Lovelady

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Lovelady Page 11

by Wynne, Marcus

A tinkle of laughter. “You’re cut of different cloth than your policeman friend, Frank. What do you do?”

  “What do you do with the girls that get in the limo with you?”

  “I help them, of course. Give them opportunities. I specialize in that.”

  “In helping hookers.”

  “Women have certain disadvantages, Frank. We must make our way as best we can. For some women, that means renting herself for pleasure. Would you hold that against a woman with no other options?”

  “All I’m interested in is Luella Pound. She was seen with you.”

  “Are you sure of that? The word of a drug addict prostitute eager for an easy twenty dollars?”

  “She knew you.”

  A sigh. “She’s told me what she told you, Frank. I think you misunderstand what I do. I help these women off the street.”

  “Out of the goodness of your heart?”

  Another musical laugh.

  “Oh, no, Frank. I’m very much a material girl. My business is matching supply with demand.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Isn’t it what you want to know?” She was quiet for a moment. “You interest me, Frank.”

  “All I care about is the girl. Tell me what you know about her and I’m out of your life.”

  “Why would I want you out of it?”

  “The girl.”

  “We’ll talk about Luella, I’m sure, Frank. But not tonight. Come by my office and see me some time.”

  “Where’s your office?”

  “Not far from you. Second floor, Calhoun Square. Emerald Resources, LLC.”

  “Human resources?”

  “That’s what I told you.”

  “Are you a madam or a procurer?”

  She laughed again. “Procurer? What a quaint term. You really do amuse me, Frank. We should get to know one another.”

  “Maybe you should get together with Detective Spenser.”

  “Oh, you won’t do that, Frank.”

  “How do you know what I won’t do?”

  “I can tell you’re a man who like to see to things his own way. And Detective Spenser doesn’t like you very much, does he?” She paused, listening. “And then you’d lose my cooperation. Cooperation is what I’m giving you, Frank. You want your girl? Maybe I can help you. You’re throwing needless complications into people’s lives. You want to be careful of complications you might cause for your friends, don’t you agree?”

  “You should be careful of complications. Very careful.”

  “You should hear your voice change, Frank. Quite frightening. I had nothing to do with that unfortunate incident with your friend. And it seems you found one of the players all on your own, didn’t you?”

  “You seem to know all about this…you and your friend the Man.”

  “The street has a voice, Frank, and as you know, enough money will buy you into that whisper line. You’re attracting a lot of attention. I’m not the only person following your activities with interest. You could be more circumspect.”

  “I don’t have your patience for games. All I want is the girl.”

  “You want more than that, Frank. You want much, much more. You seem lonely, do you know that? It’s almost comical how you dote on those two street urchins you’ve taken under your wing. Are they your children? Not of your flesh, I know that, but of your heart? Are they the chink in your armor, Frank? What are they to you?”

  “I’d be careful about taking too close an interest in my affairs.”

  “Oh, Frank. Now you truly sound dangerous. I did a little research on you, you know? How can a little travel writer be so dangerous? I think you’re more than you seem. Did I offend you, talking about your little friends?”

  “You take great pleasure in avoiding the simple solution here. Tell me about the girl and I’m out of your life.”

  “But would I be out of yours? I’m beginning to like you too much to just let you go.”

  “I don’t think you have any problems getting men into your life, Miss Emerald.”

  “So charming, so dangerous…truly seductive, Frank. I look forward to our next meeting.

  “I don’t have time for games.”

  “Oh, Frank, you know you love them. I can tell. If you don’t come to see me, you won’t learn about the girl. What was her name? Luella? A lovely name. Of course you’ll come. But leave your little friends at home. I have no interest in them. Come alone.”

  “I’ll come alone,” I said. “Keep your muscle on their leashes.”

  “I don’t need anyone to take care of me, Frank. I’m not like other people that way. I’m quite fine on my own with you.”

  “If you don’t have anything else to say, we should call it a night. I need my beauty sleep.”

  “You’re quite beautiful, Frank. You have character in your face. Especially those lines in your face when you haven’t had much sleep. I enjoyed watching you tonight.”

  I didn’t give her the reaction she was looking for. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Good night, Frank. Sleep well. Maybe you’ll dream of me.”

  She hung up.

  I set my phone back in its cradle. My head spun with new information. How much of this was psychological play, how much of it important and real? I sat in my armchair in the dark. Watching me tonight? Possible. Or maybe she’d been briefed by her friends on the street. For just a moment I felt like a mouse with the cat breathing just outside my hole.

  And then anger came over me.

  My name is Frank Lovelady, and I am a hunter.

  My doubts were born of late night fatigue and the soporific effect of my medication.

  And I was going to deal with these people.

  It was strange to feel doubt, something I never felt when I was working. But even though I often worked alone, just behind me was the full might of the United States, as though I were the very tip of a razor sharp spear poised to stab in the hand of a mighty warrior. Now I was just one man – a highly experienced and trained man – going against a shadowy enemy that seemed prescient in their knowledge of me.

  And I had very little to go on.

  I didn’t like the way that felt.

  So it was time to do something about it.

  But right now I needed rest. I felt down, from my drugs, from the adrenaline crash that comes after a fight, from the long day.

  Enough.

  Time for sleep.

  I got up and went quietly down the hall to my bedroom. I slung my clothes carelessly on the floor beside the bed and slipped beneath the covers. I lay there, hands crossed behind my head, and willed myself to sleep. As the quiet of the house settled around me, I heard the rhythmic creak of bedsprings. Ryan and Sarah were making love just a few feet from me on the other side of the wall. The creaking increased in tempo and I tried not to listen, but then I heard Sarah cry out and Ryan grunt, and then the creaking subsided.

  I had an erection and I was ashamed of it.

  I turned on my side and went to sleep.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  i.

  I set a large mocha in a Styrofoam cup on the swinging table attached to Marcos’ bed, then sat down in the chair. He was a fast healer; it looked as though the bruises were already starting to fade. He was still on a lot of pain medication. He stared solemnly at me, his eyes glassy and remote.

  “You ever been scared, Frank?” he said.

  I sipped my latte. “Of course I been scared.”

  “I was crazy scared. When they were beating me. I thought I was dead.”

  “You kicked their asses back enough.”

  “I haven’t been that scared since my buddy Rico got killed. In Somalia.”

  “In Mog?”

  “Yeah. Both of us were running when he went down. I didn’t see him go down, I’d just jumped through a doorway. I turned, and I saw him, his leg was all popped out where the round hit him. He looked right at me and he said, ‘Marcos, help me!’ I couldn’t do it. I just couldn�
�t move. I couldn’t have gone out that door if Christ himself had pushed me. And then the skinnies lit him up. While I stood there and watched. Nothing I could do. Nothing at all.”

  “That’s right. There was nothing you could have done. You punishing yourself for nothing?”

  “You know better than that. I see it in your eyes.”

  I rested my cup on the chair arm and leaned forward to emphasize my words. “What do you want me to say? That you should have jumped out and gotten yourself killed? That maybe then you could have saved him? Maybe you could have. But it wasn’t meant to be, Marcos. It was his day, not yours. You’re not God. You were a nineteen year old kid doing the hardest thing there is and you did what you were supposed to do.”

  “How do I carry that, Frank? How do you carry it around?”

  “Just like you. Only not as good.”

  He blinked slowly, eased back onto his pillows. “That’s good of you to say that, Frank.”

  “Nothing but the truth.”

  “Seen Miss Gigi lately?”

  “Not since we saw her last. Maybe I’ll go see her tonight.”

  “Give the pretty lady a kiss from me.”

  “She’ll probably be down here before I’m through telling her what happened to you.”

  He laughed. “She’s all about you, Frank. You two should get your dance together.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Where are your adopted children?”

  “Downstairs in the cafeteria. I didn’t know if you’d want them up here.”

  “Just as well. I don’t feel like much company. Except you. And maybe Miss Gigi. You know, I’ve never seen her in daylight. She a vampire or something?”

  “They’re giving you some real good pain medication. Drink your mocha, put a fine touch on it.”

  He picked up the cup and sipped through the tear out lid. “Good. Where’d you get it?”

  “That new place. Jumping Java.”

  “I’ll have to go by there. The help good looking?”

  “At least one. You’ll have to go there yourself to see. When they going to let you go home?”

  “Soon. They’re just watching my head injury. Maybe this afternoon, the doc gives the word.”

  I took out a notepad and pen and wrote my cell phone number down on it. “Give me a call when you’re ready to go. I’ll come pick you up. I’d like you to stay at my place for a day or two, till you’re back on your feet. Little Sarah can look after you while Ryan and I poke around.”

  “I’ll be fine at my place. I got to pick up my mail, check my answering machine…”

  “You can do all that and still stay at my place. I need you to keep an eye on the youngsters. I got a bad feeling about how much they’ve been exposed with me.”

  “You shouldn’t have taken them out on the street, man. They’re meat on the table out there.”

  I just looked at him. He paused, and then I saw comprehension grow in his eyes.

  “That’s cold, Frank. And risky.”

  “Maybe so. But I got a nibble. And you got a job. Watch them while I prowl at Miss Emerald’s gates.”

  “That’s bad news. You should wait, let me get together. We can both go.”

  “I’m better on my own. We’ll get to the end of this quicker.”

  “You’re a loner, Frank. You got people you can depend on, if you let them. You need to learn how to let people help you.”

  “I’m fine on my own.”

  “Yeah, Mr. Tough Guy, I know that. Don’t mean you couldn’t use help.”

  “I’ve asked for your help,” I said. “Keep an eye on Sarah and Ryan, hang out at my place and watch my back there. They’ve got my phone number, my license plate, maybe they’ll find a way to my house.”

  “I don’t know what I could do if they did.”

  “You know how to use a shotgun?”

  He laughed. “Me and Mr. Gauge go way back. You got a gun?”

  “A shotgun in the bedroom.”

  “Frankie, Frankie, you’re just full of surprises. A travel writer with a shotgun. You a bird hunter or a trap shooter?”

  “It’s a varmint gun. The two-legged kind.”

  He considered this. “You’ve had problems with that kind of varmint before?

  “Not at home.”

  He sighed. “Whatever, hermano. Thanks for the coffee.”

  “You going to watch the kids?”

  “Yeah. I’ll watch the kids. I’ll call you after I talk to the doc. Should be today.”

  “All right,” I said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Stay out of trouble, hermano.”

  Downstairs in the cafeteria, Ryan and Sarah shared a table in the far back corner. They held hands and gazed into each other’s eyes, oblivious to all else around them. I watched them for a long moment and tried to remember if I’d ever been like that.

  I couldn’t remember.

  I stopped at the ATM machine and took out a couple of hundred. When I went to the table, they looked up as I handed them each sixty bucks.

  “Walking around money,” I said. “Against what you’ve done and what you’re going to do.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Lovelady,” Sarah said.

  “Call me Frank.”

  “You already paid us…you don’t have to do this,” Ryan said.

  “Let’s not go over that again,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  ii.

  I pulled up in front of the sunshine gardens half-way house. Elena was in the front yard supervising three teens, a boy and two girls, planting flowers. She wore a wide brimmed hat that kept her pale skin from the sun. She stood and studied Ryan and Sarah as they followed me up the walk.

  “Hello, Frank,” she said. “Are these your friends?”

  “Hello, Elena. This is Sarah Vaughn and Ryan Cleary.”

  She came forward, smiling, slipped off her work gloves and shook their hands. “Welcome. Would you like some iced tea?”

  Ryan and Sarah looked at each other, the other teens who watched them curiously, back at Elena.

  “What is this place?” Ryan said.

  “Elena is a friend,” I said. “I want you two to stay here with her till I come back to get you.”

  “Why?” Sarah said.

  “It’s safer. What I’ve got to do today I’ve got to do alone.”

  “Safer?” Elena said. “What’s happened?”

  I told her about Marcos.

  “I hadn’t heard,” she said, concern in her voice. “Will he be all right? What’s his room number?”

  “He’ll probably be checking out today,” I said. “He’ll be staying with me. Then Ryan and Sarah can stay there, too, unless they’d rather stay here.”

  “We need to earn our pay,” Ryan said.

  “What are they doing for you?” Elena said.

  “Handing out flyers,” I said. “Talking to the kids that won’t talk to me.”

  “They shouldn’t be,” Elena said, heat in her voice. “If the same people that beat up Marcos are involved, they’re at risk!”

  “We can take care of ourselves,” Ryan said.

  “I don’t mean to speak as though you’re not here,” Elena said. “I apologize for that. But until you get to know these streets, it could be very dangerous for you. You wouldn’t want anything to happen. To either one of you.”

  Ryan and Sarah looked at each other, then at me.

  “I don’t want anything to happen to them,” I said. “That’s why I’d like them to stay here for awhile. If that’s all right with you.”

  “Of course it is,” Elena said. “Would you two like to have a look around inside while I talk with Frank? She waved over the boy planting flowers. “Henry, take Ryan and Sarah inside and show them around.”

  “Sure, Len,” Henry said. “You guys wanna come with me?”

  After a long look at me, Ryan and Sarah reluctantly followed Henry into the house. Elena watched them go, then turned and gave me a serious glare.

  “Do you
know what you’re doing?” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “You exposed those two…they’re not street kids. Not yet. They don’t know how to handle themselves. I can see it in their faces.”

  “That’s why I brought them here. They’ll be safe with you.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to find out who hurt Marcos. I’m going to deal with them. I’m going to find Luella Pound.”

  “Violence is not the answer, Frank Lovelady.”

  “I didn’t say it was.”

  “You’re used to violence, aren’t you? I see that in your face. I thought you were a writer.”

  “I am.”

  “Leave this to the police, Frank. I’ll call Joe Spenser, speak to him.”

  “Spenser knows all about it.”

  She laid one hand on my arm. Her hand was very warm. “Frank? Please. Don’t do this yourself. Let the police handle it. You don’t know who these people might be. They’ve already shown how violent they are. One man can’t take that on. Let Joe Spenser do his job.”

  I bridled inside. What did she know? She didn’t know about my life and my work. Of course I could take this on.

  Of course I could.

  “I appreciate your concern, Elena,” I said. “I’ll be careful. All I want to do is run down some leads. Then I’ll turn the whole thing over to Spenser. I don’t want to be in this any more than I have to be.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she said. “Getting even is just going to cause more violence. People you care about could get hurt.”

  “Nobody else is going to get hurt. I’ll see to that.”

  “See to yourself, first,” she said. “I’ll see to your young friends.”

  “Thank you, Elena.”

  When I pulled away, she stood there and watched till I was out of sight.

  iii.

  My next stop was Calhoun Square in Uptown and the offices of Emerald Resources, LLC. When I walked into the open atrium of the shopping mall, I scanned up, down, and all around. It felt like hostile territory to me and that was new. I came here often to browse in the bookstore, take a meal in one of the restaurants, meet Marcos for drinks at Figlio’s. I didn’t like the way my feelings had changed.

  I took the elevator up to the office level, a part of the complex I’d never been in before. The doors opened onto a sterile corridor. A glassed in directory was mounted on the wall to the right. I looked on the directory and saw emerald resources, llc. suite 204. Two doors down on the left. When I tried the door, it was locked. There was a small camera mounted above the door. After a moment, the speaker inset beside the door hummed.

 

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