“I agree. How about you guys?” Michelle asked.
“I didn't see them real good. They weren't kids, though.” Baby‑Sister said.
“Uncle G?”
“That's how I see it too,” he answered.
“What about the gun?” Deja asked.
“Clean in and out, ammo too. I always used gloves when cleaning or loading it. I didn’t touch it after holstering it with my gloves on. But, my prints might have been on the holster.”
“Not good. We’re in NASA land now,” Michelle said.
“NASA land? What’s NASA land?” Deja asked.
“Like in the movies when the astronauts yell, ‘Houston! We have a problem!’ We have a problem, but Houston can’t help,” Michelle explained.
“What kind of a problem?”
“I shot that guy.” Michelle said.
“What?” G‑Baby asked surprise in his voice. “I thought I was the only one shooting and that was in the air.”
“That wasn’t working and I had a clean shot so I took it. It was only in the leg, but he was shot while trying to grab you. Shooting someone raises the legal bar. It changes a lot of things, and the cops will be much more interested in everything because of it. For sure they'll do a full ballistics on the gun. But because the gun is cold, it shouldn't be a problem.”
“It might be,” Deja said.
“How's that?” Michelle asked.
“It was one of the guns at Billings.”
“So what? You didn't shoot your gun in Billings.”
“No, she didn't. I did, and that was my gun,” G‑Baby said.
Michelle leaned back and rubbed her eyes. “That seriously blows.”
“You're scaring me. What blows?” Deja asked.
“The gun Deja dropped didn't kill anyone, but it was used when people were killed. They can trace the casings and connect it to those killings. They caught you on camera in the store. And in case you’ve forgotten, you were arrested for attempted murder back in Anglewatts not long ago.”
“Does it matter that I didn't kill anyone and was totally acquitted?” Deja asked.
“No, they didn’t acquit you, they dropped the charges,” Michelle said.
“Same thing. They let me go because I was innocent.”
“I’m not sure the cops would agree. Why did they drop the charges?” Michelle asked.
“Because that rat bastard asshole of an ex‑boyfriend, Jerome, was killed while they had me in jail.”
“Right. The guy who pressed charges against you for trying to kill him, up and died, as in got his stupid ass killed in a street gunfight, so the state didn’t have a witness.”
“Oh, I see.” Deja winced. “Yeah, it does look pretty bad.”
“Let's not make too much out of it,” Michelle said. “The Billings and Tulsa cops don’t have any reason to talk to each other. As far as the cops here know, it was an attempted assault and a guy was shot. They will probably think it was an isolated event between rival gangs. There's nothing to give them a reason to pay the costs to compare the ballistics of a loose gun against every crime in the whole country.”
“Good point. My imagination was running away with me,” Deja said.
“We still don't know why those guys tried to jack you,” Baby‑Sister said.
“No we don't,” Michelle said. “One thing for sure, the SUV has to be ditched. The plate will be on the store surveillance system. I’ll need to take it out of the city and get a new car.”
“When?” Deja asked.
“Now. Who’s up for following me in the other car?”
“I can do that,” Baby‑Sister said.
“Okay, but we won’t get back until late, and I want you to go talk to the cashier tomorrow morning. She may have seen something.”
“How late?”
“Very late, or not until tomorrow. I want to drop the SUV off up in Kansas in Wichita then go back down to Oklahoma City to rent a car under a different name. It might be better if someone else came with me.”
“Why Wichita,” Baby‑Sister asked.
“Take it out of state,” Michelle answered. The police won’t do much to follow it out of state, maybe make a call or two. The driver’s license I used is fake so won’t come back to us. It’s burned now, and nothing can be done.”
“That’s good. Didn’t you use a credit card? What about your card?” Baby‑Sister asked.
“I set up a dummy account at a Texas bank. It doesn’t tie back to anyone real and will die with the license.”
“See Michelle, none of us would think to do any of those things,” Deja said. “Even if we did think of it, we wouldn’t know how. You really do know a lot more than you seem to give yourself credit for.”
“Okay let’s stop right there. That’s the kind of thinking that got us in trouble today. I need all of you to stop seeing me as the only person who can think things through. What did we all do wrong this afternoon?”
“Off the top, I can think of a couple of things,” G‑Baby said. “One, we stopped for gas at a local station. Local enough that Galletti’s reach was not just possible, but likely. That was stupid. Two, Deja went into a store without any disguise and three, she went alone. All of us sat out in the car not thinking of the possibility of what could go wrong.”
“Right,” Michelle said. “Everything you listed was an unnecessary risk. We were twice lucky. Deja got away, and we got a strong warning. Let’s take it to heart.”
“I’m all for that. Any ideas?” Baby‑Sister asked.
“Yeah, start thinking about ways to avoid, or mitigate as much risk as possible for everything we do,” Michelle took a moment and made a point of meeting each person’s eyes. Deja had the confused look she sometimes wore. “Where did I lose you?”
“What are we doing to the risk?” Deja asked.
“You mean, mitigate it?”
“Yeah, is that like mitigating circumstances in the movies?”
“Exactly,” Michelle said.
“I don’t get it.”
“For us, this time, mitigate the risk means fix it or make it not bad, take care of it. This thing we’re doing will still be risky as hell, but we should take out as much risk as possible. Okay, sweetie?”
“Oh, hell yeah. I’m all for mitigating things like today!”
“I thought you would be.
“I think we all are,” PJ said.
“This is important. Each one of us has to pay close attention and help everyone else. Action is easy; thinking things through correctly is ten times harder and a hundred times more important. The place to start is figuring out what Baby‑Sister can do to get information from the clerk tomorrow with as little danger as possible.”
“Figuring out how to go about dealing with the clerk is more important than mindless driving all over the country tonight,” PJ said. “You and G‑Baby work on that, and I’ll follow Michelle up to Kansas.”
“I’ll go with you guys too so we can change up drivers along the way,” Deja said.
“We can start with risk control right now,” G‑Baby said. “I’ll make a pot of coffee you can take with you, so you don’t need to stop anywhere near Tulsa. Also, give me a minute to make a shopping list. You might as well take advantage of being all the way to the hinterland and buy supplies.”
A huge violent clap of thunder exploded sounding like a gun going off in the next room. Everybody jumped, flinched, and ducked. The first huge rain drops crackled on the aluminum awning covering part of the back patio. “Damn, that was close!” Deja said.
“I think those thundershowers are here,” G‑Baby said. “It’s going to be a long night out on the highway. You girls be careful.”
* * *
Holding the telephone receiver up over his head, the detective yelled across the room, “Hey Thompson, it's for you.”
“Dammit Ramirez, can't you take it. It's after seven. I've been off duty for two hours and still haven't had dinner.”
“No, he asked fo
r you by name. Said he wouldn't talk to anyone else.”
She picked up the receiver on the phone on her desk and shook it at Detective Ramirez. “You'll never make your next promotion if you can't even take a phone call.” She jabbed the lit up button on the side of her phone. “This is Detective Thompson.”
“You the Detective Thompson who's working on those murders up in Billings and Cheyenne?” the man asked.
“Yes, I am. Who are you?”
“Your new best friend. Some punk banger was shot in Tulsa this morning. I hear there's a connection.”
“I heard Santa Clause is connected to Don Corleone. Why should I think this is anything but total bullshit.” Detective Thompson grabbed a pen ready to take notes.
“Right and how did you find out about Cheyenne?”
“You’re saying Cheyenne Wyoming, and now this incident in Tulsa, are connected to the murders here in Billings? Okay. I'll check it out. How can I contact you?”
The line went dead.
“Hey Ramirez, call Tulsa P.D.” Detective Thompson said. “A banger was shot down there sometime this morning. Find out all you can about it. Make sure you get contact information on everyone who is working the case. This has been one crappy day. I'm going over to Sam's for a steak and relax with a glass of wine. After dinner, I’ll be at my house if you need me. Leave your report on my desk.”
“You got it, boss. What's this about?”
“Woodrow Wilson.”
“Another body drop?”
“Make the call and tell me all about it. I'll look for your notes in the morning.”
Thirty‑four minutes later, Detective Thompson put a Burger King take‑out bag on her desk, and dropped her purse in the bottom drawer.
Detective Ramirez held his hand out to Detective Pendergrass. “Pay up.”
“That was a sucker bet,” Pendergrass said.
“Yup. And you were a sucker for taking it. There was no way she’d go have that steak much less go home and leave this new lead to me. Pay up, ten bucks.”
Detective Thompson spread out the burger, fries, and coke on her desk. “Well? What can you tell me?”
.
Eighteen: PJ Gets Laid
A STEADY RAIN tattooed the windshield between wiper swipes. Earlier the torrential rain slowed traffic, even on the interstate, but now the wipers easily managed to keep a clear vision out to the highway. PJ drove, Michelle rode silently in the passenger seat, Deja snored softly in the back.
They had already dropped off the SUV in Whiticha, teamed up in one car, and headed down toward Oklahoma City. A few hours into the trip, the quiet hum of the tires on the wet highway, soft jazz turned down low, and the steady beat of the wipers created a safe cocoon that gave Michelle time to think.
PJ broke the silence. “You’re pretty active, sexually, right?”
Her mind a million miles away, Michelle took a moment to process what PJ asked. “That’s a question I didn’t see coming,” Michelle said. “Yes, I am. I enjoy sex.”
“Me too,” PJ said.
Michelle tugged the seat belt for a little extra room and twisted in her seat to face PJ. “I’d expect so in your line of work.”
“Yeah, most of us do. But, not everyone.”
“Really? How’s that?” Michelle asked.
“Sex at work is work. It’s not about having a good time. It’s sure as hell isn’t about being satisfied either physically or emotionally. Really, it’s more like bad sex at home. Everyone has had bad sex.”
“I try not to. If I get a lousy lover, I kick his ass to the curb,” Michelle said. “But then he’s not paying so I can.”
“That works for a one night stand, or someone you don’t care about. Relationships are a lot harder.”
Michelle sat, quietly reflecting for a moment. “My brother was a wonderful brother. He took care of me after our parents died. One time after I graduated from High School, I had this boyfriend. He was real fine, coming up on the streets, and according to my brother, everything wrong for me.”
“Did you think you loved him?” PJ asked.
“No, I had a lot of fun with him. Being the shorty of a leader felt good. You know, it was an ego stroke everyone thinking I was that girl who could have this big bad ass guy as my boyfriend. But I knew I didn’t love him.”
“What happened?”
“Michael, my brother, gave me some grief and I dug in. We had a big fight. Looking back, the fight wasn’t about my boyfriend, I think we were scared about my moving away to go to college.”
“You went to college?”
“Yeah, two years, then my brother was murdered. That changed everything.”
“I’m sorry,” PJ said.
“Thanks. I eventually got even.”
They lapsed into silence for a minute, then PJ asked, “What’s the rest of the story about the fight between you and your brother?”
“I was all pissed and couldn’t let it go so I went to Trevor’s.”
“Your boyfriend?” PJ glanced at Michelle.
“Yeah. Trevor was his name. I needed someplace to rant. All he wanted was some sex. I tried to talk, and he kept pawing on me. So, I fucked him. I can remember it like it happened this morning. I went through the motions while he pounded away. Normally his sweaty body made me feel proud and satisfied. That time it pissed me off. I wanted him to finish, so I could clean up and leave.”
“Every woman, who’s been in a relationship, has been in a situation where her partner wants sex and she doesn’t. She gives it to him because it’s easier than not doing it. In those times, sex becomes a task like any other task that you’d rather finish with so you can watch TV or roll over and go to sleep.” PJ smiled and wiggled her eyebrows.
“It’s strange talking to you about this.”
“Because I fuck for money?” PJ scoffed at Michelle’s surprising awkwardness.
“Um-huh, I don’t want to sound judgmental.”
PJ glanced over at Michelle then back to the road. Her smile touched the corners of her eyes. “You’re my boss. Me and all the girls love what you do for us. Also, we are sure you killed several people to get the job. Now we’re out here on the highway because we’re in this deal doing our damnedest to kill a bunch of thugs that are trying to kill us. And you are worried about sounding judgmental about my job?”
Michelle laughed. “It’s just— Here we are, in the car, talking woman to woman and I — well shit, I don’t know. I appreciate your telling me what it’s like.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Why are we talking about this stuff anyway?”
“At some point, you need to sit down and enjoy the meal.” PJ winked at Michelle.
“I see. So what do you do?”
“I pick up a man and go enjoy sex. No money, no gifts, nothing to tell him I’m a hooker. I make up some bullshit about coming in from a company party and want a little good loving. They always come through when I tell them I want a man who will make my toes curl. It’s totally different from when they’re paying customers.”
“So you’re just a horny woman looking for a good time. I pretty much do the same thing. Men are so easy. All you do is say yes and tell them what you want.”
“We’re headed into Oklahoma City, and like you said earlier, it’s too late to rent a car tonight. So we’ll have to spend the night. I was thinking that it’s been a while since I had some good sex for myself and thought why not do something about it?”
“That sounds like a good idea, but it doesn’t tell me why you told me,” Michelle said.
“I’m going to pick up a guy at the hotel bar. I didn’t want you to think I was stiffing you for your part of the profit.” PJ turned on her blinker and pulled into the slow lane. “Isn’t that our exit coming up?”
“Yes, that’s it. So you pick them up in a hotel bar?” Michelle asked.
“That’s my plan.” PJ took the next exit off the freeway onto a downtown street.
Deja sat up in the back
seat rubbing her eyes. “I guess I was more tired than I thought. What did I miss?”
Michelle and PJ shared a glance, the same glance co‑conspirators have shared since ancient times.
“Welcome back,” Michelle said. “We’re just pulling into Oklahoma City. You didn’t miss anything but a lot of miles and rain.”
PJ smiled and turned into the front drive of their hotel.
.
Nineteen: Empty Nest
BABY‑SISTER DID WELL finding a lookout that met their needs. She rented the front apartment on the third story of a building on the same block as Sal's restaurant. The apartment was old, nasty, reeked of bad living and perfectly situated. They didn’t have a view of the back entrance of Sal’s but they could see through the construction site to the alley. It was about as good an observation place as Michelle could hope for.
Michelle and Deja currently manned the observation. Michelle sat in a kitchen chair in front of the double hung window of the old apartment taking pictures. Earlier she battled between using an extra pillow to pad the hard chair or not because it made the seat too high. She settled for keeping the pillow and dragging another chair over to prop her feet on the bottom rung.
The sky remained overcast with a solid, but thin, cloud cover. The thin clouds didn’t hold any rain. The result was what photographers call “cloudy bright” and made wearing sunglasses necessary while looking out the window.
Michelle snapped a couple photos and watched three SUVs and a cargo van pull away from Sal's. Five women and a male driver had filled each of the SUVs and piles of suitcases filled the van. This was the second caravan to leave in two days. Yesterday's group was the same makeup of three SUVs and a cargo van.
“Well?” Deja stepped away from the window. She had come up to watch when Michelle said they were loading the women.
“Nope. Not one of our girls,” Michelle said. “And no sign of Jack‑Move in the whole thing.”
“What now?”
Hard Run: Action Adventure Pulp Thriller Book #4 (Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Series) Page 13