I pulled up to the Blatch’s house and banged on the front door hard. I tried the knob and banged again. No one responded, so I walked around the back of the garage.
The door pushed right open. A gallon paint can had been holding it closed, ugly yellow drips spilled over its side. The door to the house was locked this time, but it came open very easily with some assistance from my shoulder. The inside frame splintered a little. Breaking into a house is too easy. I need to think about beefing up my own home security.
“Anybody home?” I yelled.
No answer.
I passed though the kitchen and yelled again with the same result. I did a quick check of the rooms to verify no one was there, then went straight to the nightstand that had the gun. It was there this time, so I took it. It was a semi-automatic with a magazine in the handle. I don’t know much about guns, but it was easy to eject the magazine and see that there were bullets in it. I tucked it into my back waistband, and it seemed secure.
Next, I went to the safe in the closet. I had tried to rock it forward before and couldn’t. This time, I put my foot against the wall above the safe and pushed against it for all I was worth, again with no movement. I discovered with a little closer inspection this safe wasn’t that heavy; it was bolted down.
I went to the other bedroom, turned on the computer and Googled how to open that brand of safe without the combination.
I scrolled past all the ads trying to sell me a safe and found a selection of videos on how to open any safe without the combination. I clicked on the shortest one and skipped through it. Amazing what you can find on YouTube. It showed an elegantly simple method—just pry it open with a crowbar. That wasn’t what I was looking for, though, so I tried a few of the other videos, but they all showed the same thing.
Why not?
I went to the garage searched around. There was a crowbar, but it didn’t help me. I found the crack around the door of the safe wasn’t wide enough to stick it into.
I went back to the garage and found a screwdriver and hammer. I banged and banged on that stupid thing to widen the gap at the lock, but barely made a dent in it—certainly not enough to get the crowbar in. I picked the crowbar back up and tried to just lever the thing away from the wall, but all I managed to do was make a hole in the wall. Crap.
But I had seen another tool in the garage that I knew would do the job. I didn’t care if Blatch caught me inside this time or not. I was packing and I was pissed off.
I got back to the restaurant to find a surprising number of cars and trucks in the parking lot. I cruised through the lot, checking, but Ricky’s truck wasn’t among them. I drove to the back of the building and around a small dumpster. I parked between a patch of woods with a lot of undergrowth on my left, and a door on my right, which I assumed opened to the kitchen. I got out of my car, tried the doorknob, and it opened.
The two cooks looked up as I walked in, but Ezra told them it was okay. All three looked busy preparing food. Ezra told me to wait here and he went out the door to the dining area carrying two plates. He returned, giving orders to the cooks while reaching between them to fill another plate.
“Ezra,” I said. “We need to talk.”
Ezra held a plate up to one of the cooks to put something else on it, then headed back toward the dining area again.
“Just a moment,” he said to me without slowing down.
When he returned this time, I stepped in front of him and said, “We have to talk now.”
Ezra held up one arm to steer me aside. “It’s dinnertime—”
I grabbed the little finger on his extended hand and bent it backward just enough to change his priorities. His face contorted into a painful grimace.
“Come outside with me,” I said, dragging him by his pinky to the back door.
“I have a server out sick….”
I pulled him out the door and around to the back of my car. I opened the lift gate.
Ezra froze in place—eyes and mouth open wide. He raised his hands to his head and turned toward me, then back to my car, where sitting on top of a chunk of plywood flooring and gray carpet, sat Blatch Dawson safe.
“How did you— That was bolted to the floor!”
“It still is.”
“And those boards behind it! Are those…?”
He leaned inside and craned his neck to look at the back side of the few loose boards that were still attached behind the safe—boards that were once on the back of the Blatch’s house.
“Yeah, I couldn’t fit the chainsaw down behind the safe, so I had to go through the back wall of the closet—”
“Noooo!”
“—which also happened to be the back wall of the house.”
Ezra turned toward me and screamed.
“I pushed it right out the back wall.”
“No, no!” Ezra grabbed my arm and tugged on it.
“Lifting it into the car was a challenge, but I hooked those ugly yellow boards over my bumper and flipped it right in.”
Ezra pulled me so hard I nearly fell over. “No! Behind you!”
His voice was trembling.
“Hey! How did you know this safe was bolted down?” I asked him with sudden insight.
Ezra let go of my arm and sprinted to the kitchen door.
I heard a snort behind me and turned around to find a huge black bear only five feet away and walking closer, his head swinging back and forth with each step.
I took off after Ezra, who had just slammed the door shut. I reached it in less than a second, opened it, jumped inside, and slammed it shut again behind me.
I took a few seconds to gather my wits before I focused again on Ezra, who was talking with his cooks. I went over to him as both cooks scurried toward the door to the dining area.
“I sent them to check on my guests—”
I grabbed him by his shoulders and drove him back, all my anger of the past three days coming out. “How the hell did you know about the safe, Ezra?”
He was leaning backward over the stove and trying to push himself away from the burners. “Let’s go into my office. Please.”
I dragged him over to the door, pushed him inside, and threw the door shut behind me. “What the hell’s going on, Ezra? You know Blatch?”
He was silent and his eyes flitted back and forth, a twitchy, anxious look in them.
“Well … sort of.”
“Sort of what, Ezra?”
I shoved him backward hard, bouncing him off his desk at an angle and onto the floor. He caught himself partway on his chair and climbed up onto it.
“Call him, Ezra. Get him over here to open the safe. And call Ricky, too. Tell him to bring Alison. Now! This ends, right now.”
He picked up the phone and punched in numbers from his address book. I saw that he had it open to Ricky.
“It’s ringing, but he’s not answering,” Ezra said.
“Then try Blatch.”
“I don’t have his number.”
“Bullshit! You recognized his safe, Ezra. That means you’ve been in his fucking bedroom! Don’t tell me you don’t have his phone number.”
Ezra’s office door suddenly opened and Ricky came through, pulling along Alison by the arm. Alison called out my name and ran past Ricky, jerking her arm free to wrap her arms around me. One of the cooks trailed them in, apologizing to Ezra, but Ezra told him it was okay and to just take care of the guests.
Ezra said to Ricky, “What are you doing here?”
Alison answered, “I told him I wouldn’t spend another night there.”
“She’s drivin’ me crazy,” Ricky said. “Damn girl won’t shut up.”
“Alison, Alison,” Ezra said, “I am so sorry that all this has happened to you. None of this was supposed to happen.”
He reached out to her, but she swatted him away.
“What do you mean, ‘supposed to happen’?” I asked.
“It’s not important now,” Ezra said. “Let’s go out to your car.”<
br />
“Why?”
“To get the emerald out of the safe.”
“You know the combination to the safe?” I asked incredulously.”
Ricky laughed a cackling, wheezy laugh.
“You stupid sumbitch,” he said to me.
Ezra stood up and looked at me with the most serious expression I’d seen on him since I first met him.
“If I give you back the emerald, you will leave the safe and everything else in it. Is that correct?”
“Yeah.”
“And you will call your friends and tell them not to call the police.”
“I get Alison and I get my emerald back, and I’m out of your life forever. I’ll tell my friends to forget the FBI.”
“You better keep your end of the bargain,” Ricky said. “I got friends, too. If any cops or FBI come after me, they’ll hunt down your girlfriend here and nobody’ll ever see her again.”
I almost pulled the gun out of my waistband and smashed his temple. Almost.
Ezra walked past everyone to get to the door. “Let’s go out to your car.”
I grabbed Alison’s hand and asked her quietly, “You okay?”
“I am now,” she replied, squeezing my hand in response.
“Try to hold it together just a little bit longer,” I told her. “We’re almost out of here.”
Ezra opened the back door very slowly and poked his head out. He stepped out and crept around to the back of my car, swiveling his head back and forth, clearly nervous about the bear. Ricky and I followed.
I said to Alison, “Watch my back and don’t stand too close to anybody. If they try anything funny, run like hell.”
She nodded.
Ezra stopped at the back of my car and carefully peeked around the end. He jumped and stifled a scream. He came running back at us, glancing past Ricky and plowing full-steam into me, knocking me down. I threw him off me and jumped up. Ricky walked to the back of my car and peered around the end.
Having a good idea what to expect, I walked slowly past Ricky and saw the bear lying on the ground, sound asleep. Underneath his head were the shredded remains of the cardboard box that once held Ezra’s chocolate cake. The plastic bag that was once full of buds now had nothing in it except five big puncture wounds.
The bear opened his eyes and started making a raspy noise, half-roar and half-snort.
I stayed where I was, nervous but holding my ground. The bear got up and swung his head around the ground, sniffing, then he stuck his snout into the back of my car and started to climb inside.
“No!” I yelled at him.
Ricky laughed and went back to stand by the door with Ezra. I pulled the gun out of my waistband and fired it into the air.
The bear jumped back and ran into the woods at an incredible speed.
I swallowed to get my heart back into my chest where it belonged.
“Okay, he’s gone,” I called to Ezra. “If you can open this safe, come do it now.”
I beckoned him toward me with the gun. I could still feel myself vibrating from the bear and hoped it didn’t show. Ricky was still standing by the door, watching the woods. I backed up to give Ezra a wide berth while I held the gun on him.
“Jack, please put the gun away. You don’t need that anymore. The bear is gone.”
I gestured toward the safe with the gun. “Open the safe, and then I’ll put away the gun.”
Ezra hesitated.
I looked at Alison and said, “Do you still have my keys?”
“Yeah,” she said, patting her pants pocket.
Get in the car and start it up.
She walked around and climbed in.
“Open the safe now,” I said to Ezra, “or we drive away with the whole thing.”
Alison started the engine.
Ezra walked up to the safe and reached for the dial. I watched him spin it back and forth, then twist the handle, and pull open the door.
“Step back,” I said. “Stand against the building. Both of you.”
I kept the gun aimed at Ezra’s chest and nodded my head toward the building. He walked over, and when he passed Ricky, I shifted my aim to him.
“You too,” I said, and Ricky slowly complied.
The safe had a main compartment that was full of papers that had been shuffled around by my rolling the safe out of the house and into my car. I tossed them onto the ground. There were two notebooks that I threw down beside the safe. There were bags full of pot. I swept them out of the safe with my arm. Some fell onto the ground and some stayed in the car.
There was a shelf toward the top of the safe that was full of cash. It was probably stacked neatly before I cut the safe out of the house, but not anymore. I grabbed fistfuls and let them fall to the ground or car or wherever.
“Hey,” Ezra yelled, coming forward, and I snapped into a shooter’s stance with both hands on the gun, aimed at him. He backed up and squeezed his lips together.
Back in the safe, I saw a diamond ring that I ignored. I was desperate until I touched something hard in the back. I grabbed it and pulled out a black box. I dropped the gun onto the floor of the car and clawed open the box. Sitting in a bunch of cotton balls was my emerald.
I felt all my anxiety flow out of me as I turned the emerald around in my hand. I shoved the stone into my jacket pocket and picked the gun back up.
Just then, the bear came charging out of the woods. He stumbled a little sideways and bounced heavily off my front bumper. Ezra and Ricky yelled and ran inside the restaurant, and the bear ran right in behind them.
I jumped into the back of my car and yelled, “Go! Go!”
Alison hit the gas and tore off around the building, the lift gate bouncing up and down.
“Stop at the bottom of the parking lot,” I yelled up to her. “Just before you go onto the road.”
She did, and I jumped out. I saw Ricky and Ezra running around the end of the building with the bear zigzagging in hot pursuit.
I heaved on the safe and rolled it out of my car, smack into the middle of the short driveway.
I slammed the lift gate shut and jumped into the passenger seat. “Go! Quick!”
10
Fight or Flight
“Oh my god.” I said it this time instead of Alison. “Is it all over?”
“I don’t know!” she shrieked. “I’ve been tied up. Can I stop holding it together now?” She was leaning forward, white-knuckling her way through a curve.
“Yeah, sure, if you let me drive.”
“There’s no place on this road to pull over!”
“Just stop in the middle of the road. I’ll run around.”
She slammed the breaks throwing gravel and dirt. We each ran around to the opposite side.
I made it in first and buckled my seat belt. As soon as her butt hit the seat, I floored it.
Alison yelped and I grabbed her arm.
“Buckle in and close the door,” I said. “I’m not hanging around here any longer than I have to.”
“Are they coming after us?” she asked, twisting around to look out the back window.
“I don’t think so, but I’m not taking any chances.” I paused and asked, “What did he do to you while he had you?”
“He tied me to a chair. Made me stay there all night. It was awful.”
I put both hands on the wheel for a turn.
“It’s all over now. They’ll never see us again.”
I told her how I had set up phone calls to the police and FBI if we didn’t return safely.
Alison started crying. I touched her arm again, but she leaned away.
“Just let me cry,” she said between sobs.
She picked up her purse from the floor, pulled out a Kleenex and wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
“Oh, I must look awful,” she said, pulling out a tube of pink lip gloss.
I smiled. She was all right.
I slowed down to a safer speed. When we reached the interstate, I headed east, and the traffi
c got busy really quick. Friday night in Asheville, I guess. I glanced at my rear view mirror and saw the pickup behind me was too close and getting closer. I hated tailgaters. Suddenly, there were two extra lanes on the left and an overhead sign with a bunch of different interstate numbers on it. I gripped the wheel tight and stayed in the same lane I was already in, hoping it was the right one.
I saw DODGE, written backward and very big in my mirror. I hit the gas and kept one eye on the truck in the mirror while I tried to keep my own car on the road.
“Shit. Ricky’s behind us,” I said to Alison.
She twisted around in her seat.
“Ezra’s with him. Why are they chasing us? I thought if they let us go, you wouldn’t call the police.”
“Yeah, that was the plan. Maybe they didn’t believe me. Or they’ve just realized how much money they let go with this emerald.”
I passed the car ahead of me to separate myself from Ricky, and cut back in front of the car pretty close. The guy laid on his horn until Ricky ran into the side of him and pushed him right off the road.
That scared me a lot more. This guy was crazy. I drove as fast as I could, weaving between cars, and Ricky stayed with me the whole time. I saw an exit sign that said Blue Ridge Parkway.
That sounded familiar, so I cut the wheel hard and yelled, “Hang on!”.
I hit loose gravel and thought I was going to pick off the exit sign. I closed my eyes, but no collision came. Ricky turned even later, but he just went around the sign. I took another hard right at the end of the exit, following the signs to the parkway, but found myself on another highway.
“Where are you going?” Alison screamed, hanging on to the Jesus bar for dear life.
“I’m taking the parkway. I was trying to lose Ricky on the exit.”
“Did it work?”
“No, he’s still back there.”
But he was far back. Ricky couldn’t corner as fast as I could. I took another hard right for the exit onto the parkway entrance road, and one more to get onto the parkway itself, burning rubber with all four wheels.
Diners, Dives, and Dirty Deeds Page 9
