1 Executive Lunch

by Maria E. Schneider

  I glanced around. Her house was spotless, just like she left the condo. The furniture was a mix of old stuff, the heavy kind that gets passed on through families. The carpet could have been the original that came when the house was built. Not even Marilyn could keep it spotless.

  She noticed my perusal. She swallowed and glanced nervously at Derrick. He was trying to appear smaller. I sighed. "Derrick could you go walk the neighborhood or something?"

  He glared at me.

  "Look," I pointed out, "Ted isn't here and Marilyn isn't likely to beat me up, not yet anyway."

  "I can't help you," she inserted hurriedly. "You better leave."

  "Hey," I said, "I don't care a whit about your husband's drug operation. I'm just looking for my friends. Huntington disappeared about two days ago. Poof, just like that, no one has seen him. I need to know if he was here or downtown or wherever you might have seen him since then."

  She shook her head. "I may have seen the guy with the tattoo you mentioned. I'm not sure if he's your friend or not. It was weeks ago."

  I was desperate. I grabbed her shoulders. "Think about it! The guy could be getting himself killed. I've got to find him. They've got Turbo too!"

  I would never hurt Marilyn. She didn't seem particularly upset about my manhandling, but Derrick came unglued.

  "Hey, take it easy. Violence isn't the answer!" He tried pulling me back.

  I gripped harder. "Marilyn, you've got to help me."

  Marilyn shook her head, although in her eyes, I could see that she recognized my fear and desperation.

  Derrick kept trying to drag me backwards. I grabbed Marilyn's blue shirt when he threw his arms around my waist and tugged. I was about to be torn in half. I clung onto Marilyn for dear life.

  "Violence isn't the way to solve problems," he lectured while tugging me.

  "Leggo!" I shouted. "Help!" I beseeched Marilyn.

  She stared at us both as if we had lost our minds. I still had one of her arms. She had to grab onto the wall to avoid being dragged out of her own house. Derrick was sounding off about being gentle and caring and teaching her about the real world. Marilyn and I looked at each other, silently agreeing that the man wouldn't recognize the real world if it bit him.

  "Okay, okay," she said finally. "The guy I'm thinking of goes by Stephen, like your friend, right? But he's, well, I think he's a gang member. He might be a truck dealer. Some of those guys bring their trucks in for servicing at Larry's."

  In relief I let go of her. All the air in my lungs came out in a giant woof as I collapsed back against Derrick. He staggered, nearly dropping me.

  Marilyn warned, "I don't know if Ted knows him or not, plus asking Ted wouldn't do no good. He tells me what he wants, not what I ask about."

  "If you've seen him, why wouldn't Ted know him?" I struggled away from Derrick, but kept an eye on him.

  Marilyn shrugged. "The guy I saw, the one with the tattoo, was at the car shop. I think it was a few weeks ago, maybe two or three. I was taking Ted his lunch. He likes for me to do that sometimes so that he has a nice hot lunch." She looked down, but kept talking. "The sword guy was talking to the owner, Larry Shinock, not Ted." She looked puzzled. "I wouldn't have even thought of him except you mentioned the tattoo. But you're right. He does look like your friend, doesn't he?"

  Derrick slid into the conversation. "What was he talking to Shinock about? Is he the one that drops the drugs?"

  We both turned to him with an evil glare. How dare he insert his business in mine? "Derrick, I told you this was personal. It's not about your case. Do your work on your time."

  He gaped at me. "But I brought you here!"

  I snarled, "I don't owe you anything for that. I just needed the address, not the bodyguard."

  "I'm sure you wouldn't have felt that way if her husband had been here," he said. "Then things would have been different."

  Speaking those words was like calling the devil. We all heard the truck at the same time. "Uh-oh."

  Marilyn's face went white. I was scared she was going to rip her shirt again. I grabbed Derrick's hand. "Come on!" I charged through the kitchen. The back door was locked, but Marilyn was no stranger to throwing a deadbolt in record time. She had us shoved out the back door before footsteps found the front yard.

  I hit the six-foot high wooden privacy fence at full speed. Derrick was supposed to be trained to go over fences, but he seemed a bit more hesitant. Not me. I landed smack in the next yard, right next to Jaws, the rottweiler from hell.

  "Aaah!" Jaws was surprised enough that it took him a moment to charge. That was good because I just made the side fence. Ted could probably see me if he looked out the window. Thank God, Derrick was a pace or two behind me. Jaws couldn't decide which of us looked juicier.

  Derrick couldn't follow me because he-of-large-teeth was tearing my pant leg off. Wisely, Derrick went for the fence on the other side of the yard. When my jeans ripped, Jaws shook the useless prize of blue material and took off after Derrick.

  I landed in the next yard, and to my great relief, it was that of a friend. "Hurry," the lady whispered from her back porch. "Stay below the fence and get in here. He'll hear the dog barking and come out to see what is going on."

  Hurry? My feet were wings. They never touched the ground. One leg was light as air anyway, what with the missing bottom half of my pants. The gray-haired angel slammed the door behind me and peered anxiously out the back.

  "Where did your friend go?" she fretted.

  I panted without answering right away. "No idea. How many more dogs like that are in this neighborhood?"

  She shrugged. "There's a poodle in the yard on the other side. Is that where he went?"

  "I think so."

  She shuddered. "The poodle is worse than the big dog. Comes up to you all friendly and then takes a chunk out of your hand."

  "Great. I'll probably have to take him to the hospital." At least Sean was a lawyer. My only question was whose side was he going to be on?

  "Do you think I can make it to the car?" We had parked across the street. I could get there without going through the Harrison's yard.

  She shook her head. "You should wait until he leaves."

  "When will that be?"

  "Depends."

  "Oh what?"

  "On whether or not he saw you or is suspicious about anything else." She stayed away from the heavily curtained windows. I would have been frantically eying the place, but she probably knew best.

  "I'm Eileen." She offered a rather frail looking hand that still had a firm grip. Eileen was almost as thin as Marilyn, but older than both of us by about two decades. She had on a smart-looking gray jogging suit, and her hair was combed in one of those styles that women get done once a week.

  "You must be Marilyn's friend," I said.

  "She needs them more than most."

  Eileen's house was neat, but not as precise as Marilyn's. I could see pictures of children and probably grandchildren in the living room. She noticed me notice them.

  "My husband passed away about two years ago. That's about the time Marilyn started to trust me. Before that, she just kept to herself." Eileen sighed and sat at the kitchen table. "She was beaten up pretty badly or she might not have even come over here. I called an ambulance."

  "You're the one that usually calls in the police?"

  She tapped her fingernails nervously. "Yes, for all the good it does."

  "Ted threaten you often?"

  She kind of half smiled. "No. He is nice as pie when he isn't drinking." She shrugged. "Lately though, ever since the truck shop started making more money, I think he started sampling some other drugs besides alcohol. He hasn't dared say anything to me yet, but he watches me. The only good thing that has happened lately is that Waterbee doesn't take herself over there anymore to give her opinion."

  "The tattletale?"

  "Yes, that one. That witch used to report on the neighborhood comings and goings any time he'd open the door to her.
A week or so ago, she pounded on over there, intent with her news, and Ted scared the daylights out of her. He was so far gone, I don't think he even recognized her."

  "Where was Marilyn?"

  Eileen watched her fingernails, tapping, tapping against the old oak table. There were a few scars in it and where she sat now, the gloss had worn thin. "She came over here by and by. After he left. Said she was going to stay with a friend." She looked up at me. "Maybe that was you?"

  "She's always welcome."

  "Sometimes lately, she's had a little more time to herself. Usually Fridays."

  "Hmm." A lot of conferences ended on Friday. Huntington would probably want to know about Friday, if he was still alive.

  "Do you know a guy with a sword tattooed on his arm?" I asked. "He has brown eyes. And brown hair." I had only seen him twice in his disguise and only one of those times close up.

  She shook her head. "I don't get out much. I generally avoid men with tattoos."

  I smiled. I knew what she meant. We chatted a while and eventually, Ted left. He didn't storm out, so I heaved a sigh of relief, guessing that Marilyn was probably okay. I started to leave, but Eileen put her hand on my arm. "Wait a bit. He usually drives by at least once."

  "Oh."

  Sure enough, Ted's white Ford pickup made another pass in a matter of minutes. It was a beautiful truck with a front grate and special side rails on the back. He may not treat his wife well, but he kept his truck spruced up. It was quiet too. There was no one to warn Derrick that he was driving by again, but Derrick must not have been sitting out in the open because Ted continued blithely by, stopping the truck briefly in front of his own yard, admiring his possessions.

  When the street returned to its abandoned look, I hurried out into the sunny afternoon. Marilyn came out on the porch and took a seat in her chair. I checked the street up and down before going over to her yard. Eileen stayed with me, probably planning on being my alibi if Ted drove by again.

  Derrick ruined our caution by charging out of his car and yelling at me.

  "You idiot! Where have you been?"

  With dignity, I mumbled, "Go freeze yourself." It wasn't loud enough for him to hear. I trotted up the porch. "You okay?" I reassured myself that Marilyn was in one piece.

  "I told him that the dogs have been barking a lot lately. The neighborhood is very unsettled." She eyed me warily. "He said they'd get quieter if he had anything to say about it. I asked him what he was talking about."

  "And?"

  "He just smiled and said he takes care of business. He's been out late a lot. That wouldn't have anything to do with your friend, would it?"

  Derrick looked grave. I felt a little ill myself.

  "I, uh, I asked…" She looked down. "I asked if they caught the sword man, if he was some sort of thief. He got mad and asked who I had been talking to. He told me to mind my own business."

  "Any idea where they might," I gulped, "keep someone that was causing them trouble?" The only place I could think of was the body shop.

  She shook her head. "No."

  Derrick decided to add his two cents. "We used to have someone watching, but if something went down recently, we wouldn't know about it. Our guys got pulled when Marilyn, when uh, I failed to get additional information. The reports showed some strange activity, but not enough evidence of the place being a drug drop."

  Marilyn looked at him and blinked rapidly. "You mean lots of drugs? You weren't just after Ted because he started using drugs?"

  He looked uncomfortable. "Of course not. We know a lot of money is being flushed through there. We weren't interested in Ted. I mean, unless he wanted help. We were tracking the money."

  Right. Of course the cops would be interested in Ted's welfare. Marilyn and I looked at each other knowingly, and I rolled my eyes.

  "The money isn't from a bunch of drugs," Marilyn said. "It only comes in when they get overtime. There's some contract they work that comes in every month or so and Ted gets a lot of overtime then." She sighed. "Ted gets his drugs from one of the drivers, but I don't think anyone else does. Used to be just pot while he was working, but Larry doesn't like them smoking anywhere near the place. He's afraid it will hurt the equipment, so now Ted goes downtown, like the place I agreed to meet you." Her cheeks flushed.

  Eileen patted her on the arm, showing her support.

  My head was starting to hurt. "I'll just have to follow Ted." I didn't want to cause Marilyn any more pain, but if Ted was involved, he was my ticket to finding Turbo and Huntington. Somehow Turbo had tied Ted to the vans and the stolen computers. Maybe he had seen Ted get into one of the vans after I left and eventually tracked Ted back to where he worked. As for Huntington, he had probably been on the same trail coming from a different direction.

  Marilyn stared hard at her feet. "Following Ted is a bad idea."

  "Don't worry. Derrick knows where he works." Derrick didn't look like he was going to take me there, but if Turbo could find it, so could I.

  She shook her head. "Ted's going hunting. That's why he came by--to have me pack some clothes and a sandwich."

  My heart beat so loud, I thought Ted might hear and come back. It wasn't hunting season for any game animals that I knew of; it was July! "Hunting?"

  She peeked at Derrick, but kept talking. "He just went hunting Sunday. He doesn't usually go this often, and it's almost always for the whole weekend. While I was making his lunch, he laughed and said this time he bagged a really good one."

  "He bagged--" I blinked. "Most hunters brag about their catch after they get back from hunting." I wondered if it was too late to save Turbo and Huntington. "Directions?" I asked.

  Marilyn shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. There's some cabin in the forest that he goes to with the guys. I have never been there."

  "Who owns it?"

  "I don't know. Maybe Larry."

  "Where does Larry live?" I asked.

  "He lives in the top of the shop."

  I looked at Derrick. He didn't look particularly helpful. I turned back to Marilyn. "If Larry does own this hunting place, couldn't we look it up in the county information? Like you found me?"

  Her face looked hopeful for a moment and then fell. "I guess I don't know what county it is in either." She thought about it some more. "Ted mentioned the preserve once. It must be near there. I think." She spared Derrick another fleeting glance. "I think maybe once they were on the preserve when they got a deer."

  A map would get me the counties near the preserve. If the cabin didn't belong to Larry, I was toast. Worse, Turbo and Huntington might be permanently toast. "Thanks Marilyn. I know you took a chance by letting us in. We won't let you down." I smiled weakly and grabbed Derrick's arm. "Ready?"

  He looked like he wanted to ask a few more questions, but he would have had to physically shake me loose. He followed me back to his Dodge and pointed at my missing section of pants. "Lucky that dog didn't get a meatier part."

  I was too worried about Huntington and Turbo to care about my pants. "I've got to find that cabin."

  He sniffed and looked down his nose at me. "If you know more about what is going on, you really need to tell me. I can help. I can put out an call on Ted's truck, but what's the crime?"

  I couldn't prove the kidnapping by any stretch of the imagination. "Can you ask the guys that were watching Larry's place if they know where the cabin is at? I'm going to see if I can find out if Larry owns any property anywhere else besides his shop."

  "If Larry ever went to a hunting lodge while we were on watch, we'll know the location. I can check that. Call you at home?"

  "And at work and my cell. Leave messages if I don't answer." I wasn't sure where I'd be, but I could pick up messages from either machine.

  He dropped me back at my place. It was after two o'clock. I was going to have to hurry to make it back to the condo and to the county offices. If I did find Larry's address, I was going to need four-wheel drive. Since I had spent the last weekend at home, I was
driving the Honda. I needed the Mercedes.

  I changed into jeans that weren't missing half a leg and grabbed my Colorado map. There were a couple of counties that might have property nearby. I should have asked Marilyn how long it took to drive there or how long he was gone when he went.

  I zipped back over to the condo to get the Mercedes. I needed my backpack and maybe some food.

  I ran inside, intent on checking with Derrick one final time and maybe Marilyn to see if she had thought of anything else useful.

  Michael harrumphed loudly when I pelted around the corner towards the elevator.

  "What?" I punched the button, and then had to hold the door opened so he could talk.

  He looked pained. "Madam?"

  "Madam?" I wasn't sure if I had been elevated or demoted. His face turned red. "Fine, fine, call me whatever, what is it?" I stepped back out of the elevator reluctantly.

  He walked towards me and whispered, "You have another visitor."

  "Who?"

  "A rather large fellow. With a," he looked over my head. "Tattoo."

  I grabbed his arm. I think I may have permanently creased his uniform with my grip. "A sword?"

  Michael looked at his clothing in dismay and cleared his throat before answering. "He insisted that he was going upstairs. He said he had a key. I was not convinced. However," Michael lifted his head, "It turned out he had a gun."

  "What?" Huntington didn't need an escort. Michael knew Huntington. "Wasn't it Huntington?"

  "He did bear a resemblance." Michael cleared his throat noisily. "Given the assortment of characters that you have trailed through here, I didn't think it prudent to call in the authorities until I had checked with you." He continued to stare at an invisible point somewhere over my head. I almost checked to see if there was something interesting behind me.

  "So…" If it wasn't Huntington, who was it? And what were the chances I was going to mosey on up to my room knowing there was a strange guy there with a gun? Even if it was Huntington with a gun, I would still be worried. The man had originally wanted to shoot me.

  "Can I borrow your phone?"

  "We aim to serve." His Grand Snobbery couldn't quite contain a smirk. "If you wish me to place the call to the police, I have the number."