by R. B. Conroy
Ricky shook his head, “She a real fox, you ought to have her over for a visit. She’d like The Villages.”
“Good idea, maybe I will.”
“You dating anybody down here?”
Eric paused briefly, “I’m seeing an older lady, but it’s nothing serious.”
“Older lady, huh?” Ricky had a twinkle in his eye. “Is she rich?”
Amber spread over Eric’s face, “Kind of.”
“You dog you. You always were the ladies man!” Ricky gave him the thumbs up. “Go for it. I’ll take money over love anytime.”
Uncomfortable, Eric quickly changed the subject. “Where does your buddy live?”
“Dunno, but the restaurant he works at is called Cody’s. Know where it is?”
“Yeah, sure do. Everybody knows where Cody’s is. It’s just a stone’s throw from here.”
“Why don’t we take this party over there. I’d like for you to meet him.” Ricky looked at Eric, eyes wide with anticipation.
The events of the day were still weighing heavily on Eric, the thought of going to a bar and getting wasted kind of appealed to him. He answered quickly, “Let’s do it!”
34
Dirk rolled to a stop and killed the engine. His warm bike back-fired drawing a startled look from the patrons sitting outside of Cody’s waiting to be seated. Dirk sat perched on his bike with his right foot under his left leg for a second and looked past the patrons to the inside of the bar. Busy place, he thought. Dirk was on a mission to get ugly drunk and clear his mind of Cathy Roberts and his failed attempt to murder her husband. Cody’s was the second stop on his planned night of bar hopping. He was drunk, edgy, and feeling no pain.
After perusing the bar for a few moments, he slid off his bike, pushed his long arms toward the sky in an impromptu stretch and headed for the front door. He shouldered his way through the heavy door and stepped inside. A local DJ was playing rock music; his amplifiers were cranked up about as high as the crowd could bear. He surveyed the long bar to his right for an open spot. The chubby bartender looked up from shoveling ice and pointed to an opening on the other side of the busy waitress station. Dirk gave him a thumbs-up and moved past the many patrons lined up along the bar toward the opening next to the station.
“Hi there,” a smiling waitress gave him a friendly greeting.
Without speaking, Dirk reached down to pinch her backside. Surprised, the young waitress arched her back and bolted away from his thick fingers, nearly losing control of a tray drinks she was balancing above her shoulder.
Annoyed, the bartender jabbed his finger at the spot next to the gold railing. Still smirking at the startled waitress, Dirk stepped over and squeezed into the spot, rudely bumping into the back of the gentleman seated next to him. The annoyed gentleman turned around and gave him a longer than expected glare and then went back to his conversation with the man next to him.
The drunken Dirk motioned for the bartender to come over. The busy bartender ambled over. “What’ll ya have?”
“Bud Light.”
“Do me a favor, will ya, buddy.”
Dirk’s brow lifted.
“Keep your hands off the waitresses, all right?”
Dirk grinned. “Lighten up man, she loved it.”
The bartender gave him a hard stare, handed him his Bud and then hurried down the bar to replenish some empty glasses.
Dirk chugged about half of his beer and then he turned around to check out the chicks inside Cody’s, once again bumping into the guy next to him. Not wanting to let the second offense pass unnoticed, the other guy quickly turned to confront Dirk. “It’s kind of tight in here fella, let’s be a little careful! Okay?”
Dirk’s eyes darkened. He glared angrily at the nattily dressed man with broad shoulders. In a foul mood and not used to being told what to do, he got angry. “You’re taking up too much room, asshole!”
“That’s bullshit, buddy, you got plenty of room!”
Dirk’s face flushed red, but he hesitated. He had seen this guy somewhere before. He looked at him for an uncomfortable minute and then he remembered. He was the guy who was sitting with Cathy Roberts’s a few nights ago at Cody’s. A nasty grin broke out on Dirk’s face, “Hell, I know you fella. We’ve got a mutual friend.”
“You’re full of it! I’ve never seen you before in my life!”
Dirk moved his eyes defiantly up and down the man’s face as if sizing him up. He wanted to punch him in the worst way, but he still had something to say. “I saw you in here a few nights ago with a friend of mine.” The guy sitting next to the other guy was shouting at the bartender to come over and calm things down. The large bartender rushed toward the looming confrontation. Nearby patrons began to back away from the two men.
“And who in the hell might that be?” The muscular drunk surveyed Dirk’s face; there was a glint of recognition in his eyes.
“Cathy Roberts, remember her?”
“Hell, yes, now I remember. You’re the creep who was hitting on her that night.”
“Yeah, I’m a creep and you’re some rich broad’s boy-toy.”
The “boy-toy” comment enraged Eric, his fist exploded toward Dirk catching him completely off guard.
Before he could react, Eric’s fist crash into the side of Dirk’s face. Pain shot clear through his body. He felt like his left eye was about to explode out of his head. He reeled backward, smashing against the gold railing. That was a bad ass punch! he thought. His body bounced off of the railing next to his empty seat. Dirk was staggered, dazed and disoriented. When he tried to raise his arms to protect his face from the next punch, he was too late. Another blow slammed into the side of his forehead. The punch sent Dirk plummeting toward the hardwood floor. He banged hard against the unforgiving surface. He groaned loudly and rolled to his back. He was in a semi-conscious daze; the lights above him on the ceiling swirled in a surrealistic dance as he fell in and out of consciousness.
The nearby patrons were now in a panic mode. They tossed their stools aside and shoved others out of the way in a frantic attempt to put some distance between themselves and the two combatants. Everything was fuzzy to Dirk. He could barely pick out the bartender leaning over the bar and shouting at his adversary to stop, but the enraged Eric was not ready to quit. He dropped down; his knees banged the floor on either side of Dirk’s head. Straddling Dirk, Eric raised his bloodied fist. In a desperate effort to deflect the coming punch, Dirk pushed his forearms over his face. Fortunately, the powerful blow ricocheted off his arms and bounced harmlessly off the ground. Weakened and bloodied, Dirk attempted to rise up just as another punch from Eric’s left hand crushed into his left temple sending him banging against the bottom of the bar.
The scene in the crowded eatery was now total chaos. The band had stopped playing and the people were screaming and shouting for Eric to stop. Dirk could feel blood pouring from his ear. Through the haze he could see two men attempting to restrain his powerful foe. Dirk was desperate. He feared that he was about to die at the hands of this wild man. He struggled to push his body closer to the bar for protection while Eric fought mightily to free himself from the men who were restraining him. Eric was like a wild animal. Dirk had never seen anyone as mean and violent as this guy.
Disoriented and in a state of sheer panic, Dirk slid his hand inside his tight jeans pocket and yanked out a long switch-blade knife. He snapped it open, and using all of the strength he could muster, he lifted his battered body up to a sitting position. He wrapped both hands tightly around the knife handle, raised his arms high above his head and with one powerful motion, he drove the knife forward and buried the seven inch blade deep in Eric’s heart. Almost immediately, Dirk felt warm blood pouring over his face and his white tee shirt. There were screams of disbelief and horror throughout the room. Then the room fell silent. Eric’s terrified eyes were wide open as Dirk let go of the knife. Eric’s head fell to his chest, his limp body dropped on top of the bloodied, moaning Dirk. There
was another brief chorus of screams and then, once again, the room fell silent. Dozens of terrified patrons stared in disbelief at the two men, lying one on top of the other while a river of blood spread around them like a broken bottle of red wine.
35
It was quarter past nine. Cathy had arrived early at the Smith’s place to surprise Eric. After much reflection she regretted trying to pressure him to kill Dirk and her husband. She knew, of course, of Eric’s violent past and his time in prison for assault, but he was no killer and he was certainly no gun for hire. She was worried that she had offended him and she didn’t want to do anything to cool their torrid relationship. In due time, she would find another person to do her dirty work, but for now she wanted Eric and his hot, passionate love making back in her life. The exotic life she had envisioned would be nothing without the handsome Eric at her side to expunge her ravaging fantasies.
She hurried into the bedroom and disrobed promptly, leaving her tennis outfit, panties, and bra lying in a pile on a chair in the corner of the spacious room. Naked and feeling vampy, she climbed up on the bed to try out different poses before he arrived. As she rolled around on the bed trying out different seductive poses, she noticed the ever growing crop of spider veins on her legs and decided on a different course of action. I’d better hide those, she thought. She rolled out of bed, yanked the bed spread off the bed and tossed it in the corner. She carefully lifted the blanket and bed sheet and slid underneath them with her bare torso fully exposed from the waist up. She grabbed her purse lying on the nightstand next to her and took out her compact. She thought it would turn Eric on if her large, firm breasts were staring at him when he entered the room, especially if she was nonchalantly applying fresh makeup. She was excited and ready and she couldn’t wait for Eric to walk in that room. She sat anxiously waiting for the sound of the garage door opening to announce his arrival.
Suddenly her cell phone rang. “It must be him!” She smiled and poked around inside of her messy purse lying on the night stand next to her and hunted desperately for the elusive phone. She felt it on the bottom, hastily lifted it out of her purse and flipped it open. Sally Mann’s name popped up on the lighted display. Her brow narrowed, “Hmm, I wonder what Sally wants at this time of day?” She punched the phone on and answered.
“Hello.”
“Cathy?”
“Yes, Sally.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything. Is your appointment over?”
“Yes, it’s over. What is it? Why have you called?”
“I’m very sorry to tell you that here’s been an awful tragedy, Cathy; it just came over the morning news and I knew you were getting your hair done, so I thought I better give you a call in case you hadn’t heard.”
Cathy quickly pulled the blankets back and rolled to the edge of the bed. Her heart was racing. She felt a thrill race up her spine. Dirk did it after all. He killed the son-of-a-bitch! She was on the verge of being ecstatic. “Oh my, Sally, is it Ed? Has something happened to my dear, sweet Ed?”
“Oh no, Cathy, it’s not Ed, thank goodness!”
Cathy was confused. She yanked the blanket off the bed, wrapped it around her and began pacing the floor. “Then what is it, Sally? What is the tragedy?”
“It’s that fellow you play tennis with, that handsome guy. He was murdered last night at Cody’s. He got into a fight with a biker guy and the guy stabbed him in the chest. He died this morning at 4:30 a.m. They made heroic efforts to save his life, but to no avail. They said he had just lost too much blood.”
“Oh no! Oh no!” Cathy stumbled over and collapsed on top of her clothes in the chair in the corner. She felt weak and nauseated, her mind was racing. She was breathing like a long distance runner who had just finished a marathon. She was in a total state of shock. Her stomach pushed up to her throat. She leaned forward, remnants of her breakfast exploding from her mouth. She vomited over and over again. The convulsions were so powerful that she was losing her breath between episodes, yet she couldn’t control them. She began to feel light-headed and then the room went suddenly black. Her limp body tumbled from the chair into an oozing puddle of bodily excrements. Her cell phone slid from her hand and bounced on the soft carpeting next to her.
“Hello, Cathy. Are you there?”
“Are you all right, Cathy?”
“Answer me, Cathy!”
36
Six Months Later
The trial was short and sweet. With so many eye-witnesses to the crime at Cody’s and Dirk’s two prior arrests for assault, it only took the jury five hours to render the verdict. Dirk was convicted on a “First Degree Murder” charge and given forty to life by the judge, with no chance for parole. Unless he lived to be nearly one hundred years old, Dirk Harrison would die in prison. His court-appointed attorney made a weak attempt to get the judge to reduce the sentence, but because to the violent nature of the crime, the judge refused.
During the sentencing phase, the judge made no secret of his disdain for Dirk Harrison, calling him a menace to society. As a means of further punishment, the judge assigned him to the dreaded Florida State Penitentiary in Raiford, Florida-a maximum security prison that boasted of such infamous alums as serial killer Ted Bundy, the handsome sociopath who confessed to murdering over fifty women.
Dirk wasted no time in making a name for himself at Raiford. A control freak by nature, he became indignant when the leader of one of the many gangs inside the rough and tumble facility asked him to join his gang. Dirk refused and the gang leader immediately threatened him with bodily harm. Enraged by the threat, later that day Dirk smuggled a knife out of the cafeteria during his kitchen duty and stabbed the man in the back. The wound wasn’t fatal, but Dirk received thirty days in solitary confinement or the “Hole” as the inmates like to call it. After his release from the hole, he was given a brief hearing. At the hearing, prison officials assigned him to the Supermax wing of the prison where only the most violent of the prisoners reside. Dirk found the Supermax facility to be almost unbearable, with little time allotted for exercise and most of the day spent in a small, stark cell with an unprotected toilet sticking out from the back wall. With absolutely no hope for an early release and now living in “Hell”, Dirk became even more uncooperative and surly, spending much of his time in solitary.
It was Wednesday and Dirk was enjoying one of his rare respites from the “Hole”. He was lying on his back on the thin, worn mattress on his tiny bunk staring aimlessly at the ceiling. The narrow bunk was barely long enough to hold his six foot frame. Terribly bored, he yawned and rolled up and out of the bunk. He stepped over and looked through the small barred window above the worn and stained toilet. The light from the morning sun was starting to rise above the bleak, gray brick building next door. He couldn’t see the sun from his cell no matter what the time of day, but at least he could see its light rising above the top of the building in the morning. Back in Lady Lake, he loved to sit at his desk each morning and wrap his thick hands around a warm cup of coffee and look out at the sun rising above the swaying palm trees that lined the shopping center across from his cycle shop. He longed for those days at The Cycle Shop when he was a free man.
After briefly observing the stilted sunlight, he walked back over and fell on his back in his bunk. Prison gives a man a lot of time to think, and since his incarceration, Dirk had been doing a lot of that. He spent a lot of time thinking about his loss of freedom and the loss of control of his life, especially since his assignment to Supermax. He often thought back to the first time he met Cathy Roberts at Cody’s. His buddy Reg had tried to warn him that he was getting in over his head, but he didn’t listen. Certain that he was more than a match for some rich broad at The Villages, he ignored his buddy’s pleas. He remembered how he was turned on by the delicate, expensive looking jewelry she was wearing that night. She was a rich lady on the prowl and he loved it, there was a genuine electricity between them. He regretted now that he never got the “rich bitch” i
n bed, although he had made it with her over and over again in his imagination. Every time he spoke with her on the phone or met with her, he got aroused. She was the most unique and dangerous person he had ever known. Dirk smiled, but it soon vanished. His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a familiar voice.
“Got company coming at ten this morning, Harrison; you got half an hour to clean up and get ready. The Warden wants you looking neat and tidy when you meet with your visitor.” The big guard slid a tray containing a blue Bic razor, a cheap mirror, a small canister of shaving cream, and a pan of water under the small opening at the bottom of the cell.
Dirk rolled quickly up to a sitting position at the mention of a possible guest. Since his incarceration some three months earlier, his only visitors had been his friend, Reg, and his wife, Daisy, on just two occasions. During his trial, aware that he would most probably be going to jail for several years, he had agreed to sell his business to Reg on contract. Nobody else had bothered to make the trip to Raiford, located in northern Florida near Lake City to see him, not even his sister Naomi and his little nephew Earl.
“Who is it? Who’s coming? I never got a visitor application.” His eyes begged more information from the big guard.
“Sorry, you should have gotten a visitor application. I’ll find out why you didn’t. In the meantime, you better get ready. Your guest’s name is Naomi Harrison, must be kin.”
Dirk abruptly turned away from the guard and stared at the dark, cement floor. He spoke quietly, almost under his breath, “It’s kin all right. It’s the only kin I got.” Dirk’s eyes glazed over. The only soft spot in the rock-hard exterior of this ill-disposed man was his sister, Naomi, and his nephew, Earl. Dirk was taken aback by the announcement of the unexpected visit. The forty grand he gave her was the only good thing to come out of the whole sordid experience with Cathy Roberts. He began to sob at the very thought of seeing her. Embarrassed by his tears, he turned away from the guard.