Charlie had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes. Robbie was sometimes a bit too much, but he was never boring. So, Charlie decided to tweak him right back.
“Man, is she Hot! I mean. Tall, blonde, with gorgeous blue eyes. Fit, as the Brits might say. Smart, too, so Robbie wouldn’t last five minutes with her. She actually speaks in complete sentences and has her own place. You know, she doesn’t still live with her parents.” Charlie threw in the last part, grinning at the others.
“Dude,” Robbie replied indignantly, “that was one time. One freaking time! And she was twenty-seven and living with her folks after her divorce. Just trying to get back on her feet.”
“Or back on the pole,” Cody interjected with a snicker. “You know, down at the Pink Pussycat Cabaret where she worked.”
Robbie snorted, but in mirth, not objecting because it was simply the truth, before retorting, “That was some shock, I admit. What self-respecting stripper still lives at home?”
“And I rest my case, Your Honor,” Charlie deadpanned, before getting serious again. “Look, if it was one courthouse, I could see the Federal Protection personnel coming out to give a warning, but two different courthouses? Doesn’t sound right.”
“Outside my bailiwick,” Randy said, “but I agree, it is something peculiar. And anyway, you guys are missing the important part: Charlie has a girlfriend.”
Charlie groaned as the good-natured ribbing went into full swing. He went along, his crooked lips twisted up in a smile as he listened to his friends, his brothers, give him shit. That was to be expected, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Too bad Bert couldn’t make it this year,” Randy said, finally changing the topic.
“Hard to get away, I’d imagine,” Robbie added. “He’s kind of having to run the whole business since his dad had his heart attack. Plus, you know, the whole ‘wife and kids’ thing. Must suck something awful having to run every decision past the C.O. before you can put your pants on in the morning. So much for the unstoppable Pirate. It’s just sad.”
“Come on, guys,” Charlie interjected, “Lydia’s cool. She had Kristi and the kids stay with her when she went down to surprise her parents last year. That was pretty nice, considering they’ve never met. Well, except on Facebook.”
That got a groan from the others, mentioning the social networking site that everyone on the planet over the age of thirty, present company excluded, held a membership.
“Maybe they can make the trip in the fall, after the charter business slows down a little,” Cody mused. “Be good to see those kids again. They were just tadpoles that last time.”
Thinking about it, Charlie agreed with Cody. It would be good to see their old comrade, and Charlie knew Bert, salt water running through his veins and all, still found their retreat to be a place to find his peace.
“Would be nice to see them,” Randy chimed in, and his voice sounded heavy as he continued. “Would be nice to see all our old friends one more time.”
Knowing he was speaking of Wheat, and the rest of the men they’d lost on that last mission, as well as others that’d come before, Charlie and Robbie managed a somber “Amen” while Cody, lost in his own thoughts, continued to stare off into the distant green hills.
***
Walking into the clubhouse, Kristi looked around and saw Lena heading to the kitchen. Every wall in the double wide had been ripped out and the only closed rooms were the two bathrooms. At this end, next to the kitchen where the master bedroom once sat, a huge screen dominated one wall with a projector mounted on the ceiling. Recliners were arranged in rows with a sectional on the back wall like a movie theater. She knew basketball and hockey would be on that screen this weekend.
In the center of the clubhouse when you walked out from the kitchen was a game area. A pool table sat in the middle of the floor with a card table off to the side. On the other wall sat two flat screen TVs that had game consoles hooked up.
Then at the far end, a rather nice gym was set up. All the boys worked out and had gotten Kristi back into exercising. The only people not in shape were Aaron and Tyrone. They weren’t fat, just not in shape. Tyrone, for his part, had worked construction for years, but he lacked the physique for running.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see what the clubhouse really was. A really big and nicely set up man cave.
“Need any help, Mom?” Kristi asked, moving over to the stove.
“No, you go get your stuff set up,” Lena said as the sound of engines sounded outside.
“Okay, but I’ll come back and help,” Kristi said, and Lena only nodded.
Walking back out onto the massive deck, Kristi looked at the gas grill and one of the biggest hot tubs she had ever seen. Giving a sigh she moved to the steps and stopped, seeing her Suburban had been moved and was sitting next to her cabin. “Just once, I wish they would stop,” she groaned, reaching the ground.
Off the back deck were two buildings. She walked past the small building on the right that Robbie and Cody had built to house batteries. In the stream that ran around the oxbow, Robbie and Cody had built a small dam and put in several turbines. Kristi didn’t know how much power they put out, but they didn’t have to run generators.
There was power on the property at the barn next to the road, but the boys didn’t want to run it to the camp at the back. So that’s why they’d put in the turbines. There was no cable, they had put in satellite for TV and Cody put up a relay to use a hotspot for internet. The relay also helped with cell service because without it, there was none.
Granted, you could only use a cell phone in the camp, but you could use one. Although most put their cell phones away as soon as they arrived.
On the other side of the deck was another building. It was smaller but led to a large and deep root cellar. There was food down there, but it mainly held liquor, beer, and wine to be used in the clubhouse.
Between the two buildings was a large fire pit with chairs surrounding it. On many nights a fire would be built, and everyone would just sit around the fire talking.
Walking around the fire pit to her cabin, Kristi walked in and saw all their luggage already unloaded and sitting on the living room floor. Giving a sigh, she grabbed her suitcase and moved through the living room that had a small kitchen on the other side of the room. A small bathroom sat off in the far corner.
There wasn’t a TV in the living room, only a coffee table, couch, and a recliner with a bow rack on the wall. On the opposite wall from the door were three doors to their bedrooms. Walking in the far left door, Kristi put her suitcase on a small stand at the foot of the bed.
The only other thing in the room was a bar mounted on the wall to hang clothes on and an empty gun rack. Like everyone else, they used gun racks in the cabins because when they left, they put the guns back into their gun safes in the storage containers. “Wonder if Emily will let me leave her AR here?” Kristi mumbled, going back to the living room. Knowing Emily would throw a fit to take her pink AR home, Kristi just gave up on that idea.
Grabbing the kids’ stuff, she carried it to their small rooms. Like her own, the rooms were just the same. Small with one bed, since that’s all that could really fit inside. It didn’t matter because when anyone was at the retreat, you were outside or in the clubhouse.
Taking her cell phone out, Kristi set it on the coffee table and headed back outside. She looked over and only saw the boys’ vehicles there. Wondering where they were, Kristi headed back to the clubhouse. Looking out in the woods across the stream, she saw the boys and her kids riding four-wheelers through the trees.
Changing course, she walked between Cody and Randy’s cabins and stopped at the deep ravine the stream had cut around the oxbow. The stream was only six feet across, but the ravine was twenty feet deep and three times that wide. Looking at the clear stream at the bottom, Kristi stared at the water as it flowed over a two foot waterfall. The soft roar was very comforting.
“I swear, this plac
e is a small piece of heaven,” Oliver said, walking up beside her.
Giving a sigh of content, “Yes, it is,” Kristi said, then turned to Oliver. “Pop, I’ve always wanted to ask, why don’t you and Mom have a cabin?”
Oliver moved closer and put his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close. “The boys wanted to get us one, but we told them no,” he said, then waved over at the RV. “Don’t really need it when you have that.”
“True,” Kristi said, resting her head on his side.
Squeezing her tight, Oliver looked across the ravine at everyone riding around. “Don’t be too hard on the boys. They love you and those kids,” Oliver said with a grin.
Giving a snort, “I know, Pop, and if I do start on them, they run and tattle to Mom,” Kristi chuckled.
“You going to ride with them?” Oliver asked. “They pulled your four-wheeler out.”
“No, I told Mom I would help her with supper,” Kristi said with disappointment.
Dropping his arm, Oliver popped her on the butt lightly. “Now you get, don’t make me take my belt off,” Oliver laughed.
Turning around, Kristi broke into a run around her cabin and saw the double doors of her container open. Sitting outside the doors was the four-wheeler the boys had bought her. Grabbing her helmet and pulling it on, Kristi jumped on the seat before hitting the start button and took off.
The boys would ride through the ravine to the other side and each time they did, Kristi’s heart would stop. The walls of the ravine were almost vertical, and she had forbidden the kids to even try it by telling them she would break the four-wheelers if they ever attempted it.
Speeding out of the camp, Kristi turned right to follow one of the many trails that had been made across the land. She slowed when coming to a bridge the boys had made out of trees across the ravine where it narrowed down to only twenty feet across.
Stopping on the bridge, Kristi looked down in the small thirty-foot gorge the stream had worn away and at the small building that housed the turbines. Hitting the throttle, she sped over the bridge and saw the gun range off to the left. She had been to many ranges and only a few could even come close. There was a covered awning with cables running down the three-hundred-yard-long range.
Even if it was raining, you could hook your target up on the cable and push a button to a motor. The target would zoom down the range until you wanted it to stop. Beside the long range was a popper range with different steel targets set up.
Speeding past the range, Kristi thought of the skeet range at the front of the property that also served as the long rifle range. Once you made sure the cows were out of the way, you could shoot seven hundred yards across the field at the front of the property near the road.
Seeing movement, Kristi slowed and saw Emily zoom across the trail Kristi was moving on. Giving her mom a small wave, Emily zoomed past with Clark behind her and the boys following along in single file. Turning her handlebars, Kristi hit the throttle and joined at the back of the line as they sped around the property.
Chapter Eleven
Cleveland, OH
After a fairly interesting week following a visit to the retreat, Charlie found Friday at ten a.m. back at the downtown office to be glacially slow-going. After the long hours he’d been putting in working on the Melton case, he could probably just take off the day and no one would say anything. There was a big, fat fee coming in and it had been generated in-house, so Billy wouldn’t need to chop it up with any other firms.
But work marched on, and Charlie saw he had a mountain of interrogatories in his inbox to review and sign for several cases. Judging from the stack, he might be finished by lunch if he knuckled under and focused on the matter at hand. That way, he might be able to cut out at one and still get a little range time in this week. He didn’t have any client meetings scheduled for the rest of the day after all.
Like a machine, Charlie plowed through the first half of the stack and was reevaluating his departure time when his phone buzzed with an incoming call. Looking at the computer screen, he saw the caller was Billy Carpenter himself, and snatched up the receiver on the second ring.
“This is Charlie Tucker. How can I help you today?” Charlie practically sang with fake enthusiasm in his greeting.
“Tucker, don’t pretend like you didn’t know it was me calling,” the old man groused good-naturedly. “Get down here when you get a chance.”
“Yes, sir,” Charlie replied crisply. ‘When you get a chance’ was Billy-speak for as soon as possible. ‘Right now’ meant just that, and don’t worry about running someone over in the hallway. Logging off his computer and securing his files, Charlie shut the door to his office and took off with a purposeful stride down the plushily carpeted main thoroughfare that ran through the middle of the offices. He passed the front desk, also known as Grand Central Station when they had more than one deposition or settlement conference going on at once, and headed for the power corridor where Billy Carpenter and his chief associates claimed their offices.
Billy had three long-time associates that he allowed to call themselves partners, but only Billy Carpenter ran this show. Charlie figured the three junior partners had no more than 10% equity in the firm, and he would not have been surprised to know their actual ownership stake was zero. Such things were above his pay grade, though he admitted to himself he was a little curious.
Billy Carpenter’s office was a sprawling, glassed-in monument to ego and success. The office was a diamond-shaped space, half wood panel and then half floor-to-ceiling glass, with the outward facing point like the prow of a ship jutting out into space or at least, the thirtieth floor of the building. The glass windows offered a nearly 180 degree view of downtown Cleveland and out into the lake. Autographed pictures lined the pale wood paneling from floor to ceiling and in them, Charlie could see everything from candid snapshots to elaborate, professionally-shot photographs.
Most of the pictures were of Billy shaking the hand of some sports celebrity or political figure. When he’d first been hired, Charlie spent a bit of time surreptitiously examining the pictures and knew they featured everything from the obligatory ‘presidential handshake’ from most of the last thirty plus years, from Jimmy Carter to Ronald Reagan to the current inhabitant of the White House. No shocker there, since Billy knew while the Democrats carried water for his causes, he needed to spread the wealth to both sides of the aisle.
Billy’s craggy, progressively more sun-spotted features seemed much more animated in the pictures where he was posing with football greats Jim Brown, Paul Warfield, and even Bernie Kosar. These seemed to have been at various charity events sponsored by the stars, and Billy had a reputation in the local legal community as being a soft touch. Especially when it came to charities aimed at helping children. That was the rumor. But after working for the man for over four years, Charlie still couldn’t say he understood the man or what really motivated him to come to work every day. The man was at least seventy years old.
This time when Charlie entered the office, accompanied as always by Billy’s watchdog secretary Felicia, he was surprised to see the old man stand up and come around the desk, his hand outstretched. Charlie took the soft, baby smooth hand in his and returned the hard-pumped shake as Billy went so far as patting him on the other shoulder.
“There he is,” Billy said, speaking to Felicia but with the door open, he knew everyone on this side of the building could overhear Billy’s words at this volume. “The man of the hour.”
“Thank you, Mr. Carpenter,” Charlie responded. He figured this had to do with the Melton case, and he was correct. The wire transfer of funds must have come through today.
“You not only delivered a great outcome to our client and the firm, you also managed to give that asshole Bentson a right reaming in the process. Never could stand that man,” Billy continued and gestured for his associate to follow him over to the massive glass and steel monstrosity the old lawyer used as a desk.
“Here you go, so
n,” Billy Carpenter announced, his voice still boisterous but somehow more subdued in volume as he thrust an envelope in Charlie’s direction. Charlie wisely accepted the cream-colored envelope and slipped it into his suit pants pocket without looking at it. “That’s just a little taste for you, but rest assured, I’ll be thinking of you come bonus time if you keep up this quality of work. Yes, indeed.”
Sensing his audience with the Emperor was at a close, Charlie thanked his boss for thinking of him and made a graceful exit. He managed to avoid opening the envelope and looking at the check inside until he was back in his office.
“Huh,” Charlie said to himself, looking at the check for fifty thousand dollars. “That will pay for a lot of Match Grade ammunition, the new scope, and leave some over for the kids’ college funds.”
Being on the plaintiffs’ side of the bar, Charlie was accustomed to seeing a large chunk of his compensation come from the year-end bonus and last year, he’d banked over twice that in December when the checks had come out. Oh his salary was more than sufficient for his needs, but the extra had made paying off his student loans a much easier burden.
“Yep, this is definitely a day to play hooky,” Charlie decided and dove back into the stacks of paperwork occupying his inbox. If he skipped lunch, he could still be out by one o’clock.
Chapter Twelve
Cleveland, OH
The range was a bit windy this afternoon, but Charlie compensated for the steady breeze as a matter of course and he made minute adjustments to his posture on the mat. Memories of hot, muggy days spent in a similar setting at Fort Benning while he learned the trade and later, hotter but much drier days and nights while he plied that trade, crowded into his head. After years of experience, Charlie managed to banish those intrusive recollections to the back of his mind and he focused on the now.
Stolen Liberty: Behind the Curtain Page 12
