I shook my head and went back outside to the Supra. It took a few minutes to find the address on the city map — a small cul de sac in East Memphis between Poplar and Walnut Grove.
I pulled onto the street a little less than 15 minutes later. It was a nice neighborhood. The kind of neighborhood with swimming pools and German cars. The kind of neighborhood you might expect a doctor to live in.
I hope she hasn’t done what I think she’s done.
I found the right house. A two-story modern colonial with four large majestic columns in the front. White with black shutters and black double front doors. A large brick front porch. Single story brick additions on the sides. It was truly a beautiful, majestic home; however, the yard was a completely different story. It was atrocious. It needed sod. It needed plants. Who was I kidding? It needed everything.
I parked on the semi-circular, white cobblestone driveway, the only attractive feature in the front yard, and walked up to the front door hoping again she hadn’t done what I thought she had done. I rang the doorbell and waited. The light from the peephole went temporarily dark before the front door opened giving me a glance inside. I could see some of my furniture. She had done what I thought she had done. Some explaining was in order.
“Jessica, what the h—.”
Jessica stepped around the door with her finger to her lips. “Shh. Trust me.” She was wearing nothing at all.
Explanations could wait until morning.
***
The alarm in my head woke me up at six the next morning. Jessica lay next to me under the covers, still asleep. That was going to change. Fun is fun, but money is money, and it appeared she had spent a lot of it while I was gone. “Get up,” I said. She didn’t budge, so I nudged her. “Jessica, get up. What’s with the house?”
She stirred, yawned, stretched. Basically, she made a big spectacle out of stalling. “I guess it’s true what they say — absence really does make the fond grow harder.”
Despite my best efforts against it, I smiled. “I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”
“Well, maybe that’s the way it was intended, and someone simply wrote it down wrong.”
“Jessica, what’s with the house?” I said sternly.
“You like it?”
“Answer the question, Jessica.”
“Answer mine.”
“I asked first.” She slipped out of bed and stood naked in front of me in the middle of the room. “Please,” she said in a silly pleading voice.
I quickly glanced around at the spacious bedroom to humor her. “I like the bedroom,” I said as my eyes settled back on her.
“I’ll bet you do.”
“That’s not what I meant. You’re stalling.”
“I’m not stalling. I want an answer to my question first.”
“Fine, Jessica, put some clothes on, and I’ll answer your question.”
She grabbed her robe from the closet and put it on. “Alright, your turn.”
“What little I’ve seen of it looks okay. Except for the yard. That is one ugly yard. Now, what’s with the house?”
“I bought it.”
“I gathered that. Why?”
“To make money. Why else would I buy it?”
“Jessica, I need to get ready for work. Could you speed up the explanation?”
“Join me in the shower, and I’ll explain everything.”
“Is this how it’s going to be every time I need an answer to a difficult question?”
Jessica dropped the robe and walked to the master bathroom. “Maybe. We’ll see how well it works this time. Shower. Now.”
I walked to the master bath and entered the shower with Jessica. The shower was beautiful. Big enough for two people, ornate custom tile work with two shower nozzles on opposite sides.
“Alright, explain yourself.” I tried to sound firm, but my sexy wife was standing there with spray bouncing off her naked body, highlighted by bright lights overhead. I wasn’t going to win, and I knew it.
“The house is an investment. You know I’ve been looking for the perfect first project to cut my teeth on. Well, a local electrical contractor, the one you told me about, bought it but soon got in over his head when one of his other contractors stiffed him for 70 grand. The bank was gonna foreclose. I saved his bacon. Plus, I kept him on for the remodel because he did have great ideas. We should make 80 grand when it’s all over in a couple of months.”
I wasn’t about to argue with 80,000 dollars. Plus, Jessica had done a good thing for the electrical contractor. He would remember that. She explained the first level was finished except for the floors. The master bedroom and bath were the only rooms 100 percent finished. Jessica insisted we have that luxury while the rest of the house was being completed. I was convinced it was a good idea by the time we finished our shower.
I exited the shower, toweled off, fixed my moppy hair as much as it could be fixed, and started getting dressed. Jessica was back in her robe. “I have to ask, Jessica, did you put Boyd up to keeping me in Dallas an extra day?”
“I did. I needed more time to get all our stuff moved over. I didn’t want you to have to help, although I didn’t know how you wanted your gym equipment set up in the basement or what to do with all your tools. The tools are still in the loading dock, all locked up, and your Cobra is parked in the garage downstairs.”
“One thing, Jessica, why’d you empty the apartment and move it all over here? We already had a bedroom and bath over there.”
“Because your apartment is gone.”
“Gone?”
“You should have split that up into apartments when you bought the building. You’ve been losing four or five grand a month in rent for the last three years. That’s 180,000 dollars, sweetie. I’m putting in three upscale apartments yuppies will fall in love with.”
I walked over and kissed Jessica hard on the mouth. “It’s a darn good thing I trust you.”
“I told you I’m gonna make us lots of money, and I meant it. Before you go, I have one request. As soon as you get time, I need you to help me figure out who’s been following me for the last two days.”
***
Jessica could tell I was angry the moment the words came out of her mouth. I didn’t try to hide the fact. After everything that happened to us last year, she should have known better. I’d known Jessica for three years, having first met her while dating her older sister, Ellie. Jessica occasionally tagged along with us when she was in town visiting from college in Nashville. Ellie Carmichael and I dated exclusively for about a year. I think all our friends thought we had each found our perfect match. Maybe we thought the same thing. However, the shootout with the Dixie Mafia that ended my employment at Memphis Memorial also marked the end of our relationship. According to Jessica, Ellie couldn’t live with my remarkable ability to find trouble and dive in headfirst. It seemed I was too dangerous for Ellie.
The idea that I might be dangerous did not keep Ellie from calling me last year to help Jessica with a problem she was experiencing. Someone broke into Jessica’s house and vehicle, and Ellie said Jessica was making claims that sounded like a crazy conspiracy theory. Ellie had dumped me, meaning I had no desire to get involved, but my mother had insisted. The survivor of multiple gunfights, a helicopter crash into a jungle, and so many fights I couldn’t remember them all, yet I knew better than to argue with Mom.
Contrary to Ellie’s belief, Jessica was not crazy. She was facing a legitimate threat. A double threat, actually. A group of violent environmental activists called the Green Earth Movement killed Jessica’s favorite college professor to stop him from delivering a report on his study of acid rain. The other threat came from the Environmental Protection Agency. The Agency also desired to stop the release of the report. Both groups became interested in Jessica when the professor’s written report and data could not be found, and they assumed she knew where the professor kept his documentation.
When Ellie asked me to help, she said Jes
sica had always liked me, and she thought I might be able to talk some sense into her. Little did she know, Jessica had a thing for me. Little did I know, when Jessica wants something, she usually gets it. I couldn’t help feeling I was breaking an unwritten sister code by getting involved with my ex-girlfriend’s sister, but somewhere between battling environmental activists, running from the Environmental Protection Agency, and shooting it out with private security consultants, Jessica and I fell in love.
“Damn it, Jessica.” I seldom cursed. I never cursed at Jessica.
Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I should have told you right away.”
“You think? Boyd and I repossessed 300,000 dollars worth of horses from a guy who said he could make some calls. In fact, he made some calls. Those guys followed us halfway across Missouri before we lost them. You know that.”
“I know.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have taken the job once we suspected Marino was dirty. Damn it!”
“Legend, I’m truly sorry.”
Jessica looked visibly shaken by my outburst. That didn’t mean I was letting Jessica off the hook easily. “They probably saw my license plate and used their connections to find you. I’ll kill them, Jessica. I’ll kill them for even looking at you funny.”
“But I don’t think it’s the Mob. I thi—.”
“Great, it’s not the Mob. Just great! I know you haven’t forgotten what happened last year, Jessica. We had private security consultants, otherwise known as mercenaries, gunning for us. Damn it, damn it, damn it.”
I cursed more in the last minute than during our entire marriage thus far. My explosive outburst frightened Jessica, forcing me to check my anger before I said something I might regret.
“I guess I need to call in sick today.”
“I goofed up, Legend, but I don’t think you need to call in sick.”
“Why not?” My tone remained abrupt.
“I was trying to tell you that the men following me seem more like LEOs.”
“Law enforcement officers? Why do you say that?”
“It’s their car. A brand new Buick with those ugly steel wheels and hubcaps only bureaucrats are stupid enough to buy.”
“You sure?”
“About the ugly car? Yeah.”
“Does the car have government plates?”
“No, regular Illinois plates from what I can tell. Still, you should see the car; it screams law enforcement.”
I stopped to think. Jessica learned a lot last year. Indoctrination by fire, I called it. Her situational awareness was much better than average. She appreciated the need to scan her surroundings for anything usual, to know where the exits were, to have an escape plan. If she said the men following her were law enforcement, then she might be right.
“Cops, not mercs or gangsters. That would be a load off. You sure it isn’t a cheap rental?”
“No rental company would use a car that cheap looking. Really, Legend. I’ll be okay today. I’m driving out to my parents. Dad and I are going fishing. I doubt these two have a boat sitting around. Go to work. I’ll be okay.”
“Alright, but you’re packing all day.”
“I always do.”
“And you’re calling me when you get to your parents and when you come off the lake and when you’re heading home. And when you get home.”
“I get it. Call you. A lot.”
“And take the Supra. There are maybe twenty cars in Memphis that can keep up with that thing. A Buick isn’t one of them.”
Jessica didn’t argue with me. I was no longer angry, and she looked too relieved to argue with me about anything at that point. Besides, I had a good reason to be angry with her, and she knew it. Most of the mercenaries that came after us last year were killed or arrested, but some escaped, and she knew that I lived in fear that those men might return for revenge. More than once, Jessica commented that my hypervigilance must be exhausting. I was always on alert. Always looking out for danger. I told her hypervigilance would be exhausting if I didn’t feel safe. If I felt like the prey. But I was too savage, too violent, and too ferocious to become prey.
Jessica showed me to the garage. Inside sat the Ford F-150 pickup she often used for work, a red 1990 BMW convertible I was working on, and my 1966 AC Shelby Cobra, a gift from my father in his will. The garage was fine as garages went, but I missed my loading dock. Jessica sheepishly kissed me goodbye and apologized again before I climbed into the truck and backed out.
I stopped at the end of the driveway and scanned the area. Not fifty yards from the house on my right sat the plain white Buick Jessica had described. She was right about the car. Drug dealers are known to use small children as lookouts for cops. A five-year-old would have been able to spot that car.
The two men inside were clearly visible through the clear windows. Both looked to be in their early thirties. Short regulation haircuts. Casual business attire. Definitely not the mob, and no private security consultant would have been stupid enough to pick that car.
Neither man looked in my direction as I passed by, and I pretended not to notice them. In my rearview mirror, I watched the Buick do a quick U-turn and settle in behind me. The Buick mirrored me at the next two turns.
Interesting, maybe this whole time they’ve been waiting for me to come home. That makes me feel much better.
Tailing someone who is watching for you is not easy on the best of terms. Following me shortly before seven on a Saturday morning driving a car like that, it made them stand out like a sore thumb. They followed me all the way to the urgent care clinic where I worked. I parked the truck in the parking lot and walked to the clinic entrance. Looked back one last time and noticed them parked down the street watching me. They were in for a long day if they planned on waiting the full twelve hours until my shift ended. I hoped they were enjoying themselves because tomorrow I planned on figuring out who they were. If they weren’t law enforcement, then they were in for a rude awakening.
***
The Buick was gone when I got off work shortly after seven that evening. No one followed me home, and no one appeared to be posted outside the house when I pulled up. I parked the truck outside the garage when I realized I didn’t have a garage door opener, forcing me to walk around to the front door. I rang the bell since I also didn’t have a key. A few seconds later, Jessica opened the door with an apologetic look on her face. “Sorry, I forgot to give you a key. Don’t worry about the truck. I’ll pull it into the garage. Wash up; I want to hear about your day over dinner.”
“So, was I right about them being LEOs?” Jessica asked as we sat down for dinner. Mongolian beef for Jessica. Kung Pao Shrimp with extra vegetables and extra spicy for me.
“The car is law enforcement, for sure.”
“But not the occupants?”
“Maybe they want us to think they are cops. You know, in case we spot them tailing us.”
Jessica pondered my answer for a few seconds. “You mean so we don’t go into full-on defense mode thinking the Mob is following us or something?”
“Jessica, don’t worry, they’re most likely cops.”
“I’m not worried, Legend. If I learned anything in the last year, it’s that you and I can handle ourselves. In case they’re not cops, though, I’m double-checking all the locks on the doors and windows before we go to bed, and I brought your Glock in from the Supra — you left it there. When are we gonna find out if they’re cops or not?”
“Soon. I’ll tell you my plan while you help me set up my gym equipment in the basement.”
We got half of my equipment set up before it was time for bed. True to her word, Jessica double checked all the door and window locks before entering the bedroom carrying his and her pistols. For extra measure, she made me move a heavy dresser over in front of the bedroom door before we went to sleep.
“Just until we find out if they’re cops or not,” she said. “Or until Boyd can install a top-notch security system.”
The
next morning, Jessica and I went to an early church service. Once again, no tail. However, the same two men were parked on our cul de sac when we returned from church. We passed them without giving them any indication we had spotted them and pulled into the driveway.
“Jessica, while I get ready for work, call LeClair and let him know we are on for this morning.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Jessica was waiting for me when I came down the stairs, smiling. She was enjoying herself.
“I like the jacket,” she said. “It covers your pistol well. LeClair said he can be here in fifteen. That was ten minutes ago. He knows the drill.”
“Good. You know the drill as well?”
“Take the Supra while you drive the truck. If they follow me, then keep driving on the course you picked out for me until you and LeClair can box them in. Once they’re boxed, don’t stop. Drive away. If they follow you, then I’m supposed to let you guys take care of it.”
While waiting for LeClair to get into position, I thought about how my relationship with him had changed over the last couple of years. At first, he was simply the owner of my favorite Blues bar. Someone I chatted with a few times. I think he was amused by the large white guy with an obvious love of the Blues who frequented his bar but never drank anything harder than an iced tea. As fate would have it, as often is the case in my life, I was there the night a large fight broke out. His bouncers were fighting a losing battle to keep things under control until I decided to intervene. I stopped the men causing the problem, then delivered first aid to an injured bouncer. LeClair and I had been friends ever since. True friends. The kind you can count on in a pinch.
Jessica tapped me on the shoulder, indicating it was time. We climbed into our vehicles. Before backing out of the garage, I blew Jessica a kiss and wished her luck. She returned the gesture with an energetic thumbs up. Jessica drove to the end of the driveway and turned right. As expected, the Buick let her pass without any indication that the occupants were interested in her.
I paused. LeClair’s Cadillac was parked thirty yards behind the Buick. If LeClair was truly ready, then why chase the Buick all over town. There was no better time than the present.
Deadly Promise Page 6
