Mob Lawyer 2: A Legal Thriller

by Dave Daren

  “But no one you’ve become close to,” I mused.

  She shook her head, and it was her turn to study me. I’m not sure what she saw besides dark curls that I hadn’t done much with this morning and the bristles I hadn’t had time to shave, but she smiled anyway and rested her chin on the back of her hand.

  “Who is it you want to ask about?” she asked.

  “Everyone, anyone,” I sighed. “Everytime I think I’ve sorted everyone out, the picture changes again.”

  “But isn’t that always true?” she asked.

  “Maybe,” I said. “But there’s usually some constants.”

  “Maybe,” she said doubtfully.

  “What about the Sheriff?” I asked. “You said he meets with one of the leaders.”

  Lila looked terrified for a moment, and she looked around the diner as if she expected Tater Harris himself to leap out from behind a potted plant and place her under arrest.

  “I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “But I don’t think anyone heard me. What’s the big deal?”

  Lila hunched over the table and signalled me to do the same. It might have made it more difficult for someone to overhear us, but it also reeked of secrets. With a sigh, I complied, even though I saw a few diners glance our way.

  “No one’s supposed to know about the meetings,” she said. “I saw it once when Zoe took me to watch. She saw them meeting once, and then she started watching for Eliot to sneak out. If she could, she’d follow him. That’s how she knew they met a lot.”

  “Did she tell anyone else?” I asked.

  Lila shook her head and a wave of brown hair spilled over her shoulder.

  “No,” Lila said quietly. “She was afraid that Eliot wasn’t the only one even though he was the only one who ever seemed to meet with the Sheriff.”

  “Where is she now?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “She left one day, said she was going home to help her mom, and she promised she would write. But I never heard from her again.”

  “Do you want me to have someone check on her?” I asked.

  Lila bit her lip, then glanced around the diner.

  “Maybe,” she said. “It’s just…”

  “I’m sure most of the people at the farm are good people,” I assured her.

  She looked at me in surprise, apparently amazed that I had guessed the source of her hesitation.

  “And I’m not a police officer or anything,” I added. “I can’t bring the Sheriff down on you.”

  She considered that for a moment, then nodded.

  “I have her address written down,” she said. “I can give that to you tonight if you come out to the farm for dinner.”

  “Are you inviting me?” I asked.

  She sat back and smiled, and a pleasing bit of pink color dotted her cheeks.

  “I guess I am,” she replied.

  I considered her offer as I studied the freckles on her nose and decided it was a good idea. It would give me a chance to try to soothe the waters with the members of the commune, and maybe give me a chance to study Richard and Eliot up close. There was the added bonus of gathering a little more information about Belle Lucent as well, since she had apparently helped the commune in the past.

  “I’d be delighted,” I said.

  “We usually eat at six,” she said.

  “I’ll be there,” I replied. “Maybe I should bring some of the cherry pie.”

  “Oh, that would be great!” she declared.

  I glanced towards the door then, where two of the local men had stepped back quickly, as if some force had just pushed them out of the way. I spotted the gray haired woman and the man who had gone into the yarn shop, and let a sigh.

  “Your guardians have arrived,” I noted.

  Lila peered over her shoulder and waved towards her fellow commune members before turning back to me with a smile.

  “They’re actually very nice,” she said.

  “I’m sure they are,” I said.

  A moment later, the man and woman were standing by our table. The man seemed pleasant enough with his unruly auburn hair and bleary eyes. The woman, however, wore a scowl that she kept focused on me.

  “We’re heading back to the farm,” the woman declared as she glared at me.

  “Oh, okay,” Lila said calmly. “Do you remember how to find it?”

  “I do,” I said.

  The woman’s eyebrows had nearly met her hairline when Lila asked me, and she finally spared a look for the young woman.

  “I’ve invited him for dinner tonight,” Lila explained.

  “Oh, cool dude,” the man said as he gave me a thumbs up. “It’s veggie lasagna tonight.”

  “Sounds delicious,” I replied graciously.

  “I don’t… you can’t…” the older woman stammered.

  “See you at six,” Lila said as she stood up.

  Lila walked towards the door without bothering to check that her companions were behind her. The man gave me another thumbs up, then trotted after Lila, while the gray haired woman nailed me with another angry stare.

  “Six o’clock, then,” I said.

  The woman huffed, but Lila and the man were outside by then and walking away from the diner. The woman wagged her finger at me, then finally turned in a dramatic motion and marched after them.

  “I need to take some cherry pies with me tonight,” I said to Joelle as she drifted by.

  “I’ll make sure you have enough,” she called back.

  Nearly half an hour later, I left the diner with a stack of carefully balanced pie boxes, which I was happy to see were all made out of cardboard. I walked slowly back to the hotel, where Jess and the clerk greeted me.

  “We can put those in the kitchen if you like,” the clerk said as he held the door for me.

  “That would be great,” I replied.

  I followed Jess and the clerk through the dining room and into the kitchen. The clerk helped me set the pies on one of the counters, then added a note that they were the property of Hunter Morgan. That done, we returned to the lobby, where the duo found another guest waiting for them at the desk. I waved, then risked another trip up the stairs to my own room.

  I still had a tone of questions, but I hoped I might get a few more answers during my dinner at the commune. In the meantime, it wouldn’t hurt to sort through the information I did have, and maybe send an email to Anthony with the name of the other buyer.

  Organizing my thoughts took the rest of the afternoon, and though my brain felt less cluttered afterwards, I still wasn’t sure where all of the connections were. I felt confident that Eliot was feeding information to the Sheriff, but Lila’s uncertainty about the others at the commune made me wonder if there was another agent on the property. It wouldn’t be unheard of, even for an undercover operation, but it also meant that I couldn’t trust anyone else out there until I figured out who the other operative was.

  And then there was the hazy cloud around Hup, Bam and Shifty. They were currently on the outs, that much was clear, but I wasn’t sure how long that would last, and whether Bam could really afford to keep going forward on his own. Shifty could be dangerous, I had no doubts about that, but there was still a man who wanted to do right by his community beneath the menacing stares, and I had hopes that I could sell him on the idea that Campania Olio could help. That just left Hup and his neverending taxes, and a feeling that the property appraiser could bring all of our plans crashing down around us if he felt he was being slighted. Hup, I decided, was our biggest obstacle.

  I composed another email to Anthony, outlining my concerns and asking him to try to track down Zoe, followed by a promise to send her address as soon as I had it. With the day’s business taken care of, I stood up and did a few stretches, then cleaned up for my big dinner date.

  When I returned to the kitchen I found that someone had packed the pies carefully in an old ice chest. A note on top told me that the chest would keep the pies intact during the trip and I could
return it to the kitchen whenever I made it back. The chest was light enough that I could manage on my own, and I carried it from the kitchen to the desk in the lobby, but the clerk was nowhere to be found.

  I heard someone moving around inside the office, and I left the chest on the desk while I went to investigate. I found a young man in the office idly picking through a collection of old video game cartridges. He looked up when I knocked on the door but didn’t move from his spot behind the desk.

  “I just wanted to thank you for the ice chest,” I said.

  “Oh, uh, yeah,” he said in a deep voice that was probably the one he had been rehearsing ever since his voice had started to change.

  “I’ll just leave it in the kitchen when I get back,” I added.

  “Sure,” he agreed.

  I left him to his video considerations and retrieved the chest on my way to the old truck. I debated where to place it, and settled on the floor on the passenger side since I was concerned about it sliding around in the bed of the truck. That decision made, I placed the pies in the truck, slid into the driver’s seat, and eased the old truck out of the parking lot.

  The drive out went as I remembered, though I drove more slowly than Harris had. I nearly missed the turnoff for the commune, and had driven past it when I saw the tunnel of trees alongside the road. Fortunately, no one else was nearby, so I backed up the five feet I’d overshot the commune drive and made the turn. The truck bounced over the gravel and I could hear the pebbles bouncing off the undercarriage as well as the sides of the truck.

  There was a moment of exquisite silence as I hit the muddy track, and then the pinging of the rocks gave way to the noise of grinding gears as I tried to nudge the old Ford through the slop. Somehow, I made it to the picnic table and for a moment, I considered stopping. But, I decided, I was an invited guest who came bearing cherry pies and I crept past the picnic table and parked near a pair of old tractors near the main building.

  Lila emerged a few moments later with a smile on her face and a pair of equally young women behind her. They were a study in contrasts, one a pudgy blonde with milky skin and heavy glasses, and the other a dark-skinned woman with dreads and the lean build of a long distance runner. Both women were smiling as well, and I saw them nudge each other and giggle when I emerged from the truck.

  “You made it!” Lila declared triumphantly.

  “I almost missed the turn off,” I admitted. “But I do have the cherry pies I promised and I didn’t want to let you down.”

  The two women behind Lila squealed then started to giggle. Lila ignored them and peered into the truck with a look of anticipation.

  “In the chest,” I said as she frowned.

  “How many did you get?” she asked in surprise.

  “Enough, I hope,” I laughed.

  The other two women had joined us by then and Lila turned to point to them.

  “This is Donelle,” she said pointing to the black woman, “and this is Patrice.”

  “Pleasure to meet you both,” I addressed the pair.

  “We can carry the chest inside,” Donelle volunteered as she and Patrice swept around the truck.

  The women giggled again as Lila tucked her arm through mine and started to lead me towards the front door of the large building. I heard the passenger door on the truck squeal as the women pulled it open, followed by the sound of it slamming shut. And then we were inside a well-lit room, filled with paper lanterns, scented candles, picnic tables, and a babble of voices. The place was full, though not packed, and there was a homey feel that made me want to pull up a chair and settle in. I spotted a few children in the crowd, which surprised me since the Sheriff hadn’t mentioned them, but then I decided it made sense.

  “Hey, you made it,” the messy-haired man who had found Lila at the diner said.

  “And he brought the pies,” Lila added as she pointed towards the two women who were carrying the ice chest towards a set of swinging doors.

  “Awesome!” the man, who I put in his late forties, declared.

  He strolled away as Lila led me towards a table near the kitchen. People were starting to notice me as we crossed the room and the buzz in the room grew louder. Most of the faces that turned to watch seemed friendly though I spotted a few who looked less than happy to see me there.

  “Here comes Eliot,” Lila whispered.

  A man with dark hair, pasty skin and a furrowed brow was striding towards us. He probably had a couple of inches on me, but he was leaning so far forward as he moved that he looked shorter.

  “Eliot,” Lila said happily when the man abruptly stopped in front of us.

  “Lila,” he said in a raspy voice. He had definitely been a smoker at some point, though he was still in his forties, so he still could be. On the other hand, aside from the man trapped in a bad 80s teenage romp movie, no one around here seemed to smoke, whether marijuana or tobacco.

  “Eliot,” I said as I cracked a smile. “I’m Hunter Morgan.”

  “I know who you are,” he replied sharply.

  Eliot gave Lila a quick smile and then pointed towards the swinging doors.

  “Why don’t you see if they need a hand in the kitchen?” he suggested.

  Lila nodded, gave my arm a squeeze, then disappeared through the doors to the kitchen.

  “Why are you here?” Eliot demanded when Lila was out of earshot.

  “Lila invited me,” I said. “I even brought dessert.”

  I spotted Kerry heading our way, and while he looked put out, he didn’t look as angry as Eliot did at the moment. A trail of people were following behind Eliot, and luckily, they looked a good deal more welcoming than either of the leaders.

  “You’re the attorney for the company buying the mine,” Kerry said loudly as he approached.

  “I am,” I said just as loudly.

  A murmur went up from the crowd, and Eliot scowled at the approaching crowd. The two leaders exchanged heated looks even as the rest of the commune residents started to form a circle around us.

  “Is it true you aren’t going to reopen the mine?” a woman in her sixties asked.

  “It’s true,” I said loudly. “We just need the constant temperatures of the mines for our production. We’ll be making balsamic vinegar.”

  “With what?” someone else demanded. “There aren’t any grapes around here.”

  “The grapes come from a vineyard in Italy,” I replied. “It’s owned by the family. In fact, the grandfather is in charge of the vineyard. He’ll be responsible for creating the must and shipping it to West Virginia.”

  “But why not grow the grapes here?” a woman asked. “That’s a lot of fuel you have to waste to get them here.”

  She had me there, and I didn’t think this was the kind of crowd that would appreciate a lesson in tax evasion.

  “We have to guarantee that the grapes are raised without chemicals,” I said. “We already know what to expect from the vineyard in Italy, so we don’t have to do tests or conduct surveys. And the vines are old, so we know they’re non-GMO.”

  The crowd started to discuss my answer among themselves while the leaders both frowned at me.

  “That doesn’t mean we can’t find grapes that are closer once we have the mine set up,” I added though I really had no idea if that was true or not. I suspected that grapes that did well in Italy probably weren’t going to do well in West Virginia, and the grapes being Italian was the whole selling point of the brand, but I wasn’t prepared to mention that detail. Besides, I hadn’t promised that the grapes would be grown in Folsom.

  “And you’re really serious about making vinegar?” a young woman asked.

  “We have the grapes, we have the balsamic vinegar master, we have the barrels, all we need is a location with the right constant temperature,” I assured the crowd. “Our plan is to pair it with our olive oil, all non-GMO and made from family owned property in Italy.”

  The idea that the grape must had to be shipped to the U.S. to be proce
ssed still had some people worried, to judge by the snippets I could hear, but the fact that we had no interest in extracting any more coal was enough to win over most people.

  “Dinner!” someone yelled out from the swinging doors.

  And just like that, the crowd dispersed to the other tables while a handful of younger men and women emerged from the kitchen with trays of food. Lila showed up at our table with one of the trays and placed a dinner plate in front of each of the seats. I took one seat and Lila draped a dish towel over the seat next to me to show it was taken. The other spots were soon occupied by other members of the commune, and a few moments later, Lila joined us as well.

  The meal was vegetarian from the basil and tomato salad, to the lasagna with green beans on the side. I’m fine with vegetables, though I rarely make them the entire meal. The commune chefs did a great job though, and I took seconds on everything. In between, I spoke with the people at our table, mostly about the mine, but a variety of other topics that came up as well, mostly related to environmental issues.

  We polished off the pies, and I helped remove the plates from our table while Lila cast sly glances in my direction. As the clean-up crew got to work on the dinnerware, I collected the ice chest and carried it back outside to the truck. I had just set it in the bed when I saw Eliot step outside and look around. I ducked out of sight though I couldn’t really explain why. I had every reason to be there, but there was something about Eliot’s expression that made me believe he didn’t want to encounter anyone at the moment.

  Satisfied with what he saw, Eliot marched across the muddy ground towards the barn. I expected to see him duck inside, but he veered away from the well-worn path and I realized he was heading for the same path up the hill that I had seen Lila take. I looked up at the sky, but the moon was a mere crescent in the sky, so no help there, but a quick investigation of the glove compartment produced a small penlight. It wasn’t much, but I was curious to see if Eliot was meeting with the Sheriff again, so I ran after him as fast as I dared in the dark yard.

  I managed to keep track of Eliot as he made his way up the hill, and even as he wound his way through the trees. I could pick out the trail he was on with the penlight, though I tried not to use it too often, in case the commune leader turned around and saw the light flash. It worked well enough until I reached a split in the trail. I was pretty sure that one path led to the spot where we had left the paint cans but I had no idea where the second trail went. It seemed to climb higher along the hillside but it was hard to really see that far ahead with the thin beam of light.