by Larry Brown
“I don’t know if my answer to those questions would fit your situation. I know I will always love Louise. I’ve had several very attractive women come on to me, but Louise was so perfect for me. Don’t get me wrong, I like to get laid occasionally but never more than that. Luckily there are some attractive women our age, and that’s all they want too. It works. As far as the lonely goes, I had my work. I just buried myself in it. I worked double shifts so when I got home, I just crashed and burned. I still miss her and I will always love her, but it is what it is, Harry, you need to find something to do. How about another book?”
“Clay, you’re right. I’m editing the screenwriter’s version of my two books, but that is a slow process. I want to write a prequel to the other books, but I haven’t started because of the amount of research I am going to need to do. I just haven’t been able to get my mind right to work. Oh, by the way, I took your advice and had my alarm system upgraded. It’s about 1000% better than before.”
“Good, you needed to do that, and Harry, you just need time, give it more time, it will get better. And by the way, you being sort of a celebrity as an author and a movie being made when you’re ready, you can have all the companionship you want.” Clay said smiling and laughing.
“All I want now is to head home, and put this old body in bed.”
“Are you okay to drive, I’ve plenty of room here, no shame in that.”
“It’s okay, Officer. I’m in good shape.”
Before Harry had cranked his car, Clay had called his dispatch and had them patch him through to Will Jackson who was patrolling the area between his house and Harry’s. He told Will to make sure Harry made it home safely without being obvious. Clay was uncomfortable with the attack at the Blakes. How many shootouts could a 72-year-old survive?
Chapter 9
“Clay, Will here, Harry Blake is home safe and sound.”
“Thanks, Will. Harry’s a good guy.”
“One other thing, Clay. When you called, I was very close to his home, and I swung by there before I ran him down. The place was pitch black, no lights at all. I had stopped at the end of his driveway and suddenly the headlights came on from down the street and what appeared to be one of those lowriders hot-footed it by me and out of the neighborhood. As you know, that’s not a lowrider neighborhood. I just thought you would want to know.”
“Thanks again, Will. Do one other thing for me. Before you check out, how ’bout making one more pass by his home.”
“Will do, Boss.”
The next morning Clay stopped by Harry’s on his way to his office.
Clay rang the doorbell and Harry greeted him in shorts and a flannel shirt.
“Come in, did I leave something at your place or you just couldn’t get enough of my charming personality.”
Clay smiling, “No, neither, serious subject, plus I could use some coffee.”
“I thought we covered all the serious subjects last night. How about breakfast.”
“Just coffee, I had leftover steak earlier, and it was still good.”
Harry poured the coffee and took Clay to the porch.
“What’s up?”
“Harry, one of my deputies happened by your house last night and said your place was black as pitch. Did you mean to leave the lights off?”
“No, Maggie was always in charge of lights. I didn’t even think about it until I got home. That’s not that serious, is it?”
“Not by itself, but, while he was here, a lowrider had been parked lights off in your cul-de-sac. When they saw the cruiser, they made a hasty exit from the neighborhood. It’s much better security if the lights are on at night. And Harry, I see you still got those gold coins in the same spot on the table. Why don’t you get a safe or a safety deposit box?”
“You are right about the lights, my error. However, I will not move my coins. I am sorry to hear about the possibility of what could be one of your Mexican gangs hanging around here. I guess after hearing about all those potential gang problems, maybe whoever steals the coins becomes the baddest of the bad. But Clay, it pisses me off. They are the same kind of thugs who killed Maggie and Belle. They may be thinking baddest of the bad, but I promise you I’m thinking deadest of the dead.”
“Don’t say that, Harry. You are 72 years old, and you don’t need to be in any more shootouts. You don’t hurt for money. Relax, enjoy your golden years.”
“What about you, Clay?”
“It’s my job, Harry! I like that we have become friends and I would like to think we could share a lot more evenings like last night, so don’t be foolish.”
“I do appreciate your concern, Clay; honestly I do. But if they come here, I will kill them.” Harry smiled, stood up, looked out at the lake for about a minute, turned back to Clay, and said with a sad smile, “Since you are concerned, you come here next Friday night and don’t bring anything. I have plenty of good wine and bourbon, and without Maggie spending my money, I have plenty of that too.”
With that Clay stood. “As I get to know you better, Harry, I’m beginning to think you might be a hard head. I got to get to work.” Clay turned halfway to the front door, “See you Friday, Harry.”
The next week was somewhat easier for Harry. He stayed busy. He sold Maggie’s car, canceled her insurance, and received her life insurance check minus the portion that went for the funeral. After everything, he ended up with about $50,000. He and Maggie both loved Samaritan’s Purse, so Harry sent a substantial check to them in Maggie’s name.
Harry then decided to find Clay’s cabin by boat. He went north and after about 45 minutes, found the big cove and Clay’s dock. He saw a big pine down in the water in the back of the inlet. It appeared to have been down for a while. He anchored the Lowe pontoon boat and began to work a green jig around the edges of the pine. No luck – he tried yellow, no luck again. Then when he was about to give up, he put on a white doll fly and bingo, the crappie wanted white. He boated and saved four hand-sized fish. He couldn’t wait for dinner and to tell Clay about the ‘honey hole’ he had found in sight of his dock.
When he was home and had cleaned and prepared the fish for grilling, he poured a Knob Creek and sat down on his porch. He became sad thinking about Maggie. She would have been thrilled with the crappie. She had a special touch frying fish. How many times had he caught catfish off their dock and Maggie would make his favorite breakfast of fried catfish, scrambled eggs, and biscuits. He would grill these fish; he just didn’t want the mess of frying without her. Grilled fish, yellow rice and sliced tomatoes and onions with a nice bottle of chardonnay. No white for Maggie or at least very rarely. She always preferred reds. God, he missed her. When his grief began to peak, he had to remind himself that she was in a far better place than him.
The week had gone faster than any since the ‘incident.’ Clay was right, he had to stay busy, and it had been a busy week. Speaking of Clay, the doorbell rang and the big man was at the door with a package in his hand.
Harry opened the door. “Clay, welcome but I told you not to bring anything.”
“I know, but I brought you some of the best homemade pork sausage in the south. It comes from Earls. Have you met Earl Brown? Earl’s Meats? His place is in East Union, and you are missing an opportunity if you haven’t been there.”
“I can’t wait to try it. Come on in, and tonight we are drinking Baker’s.”
Harry poured the bourbons, and they headed for the porch.
“You didn’t have to buy me sausage. Can I pay you for it?”
“Lord no, I didn’t pay for it. I’ll have to tell you the story behind the sausage sometime.”
Harry held up his glass, “The night is young, don’t you know writers love stories.”
"Okay, this goes back to when Louise was still alive. She was pretty sick taking big doses of nasty stuff, and her appetite had not been good. She called me at the office about 6:30 one night and said she was hungry for a change and wanted one of Earl’s big filets and we had no
ne in the freezer. She wanted me to swing by and pick some up for our dinner. This was Saturday, and I knew I would need to hurry because Earl closed at 7:00 pm. Sometimes it’s just hard to leave in a hurry. By the time I got to East Union, it was already ten after. I was just hoping I could catch Earl before he had gone. You will see when you go, Earl’s sits off the road on a massive lot with nothing else really close by. When I pulled off the road, I was relieved to see lights on, and a car was parked beside the building. The curtain was down on the glass front door indicating he had already closed. But why would the car be parked beside the store and not out front close to the door? With my job you get a suspicious nature, so I killed my lights and eased to the back of the store to see if I could see Earl’s pick-up. It was the only vehicle there. All the other employees’ vehicles were gone.
"I parked next to the pickup and took a chance that the last man out had not locked the back door. I was lucky the door was unlocked. I eased through the rear work area until I was close to Earl’s office and the front sales area. I looked inside the office and saw Earl lying on the floor tied up, gagged with a big cut on his head and bleeding. I pulled my weapon and moved next to the doorway and peered around the corner.
"There were two men with ski masks on, and they were filling up boxes with meat. Next to them were plastic bags that appeared to be brimming with cash. There was a lot of cash because it was Saturday. Friday and Saturday are his two biggest sale days and no bank open. The two men were laughing and talking about how well they had done, all that plus enough prime meat for a month. Beside one of the cash bags, there was a shotgun. I stepped in quickly and told them to hold their hands high. Both men were in a crouched position at the back of a big display cooler. I scared one of them so bad he actually fell over. They recovered and both stood, but only one held up his hands. I repeated my demand for hands up. The one on the right with his hands up repeated my demand and told his partner to put his hands up. The one on the left of them went hard for a pistol in his jacket pocket. I had no choice, I shot him, and he was dead by the time he hit the floor. The man on the right was now hysterical. He jerked his mask off and fell on his partner. He yanked his partner’s mask off revealing a much younger version of him. The man started screaming, ‘He’s my son, my son.’
"I told him I warned him twice. The older man was sobbing, ‘I know, I know, he don’t listen to nobody. Oh Lord, his mama’s gonna kill me.’ I got him handcuffed, freed up Earl and called for backup and emergency medical.
"Now finally the answer to the sausage. Earl knows Louise and her condition, so when I told him she wanted one of his filets, he ran to the cooler and got a whole tenderloin. Then he says, ‘I made sausage today,’ and he goes and gets a box with at least 25 pounds of fresh sausage. I told him I don’t need that much of either and he says, ‘That one, the young one, he was going to kill me. You not only saved my money but you saved my life.’
“Harry, he was hysterical, so I pulled out my wallet, and he started yelling, ‘Hell no, hell no, don’t even think about it.’ I told him my job wouldn’t let me take those things. He said, ‘Clay, you dumb ass, this is not for you, it’s for Louise,’ and he puts them in my car. So now I have 25 pounds of great sausage that I’ve been eating on for over a year, and I still have plenty, so enjoy.”
“What a story. It sounds like you may have saved Earl’s life. And by the way, do you mind if I use the story in my next book?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No, Clay, it’s a great story, so can I use it?”
“Harry, you are crazy, but if you’re serious, okay.”
“Thanks. Why don’t you refresh our drinks and I’ll show you how I make grilled salmon.”
In the kitchen, Harry took two salmon fillets and basted them with a mixture of dry white wine, lemon infused olive oil, and lemon juice. With the basting completed, he put salt, pepper, and chopped fresh dill on the filets.
“Now we let them sit a bit and then to the grill. Now back to the porch and I want to know about your family.”
They settled back in on the porch and Clay began.
“Well you know about Louise, and you know we had no kids. My folks are both dead. Our family has been in Polk County for probably a hundred years. I have one sibling, Andy. Andy’s spouse died 20 years ago and never remarried.”
Harry interrupted, “Runs in the family, I guess. How old is Andy?”
“Andy is 60 and lives on our family’s home place. Our family has had the property since our ancestors came here. My dad was a horse trainer and so is Andy. We have 50 acres at the tip of the lake. It’s beautiful; part woods, part pasture. Dad had built a big horse barn and a covered structure, I guess you would describe it as a place to work horses. Andy called it the equestrian center. The old home place was torn down years ago and Andy rebuilt a modern place. Andy owns four horses and usually boards four or five and trains them. The money is pretty good. I think you will like Andy. I’ll take you up for a meet and a meal soon.”
They finally sat down to eat. Harry had opened a bottle of Tavel Rosé.
“Excuse me, Harry, would you think it rude if I asked for say a dry chardonnay. I don’t want a sweet pink with this wonderful-looking meal.”
“I’ll be happy to, but only if you try the Tavel first.”
“Fair enough.”
Harry poured, and Clay sipped. Then he sipped again and again.
“I’ll be damned. Boy, was I wrong. Thank you, Harry, you taught me something. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize, just enjoy.”
The meal was grilled salmon with an accompanying sauce made of sour cream, horseradish, lemon juice, and capers. The salmon was served with a mushroom and spinach risotto and a caprese salad. It was a treat.
“Clay, don’t feel bad about the rosé; I bet I’ve converted more than 20 people over the years.”
“Harry, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think you need to be careful when you are here alone at night. I can’t get that lowrider off my mind. I get the sense this might be some kind of gang challenge. ‘Who can get Harry’s gold?’ You know like some stupid macho thing.”
“Clay, the alarm system has been so juiced up, if somebody comes in, I’ll have enough notice to be ready. I’ll be as armed and dangerous as they say.”
“I worry you are too cavalier about this, Harry. Loaded weapons are serious business.”
“I know, listen, they have this system set so I can hit one button and it calls your folks and says come help the old fart and fast.”
“I’ll shut up, but be careful, Harry.”
“Oh, Clay, I almost forgot. One thing before you go. I went to find your place by boat, and I found one of your little ‘honey holes.’”
“What are you talking about, Harry?”
“I eased the boat down to the back of your cove to where a big pine is half-way in the water.”
Harry took out his cell phone and pulled up a photo of four big hand size crappies.
“I was in and out with my meal in a half hour. I don’t know how many I could have caught if I had stayed. What a spot. You of course already knew that, right?”
“Heck no, I’m embarrassed, and in my own backyard. Harry, you are something! Will you tell me what you used?”
“White doll fly.”
Clay left shaking his head.
Chapter 10
Hector Wente was a 22-year-old Guatemalan who lived in the south end of Lakeview. The south end was where most of the Hispanics lived. There were families from Guatemala and EL Salvador mixed with the other families in the community who were mostly from Mexico. He had been in the U.S. for four years and hated being in such a rural area. Being at Pine Lake meant nothing to him. The only reason he stayed was that his family needed his paycheck to survive.
Hector wanted to be in New York and specifically Long Island so he could join the MS-13 gang. Since that was not going to happen in the near future, he along with four of his Guatem
alan buddies had formed a gang which they called MS-5. MS after the gang he admired and 5 for their number.
Hector was ambitious and reasonably smart. He knew the leaders of the two Mexican gangs. He didn’t like them and they didn’t like him. So far they tolerated each other. He knew a little about the black gangs. He thought they were stupid changas. They had let an old white man not only stop them from stealing the gold coins but they got themselves killed. They truly were stupid. They all tolerated each other at least for the time being.
Hector had decided they could raise their status if they could do what the blacks had failed to do. Part of his plan had been to secretly put together a lowrider that would appear to belong to the Mexicans. They had scouted out the house and the neighborhood and he had developed a plan. He just had to decide when to go through with it.
Chapter 11
The day had come when Clay was taking Harry to his family’s home place and meeting Andy. It was about a 45-minute drive to the horse farm and it was a beautiful ride. Lots of hardwoods, whose leaves were beginning to be in full color, framed the drive. Like Clay’s place, the house, barn, and equestrian center were over a hundred yards from the road. As Clay’s Tahoe came to a stop by the house, his phone rang. He told Harry he had to take the call and that he should take a look around. Harry got out of the Tahoe and could see a big fenced pasture off to the right. Oaks, maples, and pines surrounded the house.
There was a path from the drive going around the house which Harry decided to follow. The path wound its way through the trees and, as he could see, toward the barn. As he reached the barn, a most beautiful woman emerged. She was in jeans, boots, a green plaid shirt. She wore a cowboy hat, and red hair showed between the hat and her shoulders. She was tall, at least equal to him. Her face exhibited an outdoor lifestyle with loads of freckles and bright green eyes. As she looked at him walking toward her, a big smile came across her face. She was stunning. For a moment he didn’t know what to say.