Hailey's Hog

by Andrew Draper

  Feeling the warm summer breeze flow over her, she sat on the wrought-iron bench in front of the Café St. Michael in her oil-stained clothes, sipping a coke as she watched the tourists stroll leisurely down the sidewalk.

  Parked just a few feet away, the Hog sat like an obedient guard dog, shining in the mid-afternoon sun. She watched the small knot of people, the third in the past five or ten minutes, stop to admire the machine. They looked at her and she felt that familiar feeling of anxiety descend. Eyes flitting from machine to rider, the tourists finally moved on. This thing sure gets the looks, she thought with no small amount of pride.

  Emotionally cordoned off in her misguided attempt at self-preservation, it never occurred to Hailey that she was the one, even in her grubby jeans and ponytail, getting the looks, both fearful and admiring.

  Chapter Nine

  Dan Matarski sat bolt upright in his chair, holding the telephone, knuckles turning white with tension.

  “Find out what happened,” Dennis Grady’s sandpaper voice rasped in his ear. “Do it quick and keep it quiet! I don’t want to see this all over the six o’clock news.”

  Always one to take credit for a subordinate’s sweat and success, Matarski spoke quickly, placating the angry senator with a tidal wave of meaningless platitudes.

  “I’ve got my best man on it. Smith’s a bit of a renegade, but I’ll make sure he gets the job done.”

  “Is he really any good?” the Senator’s voice dripped with arrogance. “I want a man who knows how to handle these situations properly. I want the best.”

  Matarski thought about his recent bout with Smith. He despised the man, but had to admit to his extraordinary talent. He’s got the deductive instincts of Sherlock Holmes and the nose of a bloodhound.

  “He fancies himself a bit of a cowboy, an old-west style lawman if you will. You know; the gun and the hat, the badge and all. Politically incorrect as hell, but highly effective.”

  “Can he be discreet? I don’t want to give my political opponents any ammo in an election year.” The Senator’s manner left no room for misunderstanding as to his meaning.

  “He’ll do as he’s told, by God,” Matarski said. “Or I’ll have his nuts in a jar.” He strategically paused, letting the threat linger

  “I also don’t think I need to remind you of the necessity of keeping certain ‘sensitive’ information out of the press,” Grady said, the firm tone a clear warning. “I know my son was no saint. I don’t want his ‘youthful indiscretions’ to reflect negatively on this office. Is that clear?”

  Or yourself, Matarski thought, but didn’t dare vocalize his insight to the powerful, angry man sitting in his plush office two and a half thousand miles away.

  “Is there something specific I should be looking for?” While both devious and undeniably Machiavellian, Matarski certainly knew a senator with a secret represented a valuable commodity, a bit of leverage he couldn’t afford overlook or fail to exploit. He threw out the hook, dangling the bait and waiting for the Senator to bite.

  “If I knew what I was looking for, it would be easier for me to keep a lid on those kinds of things. Err…I could be more selective in what information went where…and what information went no-where.”

  For several seconds, a thick silence hung on the line and Matarski feared he’d misread the Senator.

  “I don’t think I like where this conversation is going,” the Senator snorted. “It’s starting to sound like blackmail to me.”

  Heartbeat jumping to high speed, Matarski grasped for the right words to sooth the career politician’s ruffled feathers and warranted suspicions.

  “Oh, no. Senator, I think you misunderstand me,” Matarski said, voice sickly sweet with artificial sincerity, the manufactured niceties all sugar and subordination. “I was just offering to help you maintain a greater degree of control over the situation. I can be your eyes and ears here, while you remain in Washington.”

  “Control eh? Well, that’s different,” Grady said, clearing his throat loudly. “But I would be very disappointed if I found out you misunderstood me.”

  Matarski breathed a sigh of relief. “Of course, Senator.” The Chief understood alright. He correctly assumed that the Senator didn’t want a scandal.

  “You report your findings directly to me. Is that clear?” the Senator continued. “I don’t want any surprises.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now, my wife’s in the hospital. The doctor said she had a stress-related collapse.”

  “I’m very sorry to hear that, sir. Please give her my best.”

  “Thank you,” he continued. “She loved our son unconditionally. I don’t want her to hear…or read…anything that might upset her.” The Senator went on, his voice now forced, the tones of resignation beginning to creep in. “I’m a little more realistic. I know Jason was involved in things his mother knew nothing about…things that would shatter her. I know there were women…drinking…drugs. He’s gone now and no one’s going to take away her illusion of who Jason was. It’s all she has left.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll keep a tight lid on this,” the Chief said. “Anything I come across that’s…shall we say…unflattering, I’ll notify you immediately.”

  “Very good. You can be sure I know how to treat a loyal ‘associate’…one who follows instructions.” The Senator said.

  “I understand completely. We will bring this investigation to a satisfactory conclusion.”

  “Glad to hear it. You know I chair the Senate Select Committee on Crime Prevention. You handle this right and I think you can count on making the very short list for the vacant Special Assistant’s post. I think you’ll fit right in here in Washington.”

  “Yes, sir…Thank you sir,” he said. “And again, I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

  “Just protect what I have left.”

  “Will do sir. Anything else?”

  “No. Keep me informed.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Click, the receiver went dead in the Chief’s boney hand. He breathed an audible sigh of relief. Smith better not fuck this up…or he’s finished.

  Chapter Ten

  The small restaurant was packed, the people sitting on benches in the entryway chatted animatedly, waiting for the hostess to call their names. Stone checked his watch impatiently. His contact was now twenty minutes late.

  He hadn’t wanted to drive this far out in the first place, but also had to admit the small café in the town of New River was the perfect place to complete their transaction. New River was a nice quiet town about half an hour north of Phoenix, a rough diamond amidst the desert’s incendiary desolation.

  From behind the kitchen door the raucous sound of clattering dishes drifted back to the dining room.

  The servers fluttered back and forth like birds, moving from table to table, each one filled to capacity. They carried huge round trays full of steaming plates, the giant disks balanced precariously on their small shoulders.

  The smoky aroma of bacon, still lingering in the air from the breakfast rush hours before, now combined with the tangy smell of fried chicken and charbroiled beef to create a pleasant aroma of fresh cooking.

  As the waitress approached his table, Jake Stone’s vision lingered on her full breasts, demurely concealed beneath her uniform.

  She placed his plate before him. “Here you go sir, the double cheeseburger and fries. Can I get you anything else?”

  He never bothered to move his eyes up to her face. “No. This is good.”

  He watched the young woman, a teenager really, the pendulum swing of her buttocks holding his attention as she moved down the aisle to the next table. His face split into a lascivious grin. Nice ass.

  A lanky young man, his greasy hair barely trapped under a dirty baseball cap, slid into the booth across from Stone.

  “You got it?” the new arrival asked.

  “Shhh…It’s in the truck.” Stone replied, reassuring the skittish man.

  The man mov
ed to rise. “Let’s go.”

  Stone put out his arm, grabbing the other man by the wrist.

  “Hey, chill out. I just got my food.”

  “So?”

  Stone threw him an angry glare before answering. “So, you’re the one who’s a half-hour late. Now you can wait for me.”

  Running a dirty hand over his scraggly beard, he expelled a disgruntled sigh and plopped back into his seat. “Fine.”

  Reaching for a red bottle at the end of the table, Stone dumped some ketchup on his plate. “Get something if you don’t want to just sit there.” he said, voice clearly underlying his total disinterest.

  “Yeah, why not,” the man said, looking at his watch. “It’s about beer-thirty anyway.”

  Stone signaled the waitress, Angie, according to her name tag. She set the plate in her hand down for the customer and returned to the Stone’s booth.

  “Something to drink for you sir?” she asked the newcomer with a wary smile, taking out her order pad.

  “I’ll have whatever’s on draft.” he said.

  “I’ll bring it right over.” She said, disappearing toward the chrome and glass bar located in the far corner of the busy place.

  Watching her walk away, ‘Beer Guy’ leaned over toward Stone, speaking in hushed tones. “This stuff better be good, I drove from Camp Verde to get it.”

  Stone answered the challenge between bites of his burger. “It is. That’s why you come to me, ain’t it? Have I ever let you down?”

  Beer Guy took a second to digest Stone’s observation before continuing. “For what it cost, it better be dammed good.”

  Stone paused a moment to swallow and then responded. “I told you on the phone, its killer shit.”

  “Sweet,” the other man said. “I can’t wait to try it.”

  “You’re going to be so stoned; you won’t be able to grab your ass with both hands.”

  The waitress returned several minutes later with the mug of beer in one hand and a pitcher of iced tea in the other.

  “More tea?” she asked Stone.

  “Yeah,” he again neglected to look at the woman speaking to him, latching his eyes to her chest.

  She reached over his arm to refill his glass, leaning forward against the edge of the table.

  Hand coming up, Stone ran his fingertips along her bare calf, startling the young girl. She flinched nervously at the unexpected touch, knocking the glass over and unleashing a wave of amber liquid and ice cubes in Stone’s direction.

  Stone jumped up as the expanding lake of tea found the table’s edge and sloshed into his lap.

  “You stupid bitch!” he yelled, “Watch what you’re doing!”

  “I’m sorry sir,” Angie said, embarrassment flushing her face to a bright pink. “I’ll clean it right up…and get you another plate.”

  “Don’t bother!” Stone barked in angry reply, brushing the cold liquid off his clothes onto the floor.

  Several diners turned to see the source of the commotion, questioning looks on their faces.

  “Jake, be cool!” Beer Guy said. “It’s no big deal.”

  “She didn’t spill all over you!” Stone replied, his vicious, belligerent look causing the man to shrink back into his seat.

  Stone then turned his attention back to the frightened girl, causing Angie to freeze in place. “It’s food service, not rocket science,” he bellowed. “You carry the plates to the table, you put ‘em down, you refill the drinks. How hard is that?”

  The people at the other tables were now listening intently, eyes wide in disbelief as he continued to berate the frightened, visibly trembling girl. Angie again apologized, causing the other diners to shake their heads, murmuring to each other in incredulity, disgusted at the man’s treatment of the young woman.

  The manager, between visits with the other customers, heard the commotion and headed toward the table as Stone slid out of the booth getting uncomfortably close to his waitress. Stepping between the two men and his employee, the manager spoke, body tight in apprehension, words coming in clipped sentences. “Sir, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Stone replied, the quiet voice belying a poorly concealed, animal hostility.

  Although clearly terrified, the manager stood his ground, meeting Stone’s fiery gaze with a bogus one of his own manufacture. “You’ve offended my customers and harassed my employee. I won’t allow it to continue.” He said, as the beads of sweat appeared on his bald pate.

  Balking at the manager’s bravado, Stone stood to his full height, now looking down on the older man. “And if I don’t?”

  “I’ve already called the police,” the petrified man’s voice wavered. “You have about three minutes before they get here.”

  Stone lunged at the manger, stopping short and making the wiry, scarecrow of a man flinch in fear. Laughter breaking from his lips, he took a step towards the door. Stone turned back to the waitress, now standing among the other diners with tears in her eyes. “Same time tomorrow?”

  Face turning white, she visibly cringed at the mere suggestion.

  Beer Guy followed Stone out the door, withering under the stares of the intensely disapproving crowd. “Umm…sorry.”

  The restaurant echoed with applause as the door banged closed behind the retreating pair.

  The two made their way to a behemoth of a pickup truck, the steel monster taking up two spaces along the parking lot’s edge.

  Beer Guy climbed up into the passenger side of the massive vehicle and pulled the door shut.

  Stone climbed in, sat behind the wheel and reached under the seat, bringing up a small gray back pack. “Down to business.”

  “About time.” Beer Guy commented under his breath.

  Stone unzipped the pack and removed two items from inside. One was a large brick of high grade marijuana, the illicit substance tightly wrapped in clear plastic. The other was a much smaller bag containing several large joints he’d rolled earlier in the day.

  He also removed his knife from his jacket. Stone liked the feeling of power he got from carrying the long stiletto and making sure everyone knew he wasn’t afraid to use it. He snapped out the blade and slit the smaller bag open. Tucking the knife back in his jacket, Stone handed Beer Guy one of the joints. “Here, try this.”

  Beer Guy pulled a lighter from his pocket and within seconds the smoke rose in thick ropes, curling up to the roof of the truck before drifting out the open rear window.

  “You get this from that same guy as before?” he asked Stone.

  An edgy silence suddenly permeated the smoke-filled air.

  “Oh, I get it. You’re not going to tell me. That’s cool I guess.”

  Confident that Beer Guy, or anyone else for that matter, would undercut him if they could, Stone kept his supplier’s name a secret, one he guarded with deadly force. “You can’t tell the cops what you don’t know.” Stone reminded the other man.

  “I wouldn’t tell the cops shit anyway.”

  Stone put the small bag back in the canvas pack and zipped it closed. “Dammed right, you won’t tell,” his voice turned menacing. “You know what would happen if you did.”

  “Yeah man, you don’t have to tell me twice.”

  Stone took the neatly wrapped brick and set it on the console between them.

  “You like it?” he asked, already confident of the answer.

  “Yeah, I’m getting buzzed already.”

  “Good. I told you it was killer shit.”

  Beer Guy hit him with a high-five. “You scored again.”

  “Here’s the deal, just like I said on the phone, its fifteen-hundred a pound…if you take all five.”

  “I got two already sold. So yeah, I want all five.”

  “Where’s the cash?” Stone said.

  “Don’t worry, it’s here,” Beer Guy passed the joint back to Stone. “I’ll be right back.” He jumped down from the truck and moved to the hedge guarding the lot. He reached under some bru
sh and came up with a dented Thermos, the camouflage paint faded and dirty.

  He made his way back to where Stone was waiting and climbed back up into the truck, sitting beside him.

  He opened the jug and removed a plastic bag from inside. He handed it to stone. “Seventy-five hundred. You can count it if you want.”

  Stone shot him a look that could kill. “I don’t think you would rip me off. You’re smarter than that.”

  “So we’re done here.” Beer Guy asked, picking up the bag of pot, waiting for Stone’s permission to leave.

  “See you next time. Enjoy.”

  He jumped down, working his way out of the lot and to the alley beyond. Moving swiftly, yet inconspicuously, he disappeared from sight.

  Stone watched him retreat, started the truck and moved the giant beast carefully out of the lot and down the access road toward the highway interchange. I’m going to have to find out who his customers are, absorb them into my network, whether he likes it or not.

  Chapter Eleven

  Feeling mentally refreshed after the short ride, Hailey began to get changed. Pulling on her jeans and vest she felt her confidence solidify, bringing the biker to life one layer at a time.

  Her nerves jangled at the thought of seeing Jake Stone again. The possibility of another violent encounter made her pulse spike, causing her hands to tremble almost imperceptibly. She applied her make-up, while several scenarios ran through her mind.

  Would he be different than Grady, or would he be the same? Would he be sorry for what he did…or would he fight? Would he even show up?

  She briefly thought about what she would do if he didn’t show.

  It doesn’t really matter if it doesn’t happen tonight. Eventually I have to find him…and face him.

  Her cell phone began to vibrate, dancing around on the bathroom vanity. She looked at the number and groaned. Mom. What do you want now?

  She flipped open the handset and braced herself for another foray into the strange and challenging world of Joanne Barrow.