by Mike Faricy
I walked a straight line back from the rear of the Camaro and out to the street, watching for any sign of a door opening or one of the windows lowering. By the time I got back to Morton and my car, the camper with Natasha and Princess Anastasia was gone. I drove away and parked in a lot overlooking Lake Phelan. I put Morton on a leash, grabbed the Frisbee and a knife out of the glove compartment then walked back a quarter mile and sat on a park bench where I watched the Camaro at a safe distance.
Eventually the driver’s door was shouldered open and none other than Fat Bastard cautiously looked around before oozing out the door and into the mud. Even from this distance I could see the black eyes and the gauze across his forehead. He gave a quick waddle around the vehicle, stared at the back tire I’d shot then kicked the Camaro in the rear quarter panel, growled something foul before he retraced his rutted, muddy trail out of the field and toddled out of the park leaving a trail of muddy footprints.
I waited a good while before I headed over to the Camaro. I tossed the Frisbee to Morton a number of times along the way so we just looked like casual investigators. When we came alongside the car I crouched down and pretended to inspect the car from all sides, slitting the other three tires in the process.
I suppose I could have phoned 911, but that might have led to some uncomfortable questions about discharging a firearm in a city park. Besides, I figured by now the car had quite possibly been reported as stolen, so what would be the point?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I tossed the Frisbee back in the direction of my car and in twenty minutes we were headed home. On the way home Morton and I swung past the scene of Heidi’s particular crime, Alexi’s hair salon located on Grand Ave, a trendy retail street in town. The place was one of a series of single-story storefronts with two large windows on either side of the entrance. The name ‘Head Case’ in bright red letters was painted across the front of the building in a strange sort of script that looked like a five-year old might have written it. It seemed fitting that this was the place where Heidi’s hair became multi colored and a portion of her head shaved.
I pulled into a parking place a couple of doors down and walked back to the salon. Looking through the windows it appeared there were three chairs, but only two were occupied.
A blonde woman was working on a customer in the middle chair, busily wrapping a handful of hair in tin foil. The woman in the chair had at least a dozen foil horns arranged around her skull.
“Can I help you?” A bubbly teenager asked from behind a counter as I walked in. The counter was actually a display case with pink lighting and black shelves. A variety of hair care products, presumably for sale, were arranged inside the display case.
The kid looked to be about sixteen and had close to a pound of various metal items imbedded around each ear. Her left eyebrow had three rings running through it. My first thought was “What a strange place for a cigarette holder.” A large blue bead hung from her bottom lip and matched the two smaller blue beads hanging from her nose ring. As she talked a silver ball running through her tongue clicked against her teeth and made it sound like she was tapping her toe in cadence to her speech.
I was tempted to ask if she had trouble going through airport security, instead I said, “I was wondering if I could get a haircut?”
“I suppose you can, and there’s no one waiting if you want to just take this chair, I’ll let Alexi know you’re here,” she said, indicating the open chair with her hand.
I glanced over at a guy reading the newspaper who hadn’t bothered to look up at me. He didn’t look like a good fit to the woman with the tin foil horns and I didn’t think he was Alexi.
“Oh, don’t worry, I guess he’s just reading. It’s actually my first day,” the metal encrusted teen said.
Once I sat down she stepped through a door in the rear of the salon. The guy behind the newspaper continued to read. The woman with the tinfoil horns didn’t look all that happy to have me sitting in the chair next to her. I settled into the chair, smiled and waited.
The chair closest to the window was filled to overflowing with a woman who was focused on a magazine with some sort of drying apparatus covering her head and loudly blowing air. I had the distinct feeling that all conversation had stopped once I came in the door.
Alexi stepped out of the rear area about five minutes later. He was about my size, sporting a neatly trimmed four-day beard with his blonde hair parted on both sides and then combed toward the center of his head. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him. He had a small, red scar, sort of ‘S’ shaped just at the edge of his left eye,
“How can I help you?”
“I wanted a haircut?”
“A haircut,” he said studying me. I felt like a Volkswagen Beetle getting the once over from a sports car enthusiast.
“Just a haircut?”
“Yeah, just a haircut.”
“Well, you see we don’t really do that sort of thing here. If you wanted to adjust your color, maybe become a little more current with your style, we could help. But just a haircut, no sorry, like I said we don’t do that sort of thing here.”
“You got a card. I might want to come back and have the color changed.”
“Sure,” he said and stepped over to the counter.
By the time I climbed out of the chair and followed he was holding his card out with a smile, I read the name on his card, Alexi Tarasenko. It rang a distant bell, I knew there was something, but still couldn’t quite place him.
“Thanks for your time, I’ll maybe be back if I need a color change.”
“Sure thing, you might try the barber shop up about four blocks, they do a nice job and it won’t cost you so much.”
“Okay,” I said and stuffed his card into my pocket.
As I walked back to my car I was more positive than ever that I knew Alexi from somewhere in the distant past. I picked up some tacos for dinner, missed the call from Maddie and was waiting for Natasha to return the phone calls I’d made to her.
Chapter Thirty
We were in the den watching the Big Lebowski. Morton and I, eating Bar-B-Que potato chips and sharing a beer. The movie was right at the part where the Dude was being hustled into the back of Mr. Lebowski’s limousine, “Hey, careful man, there’s a beverage here.” When my phone rang.
“Haskell Invest….”
“Did you get him?”
“Hi, Natasha. Are you all right?” I tossed a couple more chips down to Morton on the floor. He caught one in midair and lapped up the other on the first bounce before looking up at me expectantly.
“Just tell me you executed that malcontent.”
“Um, actually no, sorry to disappoint.”
“Why in heaven’s name not?”
“Murder charges for one. I seem to have an aversion to them. He did have to leave his car out there in the middle of that field stuck in the mud. Most likely the police have impounded it by now. Where are you by the way?”
“We’re at the airport.”
“The airport, you’re leaving town?”
“No, we’re just spending the night in the parking ramp, up on the top level. There are regular patrols through here and I have to believe this is the absolute last place anyone would think of looking for us.”
“Do you want me to come out there?”
There was a long pause before she said, “No, we’ll be fine, but thank you.”
“I would suggest that if you’re going to work Princess Anastasia tomorrow you….”
“I most certainly am, I intend to win at Blessington and nothing, not even that homicidal maniac this afternoon will deter me in my quest.”
“Okay, I get that, but maybe pick someplace they won’t think of looking. My sense would be somewhere you’ve never been. For that matter we could report this to the police, file a complaint. If nothing else it might make things a little more difficult for the owner of that Camaro.”
“Don’t you worry, I fully intend to deal with
him.”
“Deal with him? You know who the hell it is?”
“Yes, that fool Denis Malloy, that’s Denis, D-E-N-I-S, spelled like penis only with a ‘D’ and lacking all of the more intriguing characteristics.”
“You know this guy?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll phone you with our whereabouts tomorrow.”
“Wait Natasha, Natasha,” I said, but she’d already hung up.
I tried to phone her back a couple of times, but she didn’t answer.
Heidi phoned about five minutes after I got off the phone with Natasha.
“Did you get the image I sent you?”
“Image? Are you back to taking selfies again?”
“You wish. No, from my investors meeting today, after it was over I had my picture taken with some of the bigger investors.”
“So, it went well, the meeting?”
“Better than I could have hoped for, but I really appreciated the advice about taking a more positive attitude, it made all the difference in my meeting. In fact, I got a number of compliments. And, from people who usually aren’t in the business of giving compliments.”
“I’m glad to be of service.”
“One guy, very successful, in fact he was my biggest worry because he can be so temperamental and difficult to deal with even at the best of times, he sort of took center stage and convinced a number of the others that the investment we were looking at, the one that had under performed was really under valued which presented an even better opportunity. Then he ponied up on the spot for another five thousand shares. Just like that, and he talked a couple of others into doing the same thing. I ended up having a very successful day. So thanks, I intend to make it up to you.”
“Maybe you should leave your thong at home more often.”
“That wasn’t it, you sleaze ball. It was the investment potential I presented to them.”
“How does it sound if I come over tonight? I could bring your makeup case and the other stuff and you could explain some of your investment potential.”
“Yeah, sure, that’s what you’d be coming over for, investment potential.”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“I’m making sure my doors are locked right now. Anyway, thanks for being there and sorry if I was crabby.”
“You weren’t crabby,” I said, but she had already hung up.
I checked my cell, sure enough there was a text message from Heidi. I don’t like texting, I’m not a fan of text messages. I clicked on the message anyway, there were just two words, sort of, “Gr8 mtg” and an image.
I clicked on the image then waited while it slowly came up on my cell. Heidi, in what looked like a large conference room with maybe a dozen guys. My first thought was none of them had the slightest idea she wasn’t wearing a thong. She looked gorgeous despite the bizarre hair colors. I quickly glanced at their faces then paused on the one guy who looked familiar.
His dark hair was slicked back, he had a goatee, wore an open collar shirt with an expensive looking jacket. I could see a gold chain just peeking out from beneath the right cuff on his shirt. I phoned Heidi back.
“Did I not make myself clear? I don’t want you coming over tonight,” she answered.
“Hey, just checking your photo out. Everyone looks happy. Let me ask you a question. The guy on the far end of the group, with the goatee, is that Tommy Allesi?”
“How do you know him?”
“Chance meeting. You ever hear of a guy named Denis Malloy?”
“No, I don’t think so?”
“So tell me about Tommy.”
“He’s the investor I mentioned who purchased another five-thousand shares and got some others to do the same. To tell you the truth he saved the day. Wow, who knew, small world, isn’t it?”
“Very small. Actually, it’s more like I know of him, I’ve only met him once or twice, but I’ve never really been formally introduced.”
“I might be able to arrange that.”
“What, an introduction?”
“Mmm-hum, he gave me a couple of tickets to some sort of private recital he’s giving, day after tomorrow. I guess he’s really into classical music and he plays the piano. Interested?”
“Very, I’m your date and then we could discuss your payment plan on that debt you owe.”
“We could,” she said and hung up.
Chapter Thirty-One
Natasha phoned just a little after nine the following morning.
“Mr. Haskell, we’re just about to head out to Hidden Falls Regional Park, do you know where that is?”
“I do. And you’re sure your friend Denis won’t be looking for you there?”
“I’ve no idea if he’ll be looking for us there. I do know it would not make the least bit of sense if he did. I haven’t set foot in that area for at least twenty-five years. I think the last time I was there was to protest the Gulf War and Princess Anastasia has never been there.”
“Okay, sounds good. How was sleeping at the airport?”
“Sleeping was fair, at least up until about five-fifteen this morning when it seemed a plane was either landing or taking off every three-and-a-half minutes. Every time they flew over it sounded for all the world as if they were no more than six inches overhead. At that point it began to grow rather tiresome.”
“I can only imagine. Listen, I’ll head over to Hidden Falls and meet you there. Would you mind remaining in the camper until I arrive and look things over, just to be on the safe side? Shouldn’t take more than a minute or two, I’ll knock on your door as soon as I’m finished.”
“We’ll await your arrival, but please arrive in a timely manner. We’ve a good deal of work to accomplish today.”
“I’m heading out the door as we speak,” I said.
Natasha hung up and I wandered upstairs to find my jeans. I pulled a sweatshirt on, stuffed the Sig Sauer in the small of my back and grabbed my jacket off the hook in the hallway.
The moment Morton saw me reaching for my jacket he began prancing at the kitchen door. “Calm down, pal, we’re going. Come on, let’s get in the car.”
We were only about a fifteen minute drive away, that was if we hit all the stop lights. We made it through all but two of them. Natasha’s camper was waiting for us in the parking lot by the time we arrived.
Hidden Falls Regional Park features a small water fall a few hundred yards from the banks of the Mississippi river. The park has a paved parking lot and paths, cut grass, permanent picnic tables, fire pits, and two large, open areas with roofs overhead to protect from the rain or sun. You have to drive through a gated entrance and down along the side of a bluff to enter the parking lot.
Natasha’s camper and my car were the only two vehicles in the park this morning. I made a quick sweep of the area then pulled alongside the camper and knocked on the door.
“Coming, Mr. Haskell,” Natasha called in response and then opened the camper door a moment later. I noticed her exit seemed to be just a little slower this morning and as if in response she said, “Oh, I’m getting to old to be sleeping in this camper for a week.”
She proceeded to go through a stretching routine where I occasionally could hear her knees, hips, spine and shoulders snap and pop. I knew the feeling. Princess Anastasia sat off to the side looking straight ahead.
When she appeared to have completed her stretching I said, “Your friend, Denis Malloy what can you tell me about him?”
“Tell you, about Denis? There really isn’t all that much to him actually, other than his girth, well and constant disappointment. Poor man has to be a heart attack just waiting to happen, don’t you think?” she said, but didn’t wait for an answer.
“I’ve known him since my early school days I daresay he was a few years behind me. His Father and Grandfather did rather well. I think one of his grandfathers was a district judge of some sort. I’m afraid the poor devil never quite seemed to cop on, as they say. Unfortunately, I think the way in which the wo
rld works has always remained a bit of a mystery to Denis.”
“You’d never guess to look at the man today, I mean, well he’s simply dreadful, appalling. But, there was a time when he was quite the man about town. Of course he took up with one of the Mieze girls, which never served anyone well. I believe her name was Chastity, talk about a misnomer. Poor Denis never really seemed to recover once she ran off with some sort of rock and roll character.”
“What does he do?”
“Do? I don’t think Denis does anything, now that you mention it, I don’t believe he ever has.”
“How does he pay bills? He apparently has enough money for a nice car.”
“I think the family found their initial success in the dry goods business, from there on to only God knows what. They’ve always been connected so the term “business” can cover a multitude of sins. And, well I suppose we saw the result of that yesterday. Frightening, actually.”
She began doing jumping jacks at this point, counting out a sort of cadence half to herself. When she stopped she stretched her arms out and began to rotate them first clockwise and then counter clockwise. Then she bent down at the hip extending her arms toward the toes of her shoes, bending up and down, each time extending down maybe an inch further toward the ground.
“You should try this, Mr. Haskell, an excellent way to start ones day.”
“I have my own routine that I work on.”
“Yes, I’m sure you do,” she said looking like she was biting her tongue on the remainder of her comment.
“Well, there we have it. As to your questions about Denis, I wouldn’t concern yourself. Success, in whatever the undertaking, has always seemed to elude Denis. I would simply add yesterday’s episode to a long list of failures. No use crying over spilt milk, as they say. Let’s just be thankful we were dealing with an individual who is that inept. Come on Princess,” she said, then clapped her hand and Princess Anastasia dutifully rose and followed without looking left or right.
