Losing Streak

by Jim Wilsky

  “Because I’m gonna have to ask you to tear down the booth, load my U-Haul with everything and lock it all up. And I know that’s a bullshit thing to do, but this deal is so big to me and something I have to get done from now and later tonight…I’m going to be running around like a chicken with its head cut off, but it’ll be worth it.”

  “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind. I’ll do it. Go on and go.”

  Wilson grinned and said, “Let me tell you something right now. You’re getting four hundred for today. In fact, here…” He pulled his money roll out and then his wallet too.

  “No, really, Rand…”

  He found the right amount of bills and handed Sam the money. “Here. You’re taking this. Jesus, I gotta go, though. When I get back, I’ll give you some details about tearing down and loading up after this stupid ass show is over.” He started walking toward the exit.

  “Okay, get going I’m good here.”

  “Alright, man, be back in less than an hour. I have to be back by then.” Wilson gave Sam a grim smile over his shoulder and he was gone.

  He didn’t like this new wrinkle. Didn’t like it all. Out of nowhere, Wilson had thrown in this thing about seeing the cancelled deal in person.

  “No, it’s going to work, Sam. I know what I’m going to do.” Her voice was steady but there was some doubt there and he was the only guy in the world able to hear it. They were wrapping things up as she was waited for Wilson over at the Lex.

  Sam turned and walked back the same way he’d just come. He passed Wilson’s booth again and noticed the number of customers had dwindled a little but there was a least some left. Probably just enough to provide some cover. Add some sound and movement to the surroundings. Sam shut off his wandering mind and replied “You sure? I could maybe create some kind of confusion or distraction at the right time?”

  “It’ll be better the way I’m going to do it. Even though it will be from a distance, he needs to see his revenge and his win, in full. No way around it. That’s what is making this whole thing click. There’s some risk, but there always is, no matter what we’re doing.”

  He didn’t answer right away, but it was too late and he knew it. “Alright, babe, that’s the way we’ll play it, then. So, no other plan changes after that little scene, right? When you have the prize and then he leaves to meet you at the storage unit, that’s it, we’re out?”

  “Yes. It’s getting around that time, though. He’ll be coming in any time now. I’m hanging up now. I’ll text when it’s over and it’s time.”

  “Rachel, wait.”

  “What?”

  He wanted to say something more but couldn’t think of the right words. She knew they needed this.

  “What?”

  “I just know this one’s going to work.”

  But he knew nothing of the kind as he put his phone away.

  He looked at his watch and was amazed. Like a semi going down a long hill, time was speeding up, gradually at first but really picking up speed now. Mentally, anyway, he buckled up.

  She’d counted the money in a corner of the mezzanine level of the Lex. It was virtually deserted on this floor, anyway. Only one person, a maintenance guy, had walked by and he didn’t even look over at them.

  “Okay.” Rachel finished putting the money into her empty laptop bag and zipped it up. “You have the remainder in your truck console you said?”

  Wilson had been standing in front of her to help block the view, even though it was not needed. He stepped back a little. “Yup, and you’ll see it at Ur-Stuff when I look at the product. Have to trust me on that, just like I’m trusting you.”

  “Right, neither of us have any interest in not completing this now.”

  “Nope. So, you ready to go and cancel that other deal?” It was obvious Wilson could barely wait.

  “Yes, but let me remind you of the conditions involved and the only reason I’m allowing you to witness this deal. I will not stand for our company’s reputation, and mine to be tarnished. You stay out of sight, especially if you know this buyer as you said earlier. Once again, as far as they know, I’m cancelling the deal due to law enforcement surveillance concerns we have at the storage unit. Period.”

  “No worries, I got it. I’ll stay out of sight. And afterwards, we leave right away?”

  “Right away, I can’t stress enough that I have to get to the airport. My flight has a departure time of seven-thirty and it’s a little after four-thirty now. As soon as you see me leave that booth without this silver briefcase. You exit the building and head to the storage facility. I’ll be following right behind you. You mentioned you know the place?”

  “Oh yeah, been there before. So, I’ll probably get there first.” He paused and looked at the scrap of paper in his shirt pocket. “You said the security gate code is zero, eight, two, nine…and the unit number is fourteen?”

  “Correct and they have security cameras at each end of all the rows, so pull your vehicle up close and parallel to the door. The view should be mostly blocked that way and then you can load directly into your back seat as soon as I get there.”

  “Alright, I’m good to go.”

  “Give me a thirty second head start, so were not right behind each other.”

  “Keys to the storage unit door?” Wilson asked, putting his hand out.

  She stood up with the laptop bag in one hand and the aluminum briefcase, jammed with several hotel towels, in the other. Rachel tilted her head at him and with a smirk said, “No time for games, Rand. When I see the rest of the money, you see the keys.”

  “Oh yeah…forgot…” He smiled back at her.

  She started walking and over her shoulder repeated the two most crucial things, “Stay out of sight. The second you see me leave that booth, you head for the storage site.”

  Rachel liked the fact that she was carrying two things. A small thing, but it might help. Props matter, something in your hand matters. At least that’s what she told herself.

  As she approached the Calibers booth, which was situated almost exactly in the middle of the aisle, Rachel searched for Ty Cooper. She saw Wilson was in place, partially behind a pillar and looking on, down at the other end of the aisle she was coming from.

  Sam had said to look for the black hat but she didn’t see one. “Shit,” she uttered under her breath. Shit. She didn’t want to approach yet if he wasn’t in the booth for some reason and she damn sure didn’t want to keep drifting by, drawing more attention to herself.

  Rachel was only twenty feet away now and she was getting ready to veer off. Four guys wearing black company shirts behind the tables, three customers looking at the tables. One black shirt on the end was rubbing his burr haircut, and then bingo, he put his hat back on.

  She put a little more into her walk and stopped at the table. “Ty Cooper?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’ve heard about y’all and I need to talk for a few minutes. Won’t take me long. Promise you that.” Her voice was hard and country.

  “Well now, where you been all my life, darlin’? You want to talk huh?”

  “I been around but—” she stopped and shook her head no. She’d be doing that a few more times too. “But I ain’t your darlin’ by a longshot. I just want to talk about buying something.”

  The Calibers guy next to Cooper raised his eyebrows and looked over at him, while he exaggerated a stagger backwards.

  Cooper didn’t even blink. She imagined he was telling himself how he liked the feisty ones. Especially when they looked like her. “Well, come on back here, we got tables and chairs.” He waved her in through a gap in the tables. “We’ll have us a little chat.”

  She walked through and took note that there were still two customers taking the attention of two Caliber guys, so that was good. The other one grinned, slapped Ty on the shoulder and walked down to the other end of the booth.

  Cooper went to a small pedestal table, sat
on a stool and motioned her again. “Well, c’mon, then, girl. Have a seat.” He gave her a lopsided grin.

  Rachel didn’t smile back. In fact, she had her badass look on. She leaned back and half sat on the high stool, sitting her silver briefcase down on the floor to her left, next to the back curtain of the booth. On her right side she sat the laptop bag down and got right to it, “I want to talk to you about something I’m looking for. I’ve asked around but haven’t had any luck.” She looked around the booth.

  “Well, okay, what are you looking for? Maybe I can help ya?” He smiled at her and winked.

  “I need C-4, as much as you can get for me…” Rachel said, her voice not lowered a bit.

  His eyes bored into her and his smile melted away. “Only way you can buy that is with a permit from the ATF. And that’s if you own a demolition company, and maybe not even then…I mean, you know that right?”

  Rachel shook her head no again, “Can’t be gettin’ no permits from the ATF. Don’t have a demolition company. My brother and his buddies need that shit for something they got going. That’s why I’m talkin’ to you.” As Rachel spoke, she shifted her body slightly and toed the silver briefcase further away, closer to the side of a plastic tub, then leaned on the stool again, crossing her arms.

  “Nope. Can’t help you with that. Wrong place, hon’.”

  “I don’t think so. Not what I heard. Heard you could source about anything. You worried about money? I got money.” She pointed under the table. “Unzip it.”

  Cooper bent over and looked under the table. “What?” he asked looking up.

  “The black bag, unzip it. Go on.”

  As he was busy doing that she did a few more reserved theatrical moves. She shook her head and did a little safe sign like a baseball umpire.

  Cooper stared down inside the bag, even ruffled through a few bands of fifties. Then he zipped it closed again and raised up. “You’ve never done this kinda thing before, have you? You pretty, little…rock-dumb…bitch.”

  She blinked and asked, “What do you mean?”

  He leaned in, pissed off and his voice low. “You don’t come swinging your hot ass into my booth, with a bag full of fuckin’ money, looking for illegal C-4 explosives. There are security cameras everywhere, security guys walking around and real law enforcement hanging around, too.”

  She reached down and picked up the black bag, laying it on the table. “Do you have any idea how much is in here?”

  “Don’t even think about unzipping that again. I’ll tell you what, meeting’s over. Move it on down the line.”

  Time to wrap it up, she thought. Good place to do it. In one motion, Rachel stood up straight and grabbed her bag “No, no wait. I’ll pay you whatever you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

  An old guy looking at pistols looked up at her and Cooper in confusion. A couple of the Calibers guys moved toward her.

  “I’ll help you, then,” he said, getting up and taking her arm at the elbow.

  She put up a limited amount of resistance, just enough to make it look good. He easily walked her out and down the aisle a few steps. He pointed down the aisle leaned into her and hissed, “Now you get the fuck outta here, because I’m callin’ security otherwise.”

  He turned and walked back to the booth.

  Rachel stood there for a few seconds holding her laptop bag but didn’t push her luck too long. She walked out of the aisle at a steady pace, heading right by the pillar that Wilson had been behind. Her breath caught, when she saw a part of his arm and shoulder. You stupid old bastard. Rachel reached out to grab and pull him with her. The man with black hair and a phone to his ear smiled at her in surprise and she exhaled.

  As soon as Rachel rounded the corner, she passed four more aisles including Wilson’s and headed straight for the main entrance of the convention hall. Taking her phone out, she started texting but then saw a young, bored, part-time security guy. He saw her coming too and they locked eyes. He straightened up and she wasn’t quite sure what he might be up to but walked calmly ahead, giving him a smile that would melt butter.

  He blushed like a sixth grader, but managed to say, “Have a good day now.” He nodded and waved.

  “Thanks, you too.” She said with a little wave back.

  She could feel him watching her until she walked outside and followed the sidewalk in the opposite direction of the Lex, the parking garage and their hotel.

  Wilson had literally thrown the keyring to him as he walked by, his eyes round with excitement and urgency. “Gotta go, Cullen.”

  Sam caught them and said, “Alright, man, I got this. Don’t worry.”

  “Just pile this shit in my U-Haul, I’ll straighten it out at the farm. After you lock it up, just put the keys on top of the tire. Nobody ever looks there.”

  “Yeah, got it. Go ahead.”

  And go, Wilson did, Sam watched him do the quick walk toward the exit. His phone dinged and he dug it out, reading the text from Rachel. He waited two minutes, then made another be back sign, grabbed the metal box and casually made his way to the exit.

  “Hey.”

  He turned to the voice and saw Ty Cooper coming toward him.

  “Hey what?” Sam said stopping and looking at him.

  “Where’s your boss, slick?”

  “Who?”

  Cooper pointed at his show tag and then looked back at Wilson’s booth. “Rand Wilson, who you think I mean?”

  “Oh, yeah, he just went to the food court to get something to eat and by the way, just who the fuck might you be? Or am I just supposed to know ’cause your famous or something?”

  Cooper laughed. “Never mind, son. I just wanted to blow the old man some shit.” He looked Sam up and down. “And today is your lucky day, boy. I’m gonna ignore your little smartass self.”

  “Thank goodness.” Sam started to walk away again.

  “What’s that?” Cooper asked, pointing at the metal box.

  “A little metal box. It’s my baseball card collection. You want to see ’em?” Sam just couldn’t resist this kind of thing, but he had to and he knew it.

  “Funny boy.” Cooper said, his eyes hard and cold.

  Sam came back to him several steps. “Go pick on the old man. You gotta much better chance with him…Slick.”

  They stared at each other for a long pause.

  “I think I will, but I’ll be back around after the show closes, okay? Then I’m gonna find you, and then I’m gonna knock you into next week. I’ll enjoy that…see you soon, sweetheart.” He turned and headed off.

  Sam stopped himself again and just watched him go until he turned a corner. Then he turned away too.

  He walked two blocks south of the convention center to the drugstore on the corner. He didn’t see the Cherokee until he curled around the parking lot toward the back of the store.

  Sam walked to the passenger side and got in. “I’m glad you’re driving, I’m exhausted after this one. I had to do everything.” He leaned across and kissed her.

  “I know, I feel guilty about that.” She smiled and pointed at the box. “What the heck is that?”

  “It’s a mystery gift from Wilson. I figured why not just rip him off all the way and commit a cheap theft. Could have twelve dollars in or twelve thousand. Its locked but we’ll rip it open tomorrow morning like a Christmas gift.”

  She chuckled and backed out of the parking place. “I filled the tank yesterday, where are we going? We need to put miles between here and wherever we’re going.”

  He thumbed to the back of the Jeep. “So, you got everything back there? Dirty underwear, packed in beat to shit luggage and a laptop bag that smells of money?

  “Yes, sir.”

  He held a finger up. “Oh, and I got paid for today!” He grinned at her as he felt around in his pocket, hit something metal, and then found the rolled money. Sam showed her the cash, then stuffed it in her purse that was on the console.


  She grinned. “Damn, the hits just keep coming.”

  Frowning, he fished his hand back into his jeans pocket. He hadn’t worn this pair of jeans for at least a month, they were pretty tight these days. Sam recognized the shape and held it up like he’d found a crown jewel. “Well, I’ll be damned, I thought I lost it.”

  “Is that your old Zippo?” She giggled.

  “Explains a lot.” He kissed it and put it back in his pocket. “We cannot be defeated now…we’re golden.”

  “Any more surprises or rabbits in the hat?” Still in the parking lot, she stopped the car and looked over at him. “If not, where to?”

  “I’m thinking the Lonestar State. A kickass hotel on the Riverwalk in San Antonio…sound okay?

  “Ohhh, hell yes. I love San Antonio.”

  “Away we go, then. South on 30 all the way to big D. We’ll stay there just for tonight ’cause it’s just too damn far. Then we’ll head on down 35 South to San Antone’ tomorrow. Three, four days of doing nothing but eating great Mexican food and drinking too much, what the hell.”

  “I like the way you think, Sammy.” She pulled out into traffic and they were on their way. Traffic wasn’t too bad.

  They fell silent, relishing the moment. Right now. This is why they do what they do.

  She merged on to I-30 a few minutes later. Time and miles drifted along. About thirty miles away from the Arkansas state line, Sam looked over at her. “Babe.”

  “Yes?”

  “You did this one, all of it. You killed it. You saved us and turned everything around.” He squeezed her thigh gently and didn’t say anything more. No need.

  Rachel didn’t say anything either, she just glanced over and gave him that special smile. The one she didn’t use much, but when she did, she meant it.

  Back to TOC

  JIM WILSKY is a crime fiction writer. His first solo novel, titled Cargo, is nearing completion. In addition, he will have a book of selected short stories published later this year. Over fifty of his short stories have been published in some of the most respected online magazines such as Shotgun Honey, Beat To A Pulp, All Due Respect, Yellow Mama, Flash Bang Mysteries, A Twist of Noir and many others. He has also contributed stories to several anthologies, including Kwik Krimes, Both Barrels and The Odds Are Against Us. Jim resides in Texas, supported and strengthened by a wonderful wife and two beautiful daughters. You can keep up with Jim at TrippingTheTrigger.blogspot.com.