by Mike Faricy
“Why would he be looking for you?”
“Because you made me drive you around, Freddy. He’ll think we’re partners. He’ll think I was in on the whole thing.”
“Can’t you just explain it to him? Tell him it wasn’t your idea.”
“Yeah, that’ll work, gee, now why didn’t I think of that? Explain it to Bulldog? He’s nuts, Freddy, a whacko, I keep telling you. You said it yourself, he’s the one who assaulted you, did that to your face, took black beauty and after he smashed it up trying to kill Casey, he set it on fire.”
“Oh, yeah,” Freddy said suddenly sounding deep in thought. You could see the wheels slowly beginning to turn in his mind. “Think this could be a problem?”
I drove back to my office, climbed out of the truck and Freddy took off. We hadn’t come up with any sort of plan. I quickly came to the conclusion things would work out a lot better for me if I could just get some distance between me and Freddy. I spent the afternoon at the window, looking up and down the street when I wasn’t watching the front door to the building. Bulldog never showed up.
Chapter Forty-One
I spent the next three days looking over my shoulder and sleeping behind the couch in Casey’s front room. I expected Bulldog to arrive at any moment. I hadn’t heard a word from Fat Freddy, and Casey had phoned the last two days wondering when she could come home.
I was convinced it was just a matter of time before Bulldog made a play, but time seemed to be dragging. About the only positive thing that had happened was the contractors had finished, packed up all their tools and were gone.
Now Casey’s home was too nice for the likes of me. The rooms were freshly painted, the light fixtures were wired and actually working, the kitchen cabinet doors were on, granite countertops had replaced the sheets of plywood painted black and the bathroom fixtures were all new and sparkling.
After two more days and four phone calls from Casey, I was starting to dial down. Maybe Bulldog had turned his attention into finding Fat Freddy and those two could just work out whatever the final solution would be.
My phone rang late in the afternoon.
“Haskell Investigations.”
“Dev, Casey.”
I’d already spoken to her twice today. This wasn’t going to be good.
“Promise me you won’t get mad?”
“I don’t know what you’re going to tell me, Casey. So, how can I promise if I don’t know?”
“I want to come home.”
“We’ve had this conversation before, I think the last one was about ninety minutes ago.”
“Don’t get mad, I don’t need that right now.”
“I’m not mad, yet.”
“I’m going crazy down here, it’s been fun and everything, but I need to come home. I’m tired of running, Dev.”
“Running? What do you mean running? From what I can tell you’ve been having a blast, which is more than I can say for some of us up here.”
“I’m going stir crazy.”
“And you’re safe.”
“I don’t care about that, Dev.”
“I do, just hold on for a little longer. If it’s about money, don’t worry I can send you some. How much do you need?”
“It’s not about money, Dev. Right now it’s about my sanity. I need to get back up there.”
“No, Casey.”
“I already booked a flight.”
“What?”
“You heard me, I booked a flight. I’ll be back up there two days from now. I’ll call you from the airport for a ride. Dev?”
“Casey, if you come back up here, I don’t know that I can protect you. The guy I think murdered Dermot is still out there. I’ve no idea where he is or what his plans are. I only know it can’t be good.”
“I don’t care,” she said and meant it.
“And I can’t talk you out of this?”
“No, you can’t.”
“It’s a bad idea, Casey.”
“We’ll see,” she said and hung up.
I went down to The Spot, it had been close to a week since I’d darkened the door. I spent the entire night telling lies and buying most of the rounds. I closed the place and took the back streets home. I pulled into the garage then walked through the backyard to the deck. I was halfway up the steps when I saw the back door. It was partially open and from the looks of the frame, the door had been kicked in. Splinters and bits of the frame lay on the floor of the back room and the area around the lock on the door looked cracked. Whoever did this must have had a pretty heavy boot.
I went back to the garage and got a pistol out of the glove compartment then cautiously returned to the house. I carefully stepped into the back room, quietly pushed the damaged door closed then listened for any telltale noise.
I couldn’t hear anything, but just to play it safe I slipped off my shoes before I quietly started going through, searching the entire first floor room by room in the dark. I didn’t want to turn on a light for fear it would alert any intruder still here.
The odds of some random knucklehead deciding to kick in the door were slim to nonexistent. There was only one name rattling around in my brain, Bulldog. I cautiously crept up the stairs to the second floor then started the process all over again, searching the place room by room in the dark.
The pounding of my heart was getting louder as I worked my way down the hall. The door to the back bedroom was closed. I waited in the hall for a good five minutes, positive Bulldog was in there and just waiting for me.
I finally pushed the door only to find it was closed, firmly. I crouched down and slowly turned the knob, after a long moment the knob clicked and I leapt forward into the room rolling on the floor with my pistol up ready to fire. The adrenaline was rushing through my veins and my entire system was on high alert. Thankfully, the room was empty.
I approached the closet where the cabinet with the secret panel was, the absolute last place in the house to search.
“I’ll give you till the count of five to come out or I’m going to shoot,” I said.
I counted slowly, “One, two.” At three I went in, finger on the trigger ready to fire. The room was empty, I was breathing heavily, sweating and now stone cold sober. I turned on the light.
The drawers were haphazardly thrown off to the side and the panel at the back of the cabinet was wide open. I was willing to bet whoever was here, and my educated guess was Bulldog, was probably in the house for no more than two minutes. He most likely stormed up here, tossed the drawers to the side and then got the disappointment of his life.
I closed the panel, set the drawers back in the cabinet then turned on the lights as I walked back downstairs. I carried an upholstered chair from the front room through the kitchen and wedged it against the back door, then placed a couple of beer bottles against the door so if someone did happen to come back during the night they’d tip over the bottles and hopefully alert me.
I went through the first floor, this time with the lights on. As near as I could determine nothing had been damaged. As I settled in to sleep on the floor behind the couch in the front room I was positive it had been Bulldog, the nagging concern was, now what?
I think I slept for maybe a total of twenty minutes the rest of the night, and not all at once. What was Bulldog’s next move? Would he think the money was stolen by one of the renters while he was serving time? Would he blame Dermot and Casey? The only thing I was sure about was that Bulldog was not the sort of psychopath to just give up.
My thoughts became more positive with the sunrise. I called the contractor first thing that morning and explained the break-in damage to the back door. They were there by midmorning making the necessary repairs. By noon I’d calmed down substantially, although it was a fairly warm day I was wearing a sport coat over my T-shirt to cover the shoulder holster.
The rest of the day was mercifully uneventful and I was back at Casey’s place before dinner. As calm as I thought I was, I did do another search of the house
with my pistol drawn ready to shoot. The only thing I found out of order was a coffee mug one of the contractors had left in the back room.
Chapter Forty-Two
My phone rang about a half hour later. I had my shoes off, feet up on the coffee table, and I was beginning to relax.
“Haskell Investigations.”
“Dev, are you busy?” It was Heidi and she sounded frantic.
“You okay?”
“God, I saw a mouse in the kitchen.”
“You should probably go get some traps at the hardware store.”
“Traps? Can’t you come over here and get him.”
“Maybe he’ll just go away.”
“Dev!”
“Okay, okay, just relax.”
“Relax? Are you kidding? You know what they say if you see one you’ve got a hundred or something.”
“I don’t think you have a hundred. What could they live on? You never cook.”
“Could you please just come over, please, please? I promise I will be very grateful.” she said.
That last part sounded pretty good. “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
“Don’t take any longer, the thing could be breeding right now. And bring your gun, maybe two guns.”
I took my time. I showered, shaved, brushed my teeth, put on some clean clothes and picked up a bottle of wine at Solo Vino. Then I went to the hardware store and got some traps and poison. When I pulled up in front of her house, Heidi was sitting out on her front steps. She almost ran to the car.
“What took you so long?”
“I’m sorry, I was in the middle of something when you called.”
“Probably a beer.”
“You want this taken care of? Or, are you just going to bitch me out?”
“God, I’m afraid to go back into my own house. He ran right along the kitchen wall, the little bastard.”
“The thing is about this big,” I made a two inch gap between my thumb and forefinger.”
“Just get him out of there.”
“Here, I brought you a bottle of wine,” I said and handed her the bottle.
“Believe me this isn’t enough,” she said. “What’s in the bag?”
“Some traps and poison and…”
“I don’t want you to catch him, I want the thing killed and out of my house, isn’t that what you do for a living?”
“No, not exactly. I tell you what, why don’t you go pick up some dinner, here’s some cash,” I said and pulled out two twenties from my front pocket. “I’ll deal with this.”
“Okay, my car keys are on the kitchen counter, I think.”
I gave her a look.
“I’m not going back in there, Dev.”
“All right, let me get them for you, princess.”
I got her car keys and handed them to her out in the front yard. “Did you see him?”
“Yeah, he told me his name was Mickey.”
“This isn’t funny, Dev,” she said and hit me on the shoulder, then suddenly she looked like she was on the verge of crying.
“I’ll deal with it, Heidi. You go pick up some dinner and take your time.”
She nodded and half ran to her car. I retreated to her kitchen. As usual there was virtually no food in the house except for some crackers and rice cakes in a cupboard above the stove. Everything else was in a can. There were two take out Styrofoam containers in the refrigerator which I didn’t have the courage to open and a bottle of mineral water. I found a jar of peanut butter in another cupboard. I baited the traps with peanut butter and some of the puffed rice cake. I figured he’d either get caught in the trap or once he saw what there was food-wise he would just take off and go to another house.
Heidi returned a good hour later. She rang the doorbell.
“Oh it’s you,” I said when I opened the door.
“Did you get him?” she whined.
“Yes,” I lied.
She opened the door, gave me a big kiss and suddenly seemed her old sexy self. “I got a bunch of take out and some more wine,” she said and walked into the kitchen.
I followed.
“Did you shoot him?”
“No, I set one of the traps and he just threw himself onto it, sort of a suicide thing I guess.”
“You did get him, right?”
“Yes, he’s out in your trash bin. I set some traps under your sink just in case there might be another one, but I didn’t see any signs.”
“Oh, God, I hope not. I don’t know if I could deal with another one.”
“Hopefully you won’t have to, what’s for dinner?”
“There’s this great little Thai place I just love so we can eat healthy and it will taste good, too.”
I must have made a face at the word healthy.
“I think you can miss out on pizza just one night and you’ll live.”
Chapter Forty-Three
We were working our way through the second bottle of wine, Heidi was laughing, feeling no pain and completely relaxed. I wasn’t far behind her and after the past couple of days it was feeling pretty good.
It was one of those pregnant pause moments. We’d been joking and laughing and then we were suddenly quiet for the briefest of seconds at exactly the same time. The unmistakable sound of a mouse trap snapping reverberated through the kitchen like a howitzer going off. Then we heard high pitched squeaking coming from under the kitchen sink.
Heidi looked at me, whined, “Dev” and jumped off her kitchen stool and onto the kitchen counter, kicking over the wine bottle in the process. “Dev, do something, damn it.”
The squeaking continued and occasionally something rattled from under the sink. My first thought was to just shoot through the cabinet door.
“God, Dev, don’t just stand there stupid, do something. I think he’s trying to open the door.”
“I was going to clean up the wine you spilled.”
“Leave that. Oh my God, listen to that thing. Do you think he’s hurt?” she said and then her eyes began to tear up.
I didn’t want to open up the cabinet door, but I was running out of options when all of a sudden the squeaking stopped.
“Oh God, now what?” Heidi half screamed, she was still on top of the kitchen counter with her legs drawn up and her arms wrapped around them. Her face was buried between her knees.
“I think I better open another bottle of wine.”
“Don’t you dare, not until you deal with that,” she said and pointed beneath her kitchen sink.
“All right, all right,” I said then took a deep breath and cautiously opened the cabinet expecting to see a dead mouse. Instead the thing jumped onto the kitchen floor dragging the trap behind him.
Heidi shrieked.
The thing startled me and I went to stomp him with my foot. It must have been the wine because I missed and just caught the trap. The pressure was enough to cut his tail off and the little bastard shot across the kitchen floor, minus his tail and dripping blood along the way.
“Oh my God,” Heidi screamed.
He was at the kitchen door trying desperately to squeeze underneath and getting stopped by the riser on the floor.
Heidi continued screeching.
I grabbed the wine bottle off the floor and backhanded it at him. The bottle caught him just as he rose up on his hind legs. He splattered in a bloody mess against her white enamel kitchen door.
“Oh God, I can’t look, I can’t look. Clean it up, Dev. Get rid of it, please, I’ll do anything, just get it out of my house.”
I grabbed a handful of paper towels and wiped up what was left of the mouse, then picked up the trap and opened the drawer with the wastebasket. I dropped everything in the wastebasket then pulled the trash bag out, knotted it and marched out to her trash bin.
Heidi was still on the kitchen counter when I came back in. I wet some more paper towels, cleaned up the little trail of blood running across her kitchen tiles then wiped the door clean. I sprayed some Windex on the door f
or added measure and wiped that off.
“I’ll be back in a moment, I expect you to be off the counter and sitting on the kitchen stool by the time I return.”
She stuck her tongue out at me, but didn’t say anything.
By the time I came back in the kitchen, she was on the stool, but she was sitting cross legged making sure her feet were nowhere near the floor.
“How would it be if I opened another bottle of wine and we can put this all behind us? Maybe you’d feel more comfortable in your living room.” I said. I was on my hands and knees, mopping up wine from the kitchen floor with a sponge.
“I’ll wait for you out there,” she said and quickly exited the room. She was back to happy a glass of wine later.
We both slept in late the next morning, but only because we were up a good portion of the night paying and collecting the debt. Just in case any little visitors might still be lingering, I banged around the kitchen while I put the coffee on the next morning, then I went out and picked up caramel rolls and we enjoyed a leisurely breakfast.
Chapter Forty-Four
I didn’t make it into the office until well past the noon hour. I’d gone home to get cleaned up then swung by Casey’s just to check on things. Everything looked fine, both the front and back door were in one piece. I was still worried about her coming back to town tomorrow, but there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I could only hope Bulldog assumed one of the low-life renters he’d brought in had gotten their hands on the money and disappeared.
I thought it might not be a bad idea to check in on Swindle Lawless, aka Cougar to see if Bulldog had tried to shake her down. If she was the main attraction at Nasty’s for the after-work-banker crowd I figured she probably arrived an hour before, right around four. I was in the parking lot waiting for her.
She drove in about fifteen minutes before she was due to go on stage. I might have missed her, in fact I was ready to take off after sitting in the parking lot for the better part of an hour waiting for her to show up. At first I thought it was a motorcycle with rumbling pipes, then I saw the Lincoln with the cracked windshield, buckled hood and the trunk held down with an elastic cord.
