by Mike Faricy
By the time I sat down, Luscious was cramming half of a Big Mac into his mouth and reaching for one of the strawberry shakes. I knew better than to get between him and food and there was certainly no point in attempting conversation. So, we sat there in relative silence while I finished my cheeseburger. Then I stretched out on my side of the booth, sipped my coke and people watched. After thirty minutes, Luscious had cleared off two entire trays and was beginning to work his way through the desserts, washing them down with strawberry shake.
“How is it, good?” I asked.
A man focused on the mission at hand, he simply nodded and continued eating. At about the fifty-minute mark he pushed the final, empty tray off to the side, tilted his head back, closed his eyes and let out a very loud and long belch. The air suddenly smelled of strawberry shake and French fries. The couple across the aisle from us immediately got up and walked swiftly out the door.
“Luscious, you still have that final strawberry shake left. Hope you’re not going to let that go to waste.”
“No, sir, I’m saving that for the drive back to that rental place.”
It served me right for asking and I didn’t dare ask if he wanted anything else. “You ready to head out?”
“I think it’s time,” he said like we had both been waiting for me to finish some task, then he cupped the shake in a massive paw and groaned as he got to his feet. Our table was awash in wrappers and just about every head in the place watched us as we walked toward the door.
“Good-bye, thanks for choosing McDonald’s,” the woman who had waited on us called as Luscious oozed out the side door.
“You follow me, okay, Luscious? I’m going to pull onto that street behind the rental place and we’ll switch drivers again so it looks like I drove the truck this afternoon, got it?”
Luscious sucked down about an inch of strawberry shake and nodded, then climbed behind the wheel of the pickup. The thing leaned far enough to the left that it looked like the shocks were broken on that side.
It’s not a busy street running past McDonald’s, but we had to wait for a couple of cars to pass, we made a right out of the parking lot and then about fifty feet down the road I made a sharp left. Unfortunately, Luscious did not. Focused on his strawberry shake, he missed the turn, then to make matters worse he apparently mistook the accelerator for the brake pedal and floored the pickup about fifteen feet before hitting a tree.
The hood buckled, the front bumper was dented and the grill was hanging in two pieces. If I had to guess I’d say there was about three to four grand worth of damage to the truck. Luscious stepped out with a guilty look on his face, at least I thought he looked guilty. It was hard to tell with strawberry shake dripping down his chin.
“What the hell happened?”
“I think a strawberry got stuck in my straw.”
“A what? Luscious, there aren’t any strawberries in those shakes, it just strawberry flavored. Didn’t you see the tree?” Which, I knew was a stupid question before I finished asking it. I remembered the guy at the rental place saying, ‘You want our rider insurance? Forty-five bucks, don’t mind me saying it might not be a bad idea.’
It took the better part of an hour to fill out the accident report at the rental place. We’d called the police on the way over, but they’re stretched so thin in our town that unless there’s someone injured, they don’t have the manpower to dispatch someone. They took my name and address and said they’d mail out an accident form for insurance purposes then gave me a website address if I wanted to download the form myself.
The two guys at the rental place were still sipping coffee and acted like they weren’t all that surprised. “But you were driving, is that correct, Mr. Haskell?” It was the fourth time they’d asked me.
“Yeah, I told you before, it was either the tree or hit some senior citizen on a motorized wheelchair. I didn’t have any choice, isn’t that right, Luscious?”
“Just like he said,” Luscious replied not taking his eyes off his feet.
The rental guy looked at the two of us for a long moment then decided there wasn’t anything he could do to improve the situation. “Okay, we’ll be in touch. Have a nice day,” he said, flashed a smile for a nanosecond and sent us on our way.
I took the scenic route along the river as I drove Luscious home then stopped in front of the steps to his building. “Luscious, it’s been real, thanks again for your help. I’ll have a check in the mail to you tomorrow if that’s okay.” I was turned partially around, talking to him stretched out in the back seat.
“Be fine with me, Mr. Dev. Real sorry bout that little bump and spilling that shake and all,” he said sounding genuinely apologetic.
“Not a problem, based on what we did today, I’d say we got off easy.”
That brought a smile to his face and then my car rocked back and forth as he climbed out of the back seat. “Be seeing you now, you need my help again you just call me, Mr. Dev.” Then he stood on the curb and waved as I drove off.
Chapter Forty-Nine
My phone rang as I was pulling into my driveway.
“Haskell Investigations.”
“I hear congratulations are in order.” It was Aaron LaZelle.
“Yeah, things worked out pretty well, for a change. I recovered those coffins and my hunch paid off for Dondavitch,”
“Apparently there were some unhappy campers on the scene.”
“You mean the sisters?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, hopefully this will shake them up and they’ll fly right. The good detective seemed to think they’ll get off with probation, their brother probably won’t be quite so lucky.”
“It always amazes me how many times people get caught and they still think they can get away with shit. That kid will be north of forty years old before he sees the light of day.”
“Yeah, the sad thing is he’s actually a pretty nice guy if he would just get his act together, but he just never seems to do that.”
“Some guys never do. Anyway, just wanted to say thanks. You still owe me dinner, by the way.”
“Just let me know when you’re free.”
“You’re safe for the foreseeable future.”
I’d barely hung up when my phone rang again.
“Hello, Dev? It’s Gemma, can you talk?”
I was parked in my driveway. “Yeah, Gemma, go ahead.”
“Royal has another board meeting tonight. It’s at the Venture Inn out on 694.”
“He told you where it’s at? Doesn’t that suggest it might be legit?”
“Actually, he didn’t tell me. I’ve gotten in the habit of checking the calendar on his home computer, it’s linked to the business. He’s nothing if not thorough, he even had the confirmation number and the name of the hotel listed for tonight.”
“Did you get his ‘I’m going to be late’ call yet?”
“No, those usually don’t come through for another couple of hours. But I thought I’d give you a call, maybe give you a little more time.”
I was writing down the hotel name, I knew approximately where it was, but I’d never been in the place. “Can you print off that calendar without his knowledge?”
“I can do just about anything I want without Royal’s knowledge,” she said and let that statement just sort of hang out there for a moment. “Besides, I was a pretty good programmer at one time in my life.”
“One more unfortunate piece of the puzzle, if you could go back and print off his calendar for say the past six months to a year, it wouldn’t necessarily be the smoking gun, but it would help to build your case.”
“Actually, I’ve already done that, and for exactly that reason. I went through the last year and I have to say I’ve been pretty stupid, real stupid as a matter of fact. God, I could just scream.”
Gemma was beginning to make me think she wasn’t quite the helpless soul I’d first thought.
Chapter Fifty
The Venture Inn looks just like what it
is, an eight-story brick hotel set on the edge of a busy freeway with fairly convenient access to the airport and both downtowns. A half dozen chain restaurants and three gas stations were within sight of the entrance to the place.
I was in the parking lot, two rows back from the front door when Royal finally showed up. I’d been sitting in my car for almost an hour. I took a couple of pictures of him getting out of his car and walking inside. His luggage consisted of what looked like two bottles of Champagne.
Ashley and dunderhead Tony arrived almost an hour after Royal. She was dressed in an appropriately hot looking skirt with a different sequined belt, a top that appeared to be open almost down to her navel and the same knee-high black boots with stiletto heels. Tony was in jeans and a T-shirt that looked like they should have been thrown in the wash early last week.
I waited about five minutes, then entered the hotel. The bar was just across the lobby from the front desk. I could see Tony in there nursing a beer and already filling a plastic basket with losing pull tabs, fortunately his back was to me.
I approached the front desk with a smiling guy standing behind it. He looked to be about mid forties with slightly graying temples and brown frame glasses. He wore a starched blue shirt with a navy blue blazer and a conservative tie, apparently the uniform for front desk staff.
“Hi, welcome to the Venture Inn, how can I help you?”
“I’m supposed to meet up with a business associate, here. Can you direct me to his room? Royal Baker is his name.”
“Let me get that information for you,” he said and clicked half-a-dozen keys on the laptop in front of him. I figured I’d knock on the door then maybe grab a photo of Royal and Ashley, hopefully while she was just wearing a smile.
“Sure, here it is, you can reach him on this extension,” he said then wrote the extension number down on a hotel business card. It was the same drill I’d received the last time I was tracking Royal on one of his trysts and I guessed it was a standard hotel routine. I smiled and took the card.
“There’s a house phone right over there,” he nodded to a counter attached to the wall on the far side of the lobby. The phone was next to a little stand filled with a variety of tourist brochures. I was about to say thanks when a voice behind me yelled out. “Haskell?”
I turned to see Tony coming out of the bar. He had a wide-eyed look on his face as he stopped and just stood there staring at me.
I wasn’t sure which of us was more surprised and decided to play the part. “Tony? What are you doing here?”
I thought I might have caught him off guard because he sort of stuttered. “Oh, yeah, I got a call and I was just driving past and thought this looked like a nice joint so I decided to go in and grab a beer.”
God, he wasn’t even a good liar. I noticed the fingertips on both his hands were still red, just like Tommy Flaherty’s face and hands had been. Unfortunately, he’d apparently recovered enough not to have his arm still in the sling.
“How’s Ashley doing? Is she working tonight?” I asked, and raised my eyebrows.
“Ash? Oh, no, not here tonight. But, she’s doing pretty well, you know with work and everything. Course all those online problems she was having, I think I got that nailed down.”
“You ever find out who that was?”
“Hey, Haskell, if you’re lookin’ to scam more business you can just forget it. Like I said, I already did my own investigation and I got a pretty good idea. Went back and reviewed some things, checked out those images that had been posted, the dates they were posted. Once I did that, the pattern became pretty obvious, and it didn’t cost an arm and a leg, either. ”
“Oh good, so you know who did it?”
“Like I said, I got a pretty good idea.”
In other words he didn’t have a clue.
“That’s good, Tony, real good. How about you let me buy you a beer? You can tell me all about your investigative technique, how you did it and we can celebrate the fact that you don’t need your arm in a sling anymore. You know, from when that little guy kicked your ass the other day.”
“Actually, much as I’d like to have you buy, I gotta meet someone in the lobby here in a while.”
“Ashley?”
“No, she ain’t here, it’s someone else, they’re delivering a package.”
“Delivering a package? To you? I thought you said you just ducked in for a beer?”
“Yeah, I did, but then Royal sent me a text message, said to run interference and get this package. You know, since I’m already here they can run it over to me.”
“Then you’ll run it up to Royal’s room?”
“Yeah, he wants to get it right…no not up to Royal’s room. I told you, he ain’t even here. I don’t know where the hell he is, home or somewhere. I’m gonna deliver it to him later tonight, probably at his house, that is once I get the thing.”
“Too bad he’s not here it would save you some time.”
“I don’t mind. I better get going, that delivery probably will be here any minute, then I’ll be taking off,” he said and sort of took a few steps in the direction of the men’s room.
“Always a pleasure, Tony.”
He nodded, suggesting the opportunity to talk with him was just that, a pleasure.
Chapter Fifty-One
Tony’s bullshit about having a package delivered to him was laughable and suggested a host of other issues. If I had to guess, I’d say he was a lot more uncomfortable with Ashley’s line of work than he was letting on, especially if one of her top customers was the same guy who was making it all possible. I retreated back to the sanity of the front seat of my car, turned on the radio and waited for Royal and Ashley to reappear in the hope I might get to photograph a good-bye kiss or some other, equally stupid move.
It was maybe an hour later when I saw an older woman entering the hotel lobby carrying what looked like a white bakery box. Her hair was a non-descript brown and cut in a short sort of bob, she wore expensive casual clothes. Maybe twenty minutes after that I was in the midst of switching radio stations again when it happened; there was a sort of rumble, but too loud to be a car and it seemed to come from above. As I looked up I saw the windows of a room blowing off the side of the building four or five floors up and disintegrating in mid-air.
Almost immediately there was the sound of a bell ringing, like an alarm bell although not too loud. As I climbed out of my car bits and pieces of debris and dust were drifting down to the ground. I just stood there staring up at the hole in the side of the building. The parking lot began filling up with crazed guests and hotel staff rushing out of the front door.
Some guy in jeans and a T-shirt was directing people further and further away from the building and no one seemed to be in the frame of mind to give him an argument. As people hurried across the parking lot, what was left of the drapes fluttered out the charred remains of the window and a set of Venetian blinds hung by a long cord and dangled down to the floor below.
More and more people exited the building, some came to stand below the hole in the side of the building and just stare upwards, but the majority of people moved away from the building and stood behind me on the far side of the parking lot. Guys in business suits, what looked like kitchen staff in white coats and checkered pants, a couple of waitresses wearing aprons, the guy from behind the front desk and some kids in swim suits all lined up on the edge of the parking lot.
After a few minutes you could hear the sound of sirens growing closer and just moments later, first one and then two fire trucks raced in and parked in front of the main entry with their lights flashing. Two more rigs arrived after that, firemen in helmets and heavy equipment climbed off the vehicles and moved inside the building, not wasting any time.
Two squad cars arrived at about the same time. The officers began to move everyone out of the parking lot, myself included. I ended up standing next to three little boys in swimsuits with their mom holding an empty wine glass. I scanned the crowd back and fort
h looking for Tony, Ashley and Royal, but couldn’t see them.
Another fire truck arrived along with the paramedics. A couple of people were in the crowd with their luggage. First one and then two more news vehicles arrived, but the police wouldn’t let them into the parking lot. None of us were allowed to go to our cars so all we could do was just stand there and watch, not that there was anything left to see.
A couple of firemen appeared briefly in the room where the explosion had occurred and sort of gazed out of the charred hole in the wall. I don’t know if they were looking to see if someone was hanging onto the side of the building or if they just wanted to see how high up they were. Behind them you could see what looked like the remains of a table lamp and a framed painting or print hanging sideways on the wall.
It was much later that night before they began letting people back into the building, and then only registered guests to get their luggage. People were streaming out of the building rolling suitcases behind them and heading for their cars. The police were checking everyone off a list before they were allowed to drive away, presumably to look for another place to stay. I had to wait another hour and a half before I was able to get in my car and drive home.
I drove back past the place the following morning, there were still maybe a dozen cars in the hotel lot. Four or five of the cars were parked just below the site of the explosion and appeared to be too damaged from falling debris to be driven. There were a couple of squad cars and two fire department vehicles near the front door and then off to the side and well away from the blast area. Royal’s car was parked exactly where I’d seen him pull in last night. About thirty yards from Royal’s car, Tony’s car sat looking abandoned in the all but empty parking lot. I slowed, but didn’t stop and headed to my office.
