Evil in Paradise

by R. B. Conroy

  Bones’ face flushed red from Dirk’s sudden attack. He didn’t want a brawl in his bar. He’d seen enough of them during his tenure as owner of the raucous saloon. He attempted to calm the situation. “It’s okay, boys, please sit down. It’s okay.” The bulbous owner smiled at them and pushed his hands toward the ground, but they didn’t budge.

  Dirk, impervious to the other patrons, had his eyes fixed on Bones.

  Bones avoided direct eye contact with the enraged Dirk, “Sit down! Damn it, Dirk, this place is ready to explode! I can explain things to you.”

  Dirk held his stare for a few more seconds, and then he glanced around the room and saw the other bikers standing next to their tables glaring at him. He wasn’t frightened, but his anger had subsided somewhat, so he begrudgingly obeyed Bones’ request and eased back onto his stool.

  Bones spoke quietly, “Listen, Dirk, I’m sorry you’re in a jam, I really am, but I’m not makin’ shit either. Yeah, this place is busy and all, but I got me five kids at home I have to feed. I’m paying support to my ex and I have an invalid sister and her dead-beat husband who I send four hundred clams a month. On top of that, I owe the hospital over two hundred thousand dollars for my wife’s lung cancer surgery last year. I promise you, my friend, at the end of the month I’ve barely got enough to pay my bills. And, that’s no bull shit!” He scanned Dirk’s face nervously.

  Dirk was frightened, not by the scene in the bar-he was always ready for a fight-but he was frightened by the offer from Cathy Roberts and what it could do to his life. He was trying everything to keep from taking her up on her offer, and when Bones said he couldn’t help he knew that his options had all been exhausted and he overreacted. He exhaled slowly and shook his head. His anger had subsided fully now and he felt awkward. He knew that a lot of the boys in the bar were his customers and he realized what a stupid mistake he had made by losing his temper.

  Bones, sensing Dirk’s distress, came to his aid. “Hey, fellas, everything’s all right. We all know that Dirk’s got a little temper on him.” There was muffled laughter in the bar. “But we love him and he runs one hell of a bike shop, don’t he, boys!”

  “He sure as hell does!” one of men shouted. “He’s got the best bike shop in northern Florida!”

  The other men nodded their approval and slowly, one by one, they began taking their seats. Dirk turned his head and cracked a tiny smile. He looked around the room and nodded, as if to say thanks. Soon all the men were once again seated and loud conversation filled the room. Dirk slowly raised his hand and he and Bones shared an aggressive high five; several of the men applauded.

  “I guess I kind of lost it, Bones,” Dirk murmured.

  “Oh hell, that’s all right.” Those things happen.”

  Dirk’s cell phone suddenly rang; he glanced at his watch before answering it. It was three o’clock and he knew who was calling. Dirk slid the phone from his pocket and pointed his finger at it. Bones nodded and went to wait on a customer who had just saddled up to the bar a few seats away. Dirk flipped the lid on his cell and answered, “Yo, Dirk here.”

  “Yes, Dirk, Cathy Roberts calling.”

  “I know, I saw your number on my caller ID.”

  “You have my number saved?”

  “Yes. Hold on a minute, I’ve got to get outside. I’m in a bar right now and it’s a little noisy in here.”

  “Okay.”

  Dirk dropped the cell to his side and hurried from the bar. Once outside, he walked over and leaned against the warm leather seat on his Harley and lifted the cell to his ear. “Okay, I’m outside, now I can talk.”

  “Well, I believe you know why I’m calling. Have you made a decision?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, what is it?”

  Dirk kicked at the loose gravel on the street next to his bike. “I’ll do it all right but this thing is risky and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in prison, do you understand?”

  “Well, yes, certainly, but rest at ease, Mr. Harrison, I’ve thought this thing out and I’ve covered every contingency and nobody should get hurt here.”

  “Well, that’s our first problem, Mrs. Roberts.”

  “What on earth do you mean?”

  “If I’m gonna put my ass on the line, we’re gonna do it my way, not yours.”

  Controlling by nature, Cathy became very agitated. “That’s just not possible, Mr. Harrison! I have a foolproof plan. I’ve thought it out, over and over again, and I know it will work.”

  “You heard me!”

  “Why, you creepy low-life,” she mumbled.

  “What was that? What did you just say? I couldn’t hear you.”

  Cathy bit her tongue. “Nothing, oh nothing.”

  She was angry, so angry she couldn’t stand it. She fantasized poking his eyes out with an ice pick. She was furious. She had a perfect plan and now this uncouth barbarian wanted to take charge of things. She was upset but she needed him and he knew it. Dirk knew too much at this point. If she didn’t use him, an angry Dirk might go to the police and turn her in. She would be arrested, indicted, and as Dirk said earlier, possibly spend time in jail.

  There was an agonizing silence on the other end of the phone. Dirk knew the muffled remarks were a putdown, but he didn’t want to fall victim to another heated outburst, so he collected himself and spoke quietly and slowly. “It’s my way or the highway, Mrs. Roberts. And one more thing, I want twenty thousand up front and the rest when I’m finished.”

  “Why you … you can’t do that! I told you I would pay you when you finished the job and no sooner.” She worried that if she paid him twenty thousand up front, there would be a money trail right back to her-something she desperately wanted to avoid for her sake and for Eric’s.

  “You heard me, lady.”

  Cathy was livid. This unseemly ruffian was changing everything. She was having horrid visions of torturing him and then chopping up his body into a thousand pieces and feeding him to swarming school of piranhas. They were sick, depraved thoughts-the same thoughts she had when her husband Ed told her she couldn’t have something that she really wanted. She took a deep breath, composed herself and went on,” What if I gave you more money? Let’s say a hundred twenty thousand?”

  An ugly grin broke out on Dirk’s narrow face, “You take me for a fool, Mrs. Roberts. You think I’m stupid. Well, you’re the dumb one, Mrs. Roberts. If you think I’m putting my ass on the line before getting any of the money, you’re nuts! I want twenty thousand up front and the rest when the job’s done, end of discussion!”

  “I thought we had a good relationship, Mr. Harrison. I thought you trusted me. I’m surprised by your testy tone. I thought we were becoming friends. It’s very upsetting!”

  Dirk roared in laughter. “Yeah, we’re real pals, lady. I was thinking about asking you to join the bridge club with me!” He roared again, even louder, and then he fell quiet, dead quiet for a few seconds, and then he spoke in a deep, sinister voice, “I never trusted you, lady, and I never will. You’re the only person I’ve ever met in this world who’s meaner than me. You’re one evil bitch. We’ll do it my way, and if you don’t like it, turn your cell off and leave me alone.”

  Cathy cleared her throat, “Why you…..” she caught herself once again, took a deep breath and continued in her society lady tone. “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Harrison, and unfortunately, I have very little choice.” She paused and continued in a pained, withdrawn tone, “I will agree to your new terms on two conditions.”

  A couple of bikers came out the front door of Diablo’s. Dirk stood and walked about twenty feet down the sidewalk, away from the front door and out of earshot of the departing toughs. He pushed the phone closer to his ear. “Didn’t you hear me, bitch, I’m setting the agenda!”

  Cathy had heard enough. “Now, you listen to me! We’re both going to be into this thing up to our eyeballs before it’s over, and you need me just as badly as I need you. My guess would be that you’ve d
iscovered in the last twenty-four hours that your business is much worse than you thought and that none of your so-called friends will loan you a damned cent. Am I wrong?”

  Dirk was amazed at the intuition of this nasty lady. He was impressed and taken aback. “Up yours, lady. You talk too much.”

  “That’s what I thought. Now listen closely. This is the next to last cell phone conversation you and I will have. My husband owns a Harley, so one or two calls between us would not draw attention if an investigation ever ensued, but a whole series of calls over a several day period would raise all kinds of red flags. Plus, they can find out which cell phone towers were used for the calls and identify our locations at the time of the call. That would be way too much information for the authorities to have. We have to be extremely careful with our cell phones calls.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “I don’t believe we should meet secretly. If somebody would happen to see the two of us meeting at an isolated location, they would know we were up to no good. I think that the best place for us to meet would be in a very public place. The Marion flea market is about ten miles north of Lady Lake on 27. It is a huge place with literally hundreds of product booths and it is usually very busy. That would be a great place for us to meet. We could rendezvous in the runway at various locations and nobody would think a thing of it. We would need to laugh and act friendly like two friends or neighbors who happened to run into each other while spending a fun day shopping at the flea market. We will both need to have a large cloth shopping bag with us so we can exchange notes into the other’s bag.”

  “Where the hell am I going to get a shopping bag?”

  “They sell them all over the place. It’s an environmental thing. They only cost fifty cents or something like that. Walmart sells them. Go to Walmart and get one.”

  Dirk hocked a big one out into the street; the dust flew as it splattered to the ground. “Won’t I be cute, Dirk and his little shopping bag.”

  Cathy chuckled, “Everybody at the flea market has a shopping bag. You won’t look that funny.”

  “Huh!” He shook his head disgustedly. “It won’t work, lady. What if someone sees you drop a note in my bag?”

  “Don’t you think I’ve thought of that?” Cathy grumbled. “Here’s what you do. While we are talking, you will open your bag as if you want to show me something that you have bought that day. I will have the message folded in the palm of my hand and when I reach up to pull your bag open to look in, I will drop the note in your bag, or vice-versa.”

  “Sounds like a lot of BS to me.”

  “There’s a lot at stake here, we can’t be too careful. Nobody would think a thing about two people who know each other talking in the middle of the flea market.”

  “How are we going to know which booth to meet at? I’ve been there, that place goes on forever.” Dirk grunted.

  “Good question. There’s a CVS Pharmacy just down the road from your shop and they have a bulletin board just inside the front entrance. As a public service, they allow the local citizens to post little ads on this bulletin board. Actually, you can post just about anything there. When I need to get you information, I will post a note on that bulletin board in the morning and sign it Kathy with a K instead of a C. No last name in case someone I know might read it. On the note I will write, for example, “Used books for sale” and I will include a fictitious phone number and sign it Kathy. You will know to meet me at two o’clock in the afternoon in front of the used books booth at the flea market.”

  “Will we always meet at four?”

  “Yes, if it’s any different, I will write a twelve or one, or whatever time it is, in the upper right hand corner of my note.

  Dirk walked back to his bike and hopped aboard. He kicked the stand up and sat astride his bike staring through the front window at Diablo’s. “What about the money? How are you going to get me the money?”

  “Same way. After we know the plan, we will meet for the first time at the market. I will have an extra bag with me and I will give it to you. It will be folded up with the money inside. You will thank me all over the place for loaning you an extra bag and then walk away with your money.”

  “How will I know when you are going to put a message at CVS?”

  “Can you hear the traffic out on 27 from your shop?”

  “Are you kidding, it drives me nuts.”

  “Good, on days I have a message I will drive by your shop on the way to CVS and honk my horn three times in a row. That will be your signal to go check the bulletin board.”

  “What a bunch of Mickey Mouse BS,” he groused.

  Cathy had had enough of his complaining, “This is not Mickey Mouse BS! What we are doing is extremely serious! If we don’t do it right, we could both end up in jail!”

  Dirk clicked the key on his bike to the on position, “I gotta go.”

  “One more thing! I think it would be perfectly natural for you to return a call to me from the shop. So we have one call left. Call me when you have your plan completed and give me all the details. You have my number on the screen of your cell.”

  The Harley growled to a start and then sat chugging. “You’ll get your plans, lady. Just be sure you have the twenty grand ready when the times comes. I gotta go.” He clicked his cell off, pushed his heavy bike back onto the street, kicked the foot gear shifter into first and twisted the accelerator on the ape bar. The bike lurched forward and sped from the parking lot. Dirk’s mind was racing. Not a detailed person, he had to come up with a flawless plan to rid the world of Ed Roberts. That bitch is going to be the death of me. He twisted hard on the accelerator; the front tire lifted off of the ground briefly and then banged against the asphalt as the bike shot forward. His black hair blew straight in the stiff breeze, his dark eyes burned in the hot wind as he raced toward town.

  20

  With a golf bag draped over his shoulder and lugging a bulging suitcase behind him, Ed was growing a little weary as he carried his luggage through the door at the South Bend Regional Airport. He always tried to pack everything in one bag for convenience sake causing his suitcase to feel like an over-sized bowling ball. Add to this, a golf bag full of clubs, and even for a man in Ed’s physical condition, it was quite a load to lug around. Jared had suggested that he bring his golf clubs to Indiana just in case Ed’s arrival time allowed for a round of golf.

  Ed paused outside the door and scanned the entry road looking for Jared. A few seconds later he spotted him exiting his car a short distance away. Jared saw him, smiled and hustled toward him.

  “Morning, Ed, glad you’ve arrived safe and sound.” The two men exchanged a firm handshake. “Here, let me take that.” Jared slid the golf bag off Ed’s shoulder.

  “Sorry for the early flight, Jared. It was the only flight I could get that left at a decent time. Hope you don’t mind.”

  Jared chuckled. “Let’s see, you arrived early, you have on your golf clothes. I’ll bet you think we have a tee time.”

  Ed’s brow lifted.

  “Well, you’re right, boss. I’ve arranged a tee time for us at Timber Ridge, as if you didn’t know, it happens to be right on the way back to the office. Cocktails and dinner will be served at the Tippecanoe Country Club later this evening. The cocktail hour doesn’t start until 6:30, so we have plenty of time to play golf and still get ready for dinner. We can stop and get you a rental car after golf and I planned on you staying at our place. Is that okay?”

  “I love your place, but I don’t want to impose.”

  “Are you kidding, Ed. That’s why Erica built those fancy guest quarters. It’s separate and private. We won’t even know you’re there.”

  “Thank you, it’s a very comfortable place to stay and Timber Ridge is a great track. When is our tee time?”

  “10:32,” Jared said.

  “Okay, then we’d better get hustling.”

  The two men, with Ed’s luggage and golf clubs in tow, walked hurriedly toward Jared’s SUV and tossed
everything in the rear cargo area. Soon they were departing the airport and starting the forty-five minute drive to Timber Ridge.

  * * * * * *

  Jared took a hard right off the narrow country lane into the tree lined parking lot at Timber Ridge. Ed smiled when he saw the quaint, brown cedar clubhouse ahead. It still had that warm, inviting feel about it. Ed thought back to all the good times he and his friends had at the secluded course. Ed loved The Villages, but he also missed his life in Indiana.

  Jared pulled into the parking area and pushed the button to the hatchback on his SUV. The two men quickly jumped out and headed for the back of the vehicle. A few seconds later, the friendly owner of the golf course pulled up in a golf cart and hopped off to greet them.

  “Morning, guys!”

  “Good morning, Greg. I guess we’re getting the royal treatment here with the boss bringing us a cart!” Ed joked.

  “Nothing’s too good for my banker buddies,” Greg quipped.

  The three men exchanged warm handshakes and some brief conversation.

  “There’s a bunch of kids getting ready to tee off on one.” The owner pointed toward the open pavilion near the clubhouse where a large group of young boys and girls were milling around. “There are thirty of them. You’d better get going.”

  “Okay!” Jared exclaimed. “Let’s get at it.”

  Greg helped them load up their bags and then hurried on back to the clubhouse. Jared drove rapidly to the vacant first tee and jerked to a stop. He and Ed quickly exited the cart, loosened up a little, grabbed their drivers out of their respective bags and hit their drives. Soon they were driving down the fairway toward their first shots.

  As he so often did, Ed took the opportunity on the golf course to talk a little business. It made him feel like the time golfing was not completely wasted. “How are things at the bank?”

  Jared, who was usually very quick to extol the virtues of the bank, hesitated ever so briefly, and then replied. “Fine, things are fine.”

  “But…?” the perceptive Ed replied.