by Nick James
“Then don’t do it.”
Another long pause. “I want to meet you somewhere out in the open. Somewhere I’ll feel safe, because I really don’t trust you, Custer. I can’t emphasize that enough, I do not trust you.”
“Then like I said before, Charlie,” Bobby said hoping to needle Sawyer with the personal name. “Don’t do this if you have any concerns. We can just let the circumstances of your behavior and the firm's dictate what happens.”
“You know as well as I do that’s simply not an option.”
“Since you’ve decided it’s not an option, Charlie, you must have also reached the conclusion that it’s one hell of an offer and you’d better grab it because once it’s off the table, it’s gone. Forever. She won’t make this offer again and she’ll come after you with guns blazing for the full five million.”
“She wouldn’t stand a chance, she….”
“If that’s the case, then like I said before, don’t do it. Now, I’m pretty busy and I appreciate you calling, but either we’re going to meet or we’re not. Did you have someplace in mind or were you just intending to take the long way around the barn and tell me no?”
Another long pause. “I’ll meet you sometime after nine, I’ll phone you and tell you where.”
“All right. But just for the record, if you start having me drive from one place to another all over town, I’m going to call it off. I’m just trying to help this family in their time of need and I don’t intend to be jacked around.”
“You just take my phone call tonight. God help you if you try to pull anything,” Sawyer said and disconnected.
Bobby sat in his chair and stared out the window for a long moment. The dark storm clouds that had been on the distant horizon just a few minutes ago suddenly didn't appear quite so distant.
“Bobby,” a voice said and at the same time knocking on the door frame. He spun round and Chris McCall was standing in his office. He wondered how long she’d been there, what she heard, and hoped his face wouldn’t give his thoughts away.
“All settled in, Chris?”
“More so than not. Erin said she’d give me a lesson on the office system tomorrow. I’ll probably need more than one.”
“If I can find my way around, anyone can. Believe me when I tell you I’m not a techie.”
She smiled at that and said, “Then I’m in good company.”
“Come on in and sit down.”
She smiled again, headed toward one of the client chairs, and sat down. “I just really want to thank you for giving me the chance to get back on the ladder.”
“Talk to me in a couple of weeks. You’ll probably be calling me all sorts of names.”
“I don’t think so,” she said. They went on to talk for the next twenty minutes about a number of things. She mentioned her sobriety a good half-dozen times and Bobby guessed she was going to meetings at least three times a week. For his sake he hoped she continued. “Well, anyway, I just wanted to say thanks again. I’ll let you get back to your work and I’ll get back to getting organized,” she said, then stood.
“Let us know if you need anything,” he said pulling a file from the edge of his desk over in front of him, pretending to get back to work.
Once she left the office, he phoned Miguel and told him about the phone call. “If you could line up your friends and keep them on standby that would be great. Maybe plan to join me down here at the office a little after eight, just in case he calls earlier than he said he would.”
Griffin Lang showed up toward the end of the day. Erin buzzed him into the lobby, then sent him down the hall to Bobby’s office. Bobby watched him approach and waved him forward.
“Griffin, thanks for stopping in,” Bobby said and stood as he entered the office.
“My pleasure, sorry it’s so late, I was in court this morning and expected to be out by noon. You know how that can go.”
Bobby nodded, he did remember. “Things go your way?”
“Not exactly. I got a continuation, hoped to wrap things up today, but it just wasn’t going to happen. What can you do?” he said and shrugged.
“I don’t know if Erin mentioned it, but go ahead and pick out an office, I believe you have a choice of two.”
“Whatever is available will suit me just fine. If it’s all right I have some items in my car, I’ll just bring them up and place them in an office, then head back to my old firm and wrap some things up.”
“You give your notice yet?” Bobby asked.
Lang shook his head. “If all goes well I plan to do that tomorrow. There are some more items I want to get out of there before I say anything. There’s a fifty-fifty shot they’ll throw a tantrum and want me out of there immediately.”
Bobby nodded, and said, “Good luck.”
“Thanks, looking forward to coming onboard here. I’ll get out of your hair, haul the stuff up, and see you at some point tomorrow.”
“Good luck,” Bobby called as Lang headed out the door.
Chapter Forty-Six
Miguel buzzed the intercom a little before eight and Bobby let him in. Three other guys were with him. They all looked like someone you wouldn’t want to cross. Bobby recognized one of them as the guy with Miguel the other morning when they picked him up at Emily’s and dealt with Blake Finch. They all nodded at Bobby, but Miguel didn’t introduce them. He said something in Spanish and they headed back to the break room.
“You hear from this guy yet?” Miguel asked.
“Not since his call this afternoon. I don’t think he’d call it off at this point. As long as he doesn’t try anything, you can leave him alone. He’ll freak if he sees the others so have them stay out of sight. That said, he’s very capable of doing something stupid so just be on your toes.”
Miguel nodded and followed Bobby back to his office where he stretched out on the couch. Bobby pretended to busy himself with some paperwork, but the truth was he was having difficulty concentrating. A few minutes before nine he said, “You guys can go down and wait in the cars. I expect he’ll call in the next half-hour, make us wait so he can pretend he’s in charge. You armed?”
Miguel smiled, and said, “Always. Not to worry, you’ve got a small army with you.”
“This guy Sawyer has a temper. I’m just worried he’ll do something stupid.”
“We’ll be fine. Let me get the others and we’ll see you outside.”
Miguel rousted the three from the break room and headed down to the cars. They were parked alongside the building almost where Blake Finch had been the other morning. Bobby followed them down a few minutes later.
They sat in the cars for the next twenty-five minutes. Bobby and Miguel in one car, the other three in a black SUV parked behind them. It had rained heavily an hour earlier. Now there was a light, continuous sprinkle, just enough so you’d have to run the wipers every fifteen to twenty seconds. At exactly nine-thirty, Bobby’s cell phone rang. Sawyer.
“Bobby Custer,” he answered trying to sound happy, like this was just one more social call coming through. He put his phone on speaker so Miguel could hear.
“Custer.”
“Hi, Charlie, still want to get together?”
“Over on the West side, Plato Boulevard. Take the Robert Street Bridge, a left onto Plato, then take the second right, that’s State Street. You’ll find us in the middle of the last parking lot. I want you to pull into the parking lot, park fifty feet away from the car, and walk toward me. I want to be able to see your hands. Stop when you’re ten feet away from my car.”
Miguel nodded as he listened.
“Questions?” Sawyer asked.
“No, I got it, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Why so long?”
“I’m at my apartment, I gotta get in my car, then drive over there. I’m bound to hit a stoplight or two. Just relax, I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
“You better not be fucking with me.”
“You know if you talk any longer, it’s
going to be twenty minutes before I can get there.”
Sawyer hung up.
Bobby opened the car door, and Miguel said, “What are you doing?”
“I’ll be right back, I got a funny feeling. You know this place?”
Miguel smiled. “It’s where we used to go after high school dances and park with girlfriends. We all know it, very well.”
“Maybe get those guys headed over there,” Bobby said.
He ran into the building, placed his cellphone in a dark corner of the lobby, and headed back out to the car. The black SUV was already gone. “You have to take a piss?” Miguel asked.
“No, I just don’t want my cellphone traced to this parking lot. You said you know this place?”
“Yeah,” Miguel half-laughed. “This dumb ass has seen too many movies. It’s quiet back there. Like I said, we used to park there after dances. Spray painted the side of the building one night, I think I was sixteen. It’s a big parking lot, dark, with an exit on either end. Not a lot around it so you can see someone coming from a pretty good distance.” He reached up to the ceiling of the car and clicked two switches.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t want the lights to go on when you open the car door.”
They headed over the Robert Street Bridge, Bobby glanced out the window looking upriver. A large cabin cruiser was just heading into the docks at Harriet Island and he could make out the backlit figures of three women onboard dancing. Miguel took a left and headed down Plato Boulevard. A block before the Highway 52 overpass, he took a right onto State Street and slowed.
“The lot’s just down at the end of the street on the right. I’m going to go past the entrance and come in the back way, just to check things out. This guy is one really stupid bastard.”
They drove slowly down toward the end of the street to a ’T’ junction. Bobby spotted what had to be Sawyer’s car sitting in the middle of the dark parking lot. The car was black, or maybe navy-blue, and easy to miss. Miguel drove past the entrance, then took a right at the end of the street. They entered the lot from the back side and gave a wide berth to Sawyers car. They drove along the edge of the lot, past Sawyer, up toward the front entrance then swung round until they faced Sawyer’s car and stopped.
“You got some heat?” Miguel asked.
Bobby gave him a questioning look.
“You got a gun?”
“Huh? No, I, I didn’t think of it.”
Miguel reached under the seat, pulled out a small pistol, and handed it to Bobby in the back seat. “Here, just in case. Stick it in your belt, behind your back. Anything happens you drop to the ground. Okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Okay, hop out on the driver’s side. We’re far enough away that he may think you drove. Good luck, man.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Bobby made note of the fact that the lights didn’t come on inside the car when he opened the door. Miguel turned the brights on just before Bobby climbed out and began to slowly walk toward Sawyer’s car parked in the middle of the lot. The mist was beginning to develop into a little heavier rain and Bobby side-stepped the occasional puddle as he approached. It seemed to take an hour before he stopped in front of Sawyer’s car. The engine suddenly started up, then the headlights flashed on reflecting off the puddle in front of the car as both doors opened. Bobby squinted and raised his left arm to shield the lights shining in his eyes. He recognized Sawyer climbing out from behind the driver’s wheel and standing behind the open car door. Whoever it was that climbed out on the passenger side, it wasn’t Virgil Allen.
The guy was dressed in jeans and a dark colored t-shit. The t-shirt was emblazoned with an image and the words “2-PAC” written across the top. As he came into view, Bobby could see he held what looked like a MAC-10 out in front of him. He waded through the large puddle in front of the vehicle until he was maybe five feet away. Bobby could hear him sniffling as he approached. The guy rubbed his nose a couple of times and Bobby wondered if he had been doing coke.
“You ain’t so tough now, are you mutha-fucka? Think you’re maybe some kind of badass?”
Bobby didn’t answer. He half turned toward Sawyer who was lingering behind the open car door and said, “Charlie, can we just get this over with? I don’t like this any more than you.”
“You ain’t giving no orders ‘round here. Right now, you best shut the hell up and listen,” the guy with the MAC-10 said, then sniffled some more and rubbed his nose.
“How in the hell do I know you’re not going to come after us for the full amount, Custer?”
“What do want me do, Charlie? I’ve told you they’ll accept this money as payment in full, but there’s a small window and it’s getting smaller. You don’t do this tonight, they’re going to come after you guys with everything they got. It’ll be out of my hands. You know I can’t handle the case. They’ll get some firm that’ll gladly work for twenty or twenty-five percent and you’ll be screwed. By the way, if you close the door on the firm both you and Allen are still on the hook. Your ass is still liable. But you already know all that, so what do you want to do?”
“Don’t give this piece of shit the money, Mr. Sawyer. I can end all this for you right here. Make it better.”
Sawyer stepped away from the car and slowly headed toward Bobby. Even in the dark Bobby could see Sawyer’s eyes glaring. He carried a black satchel that almost looked like an overnight bag. As he drew closer, Bobby could see it was some sort of cloth, maybe nylon, with Velcro straps across the top. He had it tucked tightly in his right arm, carrying the thing like a football.
“So far, all you’ve said is you’re going to take our money and I’m just like everyone else. I don’t trust you, Custer. Never did, never will, not one bit.”
“Not exactly the sort of deal where we sign an agreement,” Bobby said. “See, Charlie, the very fact that you want something like that, it tells me there really is a policy and you’re just hoping your lies convinced this family and they’ll go away. I told them to accept five hundred grand because I thought that was all they could get. Right now, I’m thinking I was wrong. They can get ten times that, you know it, and now I know it. No, I made a mistake. But, I’m a big enough guy to admit it. You keep that five-hundred-grand you got in that bag. They can and will, do a hell of a lot better,” Bobby said, then watched Sawyer for a reaction.
Unfortunately, the guy with the MAC-10 got a strange look on his face when Bobby mentioned five-hundred-grand. Probably more money than the guy had ever dreamed of and there it was tucked under Sawyer’s arm. No doubt Sawyer had the money wrapped in packets, probably a hundred, hundred-dollar bills to a packet, ten thousand dollars in every little packet, fifty packets making up the five hundred grand.
“Now you just hold on a minute, Custer. I’m not through with you.”
Bobby turned and started to walk away, hoping the action would pressure Sawyer to hand over the satchel with the money.
“Custer, Custer get back here, damn it. Custer,” Sawyer yelled.
Bobby was about to turn around when the guy with the MAC-10 shouted, “I’ll deal with this.”
Bobby wasn’t running, but he was suddenly picking up speed trying to get away from the MAC-10 and the coked-up guy holding it.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sawyer yelled. “You get your God damned hands away from…” But a burst from the MAC-10 cut him off. Bobby started running. He remembered Miguel’s words, to hit the ground if there was shooting, but right now all he could think about was getting away as he splashed through the puddles.
He heard car tires screech behind him and hoped it was the SUV with Miguel’s pals coming to the rescue. Then he saw his shadow in the glare of the headlights as Sawyer’s car raced toward him.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Bobby heard Miguel’s first shot zing past his left ear. The headlights behind him seemed to swerve for a moment as two more shots came from the direction of Miguel. Off t
o his right, a burst of weapons’ fire came from the edge of the parking lot and the headlights suddenly disappeared as Sawyer’s car screeched around and headed toward the far entrance.
Bobby turned around just as the SUV raced in the far entrance and headed for Sawyer’s car, which was now turning back toward Bobby. Another burst of automatic weapons’ fire came from the edge of the parking lot. Sawyer’s car headed for the office building, then made a sharp right and screeched out of the parking lot behind Bobby’s car. Miguel unloaded a half-dozen rounds in the direction of the vehicle as it sped past, but it didn’t seem to have any effect. The SUV shot past Miguel, screeching out of the parking lot no more than fifty feet behind Sawyer’s car.
“Come on, come on,” Miguel yelled and climbed behind the wheel.
Bobby hurried to the car, opened the rear door, and was barely in when Miguel floored it and peeled out of the parking lot. Up ahead Sawyer’s taillights took a right turn back onto Plato Boulevard. A moment later the SUV followed suit.
“You okay?” Miguel shouted.
“Huh?”
“Did you get hit?”
“No, no. I’m fine, I’m okay.”
Miguel tossed a pistol and a clip into the back seat and shouted, “Reload that for me,” just as he fishtailed around the corner.
They could see the taillights up ahead and it appeared that the SUV was gaining, pulling alongside Sawyer’s car as they approached the Highway 52 overpass. Bobby pressed the button on Miguel’s pistol and the empty clip fell onto the floor of the back seat. He picked the full clip up off the seat and pushed it into place.
“Jesus Christ,” Miguel shouted and Bobby looked up just in time to see the brake lights on the SUV light up. A moment later the vehicle reversed, then stopped as Miguel pulled up behind it.
Sawyer’s car, or what was left of it, was wrapped around the concrete abutment to the Highway 52 overpass. Bobby and Miguel hurried out of the car. The driver of the SUV was alongside Sawyer’s car with his pistol drawn although there didn’t appear to be a need.
