The Case

by Lee Cunningham

  But hadn’t little Johnny been arrested or written citations for Minor in Possession of Alcohol seven times in his last three years in high school…and hadn’t the first ticket come after three warning phone calls from the same deputy? But no, they couldn’t listen to the cops. The parents believed they knew better. They simply knew little Johnny was being picked on, maybe even “profiled.” After all, this was the entitlement generation. There was no accountability for bad actions, and everything was free! Heath shook his head and laughed out loud after his sipped the mocha. Some people were so stupid, he thought.

  A sheriff’s unit pulled in ten parking spaces away from him toward the highway and backed up to wait for another unit. Heath instantly felt safe. He grabbed his cell phone and began making calls to dope dealers. Heath used all his vehicle mirrors and windows as his eyes swiveled back and forth to make sure no one walked up on him while he was talking. After his forth call, another sheriff’s unit pulled straight in next to the first unit, so the deputies could talk window-to-window. Heath relaxed even more. He felt nothing bad could happen to him, with two police units right there at his side.

  The cops talked for about 20 minutes, when suddenly the first one to arrive activated the unit’s overhead lights and drove out quickly. When the officer arrived at the main highway he activated his siren, and sped off eastbound. The dealer on the phone asked Heath if the cops were there for him.

  Heath said, “No, one of them is going to some emergency call, probably to bail someone out of a jamb they got themselves in to. Whoever is involved will probably end up hating the cops, saying it’s all the cop’s fault, and suing them over whatever happens. And they’ll probably get a settlement!” The dealer laughed, and the conversation continued.

  This dealer was an old-time doper from the bay area, who had settled in west Sacramento. He had gone to prison only once, in his youth. But once he was out of the joint and off parole, he had opened an auto body business, employing only ex-cons who had gone straight. The business was successful, and eventually he got married and began raising a family.

  This guy never used any “product,” but eventually couldn’t resist getting back in to the business for the thrill of the deal, and the easy money, of course. Prison had taught him to be more careful. This dealer later taught Heath valuable lessons about dealing drugs, when they first met. In prison, Heath reflected on those lessons, and how he should have paid more attention, and not made the mistakes that sent him to prison.

  The dealer never worked with anyone other than longtime associate dope dealers, and he never took delivery of any “product.” He facilitated deals, bought and sold, and only took delivery of money. He referred to himself as a “broker” and had used his lifelong network of large dealers to establish himself as a major player. He always knew who really needed product, and who had an oversupply, and needed to sell. He skimmed a chunk of cash off of each sale, and people on both sides were happy. He had become an institution in the business. He was truly “networked.”

  Heath actually like this guy. But as with all the other calls Heath made that day, “the broker” had no information about the two murders. And Heath wasn’t surprised in the least. He swallowed the last sip of his now-cold coffee. The sensation of hunger temporarily satisfied by the muffin, had already returned. In fact he was very hungry. More importantly, he was restless, and tired of being alone. He again thought of Jessica.

  Two and a half hours later Heath ended the last of his calls. He sat in his pick-up staring out at the grass. About 20 little kids had gathered to play soccer, while a few parents directed them on a field, a hundred yards away. Heath smiled remembering being a kid, and loving to play catch, with his dad and his brother. Even their mom had thrown the baseball with them when they were young.

  But it was football that Heath and Shane loved. Their dad loved to toss the ball with them, but their mom could never get the hang of throwing a football. Her hands were too small, and they always teased her when the ball drifted away a few yards and thumped the ground, off to the side, when she attempted a pass. But she was a good sport, and would always try one more time, then just laugh, and give up.

  Heath had loved his mom above all else. He still missed her. The hole she had left in him when she died, was sometimes just filled with angry, unbearable pain. To make matters worse his heroic dad and saint of a mom had died together, the same day…the day that ruined his life.

  Heath made the phone call to Bobby, reporting that he had contacted everyone in Sacramento he knew, and that no one had any information. He said he had pressed all his contacts to pressure their sources, hoping some information would surface. He promised to call Bobby as soon as he heard anything.

  Before he hung up he suggested to Bobby that the family try and use other contacts, outside the dope world, intimating that maybe these hits had come from someone other than rival cartels. Bobby had listened, but made no commitment to relay that message to Hector. He seemed to be scrutinizing the conversation, but for what, Heath couldn’t guess.

  Heath decided to go for a drive and see some sights. He would drive to Virginia City to see if he could find one of the old famous saloons that had been there since before the turn of the century. He thought the drive would do him good. And he could think about Jessica while he drove.

  He dreaded that he would actually have to go back to the doctor’s house tonight. He couldn’t be absent for two nights in a row he thought. That would be too risky. But before he made it out of Carson City, Bobby called again. Bobby told Heath that Hector wanted to talk to him right now. Heath pulled in to a convenience store parking lot off Highway 50 East, so he could to stop and focus on the call.

  Heath recognized Hector’s voice when he said, “Heath is that you?”

  Heath replied, “I’m here, boss.”

  Hector said, “Bobby says none of your contacts in the whole Sac area has heard a word? Not one word? No bragging? No calls to suggest the business needs to go back to the former contractors?”

  Heath assured Hector there was no news. He said, “Hector, I pressured all these guys. I talked to one guy for almost half an hour. I told you about this guy, ‘the broker,’ who knows everyone and everything, and he knows nothing about this. They’re all as mystified as we are! No one knows anything, and if they do, they aren’t talking. And…you know, even that possibility just doesn’t make any sense. Who could they be so afraid of to keep them from talking to us, if they did know something?”

  There was silence on the phone. Hector asked, “So Heath, tell me what do you think? You’re a smart guy, and you know the game.”

  Heath had no choice. He had to tell Hector the same thing he had told Bobby, or he could put himself in a bad spot. He hoped Bobby had relayed his thoughts from the prior call.

  Heath said confidently, “I think if it was a rival contractor we would have heard something by now. The guys we know in Sac are big enough players that they don’t like being threatened, or pushed around. At least one of them would tell us, if they knew something. So my hunch is that this problem didn’t come from our competition. It must have come from somewhere else, outside our world of business.”

  There was an eerie silence on the phone. Heath listened closely to monitor any whispering or background conversations, but he detected nothing. Hector finally said, “That’s what Bobby told me you thought. Any ideas who?”

  Heath said firmly, “I haven’t got a clue, but then I’m new to our group, and don’t know the history. So, I’m thinking enemies, or revenge, or maybe someone trying to re-order the game and power structure, within the organization. I don’t know who, but that angle seems to make more sense to me than some of our competition.”

  After another silence, with some whispering in the background that Heath couldn’t make out, Hector said, “I think you may be right my friend. This doesn’t make any sense to us on this end either. Nothing going on at the doctor’s house?”

  Heath lied, “I’ve seen nothing
at all, ever since I’ve been there.”

  Hector immediately replied, “I want you to take some time off, and relax. No need to come to the doctor’s house tonight. Go get a steak dinner. Relax and have some fun. You’ve done a great job. And if you need a girl, we can send one your way!”

  Heath said, “No, thanks. I appreciate it. All I need is a steak, and some sleep. What do you want to me do tomorrow?”

  Hector said, “Bobby will be in touch in a few days. Take some time off. You’ve earned it. Stay out of sight in case we need you again. We’re still looking at our own people, and don’t want them to know about you. But Heath…if you hear anything, and I mean anything, you call Bobby, as soon as you hear. Okay?”

  Heath assured Hector he would call immediately if he heard anything, and ended the call. He drove out on to the highway, and headed east to Virginia City, or “VC” as the locals called it. He thought he really needed some “R and R,” and was glad that he wouldn’t be interrupted by phone calls, or have to yawn through another boring shift at the doctor’s house, looking all night for something that wasn’t there, and would not appear. He knew he would never be calling Bobby with information on the shooter. After all, he was the shooter!

  Within minutes he was turning off Highway 50 East onto State Route 341 to Virginia City. All Heath could think about was a steak dinner, a stiff drink, and a pretty girl to look at, while he ate. He wished he knew when Jessica was off work. He could anticipate the steak and drink, but he craved the site of a pretty face, and a nice body. He hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed.

  As he drove up the grade to the little mountain town he thought how he really needed to make a plan. He had to find a way out of this whole situation for himself, and he had to find a way to continue to protect his brother and his daughters. But the two didn’t seem to fit together. He decided he would just sit and relax, eat and drink, and people-watch, while he made a plan. He needed a good plan. But Shane had always been the planner. If only he could talk to Shane, Heath thought.

  Long before Heath had left his motel room that morning, Shane and Kate had finished their cinnamon roll and second latte. Once Jesse finished briefing Pete and Tasha, everyone wanted to go explore town and have breakfast at a local restaurant to experience the local color. Kate and Shane were still hungry and agreed to join them.

  The new lovers showered and were dressed and ready in 30 minutes. Kate pulled on a light purple jacket over a lighter colored purple turtleneck sweater. Both the sweater and the jacket seemed to form fit Kate’s lovely curves and flat stomach. Jeans that fit her like a glove completed the presentation. Shane couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was form fitted like Annika Hansen who played Star Trek Voyager’s, Seven of Nine, yet Kate was even more alluring, more beautiful, and more voluptuous...if that was possible!

  Shane watched as if in anticipation of some major event, as Kate applied purple lipstick, and then accentuated her eyes with a purple eye liner, blended with nearly black accents. She then finished her eyes with a faint greenish blue upper eyelid color, she feathered out and in to black, to make her large beautiful eyes appear even larger, and more striking. Shane began to sweat as his heart pounded harder. An erection in his jeans began to surge.

  After a few touches of mascara to lengthen her wonderful eyelashes, and darken the color to an even darker black, Kate completed the masterpiece, adding a few strokes of dark brown eyebrow pencil, to her luscious thick eyebrows. Shane marveled at the resulting artistry, that stared back at him through the mirror. Kate was super-model material, drop dead gorgeous, he mused. As an added benefit, she had completed the perfect canvas with the speed and skill of a master makeup artist, in less than ten minutes.

  Kate wheeled around as if in a rush, not realizing the effect she had produced on Shane, and said, “Ready? Not much of a makeup job today. But, I’m famished!”

  Shane wanted to throw her down on the bed and repeat the earlier engagement, but he settled for a quick kiss, and followed Kate out the door, appreciating every movement of the perfect body before him. He quickly adjusted himself, to avoid obvious detection. They met Pete and Tasha at the bottom of the steps. Shane wondered if they could read his mind, see his bulge, or detect pheromones he must be releasing. He slightly blushed at the possibilities.

  Tasha said, “I’m still so hungry after the cinnamon roll. I’m afraid I rushed through my make-up this morning.” Looking back at Pete as they walked, she said flirtatiously, “I hope the boss doesn’t fire me!”

  She and Kate laughed and chatted, as Pete looked to Shane and whispered, “Fat chance of that!” They both grinned at each other. Shane hadn’t seen Pete look so happy in years. Tasha was after all, beautiful, smart, loyal and very nice…a rare, and almost unattainable character set for a modern-day person, Shane thought.

  As the two women walked out the front door ahead of them Shane grabbed Pete around the shoulder with his strong right arm and said, “Pete, I’m so happy for both of us. I just want you to know how much I love you. You mean the world to me, and I promise you, when this is over and we’re all safe, I will be an even better…son to you, and to Tasha.”

  The word “son” made Shane’s voice crack, and tears filled his eyes, as he whispered the few words that followed. He couldn’t control the flowing tears, as suppressed emotions from his very soul gushed forth in a tidal wave.

  The wet flow just kept coming, streaming down his face. Suddenly he couldn’t speak. He could barely breathe. He lost his ability to utter any sound, and the words he mouthed formed in pained shape only, without as much as an accompanying gasp of breath.

  The feelings he longed to express were now contained in lengthy emotion-filled sentences, comprised of important silent words he wanted to say, but was unable to speak. His mouth stopped trying, as the unspoken words stacked up in his mind, like logs jamming a raging river at a narrow bottleneck. The effect was overwhelming.

  Shane stood in the doorway helplessly overcome with emotion, and not really understanding why. He knew how much Pete meant to him and he couldn’t bear the idea that Heath had hurt Pete so badly. And even worse, he himself had confronted Pete about Heath, and hurt him even more, just days before. Shane felt overwhelmed with guilt, with love, and with the need to make amends. He knew he needed Pete to understand his true feelings.

  Pete sensed Shane’s emotions, and instantly understood. He grabbed Shane in a bear hug, as sympathetic tears filled his own eyes. He choked out, “Shane, my boy, I do understand. You mean more to me than any three sons I could have ever hoped for…I don’t understand how you could be any better. What could possibly be bothering you?”

  As the two strong, brave men stood in the doorway hugging and crying over their combined love and respect for each other, two stunned women looked back from the pick-up they were about to enter. They were both at a loss to understand what had transpired to change the mood so quickly, in the short journey between the landing, and the front door.

  Tasha asked Kate quietly,” What could have happened in the time it took to walk a few steps to the truck? It must be something terrible.” She and Kate both froze in their tracks, afraid to approach their men and ask, and yet not wanting to get in the pick-up, and act disinterested.

  As the men slowly recovered, chests heaving, both struggling to control their breathing, they walked past their mates to the truck, drying their eyes, each with an arm still around the other’s shoulders. The two women got in the back seat, figuring the men would want to continue talking, and the explanation would follow, without asking.

  When they arrived at the pick-up, Shane struggled to say, “Pete, I’ll drive, and you navigate, so I can learn the towns.” With that the two men got in their seats and buckled up, without another word. Shane drove off slowly and carefully down the long drive, not even looking in the mirror at Kate. In the back seat two women glanced at each other with anticipation, expecting the worst news to come at any moment.

  At the end of a mile Pete
turned around and reached back for Tasha’s hand. He said proudly, “God, I love this boy and this family!” He then took Kate by the hand and said, “Do you know how lucky we all are to have each other?” Both women remained quiet for the explanation.

  He then smiled proudly, released Kate’s hand, turned back around, and said in a calm voice, “Okay Shane, this road will lead to the highway going in to Joseph. I’ll let you know where to turn to go the back way, along Alder Slope. It’s a pretty drive, and we’ll see some deer and maybe some elk, if we’re lucky.”

  The men looked at each other with huge grins, as the women looked at each other, as if studying one another’s face for the answer. No more was said, and the women figured whatever it had been, the crisis was over. Tasha whispered to Kate, “Do you find that sometimes men are difficult to read or understand?”

  Kate laughed quietly and whispered back, “Yes, and they say we’re the emotional ones!” She then grabbed her cell phone and dialed a number, asking a friend to join them for breakfast.

  Arriving in Joseph, they passed the 1917 Lumber store and came to a stop sign at the highway. Shane asked, “Since we’ve been here I haven’t seen a stop light, only stop signs…so are there any traffic signals here?”

  Pete said approvingly, “Not a damn one! Isn’t’ that great?!”

  Shane said, “I know where we are now. 1917 Lumber is the place that sells lumber, building supplies, and those smokers you have at the estate and ranch. Jesse uses those to smoke all types of meat and to barbeque just about anything. Where do we want to eat? I’m starved!”

  Kate was still on the phone and said, “Are you sure? Okay then, we’ll be there in 10 minutes!” She ended the call and said, “Honey, turn left. We’ve all been invited to breakfast!”

  Within two minutes they were out of Joseph heading back to Enterprise on the Wallowa Lake Highway, which Kate said was also known as the Joseph Highway, and also known as Highway 82. She said, “I think it’s an Oregon thing!” and they all laughed.