Potts Better Butter Bakery

by S. D. Anderson

  “Mom, you never told me anything about him. I never knew he was like that,” Gina began to tear up again.

  “Well, now you know. He wasn’t a bad man, Gina, only caught up in circumstances. I really loved him. Being involved with the mob was like that. I think he would have preferred a different lifestyle but didn’t know how to do it. He was too deep into the rackets and all those other sordid deals.,” Connie said with deep sadness in her voice. “Try to remember him as a good man and a good husband and father, Gina, even though you were young when we left. Up to that time, he tried to be.”

  Gina listened with tears glistening in her eyes, “I will, Mom, I promise.”

  Fritzie and Bugsy were listening to this conversation with great interest.

  “Bugsy, are those tears?” Fritzie asked, grinning.

  “Naw, just some sand in my eyes, and don’t you dare laugh, Fritz, or I will never forgive you.”

  “Why did you risk everything and come to the Cape, Bugsy?”

  “I was hoping we could start again, Connie and me, I sold my interest in the casino to the mob, they can have it. That gave me some money and made it possible to come here to try and find her. Honest, Fritzie, I cleaned up, no drinking, no drugs for months, I wanted to be good for Connie, like I used to be when we first met.”

  “Jeeze, Bugsy, I never knew.”

  “Too late now, though, those B*** found me here and Lavinio ‘The Knife’ Torino followed me and did the deed.”

  “How do you know it was him?”

  “His trademark was an ivory handled knife. One was stuck in my back. I would like to get my hands on him!”

  “I think he is still here on the Cape. Why?”

  “He probably wants the reward both for me and the loot!”

  “There was a contract out on you?”

  “Ya, fifty grand.”

  Fritzie gave a low whistle, “They really wanted you, Bugsy!”

  “Not me, stupid, the loot, it’s worth Trillions!”

  “Jeeze!” was all Fritzie could say.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Later that day.

  “Archie, I’m sending Mike McGregor over to give you a break, besides, I need you. Tell Indica the change of plans.” Matt spoke into his cell. “Is the baby all right?”

  “Baby’s fine, Indica is getting a little worried. The girls left their cells at home because of the funeral and we have no way of contacting them,” Archie told him, “heard anything?”

  “Not a word yet. We placed an APB on the limo and the other towns have the info, although my guess is that they left the limo somewhere.”

  “What about the rental agency? Has it been returned?” Archie asked, hopefully.

  Thanks, I’ll check again, meanwhile fill Mike in and get back here.”

  Williams peeked around the corner, “Sarge, the limo has been returned to the rental agency. They found an envelope on the front seat addressed to you.”

  “When?”

  “A few minutes ago. Want me to send one of the guys to get it?”

  “I’m on it. Where’s my unmarked?”

  “Out front where you left it, Sarge,” Williams told him as he left the doorway to answer another call.

  Matt grabbed his weapon, checked it, holstered it, threw on his mackintosh and scrambled out the door. He jumped into his car and laid down rubber as he took off for the rental agency, his thoughts in turmoil.

  Obviously, the girls are somewhere. Where? Who returned the limo? Where’d the envelope come from? Cripes, Connie, Gina and Sativa were in that limo. Were they hurt? Were there any blood stains in the car? Were they killed? No, they need them for ransom. OMG, where are they?

  He arrived at the car rental place and willed his wild thoughts to stop.

  I’m a cop. I was born a cop. I’ve been a cop for years.… I save lives, remember? What’s wrong with me thinking like that?

  He reached the rental agency in record time, parked in an open spot, and stepped out of his unmarked walking slowly onto the lot doing recon. The stretch limo was parked to the side and a young man was hosing it off preparing to wash it down. Matt walked over and introduced himself, flashed his badge, offered his hand. The kid wiped his hand on the side of his pants and shook Matt’s with a steel grip.

  “Would you mind if I check out the inside?” Matt asked, willing himself not to shake the blood back into his fingers.

  The kid nodded and opened one of the doors.

  “Has anyone cleaned the inside, yet?”

  “No, I’ll do that after I suds it down and polish it,” the young man replied.

  “May I?” Matt motioned to the inside, “I want to take a quick look.”

  “Help yourself, I found the envelope sitting on the front seat and gave it to the boss. He has it inside.”

  “Did you find anything else?”

  “Yes, a little gold locket that was on the floor. The boss has that, too.”

  Matt climbed inside the limo, fished around the seats, down the sides, and all along the back. He crawled down onto the floor and searched there. Nothing. Satisfied, he scuttled out, closed the door, and nodded his thanks to the young man

  He walked over to the rental office, climbed up the a few steps and stepped inside closing the door quietly. The ‘boss’ was on the phone making another rental appointment. Matt waited patiently until he hung up. Then he introduced himself, flashed his badge and smiled.

  “I’d like to ask you a few questions about that limo, if I may,” Matt began politely. The ‘boss’ swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing and a trickle of sweat ran down the side of his face, which Matt observed under lowered lids.

  “Did you know the driver who picked up the limo?”

  “Never seen him before,” came the answer.

  “Can you describe him?”

  Matt fished his notebook and a pen out of his raincoat pocket.

  “Short, clean-cut, dressed like a limo driver in a black uniform, black shirt, black tie and black drivers’ cap with a visor. He signed his name Antonio DeSanti and his drivers’ license matched. Nevada license, though, but we’ve been getting a lot of visitors from there lately, all renting cars. Press, mostly all from Nevada. Must be some kind of convention. This rental was strange, though, called in two weeks ago to reserve a ‘stretch black limo’. Thought it might be for a wedding. We do a lot of those.” The ‘boss’ was wiping his face with the back of his hand, nervous-like.

  “Can you tell me anything else?” Matt asked.

  “Look, I ain’t done nothing wrong, just rented one of my vehicles. Everyone is so nervous lately. The driver returned the car, paid the bill in cash and left.”

  “Did someone pick him up?” Matt asked, writing down the info in his notebook.

  “Yah, now that you mention it, a big black Bentley. That car had Nevada plates on it, too. Nice car, and I did get that plate number. I have it right. Here.” He jotted it down on a post-it-note and handed it to Matt.

  “Thanks a lot. That’s okay, we get a lot of out-of-state-cars here now. You have been very cooperative. I really appreciate it. I came to pick up the package. Can I have it, now?”

  The ‘boss’ reached under the counter and drew out a manila envelope and a small plastic sandwich bag with the locket. He handed both to Matt who nodded his thanks and gave a quick wave and left the office.

  Once settled behind the wheel of his unmarked, Matt started it and drove slowly out of the rental lot, his fingers itching to see what was inside the package. He drove back to the station and pulled into the back lot, killed the engine, and grabbed the envelope. He pulled out a folded sheet of paper. Opening it up, it was a typical ransom note. Were they that shallow? The words were printed with an indelible marker.

  Matt almost crunched the note into a ball as a fission of fear ran down his spine. He wanted to blow up the whole stupid mob for doing this, send them to hell in a handbasket he was so angry and he felt completely helpless. Dammit! He pounded the steering
wheel.

  He stuffed the note back into the envelope. It probably had other fingerprints on it as well as mine. I’m forgetting all proper police procedure, what’s wrong with me? No, those b******* probably wore gloves. It still should go to forensic but I want a copy first.

  He opened the plastic bag with the locket, pulled it out and gasped. “SHIT! That locket belongs to Sativa, I gave it to her years ago before she left for Nashville. She still has it. Wait, the chain is broken, it probably got torn off her neck when they grabbed her. If I ever felt like taking the law into my own hands, it’s right now. Archie needs to see this immediately if not sooner.” He muttered to the steering wheel.

  Matt slid out of the unmarked, tucked the envelope under his raincoat and headed into the station through the back entrance. He marched down the hall towards his office, nodded to Williams as he went by, stopped, pivoted around, and asked,

  “Where’s Archie?”

  “In your office waiting for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  He yanked the door open and strode in, grunting to Archie as he threw the envelope at him.

  “Take a look at this,”

  Archie was a good reader of his Sarge’s moods and from a quick glance as he retrieved the envelope, he sensed his boss was in a rage. A well-controlled rage, but never-the-less, he held his next thought and opened the envelope, unfolded the note, and gave a long, low whistle.

  “Are they really that shallow?” Archie asked as he laid the note carefully on Matt’s desk.

  “Make a few copies, will you before we send it to forensic. Fingerprints be damned.” Matt growled, his temper cooling slightly.

  “They mean business, Matt, this is a real threat,” Archie said in a low voice.

  “Dammit, I know that, and we have absolutely nothing to go on, not a single clue.” Matt ground out between clenched molars yanking off his raincoat, hanging it on the hook behind him and sat in his chair with a thump. “Now What?” he looked expectantly at Archie.

  Archie went over to the dry erase board Matt had mounted on his office wall, erased everything off and started to write:

  Funeral - 4:00 PM

  Abduction - 4:15 PM to 4:20PM

  Black Limo - 2 guys maybe more

  Connie, Gina, Sativa –

  Gina was shocked and pulled in

  Limo takes off out of cemetery - 4:30PM

  Heading west down 6A? yes …

  How many miles on limo???

  “We need to know how many miles on the limo so we can determine how far they went with the girls. From that we can determine approximately where they are on the map, it will give us an area…..” Archie summarized some of the information so far, “So you see Sarge, we do have something to go on,” Archie said tentatively.

  “Williams,” Matt yelled and Williams stuck his head around the office door. “Make 2 copies of the note, and send it in this envelope to forensic, then call the rental agency and find out how many miles they put on the limo when it was returned. They always keep a log for the mileage,” Matt instructed and Williams disappeared to carry out Matt’s orders.

  Matt handed the bag with the locket to Archie, “This was found on the floor of the limo.”

  Archie shook it out of the sandwich bag and examined it. “Any ideas?”

  “It was Sativa’s,” Matt choked out.

  Archie slid it back into the bag and handed it back to Matt. He knew about the history between Matt and Sativa, so he discreetly said nothing.

  “I’m not sending this to forensic, I’ll keep it with me.”

  Archie nodded, “How about some sandwiches while we wait?”

  “It’s going to be a long night, Archie, sandwiches and some good strong coffee, maybe. Is Williams on the late shift?”

  “Yah, I’ll ask him to make us a fresh pot of coffee and I’ll go get the sandwiches.”

  “Thanks, Archie, a Ruben would be great.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “I wish I had worn a jacket,” Gina shivered, her teeth chattering. The sand was becoming damp again from the heavy dew as the temperature dropped and a cold wind off the ocean picked up. Three girls were huddled together trying to keep each other warm.

  Fritzie and Bugsy were sitting on the cooler. Their teeth were chattering, too, “I feel bad for the girls,” Bugsy said through noisy teeth, “If it weren’t for me they never would have gotten mixed up in this,” Bugsy leaned over and started to pat Connie’s head but thought better of it, “she must hate me.”

  “No, she doesn’t hate you, Bugs, she said she loved you at the funeral, remember?”

  “Sure, then she threw dirt all over me, well, over the casket.”

  “She was supposed to, stupid, that was part of the service. Widows been doing that for centuries.” Fritzie tried to reassure his best bud.

  “Yah, but look where she is now, and my only daughter stranded on some island in the middle of the ocean. What a jerk I am.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna hide inside the cooler, no wind there.” And he dove nicely through the cover. Bugsy hadn’t attempted flying through hard surfaces yet, He took a deep breath and slid right through, nice and neat. He was pretty proud of himself.

  Their attention was diverted as the girls were about to make some changes.

  “What if we move up the beach and shelter in those trees?” Connie suggested.

  “Great idea, maybe we can get out of this breeze. Now I wonder why people love to come to the Cape?”

  They stood and moved the cooler and its current occupants further up the beach closer to the tree line. There were smaller scrub pines there which would offer some shelter and hopefully move them out of the direct wind.

  “Wish that man would hurry back,” Connie said as she huddled down in the small clearing they had found. The brush offered some warmth as it buffered the wind around the clearing.

  A bouncing flashlight beam was coming down the path to the girls right.

  “Hallo! Where did you girls go? I wasn’t joking when I told you not to go anywhere,” our rescuer called out trying to locate his charges. They stood and shouted loudly so he could find them. The beam came closer and Randy called out,

  “There you are. Moved out of the wind did you? Smart idea. Gets pretty chilly here until July, then it warms up a bit. Not so you’d notice, though. That’s why we have so many visitors and tourists, they come to cool off.” Randy chatted on,

  “Contacted the Harbor Master. He’ll be here in less than ten minutes, on his way to the Vineyard where he’ll drop you off. Great place, the Vineyard, you’ll love it there. Maybe even get the last ferry back to the mainland tonight. Think I hear him, great timing.”

  “How will we get to his boat?” Sativa asked, “should we swim?”

  “Got my high boots on, I’ll carry you out.”

  The Harbor Master swung his boat in towards the beach and dropped the anchor. Randy picked up Gina and waded her out to the craft depositing her on the aft deck.

  He came back to get Sativa and the Harbor Master was with him. One scooped Sativa and the other carried Connie and waded them out to the boat placing them gently down on the deck.

  “Want the cooler?” Randy asked.

  “Yes, please, Sativa answered, “If it isn’t too much trouble.

  Randy went back for the cooler. Sativa didn’t know why she felt it was necessary, but she was pleased that it would be with them even though it was mostly empty. He delivered it to the boat and waved goodbye as the Harbor Master pulled up the anchor and went forward to start the engine.

  The cooler’s current occupants were being incredibly quiet, Fritzie started to feel a little woozy as the boat started to roll with the waves.

  “Bugsy, I think I’m gonna be sick. What should I do?”

  “Seasick?” You were fine on the trip out, maybe you better go topside, get some air.”

  “Okay, you coming?”

  Bugsy nodded and followed Fritzie out of the c
ooler into the fresh air.

  “Better?” They settled on the aft deck in the breeze as it followed them towards the Vineyard.

  “Better,” was the reply.

  “Bye, Randy, thanks for the passengers. Take care. See you soon.” The Harbor Master called out as he changed his course and headed to Vineyard Haven. The girls were waving and calling out their thanks and goodbyes, also.

  “Some blankets in that chest over there, you help yourself. Gets breezy out on the water at night.”

  “Thank you,” they all chimed together, “we are a little chilly.”

  The girls pulled out blankets and wrapped themselves tightly, their shivers subsiding as they started to warm up.

  “Cabin is small but you’re welcome to squash in and get warm. We’ll be in VH in about ten minutes. Think we can make the last ferry. I’ll radio ahead and let Jim know we’re coming.”

  “Who’s Jim?” Sativa asked.

  “Captain of this ferry, I’ll call him now. For the record, my name’s Ned.”

  Ned worked the radio and the girls could hear the static and a voice at the other end.

  “Jim I got a few more passengers for you tonight. Think there’s room?”

  Jim chuckled and replied, “Yes, not many traveling back tonight.”

  “What time you leaving?”

  “9:30 PM sharp, can you make it?”

  “Easy, we’re almost there. What time will you dock in Woods Hole?”

  “We arrive in Woods Hole at 10:15PM.”

  The girls cheered hearing that news.

  “Thanks, Jim, see you in a few,” Ned called and signed off the radio.

  Sativa thought for a moment. “Could you get a message to Detective Sargent Matt O’Mara for us please?” she asked hopefully.

  “Sure, I know Matt. Good guy, helped me out of a scrape once. He your sweetheart?”

  Sativa blushed but no one noticed in the dim light of the cabin. “No,” she said sheepishly, “I’m certain he is wondering what happened to us.”