Noticing that PJ and I were forced to rotate our heads back and forth as the two of them seated at opposite ends of the table conversed, Hassinger got up and moved to the seat on the opposite side of the table from us and nearest Kaur, putting both of them in one field of view for us before replying, “Well John, we called you to see what you would like done. We thought this might well be something the Task Force would be interested in.”
Kaur exhaled deeply as if carrying the weight of the world, “Of course it’s something the Task Force is interested in. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. It’s just that the timing is bad. We have a major push going against Mancuso right now. I just don’t know that we have the bandwidth to open anything new at the moment.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I detected the slightest eye roll from PJ. It took me a second, but I caught on. Kaur was talking as if he was in charge of the Task Force when in fact it was the feds who ran everything. In reality he was a small frog playing in a big pond, acting the part of the big frog, just because he was back in his home pond. Of course his statement that the timing wasn’t good was fine with me because I was not at all convinced I wanted to get involved in an investigation into Bracchi. In the few short minutes since I met Kaur, I had become even less inclined.
With a measured tone Hassinger asked, “So what would you have us do, leave Mr. Nolan to fend for himself?”
Obviously unhappy at the rebuke, Kaur replied, “Of course not. I certainly don’t expect a civilian to go up against the likes of Anthony Bracchi. I’m just saying that we need to wait a while to open an investigation. Frankly, I’m surprised Bracchi’s still around this late in the year. Years past he’s long gone back north by now.”
Now Hassinger sounded irritated, “According to your own database, Bracchi has gone back north twice already this spring. He appears to be developing a pattern of traveling back and forth. It may well be that he is attempting to establish business down here. Mr. Nolan’s bar may not be the only business he’s attempting to muscle in on.”
Kaur shook his head, “I don’t think Bracchi is attempting to establish himself down here. I can assure you that Lorenzo Mancuso wouldn’t stand for Bracchi poaching his territory. I would have heard if anything like that was happening. No, Bracchi is probably just toying with Mr. Nolan.”
I loved how they were having the conversation as if I wasn’t present. I saw my opening and I took it, “Well Lieutenant Hassinger, if Lieutenant Kaur doesn’t think the timing is right, maybe we should just wait and see if anything additional happens. Maybe Bracchi is just toying with me. Lieutenant Kaur sure knows him better than I do.”
I felt PJ squirm in her seat again, but I didn’t look her direction. Hassinger seemed to consider my words and then said, “Okay. We’ll go with your guidance John. We’ll wait and see. You don’t mind if I have my detectives keep a close eye on things though, in the interest of protecting Mr. Nolan just in case Bracchi ups the ante.”
Kaur closed his portfolio and rose from the table, “Of course not. Just copy me on everything. If Bracchi does become a pest, we can take another look at it down the road when we get Mancuso wrapped up. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get going.” With that he left the room.
The door hadn’t settled into the jamb before Hassinger’s baritone growl said, “Pompous ass. That was of no help.” Locking eyes with me he continued, “I know I shouldn’t talk about a fellow officer like that in front of you Jack, but what the hell, you were a prosecutor once, I’m sure you’ve seen your share of people like John Kaur. I’m sorry you had to see that performance though. Here you come to us for help and that’s what we offer. A wait and see approach.”
Not wavering from Hassinger’s eye contact I said, “Well Lieutenant, I didn’t exactly come to you for help. At least not the type of help an OC Task Force would want to provide. I told PJ . . . er Detective Johnson that I would meet and listen to their pitch, but I wasn’t inclined to want to get involved in the type of investigation I know they’d want to pursue. They’d want to wire me and get Bracchi making threats on tape. They’d probably want me to acquiesce to his extortion for a period of time to strengthen the case. That’s all fine and dandy, but it means a lengthy investigation and legal proceedings during which time I, and Cap’s Place, would be in considerable danger. Not something I’m very excited to undertake.”
Hassinger rubbed his chin considering my words, “I certainly appreciate your position Jack. Detective Johnson had briefed me on your feelings. Frankly, if I was in your position I’d probably feel the same way. I just can’t think of an alternative approach. A guy like Bracchi isn’t going to go away just because you tell him you’re not interested in his offer. You are going to be in danger if you resist. He’s already proven that. At least if we can bring charges against him, he’ll be playing defense and that may well motivate him to stay away from you and your bar.”
I shot back, “Right, or he may choose to make an example of me.”
Hassinger nodded, “I hear you. That is certainly the gamble.” Focusing on PJ he continued, “Detective Johnson, do you have any thoughts on our quandary here?”
I realized that PJ hadn’t uttered a word since Hassinger and Kaur entered the room. She probably felt significantly outranked in both organizational structure and experience. I turned in her direction to see her response.
PJ folded her hands as if in prayer and placed them on the closed file folder in front of her on the table. Turning slightly in order to be looking at both Hassinger and me, she replied, “I’ve been thinking about this ever since I last met with Jack. I wanted to give Lieutenant Kaur his opportunity to persuade Jack, but obviously that didn’t happen, so here is the idea I came up with. Of his own volition, not as our agent, Jack wires himself for his next meeting with Bracchi. Something simple like a small voice activated recorder carried in his pocket. He records Bracchi’s threats. Acquiesces to Bracchi so that he doesn’t bring any more harm to himself. After the meeting, Jack makes copies of the recording and at a follow-up meeting with Bracchi he tells him that copies are in a safe place to be delivered to the authorities in case any harm comes to him or if Bracchi doesn’t stay away from Cap’s Place.”
Hassinger leaned back in his seat, “You mean fight extortion with extortion.”
PJ blushed slightly, “Well, I guess maybe you could call it that, but I doubt anyone would prosecute under those circumstances and Bracchi wouldn’t make a very good victim.”
Hassinger scratched his salt and pepper brush cut, “I know that, but I’m hesitant to get in a position of condoning something that is potentially illegal.” His words said one thing, the twinkle in his eyes said another.
Not missing a beat PJ said, “Oh, I’m in no way condoning any type of illegal action. I do believe that in the State of Florida, Jack has the right to record any in-person conversation to which he is a party, without the knowledge of the other party, if that conversation takes place in a location in which the other party does not have a reasonable expectation to privacy. The recording is legal and I would never condone his utilizing it in any illegal manner.” She paused, then continued, “Of course, I have no control over what he does with his personal recording.”
A look of pride crept across Hassinger’s face, “You are a very crafty detective, remind me to keep you on my team.” His own cop face returning he said, “Your case notes should reflect that we met with Lieutenant Kaur today and he told us we would need to wait to initiate further investigation into this matter.” Looking at the calendar application on his smart phone he continued, “Now, if you will excuse me, I have an appointment with the Chief to get my ass chewed out over the fact we kicked the wrong door on a raid last night.”
PJ and I rose as Hassinger did, he stuck his hand across the table and shook mine again, “Nice to meet you Jack. You and PJ may want to continue this discussion over a beer tonight after she’s off duty. Some things are best discussed off duty.” Turning to PJ he commanded, “Keep
me posted.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
PJ walked me back to the lobby. She seemed just a bit uneasy, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on the reason until she said, “I guess I better stop by and have a beer with you after work. You heard the LT.”
“I did. I knew I liked that guy from the start. If you’re busy, it can wait. It’s only Tuesday. Only been a couple of days since Bracchi’s last visit. Probably won’t be back for another few days.”
“No, tonight’s fine. Angela has band practice after school and she will get a ride home with a friend’s parents. I’ll stop by as soon as I get out of here tonight. Probably around six.”
My inflated spirits were damped, more literally than figuratively, when I exited the building and found myself in a South Florida downpour. This place is crazy. Can be sunshine one minute and a torrential downpour the next. Streets will flood, cars will get stranded, and two hours later, the water’s gone and the streets are dry.
I ran to my car and picked a route back to Cap’s avoiding the areas I know are most prone to flooding. It was raining so hard when I pulled into the lot that I debated whether or not to just wait it out in the car. Looking through the rain toward the back door of Cap’s, I noticed something moving under the outside staircase that goes up to my apartment. My first thought was that it was the goons back, waiting to ambush me. I cleared the fog from the inside of my car window and saw that it was a person hunched over a bicycle under the stairs. It was in the spot I had seen Liz’s bike several times.
Realizing that it had been pouring at least the fifteen minutes it took me to drive from Hollywood PD, and probably longer, I guessed that Liz had gotten caught in the downpour. What I couldn’t figure out was why she didn’t just run to the back door of Cap’s. She couldn’t get that much wetter in those few steps.
I decided the rain was letting up a bit, so I jumped out of the car and ran to the spot under the stairs occupied by Liz. She was soaking wet. Her hair was plastered to her head, her makeup was running down her face, and her clothes hung on her like soaking wet dishrags.
I crouched under the stairs next to her, “Looks like you got caught in this downpour.”
The startled expression she exhibited when I first approached faded into disgust, “Yeah. Forgot to check the weather before I left home. Obviously should have taken the bus.”
“You’re already soaked, why don’t you make a break for the back door?”
Liz scoffed, “I’m sure not going in there looking like this. I look like a drowned rat.”
I chuckled, “Well, drowned yes, but not a rat. Maybe more like a bunny. A drowned bunny rabbit.”
She scoffed, “Oh Jack, you sure know how to make a girl feel better.”
“Okay, maybe not drowned, just very, very, wet. How’s that?”
She smiled, “Much better.”
I asked, “If you’re not going in, what’s your plan? Stay under here all day?”
“No. No. When it lets up I’m going to ride home and change my clothes. If it’s still raining I’ll take the bus back. I’ll just have to be late. I’ll call and let Marge know.”
I gestured toward my car, “Let me take you home. I’ll wait and bring you back. It’ll be a lot faster than riding your bike and taking the bus back.”
Liz shook her head vigorously, “No. No. I don’t want you to take me home. Thanks anyway.”
I recalled Marge’s comments about Liz hiding from her husband and let the offer drop. “Okay. I’ve got another idea. You go upstairs to my apartment. I’ve got a dryer. You can dry your clothes and clean yourself up. I’ve even got a hair dryer. You’ll be good as new in thirty minutes. Hardly be late at all.”
Liz hesitated and then said, “I couldn’t do that. How would it look to everyone.”
I gestured around the empty parking lot, “You mean all of those people watching?”
She looked out at the lot as if verifying my statement, “Okay. If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble?”
“No trouble at all. Follow me.” With that, I hurried up the stairs with Liz close behind. Just as we reached the top of the stairs a loud crack of thunder startled both of us. As I unlocked the door I said, “See, looks like it’s settling in for awhile. This is a much better strategy than waiting it out under the stairs.”
Once inside, I got a bath towel so Liz could somewhat dry off. I told her I’d find something for her to wear while her clothes were drying. I started opening drawers in my chest contemplating what would be best to give her when I found the drawer Sissy had mentioned when she said she still had things here. Now I was in a real quandary. What would be better to offer, something of mine or something of Sissy’s. Again, recalling Marge’s lecture I decided that Sissy’s would be best. That way I wasn’t hiding the fact that another woman had a claim to this turf, and consequently my offer to help should be interrupted as exactly what it was, a charitable gesture without ulterior motive.
Liz looked back at me a bit askance, but didn’t say anything, when I handed her one of Sissy’s oversized tee shirts. I showed her the guest bathroom, hair dryer, spare towels, and the washer and dryer in the small alcove off the hallway. I told her she could put her clothes in the dryer while she dried her hair and fixed her makeup. She looked quizzically at me and said, “Oh, my makeup needs fixing?” It was the lightest comment I’d heard from her.
Turning to head toward the bathroom Liz said, “Fortunately, my backpack’s waterproof and I have everything I need in it.” I felt like maybe she was starting to relax around me.
I went into the kitchen and started to get a Landshark out of the refrigerator, but thought better of it and made a small pot of coffee instead. I heard the dryer start and a minute later the sound of the hairdryer.
I was sitting at the table watching the pouring rain outside when I sensed a presence behind me. Liz was standing a couple of feet behind my chair. She was barefooted so I hadn’t heard her coming. Sissy’s tee shirt hung on her. Liz doesn’t nearly fill a shirt out like Sissy does. Her figure’s more like a runway model or maybe a swimmer. Long, thin, muscular body.
I gestured toward another seat at the table, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Sure. That would be nice. I’m still a little chilled.”
“Gosh, you could have taken a hot shower.”
“No. No. The coffee will do the trick, I’m sure. My clothes should be dry in a few more minutes.”
I set a cup of coffee in front of her and asked, “Take anything in it?”
Liz put her hands around the warm cup, “No thanks. Black’s just fine.”
I replied, “Good, because I doubt I have anything. Well, maybe some sugar, but certainly no cream.”
Liz looked down at the tee shirt, “Is this Sissy’s?”
Hoping not to go into depth regarding my relationship with Sissy, partly because I didn’t know what it was myself, I replied, “Yeah. She must have left it here once.”
Looking surprised Liz said, “Oh, she doesn’t live here any longer. I thought she lived here with you. That’s what one of the girls told me. Said you belong to Sissy.”
I was surprised on a number of levels. I hadn’t really contemplated people talking about my love life around Cap’s. I knew I had a less than stellar reputation, but hadn’t envisioned people actually talking about it in specifics. I certainly hadn’t contemplated people saying I belonged to Sissy. Women can belong to men, but it’s not supposed to be the other way around. Of course, I guess that’s being a bit sexist. I simply replied, “Sissy and I have a, let’s say, complicated relationship.”
Liz replied, “Oh, it’s none of my business. I just don’t want to do anything that makes her mad. I really need this job.”
“You’re not doing anything to make Sissy mad. She’d have been mad at me if she knew you were soaking wet and I hadn’t offered help. That I would have heard about.”
Liz looked relieved, “Good, I just don’t want any problems. Not with
anyone.”
I looked into her dark eyes, “Liz, you don’t have problems with anyone. In fact, Marge loves you. Told me just yesterday what a great job you’re doing. Like I told you Sunday, you earn your compliments with Marge, so if she says you’re doing great . . . you’re doing great!”
Liz looked into her coffee for several seconds before a faint smile crossed her face. Toasting me with her cup she said, “Good coffee.”
We were quiet for a few minutes watching the rain and enjoying our coffee. It was a comfortable quiet as if we were both lost in thought but neither of us was concerned that the other was not talking. Finally, Liz broke the silence with, “You have a very nice place here Jack. Seems very . . . very homey.”
I chuckled, “I can’t take the credit for the decor. My Aunt Jean decorated, well actually she designed the remodel. Uncle Mickey let her have pretty much whatever she wanted. He was just so happy that she was willing to let him pursue his dream of owning his neighborhood bar.”
“They sound like neat people, tell me about them.”
I told Liz about Uncle Mickey and Aunt Jean, their life in Detroit, and then down here. Liz listened attentively, occasionally asking a question, but mostly just listening. The longer I talked, the more intently her eyes seemed to lock into mine. Her eyes were seemingly bottomless dark pools with the faintest glow. I felt myself being drawn into their duskiness. I couldn’t look away.
Imperceptibly at first, but than clearly evident, we were leaning closer and closer toward each other across the corner of the table. I had stopped talking and our eyes were locked. We were both holding our breath, our mouths were no more than a foot apart, each seemingly waiting for the other to close the final gap.
Marge’s lecture about Liz’s vulnerability was trying to claw its way to my consciousness, but it was failing miserably. I found myself drowning in those dark pools to the point where I was no longer resisting. The distance between our lips was closing just as the buzzer on the dryer startled both of us back to reality. Liz abruptly stood and said, “I better get my clothes,” while I intently studied my empty coffee cup.
Nimble Be Jack: A Jack Nolan Novel (The Cap's Place Series Book 2) Page 11