by Jack Huber
To say the fellow was upset would have been an understatement. His face turned bright red and I could tell this was unexpected. “I don’t understand,” he said nervously. “They owe me about five grand, maybe six.” He tried it once again and got the same message. “I was waiting for another payment but they said this was urgent.”
“Obviously, you are no longer employed,” I said, trying to sound sympathetic. “Since they didn’t pay you, you’re not bound by any non-disclosure clause, correct?”
Martin acted like he was still trying to process his situation and didn’t answer.
“Buddy, boy,” Jimmy added. “You got problems. Why don’t you let us help you with them?”
“How would you help?” he answered with some anger. “You gonna pay my bill?”
“No, that’s not gonna happen,” Jimmy replied as he pulled his gun back from Martin’s side. “But you can help us get these bastards for stiffing you. We’re looking for some info about their operations, their music business. Can you help with that?”
“Probably not, but I’ll tell you what I can.” He shook his head. “I knew I should have gotten more money up front.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “As a retired PI, let me tell you that an experienced investigator always works on retainer, and before the retainer is used up, gets more retainer.”
“What do you want to know?”
Jimmy answered, “Why did they think we might be investigating them?”
“I’m just guessing here, but I think they’re in some sort of a prevent defense with their drug business. They’ve been getting some pushback from customers and some competition for their dealers. I was working another assignment when they had me change gears and follow you guys.”
“What other assignment?” I asked.
“Trying to find out who was working their dealers.”
“Did you find anything out?”
“Not specifically. It seemed to be a large syndicate from somewhere.”
I thought about what he was saying and asked how the Flaks had paid him originally.
“Money transfer into my account.”
“Another mistake,” I said. “Did you know the permission you give someone to put money into your account can also give them permission to take it out?”
“What the …” He picked up his phone and brought up an app, then relaxed. “Nope, no money’s missing.”
Jimmy smiled and said, “The good news is that the payment can probably be traced by the feds.”
“Good point,” I replied. “Let’s take Martin to Ronin and let them figure this out.” I got out of his car and instructed them to follow me.
I got back to my Malibu and realized that Alan was gone. In his place was a handwritten note that simply said, “Starving.”
Chapter 12
It was getting late at night after leaving Martin with Ronin and his crew, then dropping Jimmy off at the hotel. When I was getting out of the car, I heard loud barking coming from the rig and I hoped Bonnie had remembered to feed Guy while I was out. I had called her to do that and she had said she would.
As I fumbled with my keys in the dark, something moved near my campfire ring. “Who’s there?” I asked as I brought my phone out and turned on its flashlight. It was Lee, dressed in a miniskirt and high leather boots, and it looked like she was crying.
“Pat, it’s me. They’re gone, just gone.” She ran up and hugged me. “I’m scared.”
I pulled away from her and asked, “Who’s gone?”
“Ron-Ron, the guys, the girls, everyone.”
Guy was still barking but I was able to hear her okay. “What?” I said, turning her to face me. “How? When did this happen?”
“I was on a special job in Chattanooga, gone all week. When I got back to the warehouse — the office — it was trashed. And blood. There was blood everywhere.”
“And nobody called you or warned you?”
“No … and there was no one there. I … I think they were all killed.”
“Just a sec …” I decided to let Guy out so the barking would stop. He jumped up on me but let me settle him down after a minute. “It’s okay, boy.” I had him lie on the mat in front of the steps and I attached his rope. “Who would have done this?”
“I … I don’t really know. Ron-Ron never really told me what was going on and everything. I know he was fighting with someone and was really worried about you pokin’ around.”
“Hold on.” I pulled out my phone and called Ronin. “Listen, I’ve got someone here with me who says the Flaks have been taken out. Do you know anything about that?”
“We just got a call from a business office outside of the downtown district. Multiple shots fired. We sent out several squad cars to the scene and I’ve been waiting for confirmation that it was the Flaks headquarters.”
“Maybe this will help,” I said, then asked Andilee if she had an address for the warehouse.
“1293 North Humbolt Road.”
“Did you get that?” I asked the detective.
“Yeah, that’s the place. I better head over there. You have a witness?”
“No, just one of their girls that showed up and found the place torn up and bloody.”
“You better keep her under wraps. You never know if she’s a loose end that will get taken care of.”
“Got it.”
“Let me know what you find out.” I hung up the phone and sat on a lounge chair.
“What?” Lee asked as she also sat down, though at the edge of the seat.
“The police were already on their way there. They think you could be in danger.”
“That’s what I thought! What am I gonna do?”
I thought for a minute. I looked up when the porch light came on at Bonnie’s motorhome. I stood up and said, “Come with me.”
She followed me over to Bonnie’s rig and stood behind me as I knocked on the door.
The hatch opened and Bonnie said, “Since when do you knock?” She saw the girl and changed her tone. “What’s going on? Something wrong?”
“You’re basically done here in Nashville, right?”
“Pretty much, yeah. Why?”
“This is Andilee.”
“Lee,” she corrected. “Please call me ‘Lee’.”
“Lee is in a bit of a pickle. I need to get her out of town for a while. I thought you could use an assistant.”
“You don’t gotta pay me,” Lee added. “Just let me work for you and stay safe.”
Bonnie was obviously taken off guard and didn’t immediately answer.
“Bonnie, this is serious. You know I wouldn’t ask otherwise. This girl just lost all her … co-workers … and is a loose end. She needs to hide out.”
“I’ll do it for you. How soon?”
“Tonight,” I replied. “Please.”
Bonnie looked around the campsite and she seemed a bit overwhelmed.
“I’ll help you get packed up.”
“You empty the tanks and I’ll button up the furniture. There’s a flashlight back there.”
“Deal.” I walked to the back side of the motorhome and found the flashlight. There was a gray plastic milk crate beneath the sealed underside, sitting just to the left of a couple of pull levers and next to them, an orange sewer hose attached to an outlet and running on the ground to the rear of the rig. I reached into the crate, pulled out a pair of latex gloves, and put them on.
I shone the light down the hose and everything looked okay. The handles of the levers were labeled “Black” and Gray.” As always the black tank, with toilet waste, needed to be emptied first so the gray water in the other tank holding shower and kitchen water, could help clean out the sewer hose.
I knelt down in front of the lever and the sewer hose and began to pull. As I did, a yell from Bonnie startled me.
“Don’t pull the black tank yet!”
It was too late. The black waste water blew the hose off the outlet and rushed out, drenching me with its
contents. I managed to push the lever closed and stopped the second half of the tank from emptying on me as well.
I heard abrupt, hysterical laughter from the two women who came to see what happened. “I’m really sorry,” Bonnie said, barely containing herself. “I forgot to tell you to hold the sewer hose tight and open the valve slowly.”
I was not in as good a mood now, smelling with piss and crap in various stages of decay all over my blue jeans, now brown, and gray shirt, now also brown, and my face. I stood up and went to the fresh water hose connected near the back of the motorhome and detached it without turning it off. I sprayed myself off with the amused still laughing.
I chuckled a bit and asked, “Either one of you want a bear hug now?”
“Hell, no,” Lee replied for both of them. “You still smell like shit.”
“I guess no good deed ever goes unpunished.” I sighed and finished emptying all the tanks without further incident while Bonnie and Lee returned to getting the interior road-ready. When I had everything stowed from the sewer system, I popped my head in the door and told them that I was going to take a shower.
Guy wanted no part of me when I approached my own door, seeming happy to stay on his rope as far away as it would allow. Before climbing in I disrobed to my briefs, grabbing only my wallet and keys before leaving my clothing in a pile in front of the door. I went straight to the shower and used all of my hot water before I was finished.
I got dressed again in fresh underwear, blue jeans, a blue-and-yellow-striped golf shirt, and a fresh pair of Nike socks, then found an older pair of sneakers to substitute for my soiled pair. I combed my hair while mostly wet, and grabbed a plastic bag to put my dirty clothes in. I picked carefully through my pockets before dumping everything in the bag, then tied it up and tossed it under my rig to be dealt with later.
Bonnie didn’t seem to be ready yet so I took my now congenial black Lab for a walk and he did his business in the back of the woods. We returned and I locked Guy in the motorhome with a treat. I got back to Bonnie’s RV and found she was sitting with Lee discussing plans. “Where you headed?”
Bonnie looked up and replied, “I was already thinking about heading to Charleston, South Carolina. I have a great-grandson there I haven’t seen yet. I do have a couple of patients in Atlanta I can stop and see on the way.”
“That sounds great. Sorry you’re having to cut Nashville short. Have you heard anything about Bobbie and June?”
“As a matter of fact, I talked to June a couple of hours ago. They just got back to the hotel.”
“That might not be a good idea,” I thought out loud. “What if they were still a target?” I went through some options in my mind, then said, “I think I’ll have Jimmy move them somewhere more private.”
“I have a customer who can help,” Lee offered. “He owes me one and he wasn’t any part of Ron-Ron’s deal.”
“No, I don’t want to take that chance. Thanks, though.” I racked my brain to think of a solution. “Bonnie, what about one of your customers? Any of them stable and trustworthy? I can make it worth their while.”
“There’s Bob and Cheryl, who have some extra room in their house. They live in Dickson, about an hour’s drive from here. They are appreciative of the help I’ve provided. I don’t think they would accept money to help. They would just ask the girls to pay it forward.”
“That sounds perfect. Call Bob and …?”
“Cheryl.”
“… Cheryl, then Bobbie and June. If everything works out, then I’ll call Jimmy and give him the scoop.”
Once everything was arranged, Bonnie took me aside and said, “Will you be coming, too, once this is all over?”
“I don’t think so. I need to go my own way for a while. I hope that’s okay with you. You’ve been great.”
She reached out and laid her hand on my arms, which were crossed. “I was afraid you’d say that. ‘No strings,’ we agreed. That doesn’t mean I won’t miss you.”
“I know; me, too.”
She kissed me briefly and I told her to call me when they were settled. She promised she would.
“My turn,” Lee said when Bonnie started back to her motorhome. She came to me wearing an evil grin, hugged and kissed me, then followed Bonnie without a word.
I watched them drive away and felt sad for a moment. I was alone. Then I laughed at myself. “Except for Jimmy.”
Chapter 13
I woke up early, for me, just before 6 am. Guy was still sleeping, and I was a bit envious, since I hadn’t slept well at all. My phone buzzed and I noticed a text message had come in. I picked it up off the bedside shelf and unplugged the power cord, then brought up the message.
“You up?”
It was Jimmy. I texted back, “Yup how did you know?”
“A shot in the dark. All good with your country girls.”
“Good. Calling.” I hated texting, especially with someone I don’t mind talking to. I hit the Call icon.
“Hey, Patty. Long night.”
“Sure was. So Bobbie and June are settled in?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “That couple they’re staying with … very sweet people, very Southern.”
“Good. I’ve been laying here thinkin’ that you shouldn’t be at the hotel either. And, I need to get out of this RV park. At least somebody knows I’m here.”
“Good point. Tell you what, I’ll Uber over to you and pick up breakfast on the way. Breakfast burrito?”
“Sure, I’ll make coffee.”
“See you in a bit.”
I got up and started up the coffee maker, then went in and took a shower — another shower. After the night before, I couldn’t shower enough.
I got dressed and waited for Jimmy without getting on the laptop, phone or anything else. I just sat there quietly thinking. He arrived at about 7:30 am, entering without knocking, but Guy didn’t seem to mind. I guessed he smelled the burritos.
We didn’t talk much while we ate. I finally said, “I think we’ll boondock for a few days.”
“Sounds okay.” He patted the sofa next to where he was sitting and asked, “This thing’s a bed, right?”
“Sure is. I’ve got linens for it somewhere.”
“Any idea where you want to go?”
I thought for a minute and answered, “There are plenty of green spaces around the outskirts of Nashville. Later on I’ll bring up a boondocking app and look for a site.”
Jimmy laughed. I gave him a questioning look and he stopped long enough to say, “Do you hear yourself? You sound like one of those whiz kids in I.T.”
I laughed a little when I thought about it. “You’re right. It does sound funny coming from me. But, when you think about it, it’s really no different than any of those high-tech gadgets we use all the time. A tool is a tool.”
Jimmy nodded, still chuckling to himself.
“It’s not like I’m hacking into the Pentagon.” My thoughts went back to the present situation. “I think we’ll stop at Nashville PD first and meet with Ronin.”
“Good idea.”
I tidied up from breakfast while Jimmy walked Guy.
“All pooped out!” he announced when he returned.
“Hey, I have a bathroom here for you. You didn’t need to use the woods.”
“I meant the dog, asshole.”
If I got him to “asshole” me, it was mission accomplished. I pulled the motorhome out of the site into the main aisle and had Jimmy help hook up the Malibu to the rear bumper. Then he helped guide me out of the resort safely before joining me in the rig. I punched the police station into the navigation screen on the dash and we started off.
On the way to the station, Jimmy called Ronin and we found out the FBI was also joining us. He also found out where we could park our 50 feet of vehicles when we arrived. That turned out to be about a block away in a Publix supermarket parking lot. After parking, I settled Guy in the bedroom and locked it up.
Ronin was waiting in the lobb
y, outside security screening. “The FBI will be here any minute,” he stated nervously.
“Hey, what’s up? Something wrong?”
“Me and the feds don’t always see eye-to-eye. I don’t really like dealing with them.”
“It sucks but is necessary,” Jimmy said. “No one likes dealing with them,” he added, then grabbed my shoulder. “Except this guy. He loves the feds.”
“Very funny.” I decided not to dredge up the past. “Who’s coming?”
“Special Agents Henson and Greco,” a voice answered from behind us, near the door. “You Ronin?” the larger gentleman asked me.
“Nope, Ruger. This is Detective Ronin.”
Ronin shook hands with each of them. Henson was a lighter-skinned African-American of smaller stature looking about 30 years old. He stood in stark contrast to the much bulkier Greco, who perhaps had stepped right out of a Godfather movie. Both had the FBI standard-issue two-piece black suit and white shirt, though they did not have matching ties — Henson’s was a paisley blue pattern and Greco’s was solid brown.
“I’m sorry, gentlemen,” I said before shaking hands. “I need to see your ID’s, if you don’t mind.” They looked at each other incredulously and I added, “Seriously. I’ve been screwed before.”
Each reluctantly showed me their credentials and I looked them over. “Special Agent Thomas Henson and Agent Anthony Greco,” I read aloud before handing them back and finally shaking hands.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Good to be working with you.”
“I’m sure it is,” Greco replied without any hint of sarcasm. “Ronin, we need to meet with your organized crime unit. Are they in this building?”
“Yes, sir, they are,” Ronin answered. “Do they know you’re coming?”
“They’d better — my office called ahead. You guys should be there, too.”
“Well, thanks for the invite!” I was being sarcastic.
“Gentlemen, this way please,” Ronin said and led us to a door to the left of the security checkpoint. He swiped his badge and put his thumb on the glowing green scanner of the electronic lock next to the door and it clicked unlocked. The detective pulled the door open and walked in with us in tow.
