Diners, Dives, and Dirty Deeds

by David F. Berens

  “Well, kidnapping me isn’t going to—”

  “This ain’t kidnappin’!”

  “Then what the heck do you call it? You grab me and tie me up—”

  “I’m just holdin’ you till I find your boyfriend tomorrow. He’s sneakin’ around out there somewhere—”

  “And then what? You kidnap him again, too? That’s still kidnapping.”

  His face screwed up and he grabbed at the sides of his head. I could see he was having a tough time sorting all this out.

  “Shut up.”

  “People are going to miss us. I have two editors to report to. If they don’t hear from me, they’re going to call the police.”

  “I said, shut up!”

  “They have my entire schedule. They know exactly where I’ve been. They’ll trace you down in one day.” This wasn’t true, and I realized that I needed to start giving my schedule to somebody to check on me…if I ever get another chance.

  Ricky stormed away, down the hall.

  “That’s it?” I yelled after him. “You’re just gonna leave me here taped to this chair?”

  He didn’t respond. I heard a door slam shut.

  Great idea, Jack, I thought. Hide in the closet. No way to get out until whomever was in the house left-or found me. I was stuck for what seemed like an eternity. My knees began to ache and my left leg threatened to cramp. I could still make out two separate voices, so I knew I couldn’t sneak out. I kept checking the sliver of light from the window that came in under the closet door, willing it to fade into nighttime. Wasn’t gonna happen. I had to just grin and bear the wait for my housemates to go to sleep.

  After about six hours that felt like sixty, the sliver of light was long gone, the voices had quieted, and I was ready to attempt my escape.

  I slid open the closet door and listened for any reaction from elsewhere in the house. Mercifully, it didn’t squeak. Nothing. I stepped into the hallway, thankful for the carpet that muffled my steps as I hurried to the kitchen door that opened to the garage, and went outside and ran.

  8

  Secret Ingredients

  I got to my car, but there was no sign of Alison. I called out her name and got no response. I didn’t dare yell too loud, but I was getting scared. Behind the car, I saw tire tracks and what might’ve been the telltale toe digs of someone running. The footprints headed out from the car, but ended quickly. I shivered at the thought of what had happened.

  Alison could have driven anywhere if she had to leave. I wondered what could’ve happened to keep her from high-tailing it out of here. I got into the car and gulped some water while I thought about it. I checked my phone for a signal, knowing that it would be useless, and it was. I wasn’t sure if I should leave, not knowing which way to go. I circled the block a few times looking for any sign of her, or Blatch, or Ricky. Nothing. I returned to the same spot on the road and decided to give her time to come back…if she could. I tilted my seat back so I was barely visible to any people passing by and tried to settle in for a long wait.

  At some point I must have fallen asleep, because I suddenly realized that the sun was shining. I looked at my watch, and it was almost eight o’clock. I jumped out of the car in a hurry, mad at myself for how late I’d slept.

  I jumped out to examine the area again, now that I had sunlight, but there was nothing there. Something bad had to have happened. I remembered seeing Ricky’s truck at the house for only a minute. He got her. There was no other explanation.

  I hurried back to my car threw rock and dirt tearing out of there. I didn’t go back to Ricky’s house, though. I headed instead to Ezra’s restaurant.

  When I arrived at the restaurant, Ezra’s Mercedes was the only car in the parking lot. The front door was unlocked, so I went in and straight back to the kitchen.

  “Ezra,” I called out, slamming back the swinging stainless door.

  Ezra jumped and said, “Jack, what are you doing here?”

  “Alison’s missing! I think Ricky took her. In fact, Ricky took us both, and you were there. What the hell happened? Where did you go?”

  Ezra put down the bag he was holding. “Jack, I am so sorry that things got out of hand. I never would have expected such action from Ricky, or I certainly never would have invited him to join us. What happened after I left?”

  “I think you know what happened. Ricky kidnapped us! He took us to his house and locked us up in a dog pen.”

  Ezra’s mouth dropped open, but he said nothing.

  I continued, “But we escaped and kidnapped him and made him take us to his fence that he gave my emerald to. That guy said he took it to somebody else, but I know he didn’t. He still has it.”

  “What makes you think that he still has it?”

  “That doesn’t matter. What matters is that Alison is missing now, and Ricky has her! And you’re going to help me find her and get her back.”

  “What can I possibly do?”

  I walked over to where Ezra was working. He had some green dust or flour or something all over a glass cutting board.

  “You’re the one who got us into this mess in the first place! You called Ricky to invite him, and you ran away when he stole my emerald! You need to call him again right now and get him over here. And he needs to bring Alison and my emerald.”

  Ezra picked up a big straight blade and began hastily scraping his green flour into a zip-lock bag. I felt tension creep into my spine at the sight of the knife. Would Ezra use it as a weapon?

  “I don’t know if I can convince Ricky to do anything. Especially if he’s done what you’re saying. And Alison is such a sweet, sweet girl. That’s why I invited the two of you to go mint hunting with me in the first place.”

  “What the hell….” I walked over to where Ezra was working.

  He dropped the knife and skipped around to the front of his table. He tried to push me away, but I shoved him to the side. A big bag of lumpy green stuff was open on the table beside his cutting board. I looked at the green flour and picked up a pinch and smelled it. Ezra grabbed at my arm, but he was too late.

  “This is marijuana,” I said. Then I saw four chocolate cake layers cooling on racks. “You’re putting pot in your chocolate cake!”

  Ezra glared at me. I saw a cardboard box with smaller cartons of something inside. I dumped them out, put the empty box up to the cakes and scooped two layers inside. Ezra yelled and tried to stop me. I shoved him hard with my shoulder and grabbed his bag of buds off the table and threw them into the box with the cake.

  “I’m taking this as evidence,” I said.

  Ezra made a half-hearted grab for my box, but I tucked it under one arm and pushed him over my outstretched leg with the other. He went down, and I planted my foot right in the middle of his fancy white chef coat.

  “Now, you’re going to call Ricky and get his ass up here! Tell him I want Alison nd my emerald! You need to convince him, Ezra. If you don’t, I’m taking your pot cake straight to the police.”

  “No, no, you can’t do that.” His hands were waving up in the air.

  I took my foot off of him and pulled him up. “Make the call. Now.”

  Ezra wrinkled up his face and brushed himself off. Then he marched over to a small office at the end of the kitchen. I kept right with him. Nobody was going to pull another gun on me because I stayed too far back.

  Ezra sat down at a desk and started to open the center drawer. I jerked him back and opened it myself. No gun inside.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Go ahead.”

  He pulled out an address book and looked up Ricky’s number. Then he picked up his phone and dialed it.

  While we waited, I debated letting Ezra open his restaurant that day. I finally decided to let him open for business as usual. Having some public around could only help be a deterrent to Ricky attacking me. I told Ezra to tell his two cooks that they would have to take care of things on their own for a while today because he had some other business to attend to. He assured me that that
would not be a problem—he’s had to do that before—but he had to bake another cake since I ruined one that he had made for today, and he had to clean up his marijuana before his cooks showed up. They knew nothing about his cake recipe. His baking area was off-limits to the other employees.

  I walked Ezra outside to my car with me while I put my pot evidence in the back. I wasn’t going to leave him alone, and I wanted to impress upon him that I was serious about my threat. Back inside, before I let him start baking, I made him sit down and listen while I made a couple phone calls myself. I left two very detailed voicemails with friends, describing what was going on and to send in the FBI and the state police if they did not hear back from me by this time tomorrow—but absolutely not before then. When I hung up, I wondered if they might call the police anyway. I shrugged my shoulders at the thought.

  Ricky pulled up at the same time as the first cook. I ducked behind the swinging door as the cook went to the kitchen. Ricky was right behind him.

  “What the hell’s this all about, Ezra,” he called out as he walked into the kitchen.

  As soon as the door swung back, I grabbed him by the throat. The move was more vicious than I had planned and he tumbled to the ground. I squeezed my hands until he started turning red.

  “Where the hell’s Alison?” I demanded.

  He gasped a couple of times and tried to speak. I eased my grip enough to let him have some air.

  “I ain’t tellin’ you shit,” he said.

  I pulled my fist back to bury it into his nose, but before I could, Ezra grabbed my arm. I looked at him and saw that he was scared…of me, not Ricky. I took a deep breath and brought my fury down a notch.

  “Ezra,” I said, “tell him about the two phone calls I made.”

  He described my messages to the friends and the subsequent calls that would be made to the authorities.

  “So what,” Ricky said. “Y’all can send all the cops you want. I ain’t done nuthin’ wrong.”

  “How the hell—” I stopped to compose myself. “You kidnapped two people. That’s a federal offense. The FBI will prosecute you for that. You’ll die in prison.”

  “I ain’t done nuthin’.”

  I leaned close to Ricky and looked him straight in the eyes.

  “Are you seriously that stupid? You can deny anything you want to me, but here are the facts. The FBI and the state police will be storming in here guns a-blazing. They have your name, address and driver’s license number.”

  Ricky pulled out his wallet and saw that his license was missing. He grabbed my shirt and said, “You sumbitch, give me back my license.”

  I batted his arm away and shoved him hard. “I want Alison and my emerald back. Right now. Ezra told you about the two phone calls I made. If my friends don’t hear that we are both unharmed and we have the emerald, then the FBI comes and you’re going down. There’s too much evidence. There’s no way you can beat it.”

  I put my nose closer, right up to his and spoke softly, “And if I find out that you’ve done anything bad to her at all beyond kidnapping, the FBI will be the least of your worries. I’ll skin you alive.”

  I pulled his knife from the sheath that was still on my belt and held it up to his neck. “With your own knife.”

  His face twitched at that, but he wasn’t ready to give in yet.

  “What’s to stop you from callin’ the police anyway? You’re still gonna accuse me of kidnappin’, even though you won’t be able to prove nuthin’.”

  “Because I want Alison back—unharmed—and I want my emerald back, and I think this is the quickest and easiest way to get them both. It’s your one get-out-of-jail-free card.”

  “How ’bout you get the girl back, and the two of you just get the hell away from here and never come back?” he negotiated.

  “No deal. That’s my emerald, and I’m not going to let some schoolyard bully take it from me.”

  I turned to Ezra. “It’s your turn here to do some convincing. You’ll go to prison, too, if I don’t get what I want.”

  I stepped back and waved my hand from Ezra toward Ricky. “Talk.”

  “This has gone too far,” Ezra said finally. “It’s kidnapping now, not just theft.”

  “We can’t just let ‘em go. Not now. They’ll just call the cops anyhow.”

  “Ricky, this is your only chance. Either way, the cops will be here and you cannot afford to be involved in a kidnapping. It’s gone too far. It’s not worth it. He’s right. You’ll go to prison.”

  Ricky grinned. “I wouldn’t go alone.”

  “No, no. You need to bring the girl back. This needs to stop now.”

  “Yeah? What about the emerald?”

  “I don’t know anything about the emerald,” Ezra said. Ricky started to object, but Ezra held up his hands to silence him. “I think you need to give Jack back his emerald.”

  Ricky leaned in close to Ezra. I could smell Ricky’s breath from as far away as I was. It must have been horrible for Ezra. “I don’t have the emerald.”

  “Then you should probably go and get it.”

  “Yeah? And how’m I gonna do that?” Ricky’s grin was odd looking, borderline crazy. I wondered if he was close to snapping and if he did, what he might be capable of doing.

  They stared at each other for a long moment, but neither spoke, so I did. “I think someone is going to have to call Blatch. He’s guilty of possession of stolen merchandise and accessory to kidnapping. He will go down too.”

  “You hear that?” Ricky said to Ezra. “Accessory to kidnappin’.”

  I started to ask what they heck was going on, but Ezra’s other cook came in and looked at us questioningly. Ezra hurried him away.

  “Twenty-four hours, huh?” Ricky asked, looking at me.

  “That’s just the deadline for the cops,” I said. “Don’t drag this out. Let’s wrap this up today.”

  Ricky grinned at Ezra again and ambled out the door.

  9

  Bear Necessities

  Now all that I had to do was wait. Ezra wanted to go back to work, so I let him, but I was his shadow. I told him to tell anyone who asked that I was still working on the magazine article.

  I didn’t know what to think about Ezra. He had gotten Alison and me into all this, but now he was trying to help me by negotiating with Ricky. But he was only doing that so I wouldn’t turn him in for feeding pot to everybody.

  Then there was his restaurant. During what should’ve been the lunch rush, he only had six or seven people come in. How could he support the restaurant and staff with so little business? This was too complicated, and I couldn’t put it all together into anything that made sense. After dwelling on it a while, I was starting to get a migraine.

  After the lunch customers had filtered out leaving the place empty, I looked at my watch and said to Ezra, “It’s after two o’clock and Ricky isn’t back yet. He’s had plenty of time. You need to call him.”

  “You gave him twenty-four hours.”

  “Do you really want this to go down to the wire? You have a lot at stake here, too, you know.”

  “I don’t really see why my baking should be tied to a kidnapping that I didn’t have any involvement with—”

  “It’s called incentive, Ezra. Call Ricky and find out what’s holding him up.”

  He went into his office and surprisingly got hold of Ricky right away. “Jack is still here with me and wants to know why you aren’t back here yet … Yes, but Jack insisted I call.”

  I grabbed the phone out of Ezra’s hand. “I want to talk to Alison,” I demanded.

  “You’ll git to talk to her when it’s time—”

  “I want to talk to her now so I know she’s okay!”

  There was no response on the phone. I heard a faint, “Your boyfriend wants to talk to ya.”

  Alison’s voice yelled “Jack!” in the distance; then she came on at a normal volume.

  “Jack!”

  “Alison, are you okay?”

/>   “Yeah, sort of. He has me taped to a chair, other than that, I’m fine.”

  I felt my shoulders relax. She sounded a little frantic, but okay overall, given the circumstances. I didn’t realize how tense I’d been.

  “I’m getting you back. He should be bringing you to Ezra’s restaurant along with the emerald. Don’t try to escape. You should be safe soon. Not sure what the holdup is, but hopefully you’ll be back before dark today.”

  “Please make it today I can’t go through—”

  Ricky came back on the line. “There, ya know she’s okay.”

  I heard Alison yelling in the background, “Ricky, you take me back to Ezra’s now!”

  “Twenty-four hours. Not before,” Ricky said. Click.

  “Hey! Son of a-.” I yelled to the dead connection. “Call him back,” I said to Ezra.

  Ezra punched in the number while I held the receiver to my ear, but it just kept ringing.

  “This is taking too long,” I said to Ezra.

  “But you said twenty-four hours,” Ezra said. “It’s only been what—five?”

  “I didn’t say to wait twenty-four hours to do anything! He should have picked up the emerald by now. He’s sitting at home doing nothing!”

  I made a decision.

  “You’re going to stay here,” I jabbed a finger into his chest.

  “Of course, I am. I have to prepare for dinner. There is a great deal of preparation to make everything come together quickly to serve.”

  I took a deep breath. This was foolish, but I didn’t see any other choice.

  “How often do you leave the restaurant in the middle of the afternoon?”

  “Almost never.”

  “Good. I have to go run an errand. You need to be here when I get back. Will you be?”

  “Yes, yes.” He nodded his head vigorously. “I have nowhere to go, and I have dinner to prepare.

  “Okay, I’ll be back.”

  I didn’t trust Ricky at all, and I got the distinct impression that he wasn’t doing anything at all to get my emerald. Alison seemed to be okay for the moment. I needed to up my chances for success.