Grizzly Season

by S. W. Lauden

  Mary was running right down the middle of the street at full tilt. He pulled up behind her and flicked his high beams. The downhill momentum carried her another few yards before she finally slowed to a stroll. She was sitting on the ground when he got out to grab her. She looked helpless in the glow of his headlights.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  “Some place where I won’t get killed. Might be a nice change of pace.”

  ›

  J.J. set the new margarita down and removed all the empties. Tommy’s friends took off one by one until he was seated at the bar alone. The crowds were heavy earlier in the night, but thinned out about an hour ago. It was close to midnight when the only other table of customers settled their tab and left. Tommy lifted his glass and took a sip.

  “Is it always this dead during the week?”

  J.J. was wiping down the bar and flipping chairs onto tables. He tried every trick in the book to get his last customer to leave so he could go home. He looked up, but kept working.

  “Depends. Crowds are usually bigger on the weekends.”

  “That when Greg used to work?”

  “Day shift mostly, but not any more. Is he a friend of yours?”

  “You could say that. We met up on the mountain.”

  J.J. stopped what he was doing and leaned on the bar. He studied Tommy’s face for a second, racking his brain to place him. The light bulb went on when Tommy smiled.

  “You’re the guy on the motorcycle. From up at the cabin.”

  “Nailed it. What’s Greg doing for work now that he hung up his apron?”

  “I guess you’d call him a P.I. I prefer to call him a ‘dick’.”

  J.J. picked up a rack of clean glasses, stacking them behind the bar. Tommy took his phone out and started pushing buttons. He set it down again when J.J. turned around.

  “Must be weird.”

  “What’s that?”

  “All these news stories about him. Seems like the kind of dude who prefers to fly under the radar.”

  J.J. laughed as he opened the register and started counting the cash. Tommy didn’t understand the joke.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Everybody seems to have that impression of Greg. Cracks me up after what I’ve been through with him.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got some stories to tell.”

  “Let’s just say that I knew him before he was a hero cop. Or whatever kind of amateur private eye security guard he is now.”

  J.J. nodded his head, proud of his own insult. Tommy nodded in agreement.

  “I’d love to hear all about it. Can I buy you a drink?”

  “No thanks. My drinking days are behind me. Should probably close up anyway.”

  J.J. closed the register and started turning off the neon beer lights. Tommy reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a plastic baggy.

  “You got a lighter?”

  It wasn’t an offer that J.J. had to give much thought to.

  “Now you’re talking.”

  ›

  Lover boy was gone by the time they got back to the house. Greg followed the trail of blood until it disappeared at the edge of the property. He’d either gone over the fence and tumbled to his death, or he was hiding somewhere nearby. Greg didn’t have time to look for him, so he dialed 911 from a phone in the house and reported a break in. He knew the police in a neighborhood like this would take a burglary seriously. That would keep lover boy out of commission long enough for he and Mary to crash the next shoot unannounced, whether she liked it or not.

  Mary seemed antsy once he hung up the phone. She was clutching his arm and almost dragging him to the car.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  “What’s your rush? You got a problem with cops?”

  “Not really, but they always seem to have a problem with me.”

  “We can leave as soon as you tell me where we’re headed.”

  She turned, placing her palms on his chest. Her lips were parted slightly as she stood up on tiptoes and tried to kiss him. He couldn’t help thinking that she had been with another guy less than an hour before. It didn’t slow her down at all.

  “Let’s just go to a hotel or something. We can have a good time.”

  Greg pushed her back until there were a few crucial inches between them. The utter disappointment written all over her face was no match for the look of disgust on his.

  “I’ll pass, thanks. All I want is an address.”

  “And you’ll let me go?”

  “As soon as I’m sure you’re not lying to me.”

  “Fine. Let’s get out of here.”

  Mary didn’t have an address for the next shoot location, but she claimed to know the way. Greg followed her instructions carefully as they crawled across the perfect grid of streets that covered the Valley. John Doe and Exene Cervenka from X were crooning about “Los Angeles” in the background when she pointed out a wrought iron gate. A short driveway led to a suburban McMansion covered in twinkling holiday lights.

  “That’s the place.”

  He leaned over her and squinted to take a look. If they were shooting porn inside, there was no way anybody would know from out on the street.

  “I don’t see any vans or trucks.”

  “They stopped hanging up the neon ‘Porn Shoot’ signs too. Turns out the neighbors prefer something a little more subtle.”

  “Very funny.”

  Greg parked and they both climbed out of the car. He was walking to the gate when he heard her shoes clicking away behind him.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I got you here, so I’m taking off.”

  “Not yet.”

  He flashed the gun to remind her who was in charge, even though he knew he would never use it on her. She brought her hands up to rest them on cocked hips. Greg cut her off before she could start complaining again.

  “Let’s go.”

  The wall was low, but covered in a thick hedge. Greg pushed her up first, listening as she struggled through the dense branches. He waited until he heard her land on the other side before following her path. She was still brushing off the grass and leaves when he dropped down beside her.

  “Are there security cameras?”

  “Even if there are, nobody’s watching them. It’s just an expensive rental.”

  They crossed the square lawn under cover of a shadowy tree. He pushed her along until they reached the garage. Greg took a peek through one of the small beveled windows built into the door. Two white passenger vans and three or four motorcycles were parked inside. The back of one of the vans was covered in faded band stickers. A small European sports car was crammed in there too.

  “What does Lathrop drive?”

  “Depends on the night. If he’s driving himself, it’s probably a little blue convertible.”

  Bingo. Greg only had one more question.

  “What’s the best way to get in?”

  “Pretty much nobody uses the front door around here.”

  They walked along the garage, following the path to a stone porch. An American flag dangled in the still night air where it hung by the unlocked door.

  The high-ceilinged living room was empty and dark. Greg grabbed Mary and pulled her in there to listen. It was mostly silent except for a couple of men having a conversation about sports in the kitchen. It could have been Lathrop’s bodyguards, or a couple camera operators on a coffee break.

  He took two careful steps in that direction before Mary tugged at his elbow. She was motioning with her head to the staircase. A glaring light was coming from the second floor, which meant that the shoot was probably happening up there. From Greg’s experience, Lathrop was never far from the action. He was the kind of guy who probably liked to flirt with
the actresses between takes, to remind them of who was boss.

  Greg took the first few steps before he realized that Mary wasn’t with him. He looked back over his shoulder to see her standing down below. She was mouthing the word “sorry” and backing away. Greg knew then that he’d been set up.

  Two armed men were moving fast behind her. He turned and started jogging up the stairs, only to find two more goons waiting on the landing. It was like a repeat of the situation at Lathrop’s, but with different players. Greg thought about jumping over the banister, but knew that he was trapped. He set the Glock down at his feet and brought his hands up.

  Mary faded into the darkness below. The two men came up the stairs and shoved him forward. It felt ridiculous to be escorted by four security guards when he wasn’t even resisting. They led him down a long corridor lined with framed family photos. It looked like the occupants of this house were a typical family of four: mom and dad and two teen daughters. He wondered if they had any idea what kind of movie was being filmed here, or if they were only worried about how to pay for college in a few years. Greg could relate.

  They reached the master bedroom at the end of the hall and stopped. One of the guards gave a light rap on the door before pushing it open. They stepped aside to let Greg go in alone. He wasn’t sure what he would say to Lathrop when he saw him again, or what he might be tempted to do. Anything outside of listening was going to be a suicide mission.

  The door clicked shut behind him. Greg walked up to the edge of the large sleigh bed and looked around. He thought he might be alone until a man emerged from the bathroom. He was slimmer than Greg remembered and his beard was shaved clean, but there was no mistaking Magnus Ursus.

  “We meet again.”

  Greg was stunned as Magnus went on.

  “Surprised to see me?

  “I probably shouldn’t be. Where’s Lathrop?”

  Magnus smiled, tilting his head to the door.

  “Around here somewhere.”

  “You’re his other partner.”

  “I was, until very recently. Let’s just say there’s been a hostile take over.”

  “So you’re the one who told him to kill Maggie?”

  “I thought that might get your attention.”

  Greg edged forward, every muscle in his body tensed and ready.

  “If you wanted to see me so bad, you could have called.”

  “You think I survived this long by doing things the easy way? Have a seat before you do something stupid.”

  Magnus extended an upturned hand, indicating two chairs in the corner. They flanked a small round table with a chessboard on top. Greg shrugged and did as he was told. Magnus wandered over to join him.

  “You play?”

  Greg surveyed the chiseled marble pieces between them and nodded.

  “I’m no expert, but I know the rules.”

  “Then we’re already off to a better start than the last time we met.”

  Magnus smirked, reaching for the black queen. He held it in his palm and studied it with an intense gaze. Greg watched as he closed his fingers around the figure and shook it lightly in his fist. It seemed as though he’d made up his mind about something important. All Greg could do was wait to find out what it was. Magnus released a jagged breath, shifting his gaze to Greg.

  “A lot has changed in the last few months.”

  “Does that mean you aren’t hiding from the cartels any longer?”

  Greg was trying to get a rise out of him, to create a level playing field, but Magnus ignored his question.

  “It means that we’ve made significant progress on Grizzly Bear.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  Magnus seemed to relax at Greg’s last response. He sat back, bringing his elbow up to rest on the table. His face transformed from ferocious to friendly in a heartbeat.

  “We can circle back around to that. I understand congratulations are in order.”

  “For what?”

  “Your baby boy.”

  Greg dug his fingernails into the end of his chair. It was bad enough that Magnus knew about their child at all, but they had barely told anybody what the sex was. Whoever was keeping an eye on Greg for Magnus was doing a bang-up job. Greg was starting to think that he knew why his new friend Tommy was showing up so often.

  “You two have a name picked out yet?”

  The tension was building too fast. Greg felt like he was about to erupt. He needed to get control of himself if he wanted to get out of there alive.

  “I’m leaning toward Marco.”

  “It would be just like you to name your son after one of your lowlife bros.”

  “I’m not in the mood for your games. Where is he?”

  Magnus set the chess piece down on the table again.

  “We’ll get around to that, but first I want hear about my girl.”

  “Kristen?”

  Magnus sat forward, lowering his already quiet voice to a hiss.

  “Call her what you want, it won’t change who she is.”

  Greg got a close up view of the new Magnus and it made his skin crawl. He might not look as scary in a suit, but his gaze was twice as menacing. His piercing eyes danced and darted. It took everything in Greg to not reach up and knock that hard stare right off of his face.

  “Whatever she is, it’s none of your business now.”

  Magnus jumped up and went to the nightstand by the bed. He shook a couple of pills into his hand from a prescription bottle. Swallowed them dry.

  “You’ve got balls, Greg. I offer you the opportunity of a lifetime and you turn me down flat. You have any idea how much money you walked away from?”

  “I’m not interested in selling poison to kids.”

  Magnus went over to the window. He pulled the curtains apart to inspect the yard below.

  “That’s all a matter of perspective. I sell a revolutionary new strain of weed in the form of Grizzly Bear. You sell anger and disaffection in the form of your music. The two go hand in hand.”

  “There’s no comparison. I make music—or at least I used to. You soak weed in roach spray and pretend like you’re some kind of mad scientist.”

  Greg walked a fine line pushing somebody this unpredictable, especially given the circumstances. But he needed to keep Magnus talking.

  “I’ll admit that was a cheap trick, but things are evolving very quickly now. We’ve had some important breakthroughs recently.”

  Greg didn’t take the bait. Magnus was clearly agitated when he came back over to stand next to the table.

  “Like it or not, the real Grizzly Bear is about to flood the market. And once it does, nothing will ever be the same again.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “Who’s ‘we,’ Greg? Don’t tell me those rumors about you and the task force are true. Because that would be fantastic.”

  “I’m only here for Marco.”

  “Well, you’re in luck because he’s very close by.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Marco and Lathrop stood up when Greg walked into the room. They looked like two lost children waiting for their dad to come home from the war. Marco’s eyes bulged as he tried to make sense of his unbelievable luck.

  “No way.”

  Greg smiled, but clenched his jaw when he noticed the scars on Marco’s face. Whatever had been going on for the last eight months didn’t look fun. But at least his partner was still alive. Greg just had to find a way to get him home in one piece, without getting killed himself.

  First things first. Greg stepped past Marco, driving a fist into Lathrop’s jaw. His neck snapped and he went down to one knee.

  “That was for Maggie.”

  Bloody drool was dangling from Lathrop’s quivering lip.

  “It wasn’t me, I swear. You have to believe me
…I loved her…”

  Magnus walked in before Greg could throw another punch. Lathrop shifted his terrified gaze, stumbling back to his chair. Greg looked Marco in the eye.

  “You doing all right?”

  “Better now, bro.”

  Magnus kept moving forward until he was shoulder to shoulder with Greg.

  “What a beautiful reunion. Too bad it won’t last.”

  Marco was getting antsy, shifting his feet and rolling his shoulders. Greg hoped his friend wouldn’t do anything stupid before the time was right. He kept his eyes on Marco while responding to Magnus.

  “What do you want? Name it.”

  “I want my girl back.”

  “You’re insane. No way I’m giving up the mother of my child.”

  “She belongs to me. Either I get her back or you’ll understand how it feels to lose somebody close to you.”

  Greg shuddered. Loss was something he understood a little too well. But he wasn’t willing to let Magnus have the satisfaction of hearing him say it. He threw an elbow instead.

  Magnus ducked, launching a shoulder into Greg’s gut. The two of them slammed into the wall on the far side of the room. A lamp shattered on the wood floor as they tumbled and skidded. Magnus recovered first, diving at Greg to land a few solid blows. Marco stepped forward, drilling his foot into Magnus’s rib cage before heading to the door. This was the moment Marco had been waiting on, planning for.

  Momentum carried Marco straight into the first bodyguard that came rushing in. A pistol flew from his hand and clattered away. It was within Greg’s reach, but he needed both hands to defend himself against hurricane Magnus. Marco slammed his forehead into the man’s nose and stepped over him. The next bodyguard suffered a similar fate, but not before catching Marco in the throat with his fist.

  Marco was doubled over, gasping for air when the third guard stormed in. He brought the butt of his gun down on the back of Marco’s head, knocking him straight to the floor. His attention turned to Magnus and Greg as they rolled around trading punches. He leveled his weapon and tried to take aim, but there was no clear shot. Lathrop swung a wooden chair into the man’s chest and the gun went off with a loud pop. Lathrop dropped, clutching at his shoulder.