by Carl Weber
“Leo Greer, this is KD Shrugs, the man I was telling you about.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Shrugs.” Leo held out his hand.
“Same here.” We’d never met, but I knew who Leo Geer was, and I knew why Wesley had brought him. Leo Geer was one of the twenty richest men in the country. He’d inherited Save Smart Dollar Stores based in Hartford, Connecticut, from his old man. Leo was swimming in money. He was also one of the biggest contributors to the Republican Party, funding some of the most powerful Super PACs. I had no doubt as to why Wesley was so far up his ass.
“Have a seat,” I said.
Leo sat down next to Wesley. “Well, I’m sure our fine congressman here has told you about my situation.”
“Actually, I haven’t,” Wesley cut in. “I thought I’d let you tell him yourself so he can get a better understanding.”
“Mr. Geer, before we get started, there is one thing I know for a fact. Nobody comes to the farm unless they have a problem, are looking for a problem, or they need help solving a problem. You’re a long way from Connecticut, so which one of those categories do you fit into?”
He leaned back in his chair and shot a glance at Wesley. If he was offended by my directness, I didn’t give a shit. That’s the way we did things down here in Texas.
“Mr. Shrugs, I have a problem, and from what I hear from the congressman, you’re the only one who can solve it.” He sounded humble, and for a man with that much money and power, that said a lot.
“What kind of problem is it?” I asked.
“It’s similar to the problem you solved for me a few years back. From what I could see last week, you’re already set up for it,” Wesley said.
I hung my head and exhaled dramatically. “That’s a very expensive problem you have there, Leo.”
“Money is no object when it comes to a child. I’ve been turned away from more people than you can imagine. Time is not my friend. You’re my last hope.”
A smile crept up on my face. “Well then, you’ve come to the right place. Do you have any paperwork or specifications you’d like to share? It sure would speed up the process.”
“I think this will give you everything you need.” He handed me a computer jump drive.
“Good, good. I like a man that comes prepared. How’d you like a tour of our facility? Give you an idea of what we do out here at the farm.”
Leo glanced at Wesley, smiling hopefully. “Of course. I’d love a tour.”
We exited the house and jumped on the golf cart parked out front. They climbed on the back, while I got behind the steering wheel, and we headed toward Buildings 5 and 6. I noticed the concerned look on Leo’s face as we pulled up in between the buildings.
“This is it?” he asked.
“You were expecting maybe the Taj Mahal?” I rolled my eyes, glancing at Wesley. He had better not have brought me some uppity Northerner who was gonna look down his nose at me.
“Trust me, Leo, things aren’t always how they appear. You’re going to be surprised,” Wesley murmured as they followed me to the door to Building 6.
“Afternoon, KD.” Elizabeth was sitting at her desk, wearing a lab coat.
“Afternoon, Lizbeth.” I stepped aside so she could see our guests. “I’m sure you remember the congressman from the last time he was here.”
“Of course. Welcome back, Congressman.” Elizabeth smiled.
“And this here is Mr. Greer. I’m gonna give him a tour. He’s interested in using our services.” I handed her the jump drive. “Why don’t you get started on this and see if we have anything in house that may be useful for him? And could you let Dr. Baker know we’re here? We’ll be heading over to Building Five from here.”
Elizabeth slid the jump drive into her computer. “Soon as I run this through our data base, I’ll let Dr. Baker know to expect you. We should have some answers by the time you finish your tour.”
“Thank you, Lizbeth.” I waved for the fellas to follow me. “Come on, boys. Lemme show you around.”
Down the hallway, I showed them the spa-like amenities before heading to Building 5, which housed the lab, infirmary, and medical office. Dr. David Baker was waiting for us when we arrived. Technically, he wasn’t a doctor. He’d lost his medical license a couple of years back for writing illegal prescriptions. But I overlooked that small infraction and hired him on the spot. He was perfect for what I needed at the farm.
“How you doin’, doc?” I said. “This here is Mr. Leo Greer. And I think you know Congressman Bell. Did Lizbeth tell you we were coming?”
“Yes, she did. And I do believe we have found the perfect match for Mr. Greer. Elizabeth is doing some last-minute tests right now. Would you all like to check it out?” Dr. Baker asked.
I turned to Leo. “Well?”
He tried to hold back a smile. “Sure.”
We followed Dr. Baker into a medical examination room, where Elizabeth was drawing blood from the arm of the Chinese girl who’d been at my house the night I met Celeste. She had only been on the farm a short time, but she’d already gained considerable weight.
“How’s it looking, Elizabeth?” Dr. Baker asked.
“Better than can be expected, doctor. So far, everything’s a go. I’m going to run her blood again just to make sure, but she’s healthy and disease free.” She turned to Leo and gave him a smiling thumbs up. He looked like he was about to get emotional.
After thanking Elizabeth and Dr. Baker, we left the building and returned to the golf cart.
“See there, Leo, I told you KD would come through,” Wesley bragged, patting him on the back.
“I know. I just can’t believe it. I can’t wait to tell my wife.” Leo wept openly now, grabbing hold of me tightly. “Thank you, Mr. Shrugs. Thank you.”
I let the man have his emotional moment, then removed myself from his grip and drove the golf cart back to the house, where his car and driver were waiting.
“So, what’s next?” Leo asked as we stepped off the cart.
“Well, next you decide if you’d like to purchase our services,” I told him. “If you do, then it’s five million. You pay two up front, and the rest upon delivery. I’d also like an unnamed favor for myself, redeemable whenever I see fit—and your word that you’ll help my friend Wesley here get elected as the next governor of New Mexico.”
“I’ll have the money wired later today, and you don’t have to worry about Wesley. He’s already cut his deal for bringing me here.”
I glanced at the congressman, who just stood by the cart smugly while Leo handed me a card.
“My cell phone number is on the back. When you need that favor, just pick up the phone and I’ll have your back.”
I smiled like a Cheshire cat. Having a favor from a man like him was gonna come in mighty damn handy. “Well, that’ll be just fine. I’ll be sending a truck up north in the next few days. Make sure your people are ready.”
“Oh, they will be. You just make sure that damn truck is there,” he replied.
“It’ll be there. I guarantee it,” I stated with certainty, dollar signs dancing in my head. I was so damn happy I felt like I needed my dick sucked again.
Rio
33
I woke up hungover and overwhelmed on a sofa in the basement of my Soho night club. I’d had the place remodeled into a man cave/office for those late nights when I was too tired or too drunk to go home. It also came in handy on those special nights I needed a little privacy. Shaking my head and stretching to get rid of the cobwebs, I spotted my cell phone, an empty bottle of tequila, and Roman Johnson’s birth certificate on the glass coffee table. The birth certificate brought back a flood of memories from yesterday, most of which I would have loved to forget. But that wasn’t gonna happen.
Sitting up, I checked the time on my phone, ignoring the ton of missed call notifications and text messages I’d received. Shit, it was almost four in the afternoon—not unusual for me, but way past when I had planned on getting up. I dragged my a
ss to the bathroom to relieve myself, then stripped and got in the shower.
I’d spent half the night drinking tequila, thinking about whether Roman could really be my brother, and the other half calling every hospital in the Bronx, looking for a patient named Margaret Johnson. I finally found her at Mercy General Hospital, where a friendly operator who didn’t seem to give a shit about patient privacy informed me that she was in the Critical Care Unit. I planned on paying Margaret Johnson a visit as soon as I got myself something to eat to get rid of my headache.
When I got to Mercy General, my heart was pounding. I had no idea what I would say to this woman when I found her. And what if Roman was there in the room with her? Was I ready to face him yet? I was so damn nervous I swear there was a chance I would fall out and have to be admitted to the hospital myself. I pictured myself being put in the room right next to Margaret Johnson’s. How fucked up would that be?
The door to her room was slightly ajar, so I paused outside, holding my breath and listening for any voices inside the room.
A nurse walking by said, “Mr. Johnson, you can go ahead in. She’s in and out of sleep, but she’s been asking for you. Your aunt said she’ll be back in the morning.”
Holy shit! This woman thought I was Roman. But now it was safe to assume that Roman wasn’t inside that room. That thought calmed my nerves a little.
“Oh, thanks,” I said, then pushed open the door and stepped inside Margaret Johnson’s room. It was small, with a couple of weird chairs that probably pulled out into an uncomfortable bed, and a television. In the middle of the room, lying peacefully in the hospital bed, was the woman that I’d come to see. She was surrounded by machines and monitors that were connected to her through all kinds of tubes that snaked out from under her blanket. I eased closer to her, studying her face to see if she bore any resemblance to me.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled. “There’s my Roman.” I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She lifted her hand and reached for me. I stared for a moment, then put my hands in hers. This was it, the chance I’d been waiting for to get answers to the questions that had been swirling around in my brain ever since I found that birth certificate. Was this woman my birth mother? Was I adopted? Or even worse, had I been abducted from her at birth? If so, had she been looking for me? And where was my birth father? There was no man in any of the pictures at her house, and no father named on Roman’s birth certificate. Was he dead? In jail? A deadbeat? I had so many questions, and the answer to any one of them threatened to upend everything I thought I knew about myself.
We held hands for a few seconds, but then her smile faded.
“You’re not my Roman,” she said, pulling her hand back and gazing at me. “Your hands are way too soft.” She stared at me a while longer. “You . . . you’re one of the other babies.”
“Yes.” I didn’t really understand what she meant by “other babies,” but I didn’t want her to stop talking, so I pulled one of the chairs closer to the bed and sat down. I took her hand again, caressing it gently. “It’s all right. I’m Rio.”
She gasped, indicating that she recognized my name. “Rio. I always loved that name.”
Oh, shit. This was really happening. My stomach became tied up in knots.
“Rio,” she repeated then closed her eyes like she was done talking. Her breathing slowed, and within seconds, she was asleep again.
No, no, no, no! I screamed in my head, willing her to wake up. I needed answers, but this woman couldn’t stay awake long enough to talk to me. What the hell was I going to do now?
Roman
34
“Man, let’s go,” I said to Denny, who was dozing off in the front passenger’s seat, much like Li’l Al, who was knocked out against the driver’s side door, snoring. We’d been waiting in the warehouse district of New Rochelle up in Westchester for Lex’s mystery truck, but the only thing that had shown up were a couple of hookers and their johns.
“What? Nah, we can’t leave,” he said. “Ain’t no way we gonna walk away from this easy money. Money that you need.”
“Man, I’m sick of sitting here. It’s four in the fucking morning. We been here all night.” I exhaled in frustration, tapping Al’s shoulder to wake him up. “Yo, start the car. Let’s get outta here.”
“Huh?” Li’l Al sat up and looked around. “It’s here?”
“No, it ain’t here. We leaving,” I told him.
“Hold up, Rome.” Denny sat up and looked out the back window. “You hear that?”
I turned in the same direction, but I didn’t see or hear anything. “I don’t hear shit except my stomach telling me it’s time to go get something to eat. Let’s get the hell outta here.”
“Nah, for real. You don’t hear that?” Denny asked. “It’s getting closer.”
Al cracked his window and listened.
“Yo, Rome, he’s right.” Li’l Al pointed. “Here it comes.”
“I told you,” Denny said excitedly, grabbing his mask and putting it over his face.
I glanced in the rearview mirror and still saw nothing. Then I turned all the way around in my seat and squinted. Sure enough, I saw something flash in the distance, coming toward us.
“Are those headlights?” I asked.
“Get ready. Let’s go,” Denny said.
“Wait. We need to make sure that’s the truck we’re supposed to cop.”
“It’s gotta be. Ain’t no other damn truck out here. Not at this time of the morning.”
I grabbed my own mask and gun in preparation, then we sat in complete silence and waited for the large tractor trailer to drive past us. Sure enough, it was blue with Texas plates. It was the damn truck. As it maneuvered a few feet away from the warehouse, Denny and I slipped out of the van and crouched down in the darkness, moving swiftly toward it. Li’l Al waited in the van, same as always, until we signaled. We’d perfected our method of approach over time: Denny always covered the passenger’s side, while I focused on the driver’s side. It wasn’t the first time we’d jacked a truck, but this was our first time doing one of this nature. All of them required patience and precision.
I waited for the perfect moment to make my move. As soon as I heard the engine cut off, I stepped on the small bar at the bottom of the truck, grabbed the door handle, and yanked it open.
“Give me the keys, bitch!” I growled.
The driver, a black dude in his thirties, was taken by surprise. “What the fuck?”
I had to use one hand to steady myself on the cabin of the truck, but with the other, I pointed my gun in his face. At that same moment, the passenger-side door opened, and Denny hopped in.
“You heard what the man said. Give him the fucking keys, or we can just take them ourselves after we kill your ass.”
I knew Denny wasn’t gonna shoot him, but he sure as hell sounded convincing.
“Man, shit.” The driver reluctantly took the keys out of the ignition and handed them to me, then held his hands up, shaking his head. “I’m telling y’all, you don’t wanna do this. This ain’t no regular truck, and this ain’t no regular shipping company. These crackers will kill your asses.”
“And I’m telling you to shut the fuck up,” Denny said.
“Where’s the fucking GPS?” I asked.
“What?” The driver frowned.
“The GPS, nigga. Don’t act like you don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. Where the fuck is it?”
He reached into an open compartment above him and pointed at a small black box. “It’s bolted in.”
“We know.” Denny reached into a bag around his chest and pulled out a ratchet set, then began going to work on the GPS.
“Hand over your wallet and your fucking cell phone,” I demanded, pushing my gun up against his skull. He didn’t waste any time reaching into his pocket and giving them to me. “Good. Now, get the fuck out the truck.”
I kept my gun aimed at him as I hopped to the ground and watched him climb
out. Denny came around to the driver’s side, handing me the GPS, which I smashed on the ground with the guy’s phone, stomping them until they were a useless pile of plastic and glass. The driver had dropped down and curled into the fetal position, practically inviting me to kick his ass. But I didn’t have time for that shit. I yanked him off the concrete and shoved him toward the large container connected to the back of the truck.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
He remained silent.
I was tempted to punch him in the head, but I suppose I was feeling generous, so I decided a verbal threat would do. “Look, you’re already having a bad day. Would you like to add a bullet in your head to it?” I pressed the gun a little harder into his back. “Now, what’s your fucking name? And remember, I already got your wallet, so ain’t no sense in tryna lie.”
“Johnny Brooks,” he said.
“Okay, Johnny, open this bitch up!” I commanded.
“I–I–I can’t,” he stammered.
“Why the fuck not?” Denny came closer and pressed the barrel of his gun against Johnny’s temple.
“It’s got some kinda digital safe attached to it. You gotta have a code. I don’t have the code.”
Denny looked it over and nodded his head. “He ain’t lying. This shit is high tech as hell for a beat-up old truck like this.”
I glanced over at Denny and motioned for him to come beside me. With my gun still pointed at Johnny, we had an impromptu meeting to discuss the situation.
“What’s the hold up? Let’s get the fuck outta her,” Denny whispered.
“Before we go, I wanna know what the fuck is in that damn truck. Think about it. If Lex is offering us two hundred grand, whatever’s inside’s gotta be worth a couple mil. We might be playing ourselves and getting the short end of the stick. You know how Lex is.”
Denny shrugged. “I hear ya, but we might not be able to get rid of whatever the fuck is inside like Lex can. Let’s just get the fucking truck to Lex and get our money, man.”
