by James H Roby
“I’ll check with you guys tomorrow,” Jordan said. On E-Man’s shoulder rested Akio’s head. As such, he had no jokes or parting quips for Jordan. Just a bounce of his chin and the telescoping up of the window.
The limo moved on. Once down the service drive and onto the freeway proper, the stream of police cars, news vans and other limos thinned and traffic moved up to and beyond posted speeds. Jordan jogged across the street, zig zagging between the traffic. He rounded the corner to get to the UrbanKnights parking lot. The square blacktop was empty saved the white van and a pair of Honda Accords. He chose the gray one, popping the lock with the key he always carried. Behind the wheel, he was still for a moment, convincing himself his plan was the best course of action. With a twist of the key, Jordan made up his mind. It was time to call on Robin Summers.
Chapter Twelve: An Old Flame Burnt Out
The sky threatened with a storm. The streetlights bounced off the low canopy of clouds hanging over the city like the wrath of some angry god. Jordan’s mood matched the sky’s. The Accord’s engine acted like a bass line to the melancholy soundtrack playing in his head. Cody Random had crossed a line. Trying to kill him was one thing, but going after Robin…some things just weren’t done.
He clicked on the radio. The local news spoke of a disturbance at an event in the Cobo Center. A switch of the dial and the R&B station did a quick statement on gunfire downtown. Finally, Detroit’s home for hip hop mentioned something was going down in downtown. Cute. Jordan blew the tension out of his body as none of the stations reported any eye witness accounts of the shooters. He had fired a few rounds which embedded into the walls of the Cobo. He had no chance of getting the bullets out before the police began its investigation. He was going to have to switch guns. Which was too bad as he was just getting use to the one under his right arm. Still, it wasn’t a good idea to get too attached to a weapon. It was a tool, not a friend. Besides, he had six more P7Ms at home.
All of which was a problem for later. Jordan needed to focus on the fight ahead. It would be, in its own way, just as dangerous as the one he just left. It couldn’t be avoided. He had to get to the bottom of Robin’s involvement. If she was a hapless victim caught in the crossfire, he had to do everything he could to save her. If not…he’d rather not think about it.
He turned off the Chrysler Freeway at the 8 Mile exit. He knew where Robin lived. He always did. He knew after college, she spent some time in Japan and later Hawaii. He knew when she returned to Detroit. He was a former agent of the Defense Intelligence Agency turned private investigator – of course he knew. But he stayed away.
He pulled into the parking lot of an apartment complex just off Southfield Rd. They were the city’s effort to attract new, middle- and upper middle-class singles. Designed to look like townhouses, each unit had a short flight of stairs leading to each unit’s individual entrance.
He took to her stairs, bounding up two at a time. At her door, he rapped quickly, perhaps too quickly. He didn’t stop to think about it – he just committed. The wait made his stomach tighten. He was reminded of a not so different feeling the first time he knocked on her door.
The door opened and Robin stood in a heather gray Michigan State sweat suit. Her hairdo had collapsed around her ears, a victim of the rushed exit from Cobo. Still, he was stunned speechless.
"You!" Robin’s eyes narrowed. She swung the door shut, but he caught it in mid-swing. She drew in a breath through clenched teeth.
"I have to talk to you, Robin.”
She waivered left and right as if of two minds – let him in, don’t let him in. The battle ended and she stepped aside. He came into a living room. It was nicely furnished with a huge watercolor of a seascape over the couch. Something unseen floated in the air betraying the presence of a cat hiding.
Robin asked, "How did you find me?" Her eyes had a nervous energy as they went from his eyes to his hands and back again. He knew the look. She was looking for any signs of violence.
“It’s what I do.”
Robin sighed. "Look, Jordan. I ain't got time for this 'I'm the cool detective' role of yours. Say what you need to say and get out."
Jordan’s face tightened. He wasn't trying to be cool. He didn’t want to fight with Robin, something that was just one wrong word away. Being alone in her presence sent him into a maelstrom of emotions. Nothing was between them. No boyfriend marking his territory. No crowds of fashionistas. Her mere being was overwhelming. He tried to will away the tidal wave of emotion, the same way he did after his gun battle – but nothing. It had been more than a decade since they were alone together. That night ended in tears, but even then, the love he felt…there had been other women, some he truly loved – one more than others. Still…
He turned away from her and focused his attention on some nit-nats Robin had on a table. "Your boyfriend is a dangerous man. I wouldn’t feel right if I didn't warn you about him." His voice was a shadow of itself.
"Oh, really?" Robin answered, arms folded across her chest. "How...Noble of you."
Jordan whirled to face her. It was the second time tonight someone had made a pun of his name. It pissed him off. He fastened on that anger to get over the other emotion that engulfed him.
"Yeah," he said, "That whole thing at the Fashion Gala went down because of him!"
“Oh, is that right? I seem to remember you shooting at God knows what, not Kevin!" Robin pointed an accusing finger at his chest.
"I was being shot at by Small's partner, an international criminal!" The conversation was now a full-blown argument.
"You have got to be shitting me! You fucking…you never grew up. You’re not some sort of hero!"
Jordan opened his mouth but for a moment nothing came out. "You…you think I'm making this up? Well, did you know that your precious Kevin was a drug dealer before he came to Detroit, huh?"
"Yes, I did."
Outside, the first thunder of approaching storm boomed. Jordan was stunned for a moment.
"What?" Robin said, "You'd think he'd hide something like that from me. He's not like all men, you know."
Jordan let the last remark slide. Defending himself and his past action was not the issue at hand. "Robin, he's still dealing. The man I was trying to catch is his partner." He caught the edge working its way into his voice and focused on lowering his tone.
"You're lying!" She threw her arms into the air and brought them down on either side of her head. She turned and headed deeper into the apartment.
"Why would I be lying, Bird? Now come on!"
A moment of silence stretched into an impossibly long interval. Jordan wondered why Robin hadn't responded to his question, when it dawned on him.
Oh, shit.
"What did you call me?" Robin turned back to him. One wrong word. Jordan winced and wished he could pull the last sentence out of the air.
“Bird.”
All of Robin’s features expanded to their maximum size. "Don’t you ever call me that! You understand! Never!"
"I-I'm sorry, it slipped."
"Then why don't you slip on outta here! Go on, get!" Robin pointed to the door.
Jordan headed out. He put his hand on the doorknob. "Robin you're still in danger."
Robin took a step closer. "What do I have to do to get rid of you? Stop trying to save me! That’s your problem – it’s always been your problem!”
He wasn’t ready for that. “What?”
Her voice reached an impossible high note. “Get out! You're nothing to me! Hear me, nothing! Get the hell out of here before I call the police!"
Jordan said nothing. He touched a nerve. Got too close – unearthed some secret she rather stayed buried. Whatever it was, retreat was his best option. Head held down, He slipped out. The door slammed shut with a thunder drowning out the sobbing within for only a moment.
Drops of rain, the vanguards for the inevitable storm accompanied Jordan to the Honda. As he dropped into the
car, the storm begun in earnest. He cursed himself for getting too comfortable. Bird. How could he be so stupid? Given the pure hate she had for him, what else but rage could come from calling out her old pet name?
He contemplated his next move as the rain drummed down on the car. Without thought he put his hands in his pockets. He found the vial he captured from Random. Jordan studied the contents. A chalky yellow powder rolled around in the glass cylinder as he twisted it between his fingers. A quick glance to the dashboard and illuminated number reported the time. 11:37. Still time to check in on an old friend who could help him with the mysterious vial. He started the car and moved out.
~
Kevin Small returned to Unlimiteds after dropping off Robin. He didn’t want to leave a digital trail of phone calls to Random everywhere. Better to keep using the office. He clanked up the metal stairs of the office quarterdeck. The door was open – just slightly ajar. He reached and searched the wall for the light switch. A snap and the overheads ignited revealing a pair of the strangest white men he had ever seen. One was in a white dress shirt and black pants. The other looked like an extra from Westworld, complete with a floor length duster. They both had long unkempt hair, one darker than the other.
"Not the way I had planned on meeting tonight," the guy in the shirt said. Pain played in his voice as a thin trail of blood worked its way down his face.
“What the hell is going on?" Small shouted. He stood transfixed in the doorway for awkward seconds. His eyes bounced between the strangers.
"My...associate." the seated man gestured weakly, "Mr. er, Slash."
Small caught on. This was the mysterious voice on the phone. Not at all what Small envisioned. The man seated at his desk was slight with stringy blonde hair. Not the figure of power Small was coming to expect. “You’re Cody Random?”
The blond inclined his head. He was involved in the gunfight at Cobo judging by the gunshot wound to his arm.
"Calm yourself, Kevin, old boy," Random said. A wince of pain brought Slash to his side. He began a crude field dressing to Random's arm.
“That was you at the Gala, wasn’t it?” Small asked.
Random said nothing. Slash however flashed a scowl. Small entertained the idea of fleeing the room but Random’s voice froze him in place.
“Sit down.”
Small sat, not even commenting on the fact that he was sitting in a client’s chair and Random was behind the desk. His desk.
“I have a confession to make,” Random said, rocking back in the chair. “My dealing with you is not my primary motivation for being here.”
Small shook his head. “What? What are you talking about?”
Slash eased around the desk closer to Small. He saw the man in the duster but his focus remained on Random.
“I have an old score to settle,” Random said, “with Jordan Noble.”
Small was on his feet. His face was etched in anger. “The detective? That guy who use to see Robin? But, why?”
“He is an enemy of mine.”
Small pounced toward the desk and brought his face inches from Random. Behind him, Small sensed movement from the Slash character. A slight gesture from Random halted him.
“Nothing has change,” Random said, “as far as you are concerned.”
Small stabbed a finger in Random, “Look, any games you got with Noble, that’s all you. Just leave me outta it!”
Random leaned back and waved a dismissing gesture. “My friend -”
“No!” Small said. “This guy is trouble! Bustin’ up in my place. Doin’ the Wild West routine at the Gala. No way. No way, man.”
Random’s face transformed. Red colored his features. Eyes narrowed. The glance froze whatever words Small had in his throat. Random stood up and Small backed away and bumped into Slash. He was between a rock and a hard place.
“A deal of this magnitude requires some risks,” Random said slowly.
Small’s next words felled clumsily from his lips. “B-but I’m taking all the risks.”
Wordlessly, Random gestured to his injured arm. Small squirmed as his argument fell apart.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Small said. “No one was supposed to know about me.” It wasn’t his finest moment as his voice cracked.
Random walked around the desk, his hand to his chin. He nodded. “I don’t know how Noble secured your identity. He is apparently quite resourceful.”
“Too damn resourceful!” Small gestured and bumped into Slash. Reminded he was surrounded, Small untensed and dropped his shoulders. Random stopped directly in front of Small and leaned on the desk.
“I take it,” Random said, his voice a low rumble, “you would prefer to not have further dealing with Noble?”
Small studied Random’s expression to determine what answer he wanted to hear. The face was blank and devoid of emotion.
“Well?” Random’s voice was low but it caused Small to jump nevertheless.
“No.” The word was formed quickly.
“I suspected as much.” Random walked towards a water cooler in the corner. He drew from the cooler and drank slowly. He repeated his actions. Small tapped his foot as he waited.
“I propose that we distract Noble’s attentions away from our operation.”
Small shook his head. “I don’t follow you.”
Random went through his drinking routine again. “What do we have that Noble wants?”
Small’s face was blank. A second later, his eyes bulged. “No!”
Off to the side, Slash chuckled, a quiet, humorless sound. Random walked toward Small. Gently, he placed his hand on Small’s shoulder. “It’s the only way. You know that.”
Small reached down for internal fortitude. “No, there’s got to be another -”
“Kevin, this is a multi-million, billion, dollar operation. Do you want to risk it?’
Small shook his head.
“Besides,” Random worked his arm around Small’s shoulder and led him to the door, “You can get another, any that you want, once this is over. It’s not like you were in love, right?”
They reached the door. Small paused as he muddled over Random’s last question. “No.”
Random reached and opened the door. He gently pushed Small out of the room. Never mind it was his office.
“Not to worry, my friend. Just take care of your end, and I will distract Noble.”
“But...”
“Fear not.” Random smiled. “She will be unaware of your involvement. Go home! We’ll let ourselves out.”
~
Random closed the door. Through the glass, he watched Small disappear down the stairs. Behind him, Slash approached.
“When we gonna off this spade?”
Random turned, “Tis, tis, Slash, such language. Political correctness. Mr. Small will be eliminated as soon as his usefulness is no more. For now, alert your comrades, there is much to do if we are to...distract Noble.”
Slash smiled and actually licked his lips. He sped from the room. Random, alone, allowed himself a wicked smile.
“I wonder what she tastes like, this, Robin Summers.”
Chapter Thirteen: Jordan Noble to the Rescue!
Jordan hardly noticed the rain following him down the Lodge Freeway from Southfield to the New Center Area. It was coming down in buckets but his sole focus was reaching Henry Ford Hospital before midnight. He glanced at his dash clock. He was just going to make it. Now, if she was just there…
The hospital was a massive collection of rectangles that loomed over the freeway. A huge old school building that will be here after the nukes fell. Jordan exited the freeway and headed west down Grand Boulevard. He drove to the rear of the hospital to a small parking lot. He quickened his pace as if that would avoid the rain. He opened the door below the sign THE HENRY FORD COMMUNITY MEDIAL UNIT. It was an experiment of the hospital to relieve the burden on its emergency room. Too many under insured patients ov
erran it with routine visits.
He got inside and all his senses were assaulted. The waiting room was filled to capacity with people of every shape, color and size. Somewhere a child was screaming his head off. Presently, another kid picked up the chorus. The smell of disheveled persons and various bodily fluids combined to concoct an atmosphere almost made Jordan vomit.
“We close.” an overweight security guard barked. Jordan flashed him a look of contempt.
“IRS.” As at Unlimiteds, the big guard backed off. Jordan made his way to the receptionist. She sat behind a bulletproof glass. She slid a small door in the glass open an inch and leaned her round chocolate face into the gap.