by Jack Huber
“I don’t think we want to tip our hand just yet,” he replied. “And, they might scale up the violence in return. I think it’s best to just watch them for now.”
“Should Bobbie and June lay low? I would think you’d want them out in plain sight and doing business as usual.”
“Exactly,” Ronin said as he stood up. Everyone else then stood. He placed his half-empty water bottle down on the log table in front of him and continued, “They should continue to try to get a recording studio to sign them.”
“We’ll be watching,” Hakida added. “They’ll be safe.”
“I hope so,” Bonnie said, sounding somewhat disappointed. “Please let us know if anything happens.” She abruptly left my campsite and headed toward her own.
“Thanks for your help, Mr. Ruger, Pat,” Hakida said as he held out his hand.
I shook it and shook hands with Ronin. “No problem. Hopefully everything will work out fine.”
“I think it will,” Ronin said. “I think it would be best if you stopped advising the ladies and escorting them. You understand.”
“I do. I’m not planning to anyway. Retired, remember?”
“Yes, well, we don’t need another fly in the ointment. Let us know if you need anything while you’re in our fair city.”
“I will, thanks.”
The two gentlemen left and I was conflicted. I hated it when I was told to butt out, especially when I brought the case in. On the other hand, I thought, how could I escape doing police work and enjoy my retirement if I didn’t step away from these cases? This was just a favor for Bonnie and I fulfilled my promise.
I decided to call my friends at the FBI to see if they had any history with the Flak gang. Before calling, I let Guy out of the motorhome, put him on his rope leader, then sat down in one of my lounge chairs. Guy’s rope was long enough to reach me and he climbed up and put his front legs on my lap, waiting for me to scratch his neck and ears. He seemed to enjoy that for a few minutes and then he climbed down and lay on the ground, not seeming to mind that it was just dirt and gravel.
I took out my phone, found Gretchen’s number in my Favorites list, and punched the green icon to make the call.
“Agent Robinson,” she answered. “How can I help you?”
“Gretchen, this is Pat.”
“Patty! I was wondering about you just yesterday. How’s the RV life?”
“Couldn’t be better! I’m really enjoying this lifestyle, rolling into a campground in the woods, setting up camp in the motorhome, touring the area in my Malibu … It’s been great.”
“How’s Dr. Mann? You two still …”
“Not really.” I thought about how much to say. “We’re parting company in a couple of days.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I was really hoping you would be happy with her, have a nice traveling companion, you know. She really seemed to like you. What happened?”
“You know me. I want a relationship, she didn’t. I don’t do casual very well.”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I’m sorry. If only you were here in D.C. I think we’d make a cute couple.” She feigned a giggle, but she sounded half-serious.
“You’re in D.C. now?”
“Yeah, I had been in New York, then Chicago. Now D.C. I actually like it here.”
“That’s fantastic. Well, let me get to why I called. Ever hear of a gang in Nashville called the Flak Union or ‘FU’? One of its leaders goes by the name of Ron-Ron.”
“No, doesn’t sound familiar.” Gretchen paused and I could hear a keyboard being punched. “If it’s in Nashville, I would suspect it’s either distributing Oxy or they’re running one of the new recording studios popping up all over down there.”
“Both, I think. Some recording artists I know are being hassled by them and I was hoping you guys were onto them already.”
“I just searched our open cases in Tennessee and they don’t come up. That doesn’t mean we’re not watching them, though. One of our local field agents may be on them.”
“Okay. Can you step in?”
“No jurisdiction. Unless someone crosses a state line with product or local police corruption is found, we’ll probably have to keep our hands out of it. Like I said, we can watch them. I’ll make sure that someone is aware.”
“Thanks, Gretch. I appreciate it.”
“No worries, Patty. Just make sure you bring your RV my way sometime.”
“You got it.”
Chapter 7
Dusk seemed to come sooner than normal that afternoon. There had been no word from Hakida, Ronin, or even Bonnie. I figured that I put out the vibe that I wanted to be left alone, and I wondered how I did that in case it would be useful in the future.
Guy and I were relaxing in front of my fire ring, sans the fire, and I was enjoying just laying back in the reclining lounge, sipping on a new lager from a local micro-brewery. There was the gentlest of breezes keeping the campground from being too hot and producing a faint rustling of the pine branches all around the park. I looked at the brown label on the brown bottle and in the dimming light I could see that it had been brewed in “Murfreesboro, Tenn.,” a suburb of Nashville. I was beginning to like dark lagers and stouts, starting with the original Guinness I had tried downtown earlier in the week.
My fascination with the beer bottle was broken by Guy sitting up abruptly and the rattling sound of an older car pulling up. I stood up and watched the rusting, dented, red Toyota Corolla, circa 1995, pull into my space, stopping just short of my motorhome.
Instead of getting out, a young lady cranked down the driver’s window and called out, “Do you mind putting your dog inside? I’m afraid of large dogs.”
I had never really considered Guy a large dog, but even if he was not the largest of Labradors, he was definitely big compared to most terriers and ankle-biters. I waved and took Guy off his rope leader, then took him to the rig’s door and watched as he hopped up the stairs. He seemed to know the drill. I closed the door behind him and turned to face the woman, who was stepping out of her car.
“Hi. Are you Pat Ruger?”
“Who wants to know?” I replied.
It was difficult to tell much about her in the waning light, but she was short, maybe 5 foot 4, and seemed to have the dark hair and facial features of a Middle Eastern woman. She was wearing what appeared to be a tan-colored trench coat. “I’ve been sent from Ron-Ron to give you a message.”
“Okay, I’m Pat. What’s your name?” I didn’t like having conversations with anonymous people, especially one representing someone who could do harm to people.
“Andilee. Or just Lee.” I could barely see the sparkle of a diamond or crystal gem on her left nostril.
“Okay, Lee. What’s the message?”
She walked towards me and when she was within about 6 feet from me, I grew uncomfortable enough to take a step back. The young woman wore very little makeup, other than some deep red coloring on her lips, and I thought that maybe it was tattooed on. She stopped and opened the front of her coat, revealing a beautifully-shaped, tanned female body underneath, without any clothing. Her flat stomach had a round black and orange tattoo, but I couldn’t tell what it was. Her bosom was small but firm with nipples that were nearly black. Her left breast had a silver nipple ring.
I must have dropped my jaw because she chuckled and said, “Ron-Ron says that he appreciates your turning down the case. But I’m more than a message. I’m a gift.”
“What?”
Lee smiled and continued. “I work for Ron-Ron at one of their clubs. I have … unique talents. I’m often someone’s gift. It’s nice when you can enjoy your work, isn’t it?” She edged closer.
“You’re not underage, are you?”
“That’s nice of you. I’m 26!” She put her arms over my shoulder.
“You are stunning, I must say, way outta my league. This isn’t going to happen. I’m sorry.”
That didn’t deter her. Lee leaned up against me and started
rubbing my chest. “Aw, don’t be like that.” One of her arms came out of her coat, revealing even more of her body.
I pulled away and picked up the loose side of her collar to help cover her up. She stepped back and let the entire coat drop to the ground. I looked around and fortunately didn’t see anyone nearby who could see what was happening.
“Pat, I can’t go back without providing my … services. We can do anything you want, sexually, and I mean anything.”
“You know I’m an ex-cop, right?” I leaned over and picked up her trench coat, dusting it off with a couple swipes of my hand, and wrapped it loosely around her shoulders. “You know, my partners at my PI firm were ex-prostitutes. Hell, I’ve been sleeping with a sex therapist. There’s nothing you can do that I haven’t seen or done. Just tell your boss we did it and we’ll call it good.”
“That’s no fun.” She grabbed the edges of the coat and wrapped up inside it. “Besides, they’ll know I’m lying. They always do.”
That made me perk up. My first thought was, they must be watching. “Okay, let’s not do it out here. Let’s go inside.”
She smiled at that and let me escort her to the door. “What about the dog?”
“Just a minute,” I answered, a bit annoyed to be moving Guy again. I opened the door, gathered him and his rope, attached it to his collar and connected it to the rear bumper of the rig. Then I returned and we climbed in.
“Wait a minute,” I said and walked through the motorhome, closing all the window blinds and shades. The front windshield’s curtains were already closed. When I got back to Lee, I said, “Now we can relax in privacy.”
“That’s what I was hoping,” she said, coming close again.
I put up my hand before she reached me and pushed on her shoulder to sit on the sofa. I stayed standing.
“I don’t understand. What did you want to do?”
“Nothing. I’m not in the market for casual sex right now, especially when there are strings attached. I just want you to be able to tell Ron-Ron that you got me into my place and let me have my way with you.”
“Like I said, he won’t believe me. Besides, I want to have some fun with you. That’s my life, having fun with grateful men who appreciate me.” She reached into her right pocket and pulled out two bright orange pills. “Maybe some ‘X’ will help put you in the mood.” She popped one and reached her hand out with the other, and when I didn’t take it from her, she popped it in her mouth and stood up to kiss me. She pushed the pill from her mouth to mine before I could stop her, but I was able to spit it out before swallowing it.
I stepped back angrily and said, “I’m not taking any drugs and we’re not having sex today!” I pointed to the sofa and instructed firmly, “Now, sit down.”
She looked put out but pulled her coat around her and sat. From her seated position my jeans were at a convenient level for her and she reached out and started to unzip them as she knelt in front of me.
I stopped her rather forcefully and pushed her back on the sofa. “This is what you’re going to do,” I said, exasperated. “You’re going to behave for the next hour here, maybe even have a bite to eat with me. Then you’re going to leave and head to wherever it is you’re supposed to report to Ron-Ron and tell him we had great sex and you can’t wait to do it again. Got it?”
“Got it.” A minute or two later she said, “What if I agree to do all that.”
“Yeah?”
“Then I’m no longer a gift with strings attached, right?”
“Right.”
“Then, we can take care of that bulge for you without Ron-Ron or anything else making me do it. Then it’s just you and me doing what we want to do.”
I was embarrassed when I realized what bulge she was talking about. I sighed. “Is that what Ron-Ron told you to do? Not to take ’no’ for an answer? Sorry, Lee. It’s just not going to happen.”
She showed a wide smile, which was brilliant. The olive-skinned beauty stood up, dropped her coat again, and said “You sure? Take a look at what you’re missing.” She turned around provocatively until she was facing me again, then placed my hand on her right breast and squeezed it for me.
I sighed and enjoyed the feeling for a moment, then stopped and pulled it back. “Another time.”
When she saw that I wasn’t going to take her up on the offer, she stopped smiling, put her coat back on and asked, “Whatta ya got to eat around here?”
“I think I’ve got some breakfast stuff. You like bacon and eggs for dinner?”
“Sure.” She sounded dejected. I turned and opened the refrigerator door and she said, “I can’t believe you’re turning me down!”
“I didn’t. We had great sex, remember?”
“Right.”
Chapter 8
I woke up feeling refreshed, like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I thought about dinner with Lee and it seemed she had actually enjoyed sitting and talking over dinner once sex had been eliminated from the equation. Her relentless nature had finally subsided and she had left after eating without further flirtation. The relief I felt was more about my success in staying retired and not being involved up to my neck in another crisis. It was time for others to take care of business.
I got dressed in my morning ensemble, a non-distinct set of dark gray sweats and white running shoes, and dropped a pod into the coffee maker. A minute or two later I let Guy outside and joined him, sitting comfortably in the cool sunshine in a lounge chair. A phone call interrupted my morning routine of coffee and contemplation. I was annoyed to see that it was a local number, area code 615.
“Pat, have you seen the news?” It was Ronin, a bit concerned.
“No, what’s happened?”
“You have the news handy?”
“Not really. Just spit it out.”
There was a pause and Ronin said, “Bobbie and June … There’s been an accident.”
“What? Are they okay?”
“Not sure, at this point. It’s serious. They were T-boned in a taxi. The cab driver was badly injured and he and the ladies were taken to the ER. The other driver fled the scene on foot and is in the wind.”
“When did this happen? Last night?”
“Yeah, around 9-ish.” After another pause, he added, “You want in? We could use your expertise.”
I didn’t answer right away.
“Pat?”
“I’m retired. Why can’t anyone remember that? You can handle it just fine.”
“Okay,” Ronin barked back. “I just thought you’d want to help figure out what happened. Sorry I bothered you.” He hung up.
I put away my phone and wondered what to do. I felt the weight return and I felt powerless to stop it. That didn’t take long, I thought. I was almost free.
Bonnie ran up to me from her site as I stood up. “Pat, did you hear?”
I nodded and hugged her. “Do you know what hospital they’re in? I can take you.”
“Thanks. I think they’re at St. Joseph West.”
“Let me get changed and we can go.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, and then I noticed she was in her pajamas, a coordinated set in pink and gray cotton. “Me, too.”
I picked her up after getting dressed in a pair of black jeans and a dark brown T-shirt that had a beer logo on the breast pocket, another local brewery called “Downtown Ale.” Bonnie was also dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, albeit blue denim and a white top. It took about an hour in heavy rush -hour traffic to get to the ER and found that they had been taken upstairs to the ICU. Ronin was waiting there already.
He approached me and said, “Pat, sorry about my call. It’s not fair, I know.”
I raised my hand to stop him from apologizing further. “Don’t worry about it. I know how it is to be hip deep in a case.” I paused and added, “Do you know how long I’ve been doing this? How many times my life has been in danger? I’m not 35 anymore.”
“I know. I get it. But, we have another problem. Their agent
is missing.”
“What agent?” I tried to recall them mentioning an agent but couldn’t.
“Louise Strasburg. They hired her yesterday.”
“How do you know that?”
“I took them to the appointment. They didn’t want anyone to know.”
“So this could be more than a coincidence.” I paused to think. “Strasburg is missing?”
“Nowhere to be found. I’m heading to her apartment now. Want to come?”
I thought about it but declined. Ronin didn’t seem to mind this time. “What about the driver who took off? Any news?”
“Not yet. The cabbie doesn’t really remember anything, except a middle-aged white guy was driving the other car. Turns out, it was stolen.”
“Figures.” I let the conversation stop there and turned my attention to Bonnie, who was distraught.
The doctor came out and gave us the prognoses. He looked so young I wondered if he was actually a doctor. The kid relayed to us that the women were both conscious but in a lot of pain. They each had several broken bones and the injuries were severe enough to keep them in ICU for a day or two. He also suggested that we postpone questioning for a few hours.
Before Ronin left I suggested to the detective that perhaps he should keep that information private. “If this was an attempt on their lives, you might not want the would-be killer to know they are alive.”
“Good point. I’ll see about a gag order. No press … and, I’ll get a uniform here to guard their room.”
He left quickly and I accompanied Bonnie up to the ICU. The nurses at the station told us that the ladies could be seen, but only for a few minutes, and escorted us to the room they were sharing.
The ICU room looked like something out of a sci-fi movie, with several computers, machines and electronics scattered around both the beds and lining the walls, which were painted a creamy green color. It was difficult to tell with all the cables and tubes running everywhere and the room was relatively dark. I asked the nurse if we could turn on a light and she flipped it on as she left us, though the room was still fairly dim.
