Searching for Harpies

by Charlie Vogel

  “So, he really liked me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Trusted me not to hurt you?”

  “Yeah. Well, he did say he would haunt you if you did . . . but was smiling.”

  “Smiling, huh? I’ll be right over.”

  Removing the blanket, I suddenly realized what her father meant about the relationship of knowing and loving. Damn, that’s why I hadn’t let go of Eileen. I had felt guilty not really knowing her all those years together. We lived like two separate people, meeting needs that seemed enough but not really . . . totally loving everything about the other person. Had knowing grown into love with Lori? Or is it enough just to care? I understand her and she understands me. And that’s okay because we fit together, not as two separate human beings. Not just caring . . . Hot damn!

  Minutes later the water jetted around my legs and boiled up my body. The force of water penetrated the folds of my skin making me feel cleaner, freer. Or could it be not having swim trunks to stop the bubbles?

  I set my wine glass in the slots on the edge of the tub. Lori slid closer. She rubbed her naked body against my side then settled between my open legs. My knees automatically pressed against her waist, holding her in place in the moving water. Our lips touched. I shifted to deepen the kiss just as her phone rang.

  “Let it ring,” Lori whispered against my lips.

  When the ringing continued, she huffed in anger and stood, the scented water sliding over every delicious curve. I enjoyed the flounce to the opposite side of the tub and how her breasts pushed against the side of the tub as she grabbed up the phone.

  “Who in the hell is this? Oh, hi, Harry.” She glanced at me before lowering herself back in the water. I flicked off the jets so she could hear better. “I’m doing fine. Thanks. He was in such pain toward the end. Yeah, a kind of relief. Oh, no. Bob and I were just talking.” She perked up with a genuine smile. “We decided to try out my new hot tub. Yeah, ah, of course, you and the girls can come over anytime. Now? Well-well, I guess so.” Her smile faded as she ended the call and grimaced with a shrug.

  I swung over the edge of the rub, quickly dried off then snugged the towel around my waist. She sat on the wide portion of the tub’s edge, hugging her knees to those bare breasts. Her gaze travelled down to my bare feet then slowly skimmed upwards until she settled on the arousal the towel barely covered. Her seductive smile didn’t help so I focused on the picture she made instead of my own raging thoughts.

  I wanted to hold onto the moment to imprint her piece of perfection in a mental image I could paint later. But I also had to quit lying to myself. I wanted to control each of her movements and make her respond to mine. Because I had finally surrendered, I also realized we needed to savor, not rush. Neither of us would get to act out those desires here and now. Knowing Harry, he would arrive all too soon. I stepped forward to quickly kiss those pouty lips then sprinted home to locate the forgotten swim trunks.

  By the time Harry and his two teenagers arrived, Lori and I had just finished the first bottle of wine. She had squeezed into a conservative one-piece suit and I wore my baggy shorts. Harry refused to change into the extra pair of swim trucks I had. He had always been self conscious of the deep scars from his war injuries. Molly and Megan wore tee shirts over their bikinis on the trip but immediately threw the cover-ups on a chair and squealed appreciatively as they slid into the tub. Lori, Harry and I settled around the glass patio table. She removed a cork from another bottle and filled glasses.

  I sipped, studying Harry. “Everything okay at work?”

  “Yup, I got another pay raise, plus the money I’m making on your brother’s import business. My life looks brighter each day. Kinda like the two of you.” His teasing grin faded when he glanced at Lori. “No disrespect intended.” When she shrugged, he struggled to find another topic. “So, ah, have you had any time to get closer to Harpies?”

  “No. Before . . . Well, I decided to try to find out how drugs are coming into Pecatonica and who some of the runners are. Eventually, I think I’ll locate Harpies and have Fr. Manning released.”

  “The state patrol stops people on the interstate all the time. Once in a while they find someone with drugs. Maybe you should let the cops handle it.”

  “Not this time, Harry. I don’t think they have a clue in this situation. They don’t know who to look for.”

  “And you do? Bob, I know how you are. You’re like a bulldog. But this drug business is a serious matter. Anytime the people on top could send a hit man to stop the questions. Leave this Harpies alone and get on with your life.”

  “It’s not in me to quit and you goddamn well know it. I can’t and I believe you can’t either. We have a friend in jail, an innocent friend. The only law he broke was within his church. And, look Harry, you have two nice girls who are just entering the real world. In high school they are faced with drugs every day. I taught in their school twenty years and it frustrated the hell out of me. I can’t stop all the drug pushing, but, damn it, I know I can find Harpies and make sure she at least never kills again.”

  Lori brushed her fingers over mine gripping my wine glass too hard. “I’m with Bob. I know people who can help us track down this fucking bitch. Daddy’s funeral is two days away. Bob and I will be on the streets right after. You may not want to join us because of your family, but goddamn, quit cutting us down and give some support.”

  Harry ran one fingertip around the rim of his glass. He then reached under the table, a click sounding as he adjusted his artificial arm. I recognized that as his deciding-to-act habit. He took a deep breath and stared straight at me. “You two are right. I wish I could break away and be with you. I miss the action. Have you talked with Roy?”

  “No. I haven’t seen him for awhile.”

  “Well, talk with him and soon. He is eyes and ears that can be trusted, where, ah, others are not.” He looked at Lori then back to me. “What do you two know about Sgt. Moore?”

  My wine went down wrong and I coughed with Lori pounding my back. She wore her most innocent expression, which wasn’t very. “Why? What have you heard?”

  “You don’t read the papers? They found him in a box at a vacant furniture store in Kansas City. Knowing you two, I just thought I would ask. Did you mail him to a wrong address?”

  I stopped myself from looking at Lori and returned Harry’s glare. “Are they sure it’s Moore?”

  “I don’t think it would be in the papers if they weren’t. Maybe I should keep my thoughts to myself. Maybe I shouldn’t know something, right?”

  Lori toasted him with her wine glass. “Fucking A, Harry. It’s none of your damn business. Unless, of course, you want to keep us informed about what you can find on the computer. We won’t have time for that. Maybe, just maybe, once we find Harpies, we’ll explain to you alone what there is to know about Fuzzy Moore.”

  * * *

  The next day Lori and I spent two hours in the Goodwill Store picking out clothing.

  The woman at the register looked us up and down. “You two are wearing some fine looking things. If you’re cleaning out your closet, we sure can use what you don’t want.”

  Lori contained a giggle. “I might just do that, but this guy has clothes that’s older than I am. I keep trying to spiff him up but he likes everything a little used, if you get my drift. How much we owe you?”

  “I gotcha, ma’am, and nothing wrong with that. Twenty bucks should do it.”

  I swept my hand over our pile on the counter. “For the both of us?”

  “Yup.”

  “Here’s fifty and keep the change.”

  We carried our bundles into the parking lot. Opening the door to the Blue 1989 Ford Escort, I recalled the look on the salesman’s face when I paid cash for the vehicle. He had checked each of the hundred dollar bills for counterfeit, as if he really knew the difference.

  After changing at a gas station, we drove to the area of town the scum, whores, drug dealers and general low-lifes called hom
e. I rented a room at the Pullman Hotel. Less than a block away stood the apartment building Harry lived in when I first met him. I parked the car in the lot next to our new downtown home. At the turn of the century, the railroad had contracted the place for overnight layovers. Since then it had considerably deteriorated along with the surrounding area.

  Opening the car door for Lori, I mumbled, “Welcome home.”

  She slid out, a cardboard box filling her arms, a wicked smile on her face. “What I have to go through just to get a piece of ass.”

  I couldn’t resist the fib. “Didn’t I tell you Harry’s moving in?”

  The smile disappeared. “You’re shitting me!”

  Laughing, I led the way through the lobby doors. An ancient, handwritten sign indicated the elevator didn’t work. I guessed it hadn’t for several years. We took the stairs to the second floor. Finding room 206, I unlocked the padlock. The door squeaked on its hinges as I pressed it open for Lori to enter.

  The one room had a bed, a stained old couch and a table with two chairs. A shelf next to the sink held a hot plate. Next to the sink, a plastic curtain had been shoved back from the toilet and next in the line-up of plumbing conveniences, a claw-foot bathtub stretched under the window. I figured opening a window while sitting in cool water was to take the place of air conditioning.

  Lori set the box on the floor inside the room then looked around. Where I had never actually lived in similar conditions, I could tell by her resigned expression that she had. “You going to carry me over the threshold?”

  “Why, you scared of the roaches?”

  She crooked a finger at me and I couldn’t resist lifting her into my arms. We swayed in several different directions before I dropped her on the bed. A loud crack sounded. She froze as I bent over to look at the corner of the metal frame now resting on the floor. With a shrug, I leaned over to press my lips against hers. A knock at the door stopped us cold.

  Lori whispered, “If that’s Harry, I’m going to kick you in the balls.”

  I ran to the door and inched it open. The decaying odor hit my face and I knew the identity of our first visitor.

  “Hello, Worm. What brings you here?”

  “Fox wants you.”

  “How did you know where to find me?”

  “I followed you from the Goodwill.”

  “What does he want?”

  “To talk.”

  “If that’s so, you can tell Fox to come up and see me. I’m not jumping every time he calls.”

  “He’s downstairs. I’ll tell him.”

  Chapter 10

  Fox’s deep-set eyes moved slowly as he pivoted his head with jerking movements. He acted like a military officer making a barracks inspection as he stepped into the room. I couldn’t make up my mind if I should salute him or offer him a beer. Instead of either, I settled into a seat at the table and waited for him to relax.

  Lori sat cross legged in the center of the bed. She grimaced as Worm followed Fox inside then leaned against the closed door. His odor in our confined living area and mindless staring into space with mouth open obviously made both of us uncomfortable. Fox’s suspicious attitude didn’t help either.

  The pimp stopped before the bathtub with its scenic window view. He seemed to be studying the traffic on the street below.

  Noting Lori’s impatient hand movement, I asked, “What’s up, Fox?”

  He didn’t immediately respond. His gaze swept our lousy room one more time. Hands behind his back, the big guy paced across the creaking hardwood floor. Straightening with an indrawn breath, he removed a small automatic pistol and set it on the table in front of me like an offering.

  “What’s this?”

  Clearing his throat, Fox sat in the chair facing me. “It’s a Beretta, a Cougar 9mm. You know how to use it?”

  I flicked a glance at Lori. “I think so.”

  “If you’re here to find Harpies, you better know. You ain’t got time to think.”

  “Looking out for my interests? What really brings you here, Fox?”

  “One of my cunts saw you and Lori go in the Goodwill. She called me. I had Worm tail you. I know you’re sniffing around for Harpies, but I can’t understand why you set yourself up in this shit hole.”

  “I’ve been informed she has a drug market in the area. We thought we could get information faster if we’re here.”

  Fox leaned forward to stare into my eyes. “And what makes this your fucking business?”

  “Most people would say it isn’t.” I ran a finger over the small weapon, not breaking eye contact. “But Fr. Manning is a decent man. You met him. I mean to prove he didn’t kill anyone. I’ll be out of your hair when I find Penny’s murderer.”

  Time passed slowly as his attention moved down to the gun and back to my eyes. “I should’ve run you out of town two years ago. You’re a stubborn sonofabitch.” He blew out a long breath that puffed his cheeks. “This will probably be the worst move I’ve made. But, since you’re here . . . maybe I can use you.”

  “What are you saying, Fox?”

  “I’m also looking for the bitch who calls herself Harpies. The way you get your nose into things, maybe you can help me.”

  Lori spoke from the bed. “I get it now. Harpies has moved in on you. She’s taken a big bite of your drug business and she’s using your whores to sell coke.”

  He looked over my shoulder at her. “You’re only half right. You know I don’t do business in the hard stuff. Coke ain’t as big a seller like it used to be, except for the bubble-gummers. I know Harpies is bringing shit in from Jamaica, and she’s making big bucks on the street.”

  The bed squeaked as Lori stood. She dropped a possessive arm across my shoulders and leaned against my side. “Do you know why she killed Penny?”

  “Penny was hooked and used up the free samples.”

  “You saying Harpies was using Penny?”

  “Could be your little friend was helping in the laundry business. But, I ain’t saying exactly, if you get my drift.”

  Lori looked down in time to notice my surprised expression. “What he’s saying, Bob, is that Harpies keeps people hooked on the goddamn crack so they can move drugs and money for her.”

  The pimp looked smug that he could claim he hadn’t said any such thing. “So, Fox, you want me to help you find Harpies?”

  “If you’re up for it and carry that.” A thick finger motioned to the gun. “Think an outsider can find out what I can’t?”

  “I guess we’ll see, huh? How many people do you think she’s got working for her?”

  “She’s got strangers walking the streets. My people follow them while at the same time they follow us. I can’t shake them. It’s like a merry-go-round and we can’t get nowhere while that bitch it out there watching us make fools of ourselves. It’s making me fucking mad.”

  “Did Moore work for her?”

  He frowned. “How did you find out?”

  “He, ah, made a visit to Lori’s home.”

  Fox smiled. “So that’s how he ended up in a box. Good work.”

  “Explain how this money laundering works.”

  Fox considered me a moment then shrugged. “You mean how it’s changed in Harpies favor. It’s simple. One of my girls does a trick and sells the john some of Harpies’ coke. Once my cunt gets all her baggies sold, she takes the cash to the Short Time Gas and Fill convenience store. Most of the managers are Harpies’ people. They take the money to a bank somewhere and wire it to an account in New York.”

  “Sounds like you’ve learned a lot about her already.”

  “Look, Norris, I’ve been on the streets all my life. It’s my business to know how things work and when they get screwed with.”

  “But, how would you know Harpies has people working at the Short Time Gas and Fill?”

  “My cunts told me.”

  “What bank are they using?”

  He shifted as if embarrassed. “I haven’t found that out yet. Her people are sne
aky bastards.”

  “Haven’t you tried to stop your girls from getting involved?”

  “Her people fight back. That girl you found in the Dumpster was another warning. Them shots at Penny’s funeral forced me to respect this Harpies bitch.”

  “You’ve never actually seen her?”

  “Nope. No one can get close to her.”

  “How would a person communicate with her?”

  “You have to talk to one of her lieutenants at the Short Time Gas and Fill.”

  I glanced at Lori who was staring hard at me. She knew me too well. She had made the point; I had to make the decision. “Yeah, okay, Fox. But, let me get this straight. You want me to take this gun and find which bank Harpies is using to launder her money?”

  He grinned. “The gun’s for protection, kinda my insurance policy that you’ll have something to help you stay alive, at least long enough to share your information. You’re the man with his own big money. I figure you’re more likely to work the money angle, the part you know. You find the bank, you’ll find Harpies. For the both of us.”

  * * *

  Back when I took it upon myself to find Eileen’s killer, Harry had taught me to use a firearm. Sending Lori with a list to shop at Electronic City, I stayed in the hotel room cleaning the Beretta with what I had available: toilet paper and fingernail polish remover. Needing some kind of lubricant, I checked the luggage on the bed.

  Little Miss Altogether Lori had left her suitcase open. I glimpsed a small can of machine oil next to her electric shaver. My first thought was she had to be too young to be shaving her legs. Wait, girls as young as twelve have armpit hair. Norris! Get over it. She’s way older than that. You are not robbing the cradle—

  A scrapping sound in the hall interrupted my stupid thoughts. I slammed the small gun’s loaded magazine into the grip and pulled back the slide. As I strained to hear more, a horn and squealing tires drifted through the open window then distant traffic noises. I concentrated on the door.