Chaotic Be Jack

by Robert Tarrant

  Justin held Ty in his gaze and said, “I lived in Atlanta for a while. What utility do you guys work for?”

  Ty returned the stare and replied casually, “Oh, you would have never heard of it. It’s a small rural co-op.”

  Justin nodded slowly and said, “I’m surprised that a small outfit could spare people to come down here, once the storm makes landfall and starts north it will certainly impact Georgia.”

  Nodding, as if in agreement, Ty said, “I hear ya, brother. My sentiments exactly. Guess it’s got something to do with some kinda mutual aid agreement. If we don’t come down here to help during storms, we can’t get any help from the guys down here when we need it. Something like that. At least that’s what they told me when I raised your exact question.”

  “Guess that makes sense.” Those were Justin’s words, but I didn’t think he really accepted Ty’s explanation.

  I asked, “So, how deep is the water out there in the street? You say you have a big utility truck and you almost flooded a couple of times.”

  Ty replied, “Oh, it’s deep. At least in some spots it’s deep. Not hard to find the spots, though, most are littered with abandoned cars . . . floating.”

  Justin asked, “You got one of those trucks with a bucket, you know, for working on the lines?”

  “Naw, just a big four by four pickup. They sent us to work as relief for the local guys. We’ll use their equipment.” Ty’s tone was light, but his eyes were cold and piercing. It was obvious he wasn’t enjoying out little interrogation. I found that reaction troubling. Why wouldn’t we be curious about a couple of guys who suddenly stumble in here? Our questions seemed innocuous enough to me, unless you were hiding something and your answers were bullshit.

  The growing tension in the room was broken as Moe returned with a platter of sandwiches that he set on the table in front of our new refugees from the storm. Ty nodded and said, “Thanks, these look great.” Mooch just glared at Moe.

  I walked around the bar and pulled a couple of bags of chips off the rack and asked, “You guys like a pop to drink? That cooler is open.”

  Through a mouth full of sandwich, Ty mumbled something like, “Yeah, a Coke would be great.” At least that’s what it sounded like to me, so I grabbed a couple of Cokes and brought them to the table with the chips.

  I realized Mooch hadn’t spoken a word since they arrived. As I set the Cokes and chips on the table, I looked directly at him and said, “Sandwiches okay, Mooch?”

  He looked up at me through his watery eyes, nodded and growled, “Yeah, great.” I noticed that the right side of his face seemed to droop a little as if it might have nerve damage.

  I returned to my stool at the bar and the room fell quiet, as quiet as it could be with the storm outside roaring like a passing freight train. The two of them ate and the three of us, individually and silently, analyzed this change in our situation. I had sensed a dark aura about the two of them from the moment they arrived. They just seemed to give off a bad vibe. Maybe it was their appearance, they just didn’t fit the South Florida scene. Maybe if their story was true they could fit, but it was obvious that Justin wasn’t buying the utility worker story one bit. I just didn’t know, they certainly were wearing the heavy boots I’d only seen worn by linemen, but something just didn’t feel right.

  I noticed our phones still in the pretzel warmer, so I went around the bar and took mine out. It felt warm and dry, so I reinstalled the battery and the SIMM card and turned it on. It came on with no hesitation. Evidently, it had survived its little swim. Unfortunately, there was no service. At least that’s what the little icon indicated. Guess I wasn’t surprised. I handed Moe and Justin each a little pile of pieces and let them reassemble their own phones. Their outcome was the same as mine, each phone powered up, but there was no service available. I said to Ty, “Do you guys by chance have any cellular service?”

  After using a swallow of Coke to wash down his latest bite of sandwich, Ty replied, “Naw, lost service long time before we got here. That’s one of our problems, we use our phones for navigation. We’ve been lost ever since the cell system went down.”

  Justin slid off his stool and said, “I’m going outside to check the generator and make certain it’s ready to go when we lose power.” I’d noticed that Justin and Moe had their heads together talking low while I was talking to Ty. I didn’t know what he was up to, but I knew it didn’t have anything to do with the generator. From the hook on the wall, he grabbed the rain slicker I’d used earlier and forced open the door against the raging wind. In just the few seconds that Justin had the door open, it was my assessment that the wind had increased even more in the short time since the arrival of Ty and Mooch.

  As if in response to Justin’s comment about the generator, the lights stayed off for a good fifteen seconds before returning. Ty asked, “You have an emergency generator?”

  I replied, “Yeah, we’ve never needed to use it, so I hope it will run when needed. It’ll run the lights and all the small stuff. Will need to alternate between the air and the coolers. Can’t run them all at once, but by alternating which circuits are on in the box we can keep things going.”

  Ty looked to Mooch and then back to me. “Maybe the best bet is to just ride out the storm here. This seems like a pretty substantial building.”

  Not the way I wanted things to go. The sooner these guys left the better. Of course, I couldn’t just throw them out into a Cat 4 hurricane. Hoping to inspire their consideration of other options, I said, “We have talked about that, but we’re concerned about the storm surge. Not certain how deep the water will get here. Don’t know if the building can withstand the water and the wind.”

  Just then a small voice from behind me said, “But you told me we’d be just fine here.” I turned to see Julia standing at the end of the hallway leading from the office and the inside stairs to my apartment. She had retrieved her clothes from the dryer where I’d put them when she laid down to rest. For the first time, I noticed how tight her shorts and top were. Maybe they were tight before and I didn’t notice, or maybe I’d shrunk them in the dryer. Even her thin body had it’s womanly attributes. After seeing the leering looks that blossomed on the faces of both Ty and Mooch, I wished she had remained in my oversized sweatsuit.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Ty listened intently as I explained to Julia that while I felt Cap’s Place was a safe place to weather the storm, that without knowing how powerful the storm surge or wind would become, it was impossible to know with certainty how the building would fare. I was attempting to assuage her fears while leaving the door open for Ty and Mooch to decide they might be better off somewhere else. I gained a new appreciation for how difficult it is for politicians to tell both sides what they want to hear. Not easily done. Obviously, Ty wasn’t buying my dribble because he said, “Well, I guess Mooch and I’ll just stick with you guys. You stay here, we’ll stay here. You go, we’ll leave with you. Safety in numbers you know.” His smirk said he knew I was trying to get rid of them, but it wasn’t going to happen. Mooch just sat there eyeing Julia with his lopsided, lecherous grin.

  Just then Justin’s return was announced with a roaring gust of wind. He shook off the slicker and hung it on the hook before using one of the towels we’d left hanging on the back of a bar stool earlier to dry off his face. He exclaimed, “Damn, I think it’s gunna rain out there.” Even with the tension hanging like heavy fog in the air, everyone laughed. He took a couple of strides from the door and said, “Hey, Moe, can you show me the breaker box. I want to understand what you have in mind for alternating the circuits.”

  Justin and Moe went into the kitchen, where the breaker box is located. Ty slid his chair back from the table like he was going to stand, but he remained seated. He said to Julia, “So, little lady, what’s your story? You work here?” He looked like he thought Julia would come over and give him a lap dance while they chatted. That was probably the environment in which he had his most meaningful rela
tionships.

  Julia shrunk back and looked from him to me and then back to him. In a stronger voice than I expected she said, “My name’s Julia, not little lady, and I don’t work here.” She reached out and wrapped her hands around my arm. “I’m here with Jack.” Then with the same tone one might address a rodent asking if he could sleep in your kitchen, she asked, “And just who are you?”

  His now familiar smirk returned as Ty said, “Wow, feisty little thing, aren’t we? Well, Miss Julia, I’m Ty and this is Mooch. Nice to meet you. Looks like we’re going to be cooped up together for a while, so we should get to know each other better.”

  “I don’t think so,” was her reply as she climbed up on a bar stool near me and reached casually into one of the open potato chip bags laying on the bar. I noticed her hand trembling as she raised a chip to her mouth. She munched the chip while looking everywhere except in the direction of Ty.

  Moe came out of the kitchen and called to me, “Hey, Jack, can you go into the kitchen? Justin’s got questions I can’t answer.”

  I hesitated but could see from the expression on Moe’s face that it was not a casual request. He was walking across the bar floor toward me and as we passed, I said quietly, “Stay with Julia.”

  As he nodded and replied, “No worries, Boss.” His eyes said he shared my concern.

  I found Justin in the kitchen leaning up against the back counter. He was nowhere near the breaker box. I asked, “So, what’s your question?”

  “No question, I wanted to tell you what I found outside. I told Moe and wanted to tell you.” He took a couple of steps to his left in order to see through the small porthole window in the kitchen door. Obviously, he didn’t want us unexpectedly interrupted. He continued, “I went through their truck. Well, let me rephrase that, counselor.” Justin and Moe both love to jab me with the lawyer jokes quips. “The truck they have parked outside. It’s got Florida plates and is registered to some guy in Ocala. My guess is it’s recently stolen. In any case, it certainly isn’t a vehicle belonging to any electric utility. There isn’t one single item related to electricity in the truck, not a tool, not a foot of wire, not even a wire nut. There are two small plastic bags with a change of men’s clothing in each. That’s all, one change of clothing in a plastic bag. No shaving kit, no nothing. Does that sound like two guys sent here for an extended time on a utility outage response team?”

  I shook my head and muttered, “Shit. So, who do you think they are?”

  “Well, there’s this to consider.” He reach behind his back and pulled something from the back of his belt line. He must have had it tucked in his belt under his shirt when he came back inside. In today’s age, even I could recognize it. It was a fully-loaded large-capacity magazine for an assault rifle. “This was under the seat.”

  “No rifle?”

  “Not in the truck. My guess is that the rifle, and who knows what else, is in that heavy duffle bag that Mooch is hovering over like a mother hen on a nest full of eggs.”

  “What the hell do you think they’re up to?”

  Justin shook his head from side to side. “Damned if I know, but I do know it’s not good.” He paused and then continued, “Probably some type of heist. Bank, casino, drug dealer, something heavy. You see the tat on Mooch’s neck? Looks like a prison tat from the Aryan Brotherhood to me. Notice the way he glares at Moe?”

  I nodded, then said, “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, they walk into mine.”

  A small grin crept across Justin’s face. “You’ve been waiting years to use that line, haven’t you?”

  “Don’t you see the humor in it, Justin? If the hurricane doesn’t kill us the bad guys will. Sometimes God’s got a warped sense of humor, don’t you think?”

  The humor was gone from Justin’s eyes. “Oh, I’ve seen God’s warped sense of humor up close and personal on numerous occasions. The trick is to get the last laugh.”

  I asked, “So, what do we do now?”

  “Don’t know. We play it by ear for right now. Moe said he thinks you have a handgun upstairs.”

  “Yeah, a 9 mm in the bedroom.”

  “If you can get a chance, without arising suspicion, go upstairs and get it. Get it to me somehow.”

  “A handgun against an assault rifle?”

  “Better than Moe’s meat cleaver idea.”

  “What else can we do?”

  “Moe and I did talk about . . . “ Before Justin could finish his sentence, the lights went out again. Only this time they didn’t come back on. Justin and I withdrew the flashlights we had each been carrying in our pockets and headed back into the bar.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  PJ and Angela were alone in the kitchen doing the dishes after dinner. Her in-laws and their hostess were in the dining room setting up a board game for them all to play that evening. Her in-laws were dedicated board game players. They felt that anytime three or more people gathered, a board game should be played. PJ usually enjoyed their enthusiasm, but tonight she had far too much on her mind to even entertain the idea.

  Angela jarred her from her thoughts when she asked, “Mom, what’s wrong with you tonight? You seem like you’re somewhere else. You didn’t talk at dinner and you’ve washed that same pan three times already. I think it’s as clean as it’s gunna get.”

  “Oh, sorry. Guess I’m just a little distracted.” She handed Angela the pan to dry.

  “You’re worried about Mr. Nolan, aren’t you?”

  PJ could feel her cheeks flush as she replied, “Ah, I guess so. He should have been here by now, I’m just surprised I haven’t heard from him.”

  “Maybe he decided to wait out the storm somewhere else, somewhere closer to Hollywood. This is a bit of a drive, you know.”

  PJ nodded and said, “You’re probably right. I’m just surprised he didn’t call to tell me that.”

  “You said earlier that it was getting more and more difficult to get through on the cellular system. Maybe he just couldn’t get a call out.”

  PJ nodded but didn’t reply. Angela took a step back and cocked her head to one side as if scrutinizing her mother. A broad grin spread across her face and she said, “You like Mr. Nolan don’t you, Mom?”

  PJ replied absently, “Yeah, of course I like him, he’s a friend.”

  Angela reached out and placed her hands on each of PJ’s shoulders, turning her until they were face to face. “No, you don’t like him like a friend, it’s more than that. I can see it. Daughters can sense these things, you know.”

  PJ couldn’t help but grin at Angela’s last comment. “Daughters know these things, do they?”

  “Yep, we sure do. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. All of the time you spend going to see him to talk about cases. The times you eat at Cap’s Place. You don’t even like to eat out that much, and certainly not bar food.” Angela put her hands on her hips, and in an effort at role reversal, did her best imitation of a scowling mother. “You should have just told me, young lady. I would have understood.”

  Now PJ laughed. “I’m not admitting to anything, especially not something I don’t know to be true.”

  “Well, young lady, let’s examine the facts. Isn’t it true that you ask him to assist you on investigations where you don’t really need his help? Cases where you don’t really need his,” Angela held her hands up as if they were quotation marks, “perspective as a former prosecuting attorney?”

  “No, no, that’s not true. Jack’s perspective is always useful.”

  “Ah, yes exactly my point. Useful, but not necessary. Next, don’t you make excuses to stop by Cap’s Place for lunch, or even dinner, when it actually requires you to drive out of your way? And in spite of the fact that they don’t serve anything you really like that much?”

  “That’s not true. I really like their chopped green salad.”

  Angela pointed accusingly at PJ and exclaimed, “Lie, that’s a lie. When you first started going into Cap’s Place, back when
you were still a cop, you told me how lame their menu was. You said that if you didn’t want a burger and fries, there wasn’t much to eat there. Another clear sign that you like him: you’re lying to cover your desire to see him.”

  “Not true. I do like the salad. They’ve really improved their menu the past couple of years. The salads are really pretty good. I’m not lying to cover my desire to see Jack.”

  Angela pumped her fist in the air. “So, you admit that you have a desire to see him. A clear indication that you like him. Now just admit it, Mom, you’ve got the hots for Mr. Nolan.”

  “Angela, I’ll not admit any such thing. You are blowing my feelings for Jack way out of proportion.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, PJ knew she was going down the proverbial slippery slope, and she was picking up speed.

  “Ah, so you admit feelings for Mr. Nolan. What kind of feelings do you have, Mom?” The exaggerated smirk on Angela’s face was almost comical.

  Attempting to regain control of the conversation, PJ said, “I think this little interrogation of yours has gone far enough. Let’s finish the dishes. We don’t want to miss tonight’s games.”

  Angela lowered her voice and a serious look crossed her young, unlined, face. “Mom, I think Mr. Nolan is very nice. He’s very nice to you, I’ve seen that myself. He makes you laugh. You seem more relaxed when you’re around him.” She paused and then continued, “You haven’t dated much while I’ve been growing up, I could count all of your dates on one hand. I’m sure that’s partly because of your job, most guys are probably pretty intimidated by a cop, but I’m also sure that part of the reason was because you didn’t want me to think you were trying to replace Daddy. I was only two years old when Daddy was killed, I don’t even remember him. I try, but I can’t.” Another pause before she continued, “Well, Mom, I’m grown up now and I’ll be going off to college soon. I don’t want you to be alone. I want you to be with a nice man. And I think Mr. Nolan is a nice man.”