by Nick James
“Get your ass out here,” he shouted, just as Gina appeared at his office door.
Amazingly she wasn’t holding a glass. She walked toward them, grabbed the paperwork from Zimmerman and said. “Give me the damn pen, Lowell.”
She ran her stamp back and forth on the page, smearing it, then wrote the date next to the stamp and drew a line that Bobby guessed was supposed to represent her signature today. Zimmerman tore off the red flags as he scanned the contract.
“Those areas require…”
“Stop interrupting me, goddamnit. I’m trying to concentrate here for Christ’s sake,” he yelled. They repeated the process in the other two spots, Zimmerman signing, Gina notarizing. “There, happy? Now get the hell out of here,” he said. He half crumpled the contract in his fist and thrust it toward Bobby.
“Actually, I’ll need you to initial those areas, where the red flags were. There’s five of them, otherwise it just won’t work.”
His eyes flashed and the woman made a clumsy move to pull the contract out of his hands. “Get the hell away,” he growled, then pushed her with his free hand sending her staggering backward. Fortunately, she didn’t fall.
Zimmerman seemed oblivious. He made five quick slashes with his pen where he was to initial, then half crumpled the contract in his fist again and thrust it toward Bobby.
“There, satisfied.”
“Thank you, sir. That will do nicely.” Bobby smiled, then opened the door and walked to his car. He didn’t look back but had his ears perked for the slightest sound that suggested one of them might be coming after him. He made it to his car, calmly slid behind the wheel, locked the doors, then drove around the circular drive and got the hell out of there.
Chapter Sixty-One
He phoned Morris Montcreff from his office. He was seated at his desk with the crumpled contract sitting in front of him. He had just leaned back in his chair when he noticed the envelope on his desk. It was a creamy white color with embossed edges. His name had been written across the front with a fountain pen in an elegant feminine hand and then underlined. There was just the slightest hint of a pleasant perfumed scent.
“Hello.”
“Mr. Montcreff, Bobby.”
“Just tell me he signed the damn thing.”
“Yes sir, he did. I might add he was not at all happy about the changes, but yes sir the contract has been signed.”
Montcreff laughed. “What did the bastard want you to do?”
“We never got that far. I suggested there was nothing that I could or would change and if he didn’t sign I was going to leave.”
That got a hearty laugh, followed by, “Wonderful. Did that Gina bitch notarize the damn thing?”
“Yes, sir, she did.”
“So it’s a done deal.”
“Ultimately. I had to head toward the door, but he caught up with me. It’s signed, notarized, I’m looking at it now.” He checked his watch. “It’s too late in the day at this point, but I’ll have someone file this tomorrow.”
“I appreciate the extra effort, Bobby. Did you get your key?”
He had just picked up the envelope on his desk. Something slid inside. “I believe it’s here. Yes,” he said, then wedged the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he opened the envelope and a key fell out onto the desk. “Thank you for your help on this, sir” There was a card in the envelope with the key.
“Glad you got it. We’ll be in touch,” Montcreff said, then hung up before Bobby could read the card.
The card was from Katherine Bandon and gave directions for clearing security along with a key to the front door of the new unit. The note finished with the line “If you need anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call.” He glanced out of his office, but Noah Denton’s door appeared closed and his office looked dark.
He penned a quick note to Denton on office letterhead thanking him for the apartment, stuffed the note in a number ten envelope and slipped it under Denton’s office door then quickly left with the new apartment key burning a hole in his pocket.
Chapter Sixty-Two
Bobby used the seven-digit code Katherine provided in her note to enter the building and then took the elevator up from the lobby to the fourth floor. The key opened the front door and for the first time in almost five years he felt like he was at home.
Although he didn’t need to, he turned on the lights. He walked to the front window and looked down four stories to the street below. He watched a couple of cars move down the street and a bus pull away from the corner, but he couldn’t hear them. The sky was bright blue and cloudless. The unit was completely quiet. He didn’t hear babies crying. He couldn’t hear the television playing next door or someone arguing from the floor below. The hallway hadn’t smelled of whatever dreadful meal someone had cooked last night. No one had left a white plastic trash bag sitting in the hallway oozing unpleasant things onto a worn carpet.
He walked through the place, turning on lights as he went, all the lights. The hallway extended from the front door straight back to the paneled dining room. The right side of the hall was a buff colored exposed brick and the left side was painted an off-white color with heavy oak doors opening into various rooms. First there was the living room with the fireplace, then a den, two bedrooms, the bath, the paneled dining room and finally through a swinging wooden door, the kitchen. And it was all his.
There was a bottle of wine on the granite kitchen counter with another note from Katherine Bandon leaning against it. He opened the envelope. The note was on the same embossed stock as the one on his office desk. It held two more keys, a spare to the unit and one for the front security door.
“Enjoy, call if you need anything. I’d love to assist. Regards, Katherine”
He pulled open a kitchen drawer. It was stocked with knives, forks, spoons and miscellaneous tools, not the least of which was a corkscrew. He opened the bottle, checked a cupboard for a wine glass, poured some wine and continued his tour. He debated about even returning to the dump he formerly lived in. Then realized he would at least need his clothes and maybe, for the time being, Arundel’s computer.
He adjourned to his new living room and even though it was a warm summer day he picked up the remote, turned on the gas fireplace, then settled into the leather couch. He put his feet up on the coffee table and sipped some wine while he stared into the fire. He debated having a second glass and decided that could wait. He grabbed his keys and hurried over to vacate the premises at his old place.
It didn’t take long. He left all the furniture, packed his clothes and debated about bringing the urn with Kate’s ashes. It was a brief internal conversation. He left her urn on the kitchen counter and locked the door behind him.
He was sitting on the couch, staring into the fire and wishing he’d picked up another bottle of wine when his phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Bobby?” It was a female voice, quiet, maybe even whispering.
“Yes.”
“It’s me, Christine.”
Christine Woodley, his contact at County. He looked at his watch, not even twenty-four hours. So much for good intentions.
“Christine, how nice, it’s great to hear your voice. What can I do for you?” he asked, then sipped and waited.
“Well, I was wondering if you could maybe sort of hook me up. Not that I’m desperate or anything,” she added quickly. “You know, it’s more of just in case I might need a little something. Kind of…” she let that hang out there.
“Christine, I’d love to help. But I really don’t do that sort of thing.”
“But you can get it, right?” she suddenly sounded anxious.
“Let me put you in touch with someone and maybe he can help. His name is Prez.”
There was a momentary pause. “Is he okay? I’m kind of cautious you know, I mean not having dealt with him before.”
“I understand. Let me give you his number and you can decide if you want to call him.” Bobby gave her Prez�
�s number, then hung up, took a sip of wine and smiled.
Chapter Sixty-Three
His phone rang ten minutes later.
“Hello.”
“What the hell are you doing? This is bullshit, I’m not some street pusher. A couple of rocks, Jesus Christ you think I’m some kid out there working a street corner?”
“Prez, this is how we get all your paperwork back dated and filed so you get that house along with anything else you can think of. Now, you don’t want to do this, then just call the little lady back and she can find some other way to get what she wants. I don’t care. But if you want those back-dated documents filed and looking all nice and legal, she’s our contact. Oh, and one other thing, I’d say she’s probably having a relapse so she’s already in the process of falling off the wagon. If we don’t act pretty soon she will get the stuff somewhere else and most likely end up fired and then back in rehab for a couple of months. What I’m saying to you is we got one shot at this. Take it or leave it.”
He heard a loud sigh before Prez said, “She’s the only contact down there you got?”
“Yeah, on this sort of deal. She’s desperate enough she’ll do just about anything, get her enough to keep her strung out for a few days.”
“A few days?”
“You can dole it out to her until she’s got everything filed. It’s our one shot, Prez. I’m leaving it up to you, take it or leave it. It’s your choice if you want Arundel’s house or not.”
“Okay, okay.”
Chapter Sixty-Four
Prez phoned Christine an hour later, she answered her phone almost before it rang.
“Bobby?”
“Hi Christine, no actually it’s Prez, hey we’re all set. Why don’t you meet me half-way. There’s a parking lot…” He gave her directions.
“I’m in the car now, I’ve been waiting for your call,” she said. She sounded breathless. He heard chiming in the background, the car reminding her to buckle her seat belt. “I’m on…”
“Christine,” he interrupted.
“What?”
“You got a rain coat?”
“A raincoat?”
“Yeah, I’d like you in a raincoat. You know so I know it’s you and just to keep things safe.” He went on to explain.
“But I’ll have to go back in the house to get it. I might wake my husband.”
Husband. “Okay, look why don’t we just wait until tomorrow and then we can…”
“No, no I’ll be there, I’m on my way. You’ll be there and meet me, right?”
“All right, I suppose, but you’ll wear the raincoat, and just the raincoat.”
“What?”
“Just the raincoat, nothing on underneath, so I know you’re cool. I’m just playing it safe, seeing as how we never met before.”
“But if I get stopped, I....”
“Then don’t get stopped. Nothing under the raincoat and I’ll expect you to show me. Just so I know you’re safe. Then you can have your little treat, all for yourself. Sound good?”
“Yes, yes, but promise you’ll be there.”
“I’m there now, Christine,” he laughed and hung up. He really wasn’t there, but the parking lot was a six-minute drive if he had to stop at both traffic lights. Coming from her side of town Christine would have a good twenty-minute ride ahead of her.
He spotted her barely fifteen minutes later, waiting for the light to change so she could make the left hand turn. Actually he saw her car, not that he knew what it looked like, but it was the only one at this hour making a left hand turn into this otherwise empty lot. Every few seconds the car jumped forward a foot or two trying to zip across the busy street. Prez wasn’t sure if anything was said, but he thought he could hear her screaming “Hurry up” while she waited for the traffic to clear. There was finally a break and she screeched across the intersection and raced into the empty parking lot heading for the far dark corner where Prez was parked. She cut her headlights the moment she spotted him, then screeched to a stop alongside his car.
He waited behind the wheel, checking the street and his rear view mirror a final time as she opened the door and climbed out of her car. It was a cloudless starlit night, still close to eighty degrees.
She wore the raincoat and glanced back over the roof of her car, apparently checking the area. She closed her car door and stepped toward him, prancing in heels as she held her raincoat open with both hands exposing herself. Apparently she was a natural blonde. Her eyes looked half wild, and she licked her lips as if in anticipation increasing her pace with every step until she was almost running.
Prez lowered his window.
“You like?” She smiled and half giggled, but there was a desperate ring to her voice.
“Nice, Christine, very nice.”
“I’ve had two babies,” making it sound like exposing herself in a dark parking lot after midnight to a complete stranger was just an everyday occurrence. She turned so he could get a side view, then faced him again.
“You look good, Christine. Are you a good mom?” he laughed.
“I can be the best mom you’ve ever had,” she said and pressed herself up against his car door.
He reached up and fondled her breasts for a long moment, he guessed a C cup and her large nipples suddenly became very erect. “I bet you can be the best mom ever. Might just be a little reward for someone who’s a good mommy.”
“”You’re happy, right? I did what you wanted, didn’t I?” She opened the raincoat wide, shaking her breasts from side to side to emphasize her point.
“Yeah, Christine, you did exactly what I wanted. Brought a little treat for you,” he said and reached onto the passenger seat. He held out the half-dozen rocks of crack in the palm of his hand.
“Oh, that’s wonderful, Mr. Prez thank you so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said and reached for them.
He pulled his hand back. “Not quite so fast, Christine. I need a favor from you.”
“Anything,” she pleaded, then reached a hand in and began to rub his chest and work her way down.
“No, Christine, not that, wait a minute. We just need you to file some documents for us.”
She stepped back and dropped her arms. She looked at him, confused and oblivious to the fact her raincoat still hung open, leaving her exposed. “File some documents?”
“Yeah, Bobby forgot to do it. If you could, you know, sort of sneak it in there, it’s nothing too heavy duty. I guess it’s for a friend of his with a sick mother. Bobby was, I don’t know, he was just asleep at the switch.”
“That’s going to be tough, they keep pretty tight controls now, it’s not like it used to be. And, well after going through treatment, I mean they could fire me for that, and I’m on pretty thin ice right now. They’re sort of looking for an excuse.”
“Maybe you should wear that raincoat to work,” Prez laughed and stared, suddenly having difficulty focusing on the task at hand. “Look, if you can’t help us out I get it,” he said and moved to place the rocks back on the passenger seat.
She suddenly looked like she was going to cry.
“How about this, take one of these, no you know what, here have two.” He held two of the little saran wrapped chunks in the palm of his hand still just out of reach. He moved his hand back and forth slowly as he spoke, watching her eyes as they followed his hand.
“My gift to you, Christine. Free, no charge. And there’s more where they came from, a lot more. We just need your help.” Once he finally held his hand still, she stared for a long moment before looking up at him and nodding.
“I tell you what, Christine, maybe hop in here and we can talk a little more. Come on, honey help yourself. You can have both of these. You don’t even…”
She snatched the tiny packets out of his hand, then ran around the front of his car and slipped into the passenger seat. She put her back against the door, grinned and pulled the rain coat aside.
Ten minutes later she was running back t
o her car.
“Enjoy,” Prez called after her, but she apparently didn’t hear. He started his car and drove out of the parking lot. He paused at the exit and watched in the rearview mirror. The glow from a small flame illuminated her head for a brief moment. He pulled out of the lot and drove off down the street.
Chapter Sixty-Five
Bobby’s cell phone rang a few minutes before nine. He was at his desk on his second cup of coffee and the third Morris Montcreff file.
“Hello.”
“Bobby?” It was a rough-sounding voice and she cleared her throat after she said his name. “It’s Christine.”
You could have fooled Bobby. She didn’t sound anything like the woman he spoke to last night.
“Christine, nice to hear from you. I hope you can help us out.”
“I think I found a way. We had a power failure in the building last May, the twenty-sixth. You remember it? The first tornado of the season, weather folks completely missed the forecast and it knocked the power out across most of downtown.”
He did remember the storm. Just to make things worse he’d still been in the halfway house and the power outage gave staff the opportunity to sit everyone down for an additional group session.
Bobby suddenly had an unpleasant flashback; sitting in an unlit conference room at four in the afternoon listening to someone drone on about personal responsibility while Bobby begged the battery-operated clock to tick faster.
“Yeah, last spring. I do remember, I think a good part of downtown was off the grid for a couple of days.”
“Right, we were one of those offices, shut down for two more days. If your document was dated for that day, the twenty-sixth of May, I think I can help you out. We didn’t shut down until about three that afternoon and we lost everything for the day. It’s still causing problems. Every once in a while something shows up we have no record of and sure enough, whatever the document, it was originally filed on the twenty-sixth.