by Mike Faricy
“Maybe he’s just sitting somewhere drinking Pina Coladas and watching the kids play on the beach,” I said.
Osborne gave me a look and said, “If you’ll maybe wait in the next room, I’d like to begin working our response here.” Then he turned his attention to the local cops.
I wasted the better part of another hour twiddling my thumbs and accomplishing absolutely nothing. Eventually I made my exit feigning a doctor’s appointment. Based on the way I looked, no one questioned me.
The initial stages of the turf war between the city’s finest and Agent Osborne was just beginning to simmer as I headed for the front door. Osborne was in the process of taking charge and the locals didn’t look very happy.
I gave Isabella a hug and kiss on my way out the door. Understandably, she seemed numb to the world and didn’t react at first. Then she grabbed my hand just as I began to step away. She looked up at me from the couch as tears welled up in her red, puffy eyes and she whispered, “Dev, he isn’t going to call. I need my babies back. You’ve got to find them for me.”
I nodded, tried to step away, but she squeezed my hand even tighter and pulled me toward her. “Maybe you didn’t hear me, I mean it, Dev. My babies, you have to find them. Promise me.”
“The police….”
“Find them, damn it, find them, promise me,” she whispered.
“I’ll try and find them. I promise, I’ll try.”
She let go of my hand and just stared at the floor. The feds and the local guys were arguing around the dining room table and didn’t seem to notice the two of us. I bent down and kissed her on the top of the head and whispered again, “I promise.”
The cop sitting in the squad car looked up from the magazine he’d been reading and watched me navigate the car back and forth a half dozen times until I was able to edge into the street. Then he gave me a slight nod as I rumbled past and returned to his magazine.
I had no idea where to begin.
Chapter Eleven
My cell rang not too long after I left Isabella’s. I was behind the wheel barreling down the interstate. I gave a quick glance, but couldn’t recognize the number. I could sort of hear a voice, but between the torn top flapping in the wind and the rumbling exhaust belching a cloud of noxious black soot as I barreled down the road, I couldn’t make out what was said. A smarter guy would have probably just pulled over and listened.
“I’m sorry, could you talk a little louder, it must be the connection, I’m still having trouble hearing you.”
“Hey, listen up, dip-shit, I just said, did you find that idiot and get our money back yet?”
“Freddy?”
“The one and only. So what’s the news, when can we expect to see you with that suitcase?”
“Freddy, it’s been about thirty seconds since I got behind the wheel of this bomb. So, no, I have not been able to retrieve Tubby’s money. I’ve barely been able to begin looking.”
“Retrieve, I like that, sort of a fancy college word, retrieve, yeah I’m gonna file that and use it sometime. That’s classy, Haskell really classy. You know, if I didn’t know any better….”
“Is there a purpose to this call?”
“Take it easy, bitch just trying to help you out, man. Maybe lend a little assistance to your search for this Carlos dildo. You might wanna think about being just a little nicer to the only friend you got out there.”
“Help me out?”
“Yeah, actually, I think we got a sighting.”
“A sighting? Of Carlos?”
“No, we got a sighting of Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt and I figured you’d want to be the first to know. Jesus, yeah, your buddy Carlos. Why the hell else would I waste my time calling you?”
“You’re kidding? Let me guess, that dumb shit is either heading toward Chicago or he’s maybe on his way out to California, right?”
“Chicago? What makes you say that? He may be stupid, but not that stupid. Why the hell would he go down there?”
“Oh, so it is California.”
“Same question, why in the hell would he want to drive all the way out there, that sounds really half ass. And you do this for a living? Where do come up with this kind of shit?”
“The cops seem to think he’s heading out of town, in fact they made a point of saying out of state, actually.”
“That’ll bring the Feds in.”
“I got news for you, they’re already here.”
“No shit? Hey, hold on, you didn’t happen to mention his appearance at The Derby last night, did you? They get word of that and, well it ain’t gonna be a very pretty picture. So it would be wise to just keep your mouth shut on that subject.”
“I’m not that stupid, Freddy.”
“Oh really? ‘Cause you sure had me fooled. The Feds already on the scene brings on a lot more pressure. I ‘spose they’re looking for the kids and don’t have the foggiest idea this clown is running around with a hundred grand of Tubby’s hard earned dough.”
“I’m guessing you’re right. To tell the truth I don’t have much to go on right now, I don’t even know where this guy lives.”
“Well, that just means you better be getting your ass in gear.”
“You said you saw him?”
“Not me, we got word a little while ago he was seen up at the Lumberyard. Does that mean anything to you?”
“The Lumberyard? What the hell would he be doing there? You mean like where you buy….?”
“No, not that sort of deal, he ain’t building a house or anything. The Lumberyard, dumb shit. It’s a strip club. Tubby owns the joint it’s up in the northern suburbs, just outside of Big Lake.”
“Big Lake?”
“Yeah, you know it?”
“Sort of, and this joint’s called the Lumberyard?”
“That’s what I just got done telling you. Yeah, apparently your boy Carlos was up there about midnight last night, got the car on their security tape and everything. You should get your ass up there and talk to a guy named Leroy, he’s got the security tape and maybe some other information. Tubby told him to stay put ‘til you talked to him and watched the tape.”
“I’m on my way now. Freddy, you got a phone number you can give me for that place?”
“I’ll text it to you so you’re not writing it down while you’re driving. You know how to read a text don’t you?”
I made my way across town then hopped on 35W and took that up to Highway 10. With the rush hour starting to build it took about an hour-and-a-half of bumper-to-bumper traffic before I was on the outskirts of Big Lake.
I’d probably been through the town once or twice, but I couldn’t remember when the last time was. Highway 10 is the main drag through town and I drove past a lake although it didn’t look all that big. Just beyond what passed for the downtown area a large billboard advertised “The Lumberyard two miles ahead.”
The place turned out to be a one story, cinder block building that looked suspiciously like it might have originally been built as a grocery store. The only lumber I could see were sheets of plywood covering up the windows. The plywood was painted in bright red and yellow letters saying ‘Girls, Girls, Girls.’
The building sat right next to the Central Methodist church and it looked like the two operations shared parking lots. I guess you had to sin before you could be saved.
I pulled the car into two spaces next to a plumber’s panel truck and listened to the engine cough and sputter for the next thirty seconds before it finally stopped. Then I waited while my hearing slowly returned after listening to the torn top flap for the last sixty miles.
I called the number Freddy had sent me. Leroy answered after a half dozen rings.
“Yeah.”
“Leroy?”
“Who the hell did you expect?”
“Fat Freddy gave me this number, said you got images of a guy we’re looking for on your security tape.”
“Oh, you, it’s about damned time, man. I just wanna let you know I�
��ve wasted the whole damned day waiting for your ass to show up. When in the hell are you headed up here?”
“I’m in your parking lot.”
“Jesus, finally, something’s going my way. Just hustle your ass in here, you can ask one of the bartenders for me and they’ll point you in the right direction. And don’t even think about stopping for a beer or watching the girls.”
Charming.
The bartender I talked to wore a pasted on smile and a skimpy black negligee. She removed the smile as soon as I asked directions to Leroy.
“So, you don’t want a beer, which means I ain’t gonna get a tip, ain’t that just perfect. Hey, man, no offense, but you kinda look like shit. That hurt?” she said giving my face the once over.
“Just point me toward Leroy, okay.”
“Whoa, dial down, baby. No need to get all worked up. You see that door over there next to the stage?”
I turned around and peered across the darkened room to a distant door labeled ‘PRIVATE.’ “The one with the red light above it?”
“Yeah, good guess, course that’s also the only door over there. Anyway, just go in that door. His office is at the end of the hall. It’s the door labeled ‘asshole,’ you can’t miss him.”
There were maybe a dozen folks in the place, virtually all guys at no surprise. Well, except for the woman gyrating up and down against a chrome pole. None of the patrons seemed to be paying any attention to her. She grabbed the pole and spun around on the thing a couple of times before she slowed to a stop and looked even more bored than when she started. More than a few heads turned to look at me as I made my way past empty tables toward the far side of the room.
A fat guy with a shaved head was leaning against the wall next to the door. He was standing on one foot with the other braced against the wall. His arms were folded and he seemed even more bored than the woman on stage. It was tough to tell in the dim light, but he almost looked like he was asleep.
He was dressed all in black; T-shirt, jeans, boots, and baseball cap. His T-shirt didn’t quite cover his beer-belly and he flashed about a four-inch-wide strip of hairy skin and navel. As I reached for the doorknob he sort of oozed over against the door so it wouldn’t open.
“Can’s back over there on the far side of the room, next to the bar, pal. Or you can take it outside and use the parking lot, I don’t care. But, this here’s a private entrance, just for the talent.”
“Talent?” I said. “I’m supposed to see Leroy, he’s waiting for me.”
“You the bastard he’s been bitching about for last couple of hours? God, we’ve all had to listen to him, he’s put everyone in the place on a downer, man. You’re the one he’s been waiting for, right?”
“Probably.”
“Good luck, man.” he said then studied my face for a moment. “Looks like things ain’t exactly gone your way today, either. Don’t mind me saying, but you kinda look like shit, dude.” Then he drifted back against the wall, took up his position and pasted the bored look back on his face.
Chapter Twelve
The hallway was painted industrial olive drab, had dim yellow lights that flickered and reeked of cheap perfume. I walked past a door with “Dresing Room” written in some sort of black marker. Apparently spelling wasn’t a priority at the Lumberyard. Leroy’s door was at the end of the hall with a plastic sign on it that read “Knock.” Someone had added an “ers” next to the plastic sign so that it read “Knockers.”
“Get the hell in here,” a voice shouted after I knocked. He growled as I opened the door. “About God damn time. I got a life too, you know,” he said then focused on me for a long moment. “No offense, but Jesus, you look like shit, what the hell happened to you?”
“It’s one of the reasons I’m here.”
My looking like shit seemed to be a common theme currently playing across the upper Midwest. I couldn’t disagree, but in my case it was a temporary situation. Leroy, on the other hand was a permanently rather unpleasant looking man with, bulging, bloodshot eyes, a nose that looked like a bratwurst with acne and a three-day beard. He took a sip from a drink. Based on the color I guessed it to be either bourbon or Scotch, then he gave a satisfied little gasp exposing a triangular-shaped gap between his yellowed front teeth. I figured the gap was most likely the result of some differing opinions.
A half dozen security monitors with black and white images were mounted on the wall behind him. Two of the monitors appeared to cover the inside of the bar, two covered the exterior of the building and one covered what appeared to be the inside of the dancers’ dressing room where two women were currently applying makeup in front of a large mirror.
The final monitor had a frozen image of my car. I could tell it was my Infiniti QX because you could see the crack along the passenger side of the windshield and just incase I still had any doubts, the front license plate was clearly visible.
“You got a tape I guess I’m supposed to see?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve had this damned thing cued up and sitting here for the better part of the day, just waiting here for you to finally show up, not to mention me wasting the entire day. I been sitting here ever since we got the word from Tubby.”
“Got the word?”
“I suspect he alerted every business in the organization, looking for that damned car and this fool.” He said then spun around on his squeaky desk chair. He clicked a couple of keys on a keyboard resting in front of the screen and the image immediately sprang to life.
It was a jerky feed and in black and white. I guessed an image maybe every four or five seconds. At first the only motion was some headlights going down the road in the background. Then suddenly jackass Carlos appeared in shirtsleeves carrying a large glass of what appeared to be a pretty fancy drink. It looked like there was a little parasol stuffed into one side of the glass. He seemed to turn and say something then suddenly a woman slinked across the screen.
She had white blonde hair, cut short on the sides with bangs. She was wearing a pair of what looked like clear plastic heels, skyscraper heels, maybe a thong, and a jacket that hung open and wasn’t doing a very good job of covering her. The more I studied the jacket the more I thought it looked an awful lot like my missing bomber jacket.
She was carrying a large drink as well. She held the glass with both hands while Carlos took a big sip from it, then he evidently said something that got her laughing. She took another large sip then staggered around to the passenger side of the car and climbed in.
As Carlos fired up my car you could see the woman turn and peer into the backseat. She seemed to be laughing and took another large pull on her drink while Carlos said something back. Then she hit Carlos on the shoulder, but in a playful manner. Carlos turned the headlights on and they drove out of sight.
“What time was that?”
“Little after midnight.” Leroy said then clicked a couple of keys and a digital readout popped up in the lower right corner of the screen. “Be thirty-seven minutes after midnight to be exact.”
“Run it for me again.”
Leroy sighed with the effort of having to click three or four keys on the keyboard. The image of my car appeared and I watched as the tape replayed. I couldn’t be sure, but I was willing to guess that when the blonde looked into the backseat of my car she saw the girls, probably asleep. And for whatever reason she thought that was something worth laughing about.
“You know who that woman is?”
“Name’s Rikki.”
“Rikki?”
“Yep. Like Rikki Martinez, only this one ain’t famous.
“She a regular?”
“She dances here from time to time. Bit of a loner, I guess you could say. Hell, they’re all screwed up in one way or another. From what I can pick up, none of the other girls seem to know that much about her. Likes her vodka. Never seems to cause any real problems, far as I know.”
“You seen the guy in here before?”
“No, which ain’t all that unusual
, ‘specially this time of year.”
I gave him a look suggesting I wasn’t quite following.
“It’s hunting season for the next three months, one thing or another. Got your pheasants, ducks, geese, deer, bear, wolves now.…”
“I get it.”
“It’s Minnesota, man.”
“But you don’t recall him being in here before.”
“Not that I can remember.”
“So how’d he pick her up so fast?”
“Your boy there was dropping some pretty heavy tips, place like this it don’t take long for him to catch every girl’s attention. It’s probably just a case of Rikki being the first one to offer a little bit more value for the dollar,” Leroy said then smiled at his own attempt at humor.
“You got shots of him inside?”
“Yeah, I can get ‘em up if you really want to take a look. Not that much to see, I ‘spose he was here for maybe an hour, tops. No longer than that. You’ll see, she glams onto him real quick like.”
“Let me see him inside.”
That brought another long sigh and Leroy suffered through clicking a few more keys. Carlos suddenly appeared behind a large, snifter-shaped glass with a paper umbrella stuck along one side. He took a couple of hearty gulps and drained the glass to the halfway point before he set the umbrella on the table. He casually glanced around, but didn’t appear to be worried or anxious.
A dark-haired woman in a thong walked up to him and said something in his ear, he shook his head and apparently waved her off. Rikki suddenly drifted in front of him a half minute later. They seemed to chat for a long moment then she pushed him back in his chair, straddled him and proceeded to rub his head between her breasts. Carlos said something and she leaned back and nodded. He nodded back and she gave him a three or four-minute lap dance.
Carlos looked to be enjoying the activity and Rikki, staring over his shoulder, looked bored. Eventually she finished, pulled a chair up next to him and they started talking.
A moment later she ordered a drink, gesturing with her hands and giggling, Carlos gave the waitress a nod. Once the drinks arrived Rikki leaned over and whispered something in his ear. It wasn’t more than thirty seconds later, Rikki donned my bomber jacket, picked up her king-sized drink and the two of them headed for the door.