by Mike Ryan
“Yet?” Jones said.
“You don’t think I could handle a kid?”
“That’s not...”
“You think I’d be a bad father?”
“No...”
“So, what is it?”
Jones figured there was nothing he could say at that moment that would satisfy him or end the conversation, so he thought it best to move on. Jones closed his eyes and scratched the side of his face as he collected himself. He tried to get their discussion back on track to what Recker’s original problem was.
Jones clasped his hands together. “Can we get back to what we were originally talking about?”
Recker stared at him for a few seconds. “Which was?”
Jones put his hand on his head, almost sorry he asked to begin with. “Something in regard to Mia.”
“Oh. Yeah. So, we were talking this morning at breakfast...”
“Is this before or after your little escapade?”
“Can you just let me get back to telling my own story without interrupting with questions pertaining to my love life?”
Jones couldn’t help but chuckle. “By all means. Proceed.”
“And it was before.”
“How enlightening.”
“Anyway, Mia was talking about taking a… vacation.”
“And she wants you to take some time off to go with her.”
“How’d you know?” Recker asked. “Did she already call you or something?”
“No, Mike, she hasn’t called. But it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”
“Oh.”
“So, what was your reply?” Jones asked.
Recker threw his hands up. “I don’t know, what was I supposed to say?”
“Did you say anything?”
“I just said I couldn’t make any promises and I’d talk to you about it.”
“Oh, great, so now if you go back to her and say no, she’s going to think I put the kibosh on it and she’ll be mad at me for you not going.”
“I said I’d talk to you about it,” Recker said. “I didn’t say it was up to you.”
“Well that’s basically what you’re implying.”
Recker sighed. “Yeah, I know.”
“So, what is it that’s bothering you about this? You don’t want to go?”
“No, that’s not it.”
“You think if you go you will be escaping from here and running out on your responsibilities? Or is it you think if go you will somehow be letting us down or we’ll think less of you? Like you are not doing your job anymore.”
Recker made an expression that indicated his friend hit the nail on the head. “Yeah, I guess that’s probably it.”
Jones immediately tried to quell his fears. “Mike, when you took this job, when we started this, I never said it had to be a twenty-four hour a day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year job. Now, I know we haven’t taken much time off in the last few years, but I don’t think that’s been out of necessity. I believe it’s been more because our life mostly revolved around here. That is no longer the case. At least not for you.”
Recker’s shoulder slumped as he thought of his situation even more. “I guess part of it is I feel like I’m being pulled in two different directions. On the one hand, I love Mia, I wanna spend more time with her. I wanna be the man she sees and deserves.”
“And the other hand?” Jones asked.
“Part of me gets pulled to here even if I don’t need to be. I feel like if I’m not here at least ten hours a day that I’m shirking my duties.”
“Mike, that’s never been an issue. You have always put in your time.”
“I guess I don’t want to disappoint you guys. You especially.”
“That’s something you never have to worry about. This operation we’ve got going on has far surpassed my expectations when I first had thoughts of it. And you’re a big reason why.”
“I guess maybe it’s just things are different now,” Recker said. “Things have changed. Change is hard for me. It’s never been something I’ve accepted very well. I’ve always struggled with it.”
“Change is inevitable. In our professional lives, in our personal relationships, nothing ever stays the same. We are always in a constant state of flux. The world spins around and we have to try to adapt to whatever is thrown our way. You either accept it and change with it or you reject it and wither away and die. That’s the decision we all face.”
“You always have a way with words.”
“I think you should go,” Jones said. “Not right this minute, but when this thing with Vincent is settled, when things die down a little, maybe a few weeks or a month, I think you should take her and go away for a week.”
“You really think so?”
“I do. I think it would be good for you. Clear your mind, rejuvenate a little. There’s more to the world than this little office and those streets out there. It won’t blow up because you leave for a week.”
“I would hope not.”
“And if there’s one thing I know about women, which albeit is not much, is you have to make them feel wanted and important. Or someone else will.”
Recker nodded, feeling like his mind was made up on the matter.
“Besides, that is one of the reasons we brought Chris on, to take some of the load off your shoulders. Right?”
“Well, yeah, but not so I could see the world and leave you two guys behind.”
“Mike, it’s for a week. You don’t have to feel like you’re abandoning anybody. It’s really OK.”
“Yeah, this time it’s for a week,” Recker replied. “But what about after this? What about a few months from now or next year when she wants to keep taking things further.”
Jones smiled, thinking his friend was completely overthinking and reacting to this. “Such as?”
“This time it’s a vacation. But next time might be wanting me to do something else, change jobs, move away, start a family, take things to another level.”
“It’s like I said about change, it’s always happening. Emotions change, feelings change, what we think today might be different tomorrow. When I first asked you to get involved in this, nobody said it had to be forever. We were taking things one day at a time. We never said we had to do this until we’re eighty and they’re putting us in the ground. Even me, who knows, maybe one day I’ll decide I’d like to try my hand at something else.”
“You really believe that?”
“Who’s to say? Maybe one day I won’t get the same level of satisfaction or I’ll feel differently about what we’re doing. It could happen. But I’m willing to roll with the punches as they come. I think you need to be more willing to do the same.”
Recker nodded, sliding off the desk and onto his feet. “Good talk, Dad, thanks,” he said, tapping Jones on the arm.
Jones shook his head, trying not to show even the slightest bit of a smile as he watched Recker walk out of the office. “My pleasure, son.”
5
Recker had been sitting outside Donald Little’s house for nearly an hour, as he usually did when staking out someone new for the first time. He’d seen a few people come in and out, none of whom looked to be of the friendly variety. There also didn’t seem to be any great security detail either. Though Recker did notice a man at the top of the long circular driveway, it seemed as though anybody could go in. There wasn’t a gate at the end of the property to keep anyone out. Little’s house wouldn’t be considered a mansion, but it was a large house with five bedrooms, four bathrooms, three-car garage, swimming pool, and all the extra amenities one would expect in a house like that.
After sitting a little while longer, Recker figured he’d seen all he needed to make a move. Watching the house for two hours gave him enough perspective to know how to handle the situation. He got out of his car and walked across the street to Little’s property, walking up the long driveway. The guard, dressed in an expensive-looking suit, saw him coming but did nothing to stop his
approach. Once Recker got relatively close, the man put his hand up to stop him from coming any closer.
“What kind of business you got here, bud?” the man asked.
“Oh, just wanted to talk to Little.”
“Yeah, you and a bunch of other people. Nobody gets in without an appointment though.”
“Oh, you need an appointment.”
The man nodded. “Yep.”
“Oh. Well how do I go about getting one of those?” Recker pleasantly asked.
“Let me put it this way. If you don’t know, you ain’t getting one.”
“Oh, so it’s like that, huh?”
“It’s like that.”
“I don’t suppose if I slipped you a few bucks under the table you could amend that policy, could you?”
The man didn’t reply, and instead, just stared at Recker with a menacing scowl on his face. That was all the answer Recker needed, not that he seriously expected his offer to work.
“No, I guess not,” Recker said.
“Take a hike, man, and go through the proper channels.”
“Well, how am I supposed to go through the proper channels if you won’t tell me what they are?”
“Figure it out. If you don’t know, you don’t know the right people.”
“And here I thought I knew pretty much everybody.”
“Guess not,” the man replied.
“Sure you won’t change your mind?” Recker asked, getting ready to take matters into his own hands. “This is your last chance.”
“Last chance for what?”
“To not have to go to the hospital.”
The guard laughed, finding Recker more comical than an actual threat. He put his hand on Recker’s shoulder and gave him a push to spur him on to leave the property. Recker immediately grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it around, causing the guard to moan as the pain radiated through his arm and shoulder. Recker then stepped under the twisted arm, and delivered a hard kick to the man’s gut. With the guard hunched over, Recker unleashed several overhand punches to the side of the man’s head, causing him to fall over. Though the man was hurt, he wasn’t yet incapacitated, which Recker needed to happen. Recker took out his gun and walloped the man over the back of his head, knocking him out cold. Recker felt the man’s pulse, to make sure he wasn’t more seriously hurt. Though he was sure the man probably wasn’t on the proper side of the law, he didn’t have any motive to kill him, yet.
Recker didn’t want to leave the guard lying on the ground in full view of anyone who might be going by so he grabbed the man underneath his arms and dragged him over to the front door. He figured he could stash him inside once he got in. Recker rang the doorbell and patiently waited for someone to answer. He didn’t even seem concerned he had a knocked-out guard lying next to him. It was almost like an afterthought.
Recker rang the doorbell two times as he waited for the door to open. Finally, it did. Another rougher-looking gentleman appeared, also dressed in a nice suite. He immediately saw the body of the other guard and got on high alert.
“What happened here?” the man asked, putting his hand on the front of his jacket. Recker assumed the man had a gun inside it and was ready to pull it if necessary.
“Oh, I dunno, man, I happened to be walking by and saw this man passed out in front of the driveway there,” Recker said, pointing to the area the man used to be standing. “I figured I should bring him up to the house so whoever was here could take care of him.”
“Oh. Thanks. Did you see anyone else near him?”
“No, man, didn’t see a thing. It was just him. If you want, I’ll give you a hand getting him inside.”
“Thanks.”
The guard removed his hand from his jacket, seemingly no longer feeling a threat from the stranger. He stepped outside and walked around the passed-out guard’s body, ready to pick him up. Recker quietly moved in back of the man and withdrew his weapon again. And once again, he batted the back of the man’s head with his gun. The man immediately slumped to the ground, partially on top of the first guard. Recker also checked his pulse and was satisfied with his work thus far. He was two for two.
With the door open, Recker quickly took a peek inside the house. With no one else coming, he looked back to the fallen guards, wondering if he should drag them in or leave them where they were lying. They were on a small covered porch, hardly noticeable from the street, if at all, leaving Recker to figure they were OK staying where they were. Recker then went inside the house and locked the door, wanting to make sure nobody else came in. If the men woke up, he didn’t want to be surprised by them. By locking them out, he assumed he would hear them making a ruckus to get back in the house or if they improvised trying to get in somewhere else.
Recker hadn’t been in the house for more than thirty seconds before he saw another man approaching him. By the man’s appearance, and considering he was dressed like the others, Recker assumed he was another guard. The man seemed to make a beeline for Recker.
“Can I help you?” the man asked, seeming like he was a little taken aback at seeing the stranger’s presence.
“No, I’m good.”
As soon as Recker uttered the words, he uncorked a right hand that landed flush on the man’s nose, stunning him and knocking him back against the wall. With the man glued to the wall, Recker took advantage of his position and kneed him in the stomach, then delivered a few more punches to the man’s face. Then Recker took the back of his head and repeatedly threw it against the wall behind them, creating a hole in the wall as a remembrance of the activity. Somewhere amongst the head bashings, the man passed out and slipped out of Recker’s grasp, sliding down to the ground. With the man out of commission, Recker took a look around, hoping that was the last of the guards.
“Hope there aren’t too many more of these,” Recker whispered to himself.
Recker quietly walked through the hall and into a few rooms, finding the place eerily quiet. It was one of those times when it felt like somewhere along the way, someone was going to jump out on him and try to get the drop on him. It wouldn’t have been the first time. But this was not going to be one of them. After he went through each room on the first floor, he found the house empty. He was starting to worry Little wasn’t even there at the moment.
“Hope I didn’t do all this for nothing,” Recker said.
Recker walked through the kitchen until he came to a sliding glass door that led to a patio area. He stood there looking through it, seeing a man sitting at a round glass table, reading a newspaper. His back was to the door Recker was looking through. Recker, still feeling a bit uneasy thinking he may not have found the last of his trouble, took one last look around before heading out to join the man. Recker slid the door open and stepped outside, beginning to walk toward the seated man he assumed to be Little.
Once Recker got to the table, he stopped next to the man, pretending nothing was out of the ordinary. He saw some caviar on the table and helped himself to a spoonful. Never having the chance to have any before, Recker eagerly tried it, always wanting to see what it tasted like. Once the spoon left his mouth, he made an agonizing face as he licked his lips.
“What’d I tell you about eating that stuff?” Little asked, not bothering to look up at his visitor as he continued reading the paper. “You know, I was just reading about this guy…,” Little said, suddenly looking up. The newspaper fell out of his hands as he jumped in his seat a little as he wondered who was standing next to him.
Recker still had a nasty look upon his face from the caviar. “Too salty.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“How does anyone eat that stuff?” Recker asked, walking around the table and sitting down across from his host. “I mean, do you actually like that?”
“It’s an acquired taste,” Little answered, taking a look back to the house, wondering where his guards were.
“Oh, if you’re looking for your goons, they’re all taking a nap right now. They’ll be f
ine in a little while except for the bumps on their heads.”
“Who are you, and what do you want?”
“Just wanna have a nice little chat with you,” Recker said, taking a look around. “Nice place you got here.”
“Cost a fortune.”
“I bet. You have maid service?”
“Of course.”
“I figured you were the kind of guy who had people come in.”
Little smiled, assuming the man had some type of business proposition to make to him. “Are we going to just talk about my comfortable lifestyle or are you going to tell me who you are and what you’re doing here?”
“I’m getting to it.”
“The suspense is killing me,” Little said.
“Better hope that’s the only thing killing you.”
Little took a sip of his drink as he impatiently waited for his visitor to proceed. He looked up at the bright blue sky. “Sun only has a few hours left in it today. I certainly hope we have a resolution to whatever this is by then.”
Recker smiled at him. He seemed cool and collected. Here was a stranger in his house and he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by it. He had to know Recker was dangerous by now seeing as how he took out all the guards along the way. But Little wasn’t rattled or nervous. Recker could tell this wasn’t the man’s first meeting in dangerous circumstances. He knew how to handle himself. Little was a middle-aged man, in his late thirties or early forties, but had a youthful appearance. Most people would have figured he was ten years younger than he actually was. He was of average height and weight with a full head of hair that looked like he just came out of a nineteen-eighties television show. He didn’t have a particularly gruff appearance, and most wouldn’t have assumed him to be in this line of work. But it usually served to his advantage as he stayed out of the limelight as was his preference. He didn’t seek attention but loved the money and lifestyle the business afforded him.
“Let’s talk about Vincent,” Recker said.
“Who?”
“Maybe you’ve heard of him. Powerful mob boss, connections everywhere, head of the major criminal element of this city. You recently sold guns to his enemies which helped kill several of his men.”