by Harper, Chap
Billy’s boat was now maneuvered in place and both of the men stood up to fire the AKs in their direction. Before they could fire, there was a rapid buzzing sound and .380 rounds flew all around them, striking one of the men in his upper right shooting arm. Lester had used a 32 round magazine, and it only took two seconds to empty it. He was pleased that the man was wounded but was more concerned that 31 rounds missed altogether. He would try the .22.
All Lester’s fears were realized when he lined up the sight on the enemy boat. Standing on the bow of the boat was Billy, his hands bound, and a pistol aimed at his head. The man holding the pistol yelled over to Manny’s boat.
“Move your boat over here next to us and we won’t shoot him. You won’t be harmed. We just want to ask you some questions!” the man shouted.
“Who are you? We haven’t done anything to you!” Lester yelled back.
“We saw you with Campanella and with Tony Evola. We know you’re investigating the Matranga shootings. We don’t know if you are FBI or NSA or what the fuck. Just can’t let you out of here,” he said.
While he was talking, Lester had the .22 next to the tree and found solidity. He knew this gun and had killed two people with it. A lightweight instrument much like the one he had as a child. No other gun would ever be any better than this little gun. It was a child’s first extension of power over other creatures. Lester waited patiently until there was a little separation between the man with the pistol and Billy. The time came when a full silhouette of Billy and the man were separated by a ray of light, and he took the shot. He knew he wouldn’t miss. The man holding the pistol never heard the crack of the .22. He fell lifelessly to the deck of the boat. Almost immediately after, a sheriff’s police boat pulled up next to Billy’s boat. They held a gun on the wounded man until they got him on board. Billy was unharmed but had splattered blood on his cheek and shirt.
Manny’s and Billy’s airboats followed the sheriff’s boat and several other police vessels back to Paradis. The fishing boat was recovered and the search for the bodies of the occupants was in progress. Hank was waiting at the dock.
“Why don’t you guys get out of town before I’m put out of a job? Looks like these were the guys that hired the hit on the Matrangas. You guys okay?” Hank asked.
“I got to see an alligator, so I’m going back happy,” Becca said.
The laughter relieved some of the tension. The group got into the SUV for the drive back to Hot Springs just as it started to rain, hard and steady, with thunder and consistent lightning. In Lester’s mind, he thought maybe it was meant for him as a forgiving and cleansing rain.
Chapter Twenty-Four
It rained constantly until they crossed over into Mississippi, where it stopped almost as soon as they entered the state. Lester saw this as a sign. He didn’t know if it meant everything that happened in Louisiana had been cleansed, or if it was just a coincidence.
After a stop in Vicksburg for lunch, they were back on the road with Rich driving and Becca riding in the front seat. It appeared the two had enjoyed each other’s company and bed-sharing on the trip. Lester had talked to Hank, who took care of the write-up in the Times-Picayune Monday edition regarding the shooting.
“Off-duty Police Officers Attacked by Shooters from the Gambini Crime Family.”
The article went on to point out the police officers were from Arkansas and referred to Lester as Hamilton Richardson, an attorney for Garland County, Arkansas and his girlfriend, omitting her name. The purpose of the trip was to sell surplus weapons, taken in a raid in Arkansas, to the Louisiana Sportsman’s Super Store in Chalmette. It mentioned that the Arkansas deputies, Rich Roberson and Becca Valdez had been attacked while on an airboat tour in the swamp outside of Paradis, LA. The Arkansas group had represented themselves well in the firefight; they had killed three and wounded one more of the gangsters. Captain Hank Campanella, special organized crime investigator of the New Orleans police department, issued a statement identifying the four attackers as suspects in the hiring of hit men responsible for the Matranga killings at the Oyster Palace in Metairie a few days ago.
Lester relayed what Hank had read to him word-for-word to the rest of the group in the car. He explained that Debi’s name was left out of the write-up, and he was still Hamilton Richardson, an attorney for Garland County. This ruse had to continue until ATF could put together enough information to raid Tony’s place. The article went on to say that a fisherman had been killed and his boat hijacked by the suspects. He hoped maybe Debi could keep this second shootout secret from her parents, but there was a good chance local reporters would pick it up from the national news. It would be something else that Lester would have to atone for with her parents—especially her mom. He had practically promised her that she wouldn’t be a part of a gunfight if he saw it coming. If he had left her by herself back at the dock they might have—no, would have—killed her. Lester was going to tell Susan he couldn’t abandon her on the docks and hope she would believe he was trying to protect her.
As the rain had stopped and lunch was behind them, Lester believed it was time to break the story of Spider Gambini to Debi. The plan was Little Richard would start the story, and Lester would pick up the events, including the bathtub scene, which Lester knew would cause him unlimited hardship. He considered all the possible consequences and hoped the protection of two other friends might keep him from being strangled by Debi.
“Uh, Debi, the strangest thing happened when you were gone to California,” Rich said.
“What was that, Rich?” Debi asked, suspicious of his opening line.
“Well, I get this phone call from someone who says she is Lester’s cousin from Tennessee. Says she is Darlene McFarlin and wants to know how he’s doing after the surgery and says everyone in Tennessee wants to know,” Rich said. He glanced back in the back seat at Debi to see if she was smiling. Lester, on the other hand was turning increasingly pale.
“Well, I told her I didn’t know Lester had cousins in Tennessee—told her he couldn’t remember much. I said you were having a nurse come by later in the week. I also told her you were in California looking after your brother who had been in a car wreck.” Little Richard was nervous as he related the story.
“My God, Rich—that could have been anyone! I can’t believe you gave out that information with him all by himself and couldn’t remember shit!”
Lester took the baton and picked up the story.
“Debi, I didn’t remember much, but I did remember you telling me a nurse was coming by sometime. I didn’t know when. Well, later that day there was a knock on the door and this lady said she was a nurse that you had ordered. Well, she came in and wrote down some information, said I was supposed to have a bath, and she was there to keep me from falling.” Lester’s voice was shaky. Debi sensed this elaborate explanation was trouble.
“Hold it. What did this nurse look like?” Debi asked. She was starting to suspect something; the ugly nurse would not have generated such an elaborate story.
“Uhhh—she was about thirty-something—rather attractive,” Lester said, trying to be underwhelming regarding Spider’s drop-dead gorgeous looks.
“Okay, let’s get to the good part of the story!”.
“Okay…okay. This lady had me fill up the tub and she helped me get in so I wouldn’t fall.” Lester stopped at this point He wasn’t really sure how to explain the rest as a helpless victim of nurse abuse.
“More—I know there’s more!” Debi was breathing hard. Lester hoped the weapons were locked up in the back of the car.
“I was just kidding with her that she should get in with me—I know I shouldn’t have, but I didn’t know much about our relationship then.” Lester watched Debi cross her arms in front of her. Tears were welling up in her eyes. Becca was inching down in her seat and Little Richard’s eyes were glued to the road.
“For whatever reason, she got in with me. She soaped me down pretty good in front, but that’s all that happened.
” Lester felt like a young boy whose mother caught him playing with himself.
“Does ‘soap me down’ mean something like a hand job?”
“Yes—but as it happened, I remembered you and me in the shower together and knew we had a relationship. It all came flooding back. Anyway, she left and didn’t come back. Now you have to hear who the woman actually was,” Lester said.
“I don’t care. You can’t be trusted by yourself for a few days, then let the first nurse that comes along whack you off.” Debi was crying and cursing fitfully.
“I just had a brain operation and didn’t remember shit! Give me a little break here.”
“A break might just be what we need!” Debi’s face was buried in her hands.
“Debi, if he won’t tell you, then I will. The girl was Angel ‘Spider’ Gambini,” Rich said.
“What! You believed a mob boss was a nurse?” Debi was incredulous.
“I didn’t know any different. She didn’t have her mob outfit on. She looked like a kind of pretty nurse to me.” Lester’s voice cracked as he began to realize the trouble he was in.
“Why would she impersonate a nurse and trick you into getting in a tub with you?” Debi asked.
“I now remember from the couple times that I met her in the past that she seemed to like me. At the meeting at S.G. Crystals, she put her arm around me to lead me through the door and looked at me in the way women look when they’re interested.”
“What does she look like?” Debi asked.
“I’ve only seen her picture,” Becca said. “But if she looks anything like her picture, she is one hot bitch!”
“Uh…we did some research on her and she was first runner up in the Miss Louisiana beauty contest about sixteen or seventeen years ago,” Rich said.
“I was asking Lester!” Debi blurted. “I want to know what you thought she looked like since you pretty much saw all of her.”
Lester expected his answer would be a death trap. If lying or exaggeration ever had justification, then its time had come.
“Middle-aged, former beauty queen, on her way down. I’ll tell you this, even in her prime—which I will point out, she isn’t there anymore—she couldn’t match you on any scale,” Lester said. Rich and Becca resisted an ovation for his great line of bullshit.
“Nice recovery, butthole,” Debi said calmly, a departure from her earlier violent outbursts.
“What color is her hair?”
“Blond, but probably dyed since she’s Italian,” Lester said.
“Tall?”
“Fairly so, I’d say,” Lester squeezed out the answer.
“Long legs so she could wrap then around you in a bathtub?” Debi said, yelling again.
“Jesus, baby, can we get past this? I didn’t have to tell you about it, but think we should always be honest with each other,” Lester said. He thought to himself it might have been better to have never told her and just risk her finding out from Spider someday.
Lester decided to take a whack at humor to lighten the mood.
“The big defensive line woman with the mustache came by the next day, but I was pretty spoiled by then so I sent her packing,” he said, laughing. Rich and Becca joined in.
Debi turned her head towards the window and suppressed a smile.
Becca changed the subject and talked about a restaurant in Pine Bluff where they could stop for dinner if it was open on Sunday.
As the trip progressed, Debi slowly came back to life. When all seemed in a state of normalcy, Lester looked in Debi’s eyes and asked her if she would please forgive him for what happened.
“Yes, Lester, I forgive you, but not the bitch that tricked you. If we are ever in a gun fight and she’s on the other side—I get to kill her.”
“I hope you aren’t a part of that again, but you can take her out if you can live with it,” Lester said.
“I’ll sleep well…don’t you worry.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was late when they returned to Hot Springs. Becca and Little Richard were going to stay at his place, a small house on the road to Bismarck nestled in the woods way off the main road. Rich had purchased the two-bedroom, one-bath cottage with the help of his parents. The forty acres that accompanied the little house made the property a potentially valuable piece of real estate.
Lester and Debi held hands as they walked from the parking lot to his apartment. They dropped their suitcases by the door and went to the shower. Debi was intense as she stared at him during the process of applying soap all over him. Afterwards they barely dried off before heading to the bed. Debi climbed on top and took a position of dominance as though to say, “I own you, and no one else had better interfere.”
Afterwards, they both slept well for a while. It had been a long, eventful, and emotional day. Debi and Lester would go back to work on Monday. Debi would catch up with her growing list of clients, and Lester would catch up with Jim at the FBI to see about their next move against Spider.
Debi woke up once during the night, gasping for air. Lester took her in his arms and assured her that she was having a bad dream. She kissed him and told him she loved him and went back to sleep. It was harder for Lester to go back to sleep because he had so many decisions to make. Did he want to finish his undergraduate work and just work as a consultant during that time? He would lose his benefits and have to take one of the college health plans which were limited in coverage. Insurance was important because he didn’t know if he might need further surgery. Debi was under twenty-six so she was still on her parents’ health coverage. He hated thinking about insurance.
Time was critical, so he was leaning towards an online degree. He believed he could finish enough courses in the next six months. Combined with his blind school credits, he should be ready to enter law school the next fall. A law school in Little Rock featured a lot of courses that could be taken at night and online. Deep down, though, Lester wanted to attend a well-known, preferably East Coast, law school, such as Harvard, Yale, or Georgetown. Maybe Stanford on the West Coast. Everything had opened up for him as a possibility. First, he had to get all of that behind him and take the LSAT entrance exam. He had bought the practice exam and could ace it without a problem. Finally, having solved some of this in his head, he fell asleep.
Angel Gambini had now heard about both shootings in New Orleans. The first were relatives of hers and the second were members of her deceased husband’s family. She wished she could have been there to take them out herself. She was strangely intrigued by the limited report in the local paper. Where was Lester in the newspaper article? Who in the hell was this attorney, Hamilton Richardson? He had a girlfriend, but her name wasn’t mentioned. Was she a juvenile and they were protecting her? She smelled a cover up and was sure neither Rich nor Becca could have taken out mobsters with automatic weapons. Only one guy at the sheriff’s department could do it and his name wasn’t in the paper.
She called information in Little Rock for a listing on the attorney and was given a number. After calling and getting the answering service, she was given the address for an office building on Capitol Street in Little Rock. Since it was about time for her weekly shopping trip to the city, she decided that it was time to visit Mr. Richardson. The next week would be a visit to see her son in New York, so some new clothes would be in order, as well as some gifts for him.
Before hitting the shopping centers in west Little Rock she found a parking spot not far from the building Richardson kept as an office. It was on the third floor of a building that contained mainly government offices and was mostly utilitarian and lacking in charm. She found Suite 326 labeled as Hamilton Richardson. It was locked, but she could see from the window next to the door that there was a reception desk and a huge bookcase filled with law books. Spider knew they were just for show since law was now practiced online or from stored sources on a hard drive. She went to the office next to his and stuck her head in to the federal rural development loan office where she found a young attr
active black lady manning a desk.
“Do you happen to know when Mr. Richardson will be back in the office?”
“I don’t keep up with dat man. He works out of town most de time. I’ve only worked here ’bout a month and I ain’t never met him. Don’t care much for lawyers, so doubt if I missed nuttin,” she said, with a thick accent.
Angel decided he might really exist after all since he had an office and a phone number. If he worked primarily with county, state, and federal agencies, then it would make sense to have his office in a federal building. She stopped briefly in the lobby to look at the directory to see who else was in the building.
“Holy shit!” she said loud enough for the security guard at the desk nearby to turn and frown in her direction. Listed with offices in the building were the FBI, ATF, and the DEA. The three circles of hell that would love to lock her up until the next ice age. Was it just a coincidence that this lawyer was surrounded by all this evil? He had to be working with them or for them. Maybe he was ex-military and that’s why he was such a good shot. Did they have her in their sights as well?
Spider rushed out of the building. She hurried through her shopping trip and got everything in order to leave in two days for the East Coast. Hot Springs had finally come together with enough inventories to supply product in all her ventures. The meth lab at S.G. Crystals was running full speed along with other drugs sorted and distributed there. A good supply of guns had been delivered to the bait store with more on order. Money was rolling in from the strip clubs, the call girl operation was exploding, and expansion was planned from two states to several others. Rich men paid large sums for beautiful girls delivered to their homes, vacation rentals, or hotels, as long as they looked like they belonged there. Spider taught classes in how to dress like rich bitches and not like whores in line for a John at a brothel.