Mob Lawyer 2: A Legal Thriller

by Dave Daren

  “Well, I’d have to get confirmation from the other participants in the brawl,” Harris replied with one of his menacing grins. “Who knows how long that would take, what with the investigation into Hup’s death and such. The whole lot of you would be stuck in the cells for days.”

  “Tater Harris,” Belle declared. “You try any such thing with my client and my record of your every crime and peccadillo will go straight to the state and the federal government. You won’t be able to take a step outside your office without half a dozen agents watching your every move.”

  The Sheriff’s head slowly swiveled until his hazel eyes found Belle. The attorney refused to melt under his angry glare, and she actually lifted her chin as he studied her.

  “Seems we’re at an impasse,” he drawled.

  Belle folded her arms across her chest and returned the Sheriff’s glare with one of her own.

  “I was injured,” Belle snapped.

  “You look fine to me,” the Sheriff said.

  “Why don’t we call it a draw?” I suggested. “Belle and I will leave and you can go back to looking for Hup’s killer.”

  Neither Belle nor the Sheriff looked happy with that, but Belle finally huffed and stalked towards her car. Harris watched her until she opened the door to the Suzuki, and then the Sheriff gave me a nod before he set off down Jenkins Road. I realized then that a small crowd had gathered behind the Sheriff, and one by one, they started to walk away as well.

  I managed to walk over to the car, though my shoulders and collarbone were starting to throb. I sank into the leather seat, then wished I had a little more leg room as my knees banged into the glove compartment.

  “How are you really?” Belle asked as she started the car.

  “It’s just bruises,” I said. “Nothing’s broken.”

  “I could take you to the clinic,” she offered. “So you can get checked out.”

  “No, it’ll be fine,” I assured her.

  “If you’re sure,” she agreed though I could hear the doubt in her voice.

  I realized she was studying me and I managed to give her a grin.

  “I think we have some more work to do,” I replied. “Because I’m not going to count on the Sheriff to solve this thing.”

  “Well, that’s true enough,” she said. “Though, to be fair, he’s not likely to let this one go.”

  “I have no doubt about that,” I noted. “But I do think he already has a suspect and he’ll bend the evidence to make his case.”

  “Let’s stop at the pharmacy,” she said. “I know a salve that will work great on those bruises.”

  “Why don’t you drop me at the hotel first?” I suggested as I banged my knee against the glove compartment again. “I can grab a fresh shirt while you pick up the salve.”

  “Sure,” she agreed as she finally shifted the car into drive. “And then I can just bring it to your room. After that, we can start working on our suspect list.”

  Belle zipped around the park and came to a sudden stop at the inn’s front door. If I hadn’t had the seatbelt on, I had no doubt I would have smacked into the windshield. I added seatbelt burn to my growing list of injuries, then slipped from the car just before Belle tore out of the parking lot and shot off down the road. With a sigh, I strolled into the lobby, waved to the clerk, then pulled myself up the stairs to my room.

  I was disappointed to discover that Lila was gone, though she’d left a note with a pair of hearts and a smiley face. There was something strange about having to handwrite emojis, but it still managed to make me smile. Since I was alone, at least for a few moments, I stepped into the bathroom and pulled off my shirt so I could get a better look at the damage.

  As I suspected, it was a lot of bruises but no serious damage. I could still move and flex, though a visit to the gym seemed out of the question, at least for a few days. Of course, I hadn’t spotted a gym since I had arrived, so that didn’t seem like much of an issue.

  I cleaned up, again, then decided I would need to put on another shirt since the t-shirt I’d put on to greet the Sheriff now had blood and tobacco stains on the front and back. I flipped through the few items I’d brought with me, then realized that if I had to stay much longer, I would have to find a laundromat, or a Wal-Mart where I could pick up a cheap supply of extra t-shirts.

  As I pondered which would be the better option, a knock sounded on the door. I looked through the peephole and saw Belle in the hallway with two plastic shopping bags and a piece of corkboard.

  “I thought you were just getting salve,” I commented as I opened the door.

  “Got some paper and pens and such,” she said as she brushed past me. “So we can write down our ideas.”

  “Makes sense,” I replied.

  She dropped the bags and corkboard on the bed, then dug through them until she found a large tube. She tossed me the tube, started to pull out the rest of her purchases, and then stacked them on the bed.

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of this,” I said as I studied the label. It featured a smiling pineapple and the name Bronica, and promised to relieve all aches, pains, sprains and bruising in record time.

  “It’s really good,” Belle assured me.

  I retreated to the bathroom once again and opened the tube. Instantly, the room started to fill with a strange odor that could only be described as an astringent pineapple. I could feel my nose start to wrinkle and I thought about flushing the whole thing down the toilet.

  “The smell fades pretty quickly,” Belle called out.

  I had a hard time believing that, but I was starting to feel sore and I didn’t want to offend Belle by not at least trying the salve. With a sigh, I covered the worst of the bruises, then slipped my shirt back on and returned to the room. Belle, I discovered, had already hung a corkboard over the mirror to which she had added brightly colored Post-It notes with various labels, including ‘Suspects’, ‘Motives’, ‘Clues’ and ‘Tater’s Theories’.

  “So where do we start?” I asked as I plopped onto the bed and picked up a pad of paper and a purple pen.

  Belle studied the corkboard, then tapped on the pink post-it labeled ‘Suspects’.

  “This one is too long unless we can figure out a way to narrow it down,” she said.

  “Really?” I asked in surprise.

  “Just about everyone in town will be happy to see him gone,” the school marm replied.

  “I find that hard to believe,” I said. “Aside from the Sheriff, there’s the men who attacked us, and I can’t believe they’re the only ones that are upset at his passing.”

  “That was less about Hup and more about you,” she sighed. “You’re an outsider who killed one of our own. It didn’t really matter who ended up dead, you were going to be the prime suspect and those men would have attacked you anyway.”

  “Maybe that’s the motive, then,” I suggested. “To turn the locals against me and the mine.”

  “There are easier ways to do that,” Belle replied. “And none of them require sneaking onto someone’s property in the middle of the night and shooting them.”

  “Still,” I said as I stared at the board.

  “I think it’s more likely somebody saw your arrival as an opportunity,” she mused. “Out of towner with ties to the Mob. And everyone knows Hup would try to put the squeeze on you and your boss. So when Hup turns up dead with two bullets in him and the Sheriff starts talking about how the Mafia executes people, well, it’s easy enough to guess where everyone’s fingers will be pointing.”

  “It’s a nice little trap,” I replied.

  “I’m assuming, of course, that your company didn’t send someone to make a counteroffer,” she added.

  I started to protest but then I saw the humor in her eyes and chuckled instead.

  “Well, the Sheriff certainly seems convinced of that possibility,” I replied. “Especially since I have an alibi.”

  “That would be his next idea,” she agreed.

  “Ho
w many people know about Campania Olio’s ties to the Febbos?” I asked.

  Belle tapped her chin with the pen she held and stared at the ceiling for a moment.

  “That’s an interesting question,” she mused. “Obviously, Tater and Hup both know. And Ken Watkins, that’s the Deputy. I overheard him when he was talking to his girlfriend, Wanda. That’s how I found out.”

  “I’m assuming Wanda would spread the word,” I sighed.

  “Maybe,” she replied. “But one of the reasons Wanda and Ken are still an item is that she knows how to keep Ken’s secrets. I’ve tried prying information out of her before but she’s as close mouthed as they come when it comes to Ken.”

  “And you just happened to overhear them?” I snickered.

  “Well, I might have been a mite off the trail,” she said. “You know, you let your dog off the leash and the next thing you know, it’s bounding off into the bushes.”

  “I’m guessing your dog didn’t return too quickly,” I laughed.

  “Oh, my no,” she replied. “He needs plenty of exercise. Why, we’ve been known to stay at the dog park for hours.”

  Belle and I worked through a list of people who were part of Hup’s own Mafia as well as other locals who had it in for the long-time property assessor. I was convinced that it would have been easier to just find an old phone book and as I was about to offer that suggestion to Belle, the phone in the room rang. We both froze for a moment and stared at the receiver as if we had no idea what to do next.

  “Hello?” I asked after I snatched the phone from the cradle.

  “Hunter? Is that you?” a waif-like voice asked.

  “It is,” I replied. “Lila?”

  “Yes, it’s me,” she said with a loud sigh. “I asked the clerk to put me through because I couldn’t remember what your room number was.”

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “At the drive-in in Lumberport,” she said. “I came in with the rest of the group to help organize the next protest.”

  “Oh, okay,” I replied.

  “Will you come pick me up?” she asked.

  “Right now?” I asked in surprise.

  “Please?” she begged and it was hard to miss the note of fear that was there.

  “Um, sure,” I said as I shrugged at Belle. “I’ll just get directions and meet you there.”

  “I’ll be out front,” she said and then hung up.

  “Who was that?” Belle asked although I thought she had a good idea of who had called.

  “Lila,” I said. “She wants me to come pick her up at the drive-in in Lumberport. Do you know where that is?”

  “You passed through Lumberport on your way here,” she replied. “Just get back on twenty heading east. It’s about sixteen miles down the road, and you’ll know when you’ve arrived because you’ll see the big stacks from the plant.”

  “I remember them,” I said.

  The stacks in question had been incongruous as I’d driven along twenty. In an area of trees and rocky hillsides with occasional small towns filled with wooden buildings, the smoke stacks had risen over the surrounding area like an invasive species.

  “The drive-in’s just on the other side of the town,” she added. “You’ll see a sign for it as you hit the edge of town. Just follow the arrow down the old road.”

  “Thanks,” I said as I retrieved the truck keys from the dresser. “We’ll be back soon.”

  “I’ll keep working,” she said as I grabbed my phone and headed for the door.

  The truck was unscathed, I was happy to see, though I suspected that had more to do with the fact that the truck belonged to Billy rather than any sudden love for me. I climbed inside, tapped the gas, then nursed the engine into life. I was happy to note that there was only one cough this time as I shifted into reverse, and then I puttered out of the lot and made my way back to twenty.

  It was only a two lane road, but at least it was well maintained, as compared to the other roads I’d been on around Folsom. There were still some serious hills to conquer, though, and I eased the old truck up and down and around the rocky hills and ridges, and tried to ignore the sheer drop over the edge. Nearly half an hour had passed before I spotted the smokestacks and I cruised through the town of Lumbertown, past the video store and the tiny Italian restaurant, until I spotted a faded road sign for the Deluxe Drive-In.

  I turned down a road that had probably been paved at one point but it was now mostly hard packed dirt with a few chunks of concrete. The engine growled as I tried to avoid the worst dips and potholes, but the squeaky-squeaky sound from the seat was evidence that I wasn’t doing a very good job.

  By the time I pulled up in front of the old concrete block building that served as the snack bar, I was apologizing to the truck for the rough trip. I also took in the small fleet of cars and trucks that were parked in the remnants of the theater lot as well as the large group of people milling around. I spotted Lila, dressed in jeans, a green t-shirt, and a denim jacket a shade darker than her pants, pressed up against the back wall of the snack bar with a frown on her face and her arms folded in a protective position over her chest.

  The brown-haired eco-girl recognized the old truck, though, and before I could turn the engine off, she ran across the weedy dirt and yanked open the passenger door. She stayed low as she slid inside, and after a quick peek over the dashboard, she graced me with one of her perfect smiles.

  “Thanks for coming,” she said and then wrinkled her nose. “What’s that smell?”

  “No problem,” I replied. “And the smell is something Belle recommended for bruises.”

  “Bruises?” she asked in alarm as she gave me a wide-eyed look.

  “Not a big deal,” I said. “The truck doesn’t have much in the way of shock absorbers, as you may remember.”

  Her doe eyes stared at me in concern, so I gave her a grin and a chuckle to show I was teasing. She still didn’t look convinced, but some of the other environmentalists milling around the old drive-in had spotted the truck, and I saw several people turn to look. If I didn’t want to get sucked into the day’s events, then it was time to go. A pleasant looking woman with a wide grin and purple hair started towards the truck as I tried to decide if it was smarter to just make a big circle or if I should put the truck in reverse first and do a three-point turn.

  I finally decided the ground looked solid enough, so I looped the old truck into a wide turn and trundled back towards twenty while the purple-haired woman waved at me. Lila remained slouched in her seat until we were out of sight of the smokestacks, and then she sat up slowly and peered behind us.

  “So what’s up?” I asked when she turned towards the front.

  When she didn’t say anything right away, I glanced over at her. She still had a frown on her face and she had wrapped her arms around her chest. The index finger on her right hand was tapping against her shoulder but she didn’t seem to notice. She took another look behind us, then wiped a few imaginary strands of hair from her face.

  “I went back to the commune this morning with Ally,” she said. “Ally always comes in to check for messages and such for the group.”

  “So he uses the spot behind the building,” I surmised.

  Lila nodded and sighed again.

  “When we got back to the commune, I talked to my friends about the way the Sheriff had treated you,” she continued. “I asked them what they thought I should do, especially if the Sheriff tried to say I was lying. We had a long talk while we got everything ready for the meeting, and then someone said I should talk to Richard or Eliot. And I thought, sure, that’s a good idea because they’re supposed to be our leaders. So I went to find them.”

  “Did you find them?” I asked when she was quiet for several moments.

  “Richard and Dan had gone to one of the other farms to help a cow that was delivering a calf,” Lila said. “But no one knew where Eliot was, which was weird because he’s the one who was supposed to bring us to the meeting toda
y and help organize the next protest. He likes to attend the meetings himself and he’s usually really excited to be involved in the planning.”

  “I’m sure he is,” I murmured as I pictured the obnoxious leader turning the group’s plans over to a shady FBI agent.

  “I went looking for him,” she said. “I went through all of the buildings, and checked the fields. And then Patrice said she thought he had gone into the woods.”

  “You followed him into the woods?” I demanded.

  I know I sounded angry, and Lila’s startled look confirmed that, but I didn’t trust Eliot even though I’d barely had one interaction with the man. There was just too much smoke and mirrors around him, and that usually meant someone with plenty of secrets to hide.

  “I just wanted to talk to him,” she said defensively. “That’s what he’s there for.”

  I took a deep breath and counted to ten, then made sure I kept my voice at a more soothing level.

  “You’re right,” I agreed. “Just a reflex, I guess, thinking about a woman heading off into the woods alone without any protection.”

  She snickered, though she tried to hide it as a sneeze.

  “Um, well,” she said. “Thanks for caring, but I’ve been alone in those woods plenty of times, this isn’t New York and these are good country people.”

  “But something happened this time?” I prodded.

  “He was meeting someone,” she replied and the frown was back.

  “The Sheriff,” I guessed.

  “I thought so, too, at first,” Lila said. “I saw the car first. But it was his deputy. Ken?”

  “I know him,” I assured her.

  “I was going to turn around and go back before they saw me,” the eco-girl noted.

  “But you didn’t,” I sighed.

  “No,” she replied. “They looked really intense, and I thought the only thing that could make them that intense was Mr. Baker’s murder. I thought maybe the deputy was telling Eliot what they had found so far, and… I don’t know, I wanted to know what he was saying.”

  “Oh, lord,” I murmured.

  “They weren’t being quiet,” she said defensively. “I didn’t have to get that close to hear them.”