Bad Reputation: The Complete Collection

by Matt Hader

The house Keith purchased was located only four blocks from John’s own home but in an area near the high school and the freight train tracks. The house was nice but less desirable in his in-laws’ estimation. And it was a house not worthy of their daughter to live in.

  John asked, “What about the new SUV?”

  “It’s leased…in my father-in-law’s name. That son of a bitch didn’t want his grandkids driving around in a Chevy. Forget him, right?”

  Keith didn’t hold back because he assumed that John had been sent by Franky “Five Bucks” to kill him, so he told John all about the sordid, Randall Road land purchase details including how he had taken the money from his wife’s account to try to get out from under his in-laws’ thumb.

  John wasn’t sure how to continue, either. He didn’t count on feeling sorry for this guy. He thought that Keith could be the one taking his robbery/Fourth of July proceeds, and he probably was, but how in the hell was he supposed to proceed in scaring the money out of him now?

  John’s plan, albeit quickly concocted on the short drive to this Inverness cul-de-sac, was simply to confront Keith and to try and get some of his money back.

  John finally said, “You took the money from the wicker basket, didn’t you?”

  That’s when Keith literally dropped the glass in his hand to the carpeted floor. Shortly after the glass bounced off the floor, Keith was kneeling right next to it – a completely beaten man.

  Keith mumbled, “The Baby Face Robber. Oh, my God. I’m. I’m…I…”

  John wasn’t sure if he wanted to physically lash out at this man or not, but as he was thinking it through, a strange, whirring sound started, growing louder as it approached the study.

  “What’s that noise?” said John, reaching toward his back waistband again where his fake gun didn’t reside.

  “Please, don’t. Please…”

  And that’s when Kenny Michaels, Keith’s nine-year-old, quadriplegic son, rolled into the room in his breathing-tube guided electric chair.

  “Is everything okay, daddy?”

  Before Keith could answer, John was out the door jogging back to his car. The little boy never even saw him.

  ***

  Keith Michaels never did call the police to report the strange meeting in his study with the Baby Face Robber. It would only complicate things for his family, and he wanted to keep his troubles quiet as long as he could.

  That night, when he had regrouped and had dinner with his wife and children, he stepped out to the cul-de-sac to retrieve his mail. What he found along with a smattering of credit card offers was a tightly wrapped brown paper bag containing $45,000 in cash.

  Keith hugged the money to his chest, sat on the driveway and wept.

  CHAPTER 36

  He was angry with himself as he pulled out of the Inverness subdivision, $45,000 lighter. He was so angry that he didn’t even notice that he was being followed by the Jeep Cherokee.

  Leaving the $45,000 behind was an impulsive reaction to Keith’s dire financial and family situation. The poor mope needed the money more than he did, but he was still mentally kicking himself in the ass on the rest of the car ride to the Route 14 area.

  While driving towards Balmoral Road and Route 14, John had driven past an empty storefront that was, at one time, a carpet wholesale store. With 20-foot-high, wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling glass facing the street, it would be perfect for the Kid Crew franchise location.

  Literal transparency would be a boon for this particular business franchise, because passing motorists would be able to peer inside and see the goings-on as the children skittered about – tumbling, dancing, and generally having a good time.

  And what made that even more appealing was that it was only two blocks from the busy Route 14 and Balmoral Road intersection. Most weekdays during the morning and evening rush hours, the cars in either direction would be slowed to a crawl. That meant even more wandering eyeballs on the Kid Crew franchise.

  John had made a few runs, driving back and forth past the empty storefront trying to get a feel for where he should place the signage. His mind wandered, though, now coming to the conclusion that he was going to have to dip back into his money market funds to complete the build-out of the franchise.

  He made his decision to help Keith Michaels, and now he was moving forward, putting the negative thoughts of losing the $45,000 behind him. He had to if he wanted to make any of this work in order to get on Amy’s good side. And really, who was he kidding - neither the Vicodin nor the $45,000 he received for selling it was his anyway.

  John pulled his car onto a side street and maneuvered a quick U-turn, ready to drive past the empty storefront once more. But he was instantly yanked from his daydreaming by the sight of Lou, the Dink’s Diner owner, armed with a .357 revolver in hand, stepping from his car and angling across the rear parking lot of the cheap motel.

  John knew that Lou was a miserable human being, but he didn’t like seeing anyone in this much distress. The man looked like he was on the verge of tears. John screeched his car to a halt, cutting Lou off from the building.

  Lou knew in his heart that Rita was not willingly waiting in the room. He had watched as Enright left his diner and caught up to, and surprised, Rita outside the Superstar’s Coffee Shop. He sensed immediately they were not friends.

  Growing up in Greece, he knew plenty of operators like Enright - guys always angling for more, always on the take, always looking to screw someone over for their own gain.

  Lou had followed Rita, after Enright left her near the train station, to the cheap motel. The moment she stepped up to room 115 with a long face, he knew she was not here of her own accord.

  And now he was so focused on the murderous task of taking Enright out that it took him a full two seconds before he could recognize that it was John who had stopped him in his tracks, jumped from the old station wagon and disarmed him.

  “You asshole! Give me gun.”

  “Lou, what’s going on? What are you doing?”

  “Taking care of my family. Now give me gun!”

  Both men froze when they heard the distinct sound of a shotgun wracking a round into the chamber.

  “Uncle Lou, step away,” said Tyler as he pointed the shotgun at John’s left ear.

  “Tyler, why you do this? What’s the matter?” said Lou.

  “Hi, Tyler. Nice to meet you,” was all John could muster as he looked, literally, down the barrel of the massive gun.

  “Shut the hell up, man. I know what you did. You ruined him. He’s never gonna be the same.”

  Lou took a small step toward his nephew and said, “Please, give me the gun. You don’t want to hurt this man.”

  “He’s the one, Uncle Lou. He’s the guy who robbed pop’s place – he’s the Baby Face Robber.”

  Lou slowly turned toward John, his face contorting in anger. John, in total surrender, carefully handed the .357 revolver back to Lou. “I don’t know what he’s talking about,” said John sheepishly.

  “All he does now is look at the walls, man. You messed him up!” said Tyler as he edged even closer to John. John closed his eyes awaiting his fate.

  “Tyler!”

  John opened an eye to see a pretty woman in her thirties running at full sprint toward the muscular teenager. Tyler faltered and lowered the gun just an inch.

  “Put that away,” said Rita, finally noticing her other son Christopher sleeping in the maroon Jeep. “What is wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with me? Why in the hell are you following Enright? Huh, mom? I hired him to find this dude so I could kill him. You know what he did to our family!”

  “Mom?” said John.

  “Honey, you’ll ruin your entire life. Please, this has gone too far. Put it down. Give it to me.”

  Ty
ler raised the gun again – ready to take John’s head off. John didn’t close his eyes, but he did smirk.

  “What so funny,” said Lou.

  John nodded to the other side of the parking lot. Jimmy aimed his AR-15 rifle from across the hood of his Balmoral Police cruiser. “Let’s all drop ‘em. Drop ‘em now!” said Jimmy.

  ***

  Enright had seen enough to prove that his hypothesis about John being the Baby Face Robber and his cop brother, Jimmy, working as his accomplice was spot on.

  Through a two-inch-wide gap in the curtains of room 115, he could see it all play out. The crazy, diner owner with his chrome-plated cannon in hand, the hulking teenager pointing the shotgun at John’s head, the kid’s mom, who had rushed from the same room just moments before he could wet his wick, pleading with her kid to put the gun away. And now the Balmoral copper ready to take them all down with one short burst from the AR-15 in his hands. It cemented all of his work up to this point.

  Enright knew exactly where John lived, and with everyone tied up in the parking lot, he made his exit through the small bathroom window, squeezing his bulk through the opening and scurrying on foot toward Coleridge Avenue to see if he could locate some of the robbery proceeds. He’d deal with the mother and the restaurant owner later. From his past experiences, blackmail, most times, was best served lukewarm.

  CHAPTER 37

  Enright jogged past the BMW dealership, where inside, Mr. James, the manager, now sporting two black eyes from the broken nose Amy provided him, was showing a new 5-series to an athletic looking 40-year-old man. Mr. James pointed at Enright as he moved past the front windows.

  “So, yeah, she pops me in the nose. Broke it, too. But that’s not the weirdest part of my week. A few days later I get that guy right there coming in asking all sorts of questions. Thought he was a cop like you.”

  Mr. James noticed the uncomfortable expression that the man shot his way. He read from the police badge attached to his belt loop under his sport jacket.

  “Paladin PD, huh? So that guy…I thought he was a…police officer.”

  “What was he asking?” said the Paladin officer, a guy named Shane Thompson, as he tried to get a look at Enright, who was completely out of view now.

  “Kept asking about the Baby Face Robber.”

  This spun Thompson on his heels, his interest and piercing eyes all on Mr. James. “Baby Face Robber? What did he want to know from you? Tell me exactly.”

  Mr. James was a little fearful of Thompson now. “He asked if there was anyone in Balmoral who I thought could do something stupid.”

  “Stupid? Like rob a place?”

  “Actually, he asked if I were to think of one name right off the top of my head of anyone in town who could be the Baby Face Robber, who would that be? So I told him.”

  ***

  Danny was chilling on a bench when he saw all the shit going down at the cheap motel bordering the park.

  The fat, older dude squeezing out of the small, bathroom window made him laugh out loud, it was that comical. He watched as the fat dude jogged toward town. He knew that he came from the room where the dark-haired lady had gone earlier.

  Once Jimmy the cop had pulled that big automatic rifle on the group in the back parking lot, things settled rather quickly. The big kid, who was about Danny’s age, had placed the shotgun on the ground, and the guy who owned the diner had done the same with his revolver.

  Jimmy had lowered his gun and gathered all the players into a circle to converse. What Danny thought could become an action packed scenario, complete with shots fired at close range, had quickly deescalated into a regular old conversation. B-o-r-i-n-g.

  Danny decided that there may be more action in following the fat, older dude who was now moving past the BMW dealership, so he paralleled Route 14 on a side street and shadowed the guy.

  As they came to the town’s center, Danny had the sinking feeling that the guy was heading to John’s house. That would make sense since he first noticed the guy when he was following John earlier in the week. Was he a cop? Was John about to get arrested? Was Danny’s chance of robbing someone with the Baby Face Robber going down in flames?

  The fat, older dude kept walking south on Balmoral toward Coleridge, so Danny took a right on Trussell and sprinted to Lilly where he took a left.

  As Enright quickstepped toward the intersection of Coleridge and Lilly, he was smacked square in the face with a thick mud ball. By the time the surprise and initial sting wore off, Enright could see Danny standing a few houses away. There was a running water hose snaked between his feet, and he was holding yet another mud ball.

  “Hey, dick-stick! Nice face,” said Danny, laughing.

  Enright, wiped the gritty mud from his left eye and immediately gave chase. Danny waited until Enright was within 30 feet before he turned and took off back toward Trussell.

  Danny kept going west on Trussell toward Dundee. As he neared the intersection, he saw John’s car, followed by a maroon Jeep and Jimmy the cop in his police car – all of them driving past on Dundee heading toward John’s house.

  Enright saw the same thing and broke off the chase, did a U-turn and headed toward John’s house back the way he came. Danny stopped and walked to a house mid-block and snuck his way through the yard to get a vantage point on John’s house.

  By the time Danny got into a viewing position, and had his eyes on John’s place, he could see Enright sneak into the garage and out of view. John and the rest of the people formerly at the cheap motel, stepped from their various cars and walked into John’s house through the front door.

  ***

  Enright moved with cautious purpose, opening cabinets, and drawers in the garage, hoping to find something incriminating that would solidify his hunch about John. He could hear raised voices, mostly the Greek guy who owned the diner, coming from the house. But every time the Greek raised his voice, he could also hear a low and measured reply by the one he knew as John.

  Enright inched toward the window on the side of the garage and could just get a glimpse of John, palms out, speaking in a calm manner to the others in attendance in his kitchen.

  Enright went back to opening any storage area he could, including the large freezer positioned in the corner of the garage. The freezer was stocked full of frozen pizza boxes, but he couldn’t find anything other than normal, garage items elsewhere. As he leaned against the freezer, though, he caught a glimpse of something made of clear plastic peeking from its hiding place above the cabinets.

  His hopes were raised as he reached up and came back down holding a baby face mask.

  CHAPTER 38

  It was the first he had heard about the problem with the high school gym’s foundation and how it was in need of urgent repair.

  The old-timers, especially Emil, were speaking in hushed tones about the topic at hand, but made sure every so often to raise their voices loud enough so that John would hear.

  John knew what they were doing. It was the old-timers way of saying “If you hadn’t burned down the old place with its fortress of a foundation, we wouldn’t be having this problem now.”

  John’s head was nearly 100 percent clear. The back and hip pain was searing, but this new clarity also helped with his fading intent on embarrassing the Balmoral townspeople. As John breakfasted in Dink’s Diner, free of Lou’s disapproving looks and remarks, he was much more attuned to the goings-on around him.

  “You didn’t guess,” said Larry.

  “Raw garlic? No, roasted garlic.”

  “You’re good, man,” said Larry, heading back into the kitchen where Dwayne was doing dishes. John finished up his meal, stood and stepped toward Lou who was standing at the front register. Lou didn’t quite smile, but he didn’t sneer, either; he just nodded for John to go – breakfast was on the house.

&nb
sp; Larry and Dwayne saw the exchange between Lou and John from the kitchen pass-through. Larry shrugged to Dwayne, and Dwayne went back to scrubbing over-easy egg yolks off of plates.

  ***

  Before driving to the high school to witness for himself the waning foundation situation, John had driven, first, past the Athenian in Paladin or Arlington Heights or wherever. Next he slowly rolled past the spa with the fake-sounding, French name in that wide-arching Lifestyle Center in Deer Park.

  Along with his clearer mind, regret was also churning deep in the recesses of John’s brain. An hour and a half later, he found himself walking through the lobby of the upscale hotel in Lake Geneva.

  He had to drive past and stop into each and every place he had robbed to see if the people inside each business were getting back to normal. He wanted to make sure that he hadn’t permanently damaged anyone.

  And by the looks of things at each place, everything was moving along just fine. The only place he was unable to confirm that life hadn’t gone on as normal was at the dentist’s office in Lake Zurich. That office seemed to have closed up overnight. There was no sign of life in the darkened building. Even the dentist’s name had been scraped from the glass door.

  But now, parked in the massive parking lot of Balmoral High School, shadowed by the equally enormous football stadium, John could only stare in silence.

  Road hazard horses had been placed all around the gymnasium building keeping people away. A hard hat-wearing engineer stood next to the building making notes on a clipboard. As another engineer stepped towards the first one, they both spoke and made grand hand gestures, as if describing the way the entire building would cascade to the ground if one more crack formed in the weakening foundation.

  That’s when John drove away, heading toward the old carpet store on Route 14. He had an appointment with the owner about leasing the building for his Kid Crew venture.