by Mike Faricy
“Donnelly, Michael Donnelly. You know,” Huey said, scratching his head. “It rings a bell back there somewhere, but I just can’t place it, not the way you’re describing this guy.”
“That’s why I think you should check him out with some of your contacts, see what’s up. But be careful, if this guy is connected the way I think he might be, you don’t want to be fooling around. They aren’t the type to send warnings. They’ll just kill you instead.”
“Oh great, he’s connected.”
“Just ask around. In the meantime, I’ll check some more, see if I can find out anything else.”
“And why doesn’t it make sense that he’s just some loser?”
“Huey, you know, and I know, no one would be that stupid to try and rip you off for a measly hundred g’s unless he had that kind of muscle behind him. No one is that stupid, no one could be that big of a moron.”
Chapter 38
“Arghh, Jesus Christ, Mick,” Dell screamed. “You moron. Relationship. She actually used the word, relationship? Oh, this is just great. It’s not bad enough we bump into her at the War Bonnet. It’s not bad enough she takes you home to her bed. You get the bright idea to give her your phone number. Then, when she calls, you invite her over to your place for dinner, and load the two of you up on margaritas in those damn huge glasses you have.”
“Well, it’s not like she was going to be driving.”
“So, you take her to bed, at your place. You remember, the place you told me she’d never find, except that you gave her the address and directions. And now you’re worried because she has the idea you two are in a relationship. This is just great. You’re worried about being in a relationship and we have a better than fifty-fifty chance of winding up dead before the end of the week.”
“Is that it, are you through?”
“Through? We’re both going to be—”
Mickey raised both hands to silence Dell. “I’ve listened. Somewhere, in that tirade you may have a point. I mentioned this as just one pal to another, you know thinking maybe I could look for some support. However, it seems clear to me that in your present state of mind, that’s just a little too much to ask for. Okay, if it’s one thing I am, it’s understanding.”
“There are a lot of things you—”
“Let’s keep it positive, man,” he said and turned to rummage around in Dell’s refrigerator. He pulled out two beers, and handed one to Dell. “Hey, you’re almost out of beer, better start paying attention to what’s important in life.”
“Dell, I’ll be the first to admit it’s more than a little weird, here. Okay? But, then you’ve got to admit that just dealing in facts, we’re sitting on close to two hundred grand. Come on now, admit it. Just a nod of the head will do.”
Dell nodded, ever so slightly.
“Better, much better. Trust me here, man. I got a new idea and we’re going to get you working on that room there, get you focused on thinking positive. You’ll be glad to know I’ve got everything we’ll need listed right here,” he said reaching into his back pocket and handing Dell a two-page list of alterations for the basement room.
Chapter 39
Mickey sat alone on a stool in the War Bonnet Lounge. He’d been drinking coffee for the past hour. At forty-five minutes after closing he was more sober than not and headed home. He hadn’t driven more than three blocks, waging an intense internal discussion about the merits of calling Janice at three in the morning when suddenly an SUV appeared directly in front of him. He smashed into the rear while it sat at a complete standstill waiting for the traffic light to change.
Mickey’s tires screeched then jerked to a stop, slamming his face into the steering wheel, letting him know instantly that his nose was broken. The last thing he needed was a ticket for rear ending someone, driving while intoxicated, driving without insurance, or all of the above. He thought about throwing it in reverse and heading the other way then climbed out of his car.
The power window on the SUV slid down revealing a very, very attractive brunette. She took one look at Mickey holding his nose, bleeding all over his shirt and said, “Oh my God, are you okay? No, you’re not, you’re hurt, aren’t you, Sweetie?”
“The hell you doin’?” slurred her obviously inebriated companion. “Minding our own damn business and you plow into us like you own the damn street. Do you have any idea who I am? I could ruin you like this,” he said and attempted to snap his fingers two or three times without success.
He seemed older than her by a good generation, possibly two. He wore a starched shirt, suit coat, and loosened tie. His grey hair was close cropped hair, though formal he’d never be accused of being stylish. Oh yeah, and he was drunk. Very drunk. Much more than Mickey.
She had one of those skirts on, more of a belt than a skirt, fish net hose and a slinky white top. A granddaughter maybe? Maybe not.
“Torsten, dear, please shut up,” she said turning to her companion and patting him on the knee. “We don’t need a scene.”
“Maybe you’d like your fat ass thrown in jail. I could do it with one little phone call, throw you right in jail.”
Mickey didn’t know exactly what to say and so he just stood there, in the middle of the street, his head titled back, holding the bridge of his nose, bleeding all over the bourbon bottle design on the front of his shirt.
She smiled sweetly, communicating with Mickey that he should just ignore old Torsten. “Just a minute, we’ll be right back,” she said and raised the window.
Mickey stood there for a moment before the window was lowered and she thrust her hand out. “I’m sorry for any confusion. Hopefully, this will help compensate you for your time.” She smiled sweetly, as Torsten sat sullenly next to her in the passenger seat. She pressed something into Mickey’s hand, before raising the window and driving away.
Mickey watched their tail lights recede down the darkened street He opened his hand and counted out eight, hundred-dollar bills, stared at them as drops of blood splattered on the crumpled currency. He looked up again, could just make out her signaling a left hand turn at the light a few blocks down and in seconds he was driving down the street, speeding with his head tilted back, one hand on the wheel, the other pinching a new curve along the bridge of his nose.
He continued to follow, finally backing off, as they turned left into an underground parking ramp while he coasted to a stop at a traffic light. It was now or never and a quick glance left and right seemed to indicate the coast was clear. He punched it, ran the light and came along the ramp entrance just in time to get her license number.
Chapter 40
“Come on, Mick, knock it off, you’re gonna get me in trouble again. You know how I hate doing this shit,” Terry Hanson whined into the phone. “How come my job with the DMV means you get to find out private information on all our good citizens? Hey, you got a cold or something? You sound funny.”
Mickey ignored the question. “I’m a concerned citizen is all, just trying to help out, I see this SUV driving erratically on the way back from church Sunday morning and it almost hit some kids. I just want to make sure no one gets hurt, that’s all, just looking out for the welfare of children.”
“Yeah, touching,” Hanson said, sounding unconvinced. “It’s great you care about the youth of our fair city. And of course that makes it okay for me to risk losing my job looking up a license number for you.”
“What are you risking? Other than the steaks I was planning to drop off. Come on, I’d do it for you. Seems to me when someone needed the right palms greased after your little public urination charge it was just fine and dandy to call me to get the job done.”
“Damn it, Mick,” Hanson barked into the phone then lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’ve asked you before never to mention that.”
“And, I never have. Come on, man, it’s just between you and me, you know you can trust me.”
“Oh, man, why do I even answer the phone when I see it’s you calling? Okay, but this is th
e last time, and I want rib eyes, an inch thick. And get that damn cold checked out. You’re liable to give us all bird flu or something.”
It was two days before Hanson called Mickey back. “Mick, you okay to talk? Just what the hell are you into here?”
“What’s the problem?” Mickey asked, stepping out of his car and brushing cookie crumbs from his shirt.
“The problem is, that I didn’t buy your stupid tale about an erratic driver Sunday morning for starters. I mean, since when do you go to church?”
“It was the one time I—”
“Never mind. I figured you saw some woman, and she can have the pleasure of telling you to get lost when you call her and explain to her you’re the pig who was leering and creeping her out at some stop light. But then this name came up and I don’t know what sort of scam you’re thinking of running, but this is way out of your league.”
“So, who is it? The mayor?”
“No, it’s not the mayor. It’s Torsten Theisen, ring any bells?”
“The governor?”
“He’s not the damned governor, you moron. But close, he’s Speaker of the House and he is connected. Oh, and by the way, a real self-righteous type. So I don’t know what you’re up to and I don’t want to know. But be careful. And remember, you didn’t hear any of this from me. And those are one-inch rib eyes.”
“Yeah, got it, one inch, thanks,” Mickey said.
Yeah, Torsten, that’s what she had called him, Torsten, interesting.
Chapter 41
“There something on your mind, Janice?” Mickey said, reaching for the wine. His shirt had an emerald green background. Grass skirted hula girls on either side, the collar a white floral pattern with creamy centers on each flower, sitting like a lei around his neck. He was taking Janice to dinner, so he wanted to look especially nice, counting on the night to extend past dinner and into breakfast. It was their first real date.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” she replied, pushing her seafood dinner around the plate.
“Yeah, I can tell it’s nothing,” he said, thinking four little pieces of fish for thirty-five bucks. “That’s why you haven’t touched your entrée, you’re giving me one-word answers, and . . .”
“And what?”
“And, I just thought that since this is our first real date, I mean, I just want you to have a nice time is all. It’s important to me that you enjoy yourself, that this night is special to you, because, it’s really important to me, too.”
“Is it?” she said in a tone that made Mickey think he still might have a shot at a late night save.
“You bet it is. I mean our meeting was a little bit unusual.”
She rolled her eyes, but half laughed, and nodded.
“And, we’ve certainly gotten on well, since then.”
She shrugged, and smiled, maybe just the hint of a blush.
“So, this is our first date, out in public sort of speak. I mean under the circumstances, I’m taking a bit of a risk, you know, and I’m more than willing to do that.”
“You mean my mother’s husband?” she whispered leaning forward.
“Yeah, but you’re worth the risk. Really worth the risk.”
“Ahh, you’re so sweet. Mickey? I need to tell you something,” she said looking deep into his eyes.
“What is it?” he said, knowing since he’d had a vasectomy twenty years ago it wasn’t a pregnancy.
“I don’t do it on the first date.”
He froze for a moment, a look on his face like he couldn’t translate the last statement. “What?”
“I know it sounds a little silly, maybe, but I don’t have sex on the first date. It’s a rule I’ve always had, and since, well like you just said, this is our first date. I don’t want to have sex. Nothing personal, I mean it would probably be great, but I just can’t.” She sat up, suddenly relieved, picked up her fork and began to shovel food. “Oh relax, I’ll make it up to you.”
“This isn’t, I mean, yeah, okay it’s a first date, sort of. We’re all dressed up, I guess.”
“Yep,” she said, and shoveled another forkful into her mouth.
“But honey, we’ve been in bed, I mean, a lot. Come on, I know every square inch of your body and I love it. And you’re pretty familiar with me. So, I was just thinking, you know, what better way to celebrate our night out.” He was suddenly staying clear of the term ‘first date’. “What better way to celebrate, than to demonstrate the love we have for one another at the end of this wonderful meal.”
She seemed to consider his suggestion for a moment before putting her wine glass down and going for the fork again. “Mmm-mmm, no, not tonight. First date, and I don’t—”
“Oh, God. I know. I know. Oh, this is memorable.”
“Shhhh, not so loud. And don’t be mad, but I think it’s sweet that you are.” She reached across the table, squeezed his hand, then reached for her fork again.
Mickey had two bourbons for dessert and began to think about Torsten Theisen and the woman who was with him. What had she said, a public relations nightmare? That had him thinking.
Chapter 42
“Have you gone completely crazy?” Dell asked, not for the first time. “Why would the guy even care if we took her? How do you even plan to find the woman?”
“That’s what I’m telling you, I’ve already got that information,” Mickey said. “I know where she lives, and this is clearly a case where we just sell the sizzle, Dell. We let him think we have more information than we do. We make him think she’s talked to us. That she let us in on all the secrets they have, showed us a video or something, believe me, he’ll jump to all the wrong conclusions.”
“What secrets?” asked Dell.
“Well, for starters, I’ve done a little checking, seems old Torsten has been the representative from his district for the past twenty-eight years, he’s been at the public trough for at least that long.”
“So, what does that have to do with anything?” Dell said.
“The point is, he’s got a battle axe of a wife and a family up north. He’s presented himself as one of those holier than you or me sort of guys, and has those religious types electing him year after year to the legislature. All the while he’s got some hot little gal down here in the steamy old capitol city. How you think that’s gonna play up there in Glacial Springs?”
“Matter of fact, Dell, she’s the one who gave me the idea, this woman, yelling at that drunken fool the other night, telling him to shut up or he’d have a public relations nightmare on his hands. I mean that’s what the woman told him. You ain’t getting that out of some choir girl down here at a church meeting.”
“But you ran into them.”
“She wasn’t worried about the accident. He could have had me on a silver platter. He could have built this deal into a major whiplash with the right lawyer. Instead, what does she do? She tells him to shut up and hands me eight hundred bucks for the privilege of rear ending them, then races home. And that tells me two things, first she’s not some one-night stand. Second, he can’t be caught publicly with her because there’ll be some sort of big scandal. And three, she’s got something to lose, too.”
“That’s what happened to your nose, isn’t it? I thought it looked different, but I couldn’t quite figure it out, a new curve or something.”
“My nose isn’t the point. I think what I ran into the other night was one nicely kept little lady and her ‘Sugar Daddy’, Torsten Theisen, and he’ll pay to get her back if he thinks for even a moment that it might ruin him.
Chapter 43
Over the next week, Dell once again revamped the room. He had it down to a system, although he thought Mickey’s decorating choice of red on red left a little something to be desired. Mickey had shown up the night before with a Spider man mask and seemed more than a little miffed when Dell didn’t quite share his enthusiasm.
“Jesus, what is it with you, Dell? I mean you were mad about the paper bag, you did
n’t like the dog mask. Now, I get Spider Man, and that doesn’t turn your crank either. I mean, I’m about to give up here.”
“We all deal with the stress a little differently, you buy goofy masks, I worry, there, you have it.”
“Okay. How about after this woman, maybe we’ll just take it a little easy? I think we’re both sort of getting stressed on the whole deal,” Mickey tried to sound conciliatory.
“Stressed, you think? I mean, Mick, neither of the last two events went down anything like the way we planned. Tell you the truth, I’m just not sure I was cut out to be the kidnapping type.”
“Don’t think of it as kidnapping, Dell. Think of it as sales. You know, selling a product people want. And as far as not going the way we wanted, I don’t know. What do we have in those bags buried up at your lake place? I mean that ain’t just peanuts.”
“No, it ain’t just peanuts and we’re lucky we aren’t locked up right now, for the next hundred years. I’m just saying maybe we should give it a rest, that’s all.”
“Dell, we got more money than we ever dreamed of and as far as not working the way we planned, it did work, we got the dough. In this line of work we have to be a little flexible. Maybe that’s our real plan, just being flexible.”
“Well, Mick, I’m thinking we take a break, maybe forever.”
Chapter 44
Mickey continued his research, studying up on Torsten Theisen. When he wasn’t studying Torsten, cleaning the real estate office, or lapping up bourbon at the War Bonnet, he was hanging around Galtier Plaza, the downtown condo high rise, hoping to catch another glimpse of the brunette.