Now he had Mendez as an attempted murderer. And with the fact that he was left-handed, it was more than circumstantial evidence that he had the potential to murder Elizabeth as well. Plus, with a karate chop like that, it was possible that Mendez had hit Arminster on the back of his neck and disoriented him enough that Deets’ car could hit the CFO and make it look like an accident.
Only Grayson's culpability had yet to be proved. He was well-protected, however, so that might be elusive.
It was time to call George and arrest some people.
The Grayson butler was slow to answer as Eddie knocked at the door, but eventually the big portal opened. "Yes?"
"I need to use a phone to report a crime."
"Crime?"
"Yes! Didn't you hear the gunshots? Manny Mendez took a few potshots at me and Miss Tarryton. I need to call the police."
"I'm sorry, sir, but Mr. Grayson is on the phone at the moment. Would you care to wait?"
"This is an emergency," Eddie shouted.
"Yes, sir. I understand. However, Mr. Grayson doesn't like being interrupted."
Mendez was getting away. Every minute that he spent arguing with June or the butler was a minute the criminal had to find a safe place to hole up. "Damn it, forget it," Eddie told him. "I'll take care of it my own way."
The butler pushed Eddie's shoulder with the door, making it clear that he was to leave. "Very well, sir."
Eddie didn't say more; he hurried off to the car instead.
They got under way, and sped over the gravel drive, rocks and dust flying every which way. Eddie had heard something that sounded like a motorbike as he was getting June into the car. If he could catch up to the motorcycle, he might be able to grab Mendez and teach him a thing or two about shooting at people.
Eddie's car had considerably more power than a motorcycle, so he raced down the single-lane road and onto a wider boulevard. A few cars ahead, a motorcycle buzzed around traffic, veering right and left to avoid an accident. The rider had longish dark hair and was dressed like Mendez. Eddie cut through traffic to catch up.
Unfortunately, as he zigged and zagged, Eddie noticed the car sputtering. It made a knocking and grinding sound. Maybe that third bullet was embedded somewhere in the engine. In any case, the car was slowing down despite Eddie's foot plastered to the floor. Cursing, Eddie had to pull over to the side of the road, knowing he could never overtake Mendez now.
"What's wrong? Why are we stopping?"
"The car's damaged," Eddie told her. "You wait here while I go into this drug store."
"But Eddie-"
"Wait, goddamn it!"
Round-eyed, June shut her mouth firmly and stared out the front window.
Digging change out of his pocket, Eddie ran into the pharmacy and got directed to their public phone. He dropped in a coin and dialed George Williams.
George answered; he sounded tired. "Yeah?"
"George, it's Eddie Strong."
There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "Okay, what now?"
"We have evidence that Manny Mendez was the likely killer of Elizabeth Grayson. We got shot at today, and it was Manny Mendez. We can positively ID him."
George's voice had a note of excitement when he said, "Go on."
"We can also tie Grayson to Shorty Deets, though that could be circumstantial evidence. We'd need to get into Grayson's financial records to prove it. I can't do that, but you can."
"Yeah, I can."
"Through Shorty, I think we can prove that Grayson was behind the Arminster death."
"That was an accident. Arminster was seen drunk, weaving down the street."
"He wasn't drunk, George. Mendez had sneaked up behind him and karate chopped him in the neck. Arminster was dazed. He might have had that broken neck even before Shorty hit him."
"Why would Shorty take such a chance? We could have sent him up the river!"
Eddie had been thinking about that. "I can't say for sure, but I'm willing to bet that Grayson made him a big cash promise that made it worth the risk."
A pause, and then George spoke up. "Damn it, Eddie. Why can't you let sleeping dogs lay?" There was no real chastisement in the tone of George's voice. "Where are all these people now?"
"Mendez is traveling down Ventura Highway toward the beach. He could be on the Pacific Coast Highway about now, or he might be in a hole somewhere along the way."
"Did you try to catch him?"
"Yeah, but when he shot at us, he missed and hit the car. I think the engine is dead."
"Lucky that you're not dead, too. Is Miss Tarryton okay?"
Eddie considered the whopping he was going to give her for endangering herself, and all he could say was, "For now."
"Hm. I know where Shorty Deets hangs out," George said. "I'll take a few men and pick him up. Where's Grayson?"
"He was at home, last I saw him. I don't know where he might be now."
"I'll put some guys on it. We'll grab him."
"Good."
"I'll need you at the station."
"I have something I need to do first, but then Miss Tarryton and I can be there."
"What could be important enough for you to be late?"
"I owe a young lady a spanking. Got it?"
George chuckled. "Yeah, I've got it."
They said so long, and Eddie made his way back to the car.
June was clearly in a huff as he approached the passenger side. June's window was down so he leaned on the doorframe. "I'm going to see if I can fix it. Stay here." She turned up her nose at him, but didn't talk back. It was a good thing; Eddie was not very happy with her.
Calling from under the hood, Eddie told June to get behind the steering wheel and start the car. After a minute, the alternator began to turn over the engine. It sputtered a little, but started. Eddie wasn't thrilled with the sound of it, so he asked her to turn it off and fussed with it a little more. The air filter had been damaged and Eddie had to manhandle it back into a usable form as well as checking all the hoses. It was a temporary fix, but better than having no car at all. Especially for what he had in mind.
At his signal, June started the car again, and things sounded better, so Eddie put the hood down and, after wiping his hands on a rag from the trunk, he got behind the wheel again and started them down the road. He'd seen something interesting as they'd traversed the Valley over the last few days. He thought it merited exploration and this was the perfect opportunity.
* * * * *
The sign said, "Sepulveda Drive-In Theatre." It was deserted on that particular day—the hanging notice on the preventive chain said "closed on Mondays" and a lone guard stood in a small building at the entrance. Eddie slipped him a fin and the guard unlocked the chain and let them drive in. June recognized it from old vids. It was a movie theatre where cars parked and passengers watched the film through their windshields.
The sun was going down rapidly, and Eddie carefully maneuvered them to the middle of the parking lot, navigating the many bumps as he did. Finally, he got to a place smack in the middle of the theater where he stopped the car and turned off the engine.
"Why are we here?" June asked, her voice stiff. Both Eddie and she knew why, but, perversely, she was going to play innocent. She didn't know the reason for the ruse. It just seemed like the thing to do at the time.
"I'm going to punish you for chasing hell-bent after Mendez. You could have been killed. It's incredible that you weren't."
"He got away. I didn't stop him," she said defensively.
"Yeah, so the whole dangerous play was pointless. What were you going to do if you caught him?"
Her mouth got tight. "Subdue him?"
Eddie snorted. "Aha. You have a sap or a gun in that purse?"
"No. But I'm not defenseless. You've said so yourself."
"You can't defend yourself, bare-handed, when a gun is pointed at you, June."
"Nothing happened! I'm okay!"
"This time. This is not the first time. A
nd there will be no next time. I guarantee it."
"Shouldn't we be chasing after Mendez?"
"Don't change the subject," he said sternly. "And George Williams' boys are out after him. They'll pick him up. It's not instantaneous; we have some time."
"They haven't exactly been efficient up to this point, Eddie." June wasn't at all confident that the cops would nab Mendez.
"Get out of the car."
June obeyed, and as she did, some lights came on around the theatre, making the area a little brighter to enable the guard to do his job properly. Eddie's car headlights still shone in the dim lot. Eddie got out after June and shrugged out of his suit coat, walking around to the passenger side as he rolled up his sleeves. The coat he threw through the passenger window, and pretty soon his thick forearms were bared.
"I want you to put your hands on this pole." He pointed to a pole about a meter high, one of quite a few in the lot. It had a speaker box on it, with a dial to control the volume.
"Eddie. This is a public place. You can't spank me here."
"No one is around, and maybe the exotic location will impress this episode on your memory. Take down your panties and put your hands on the pole."
Frowning, she stalked over to the nearest pole and yanked down her cotton panties. The nylon of her dress slithered along her behind. Eddie stood to one side of her and lifted her tattered skirt, tucking it into her belt. "Step out of your panties." After hesitating, June did as ordered. "Legs apart. Yeah, like that. Better hang onto that pole tight, June. I'm not holding back."
June tried not to tremble, but she couldn't quite help the shivers over her skin. "Eddie, please. I won't do it again."
Eddie didn't respond except with a slap on her naked fanny.
The cheek started tingling almost before his hand landed. It stung. "Ouch!"
Five more times, Eddie's big hand came down on her behind. By the sixth spank, June was really cringing and biting her lip. A smoldering fire had been ignited on her butt and every successive spank made it grow hotter. Eddie continued spanking her, traveling his awful strokes down the inside of her thighs, where her garters didn't reach. Those spanks to her thighs hurt worse than the ones on her bottom, and some tears began to form in her eyes. She squeezed them shut, trying to stop herself from sobbing. Falling apart was not an option she wanted to allow, there in the vast parking lot where anyone could watch.
Music started from the concession stand, and a neon light came on. It was a picture of a sausage in a bun in pink and green. The garish display and the loud old music told June that there were more people around than she could see. Embarrassment washed over her. It was humiliating, a grown woman being spanked in a movie theatre. People must be laughing at her.
Eddie, however, apparently liked the music because his slaps started falling in counter-point to the rhythm. June only hoped that when the song ended, the spanking would end, because her butt was burning up, pain radiating around her hips and down to her knees.
She didn't know how many spanks later, she started to cry in earnest.
"Please, Eddie," she sobbed.
"You could have been killed, June. Did you realize the danger you were in?"
Actually, she'd acted without thinking very hard. She didn't know what she'd have done if she'd caught up with Mendez. She'd only been angry that he'd hurt Eddie, and that spurred her to want to punish the man who'd done it.
But, between sobs and cries of pain, June realized that if she'd been seriously injured or killed, the game would have been over. Any chance of finding out who Eddie really was would have been lost. It would have killed her hope of locating him. Certainly, that thought had to have gone through Eddie's mind as well. No wonder he was so mad.
"Ghost Riders in the Sky" ended and so did the spanking.
"That's the second time you've endangered yourself, June. No more or the punishment will be with my belt."
He sounded very stern, but he opened his arms for her. June's skirt slid down to cover her as she turned into his embrace, sobbing and sniffling. The pain in her butt throbbed and stung. It itched and burned. But Eddie's arms were secure, holding her tight and safe. His big hands wandered over her back, soothing her shaking.
June realized that part of her reaction was a delayed sense of horror at being shot at. She'd nearly blown everything. It didn't matter so much that she couldn't be hurt in her real life as it did that she might have lost the man of her dreams. As long as they shared the dream, there was hope that something could come of it in reality, too.
"I'm sorry," she muttered into his white shirt.
Eddie's voice was soft. "Shh. I know. Don't scare me like that again, doll. Don't do it."
After a while, Eddie helped her back into her panties and, though it made her sore bottom all the more sore, she slid into the passenger seat and started patching up her blotchy makeup. Her red-rimmed eyes were hopeless, despite an extra coat of mascara—mascara that gave her raccoon eyes every time she cried. Eddie drove them out of the lot.
"Time to get to the police station. Hopefully, they'll have gotten the three principals by now."
In one way, June was glad to have the bad guys get what they deserved, but at the same time, she was torn up and panicky inside, thinking that the dream was about to end.
Chapter 9
The police precinct was busy, cuffed night-dwellers being led around into various rooms and left to sit on benches outside closed doors.
Eddie escorted June up to the sergeant in charge, a man who acted as if he knew Eddie, favoring him with a friendly smile. "Captain Williams. Is he here?"
"Sure, Eddie. He just brought in some Mexican guy. He was struggling, but the Cap'n was in charge of the situation."
"Where are they now?"
"In holding room three." Helpfully, the sergeant pointed with his thumb. "Go on in. I know Cap's been waiting for you."
Eddie thanked the cop and June followed him down the linoleum-floored hall to where the interrogation rooms appeared to be. They were well-labeled and three was not far down the connecting hallway. There was an observation window looking out into the hallway, and Eddie could see Mendez and George in there together.
Knocking at the door brought an "enter" from inside.
Sitting at a small, battered table were George Williams and Manny Mendez. Mendez was angry, his eyes narrowed nearly to slits. His clothes were wrinkled and torn, and he had a puffy, bloody lip. He hadn't been brought in without a struggle.
Eddie and June stood on the captain's side of the room, and Eddie didn't have to wait long to find out how far the interrogation had come—not far.
"I didn't do nothin' wrong. These private cops think they know something, but they don't. They got no evidence." He scowled at June. "Hell, she's not even a cop. Puta!"
Eddie saw red for a moment and quickly reached across the table to grab Mendez's shirt front. He shook the smaller man and got in his face. "Watch your mouth, jerk, or I'll knock your teeth into next week." His voice was a growl.
Mendez popped up out of his chair. "Hey!" He looked at George. "Can he do that? I'm in cuffs. I can't defend myself. What kind of cops are you?"
George reached out and put a hand on Eddie's forearm. Reluctantly, Eddie let Mendez go, shoving him back into his chair.
"You're lucky I don't put a slug into you, like you tried to do to Miss Tarryton."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"How about holes in my car? How about the swelling on my neck where you hit me? That's enough for assault with intent to kill." He turned to George. "Did you find the gun?"
"No," George replied, "but he had bullets in his pocket."
Turning back to Mendez, Eddie said, "Not too bright. Confess and things will go easier on you."
"I don't got to tell you nothin'."
"No," George said amicably. "You can tell the judge at your indictment hearing."
Mendez frowned harder and pressed his lips together.
T
here was shouting outside the window and two cops approached, dragging Hendrickson Grayson between them. Mendez looked up at the commotion and his face went white.
"Henny," he whispered. Panic in his eyes, he reached his cuffed hands across the table toward George. "He didn't do nothin'. Let him go."
"He's important to you, isn't he, Manny?" June said, her tone soothing. "Why don't you tell us what happened?"
Mendez bit his swollen lip, winced and closed his eyes tight for a moment. "If I talk, will you let Henny go?"
Eddie thought that was a stretch, and apparently so did George. "We have evidence against him, Mendez. No one is going to be let go. Some charges might be minimized, of course…"
"Yeah! Yeah, lower the charges. I'll take the heat. I did it. It was my idea to bump off Arminster. I found Shorty Deets and offered him a boatload of money, so much that he couldn't say no. He knew that he might get sent to San Quentin if he was caught, but I made it worth his risk. And-"
"Where did you get the money?" George asked.
"I…uh…I saved it out of my pay."
Eddie snorted. A pool boy paying for murder? That seemed unlikely. "Try again, Mendez."
Grayson's voice carried right through the walls as he called for his lawyer and demanded to be let free. Mendez's face was bleak, desperation in his voice as he answered. "I stole it. I stole it from Henny."
"Can you prove that?"
"I'm tellin' you the truth! I stole it!"
June asked a new question. "Why would you care about Bill Arminster, Manny? What did you have against him?"
"He…uh…I didn't like the way he talked to Henny."
"So you had him bumped off?" Eddie asked with a sneer.
Mendez buried his face in his hands and started to cry. "Oh, please. Let Henny go. I'll tell you whatever you want to hear. Henny can't go to jail; he just can't!"
"Tell us the truth and he'll have a better chance. Who was behind Arminster's death?"
The captive man sobbed. "Henny and me. Arminster found some payments, payments to me and Shorty Deets. They were big payments. Henny gave me the money because he wanted to. The cheques were gifts. Arminster kept prying and pestering. It was his own fault."
Eddie, My Love Page 12
