Evidently, my introspection was taking too long for Moe because he interrupted my thoughts, “Boss. Yu ain’t answered me. Who did this? Yu knows. I knows yu do. Was it something to do with one of them women yu always running arounds with?”
I eased back in my chair a bit, “I do have a theory, but I need to do some checking around first before I say anything. At first, I did think it may have been related to me being somewhere I shouldn’t have been, but I’m not so sure now. I think it may be something entirely different. I promise I’ll tell you what I think as soon as I check out a couple of theories.”
“I’m gonna hold yu to that promise Boss. I sure is.”
“Fair enough Moe. And Moe, thanks. Thanks for being here for me. I really appreciate it.”
Moe stood to leave, “Nothing to it Boss, that’s what family does. Watches out for each other. Yu watched out for Sissy. Now we watch out for yu.”
Damn, he used the same word I had been thinking earlier . . . family. A few months ago I would never have thought of the people who circulate around Cap’s as anything close to a family, but maybe I just wasn’t seeing what was right in front of my eyes.
As Moe reached the door I said, “Moe, do me a favor. I’m telling you that I’m going to get somebody in here to fix our security cameras, but we both know I sometimes let things slide. You stay on me until I get it done. Okay?”
His face brightened, “Yu gots it Boss. I’ll stay right on your ass. And I’ll be on your ass to tell me who yu thinks did this to yu.” With that, he was out the door.
I was only alone with my thoughts for a couple of minutes before Sissy returned. She was probably only waiting downstairs until she saw Moe come down. She took the chair Moe had just vacated, “So what secret did Moe have to tell you that he didn’t want me hearing?”
I chuckled, “I don’t think it was secret. He wanted to tell me about checking the security cameras at the marina like he did when we were protecting you. He was probably afraid that mentioning that would dredge up bad memories for you.”
Sissy cocked her head, “For such a big lug, he sure is sensitive of others.”
“It seems so.”
With that, Sissy abruptly stood and said, “Okay young man, it’s time for you to get to bed. You heard the doctor, the best thing you can do is rest.”
“Damn, an hour ago you were my wife, now you’re my mother. What are you some kind of shapeshifter?”
“Don’t you wish it was that simple. No back talk now. Let’s get you ready for bed.”
Cautiously, I stood, “I can take care of myself. You need to get going so you can get some rest. You must have class tomorrow.”
Sissy put her hand under my elbow like you do for an infirm person, “I’m staying here tonight. I don’t have class until tomorrow afternoon. I’m staying here with you.”
“You don’t need to stay with me. I’ll be fine. I can’t get into any trouble here. Besides, you don’t have any of your stuff with you. You know, makeup and clothes. All that stuff you used to drag back and forth when you were staying here.”
“Jack, you don’t even know what’s going on in your own home. I have a well stocked drawer in your bathroom and a whole drawer of clothes in your bureau. I want any other woman, who thinks she’s got clear sailing to move in here, to know someone else still has at least a partial claim to the territory. I’m staying and that’s final. Marge and I decided someone needed to stay with you and I lost the coin toss.”
I was surprised to learn that Sissy still kept personal items here and wasn’t certain what to make of the “partial claim” comment so I just let it slide by. I grinned, “You mean I almost got Marge up here for the night. Damn my luck anyway. First beat up and then miss out on Marge staying with me.”
“Sorry to burst your bubble big boy. Marge and I did talk about me staying with you tonight, but there was no coin toss. No way I’d let you get a night with her. One night with Marge and I’d never be welcome in your bed again.”
I stopped the slow shuffle we were making toward the bedroom and turned toward Sissy, “About tonight. I don’t think I’m up to my usual amazing performance.”
Sissy was suddenly serious, taking my face in her hands as she had in the hospital, “Jack . . . Jack, sometimes you’re such a guy. Sex is the last thing on my mind tonight. I’m sleeping in the second bedroom. Even without us attempting anything, the last thing you need is me rolling over in my sleep and thumping you in the ribs. I’m here because I care about you. I care about you whether we ever have sex again. You need to get that through that thick head of yours. People care.”
I restarted the shuffle, “Okay, but I get a raincheck.”
Sissy scoffed, “Yes Jack, you get a raincheck.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
I must say it was nice having Sissy stay. She made certain I took the prescriptions we had obtained at the hospital pharmacy. Even with the pain meds I didn’t sleep very well. I just couldn’t get comfortable for more than a few minutes at a time. Getting up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night was a major production. Funny how we take so many of the simple things in life for granted. In the future, I’ll remember to be more appreciative of the ability to get up and use the bathroom at night without really waking up.
Awaking from one of my short sessions of actual sleep, I smelled coffee. Even if Sissy wasn’t so good looking, so great in bed, witty, and caring, she would be a hell of a catch because she makes such great coffee. I don’t know what it is about the simple action of brewing a pot of coffee, but she just has a knack. Must be coffee karma. The aroma of Sissy’s coffee made me glad I’d lived through the night. My too sudden attempt to get out of bed made me reexamine that thought.
Finally, I was able to get off the bed and into a standing position. I just stood for a few seconds letting the pain settle down. On reflection, I decided that a large portion of what I was feeling was stiffness from not moving and from holding myself so tense in an effort to avoid the pain. That revelation made me feel a little better, so I started the Jack Nolan shuffle toward the kitchen.
Sissy was standing in the kitchen with her back to me. She was barefooted wearing one of the oversized tee shirts I’d seen her in so many times when we were hiding out in Lighthouse Point and later when she was living here with me. Experience told me that she wore nothing under it. The pain resulting from the simple task of just getting out of bed told me I wasn’t going to do anything about that. I needed to remember to ask for another raincheck.
We drank a couple of cups of coffee and then Sissy made us some kind of breakfast drink from a box of packets she had stocked when she was staying here. I was intrigued watching her make it in the blender. I didn’t even know I owned a blender. I really need to get more involved in my own upkeep. I once thought of myself as a darn self-sufficient guy. I even did a fair amount of the cooking when Katharine and I were married. I did a lot of things when we were still married I don’t do now.
After breakfast, Sissy helped me take the wrap off of my ribs so I could take a shower. The doctor told me I could take the wrap off and leave it off if I didn’t think it helped alleviate the pain. The shower felt great. It seemed to melt away some of the stiffness in my back and neck. I actually felt enough better by the time I got out of the shower that I opted to leave the wrap off.
Getting dressed was a larger project than I remember from my pre-beating life. I ended up sitting on the edge of the bed to get my legs into my pants. Probably how eighty year old guys do it. Not something I’m going to need to worry about at the rate I’m living. Even with the extraordinary exertion of dressing, all in all, I was feeling better.
Sissy told me that she was going to go downstairs to cover a shift for the girl who was supposed to open with Marge but had called in because her son was sick. She wasn’t wearing the same clothes she had on yesterday, so I guess she does have clothes somewhere here. I told her I was going to have another cup of coffee and then wander downstairs myself
. This earned me a scowl and a stern, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
I deflected with, “Well, I’ll see how I feel later. I won’t come down if I don’t think I’m up to it.”
With that, Sissy opened the door and called over her shoulder, “I’ll see you downstairs in a little while. You hard head.”
“Really. Really. . . I don’t know which role you’re in at the moment, but this is borderline spouse abuse or child abuse. One or the other. Do you hear me?” Of course she was half-way down the stairs behind the closed door and didn’t hear a word I said.
It was about 11:30 a.m. when I ventured downstairs. The journey down didn’t seem too taxing, but I was mindful that the return trip up might not be as simple.
I carefully climbed up onto my favorite stool at the end of the bar. Sissy was behind the bar and as soon as she saw me she poured a coffee and set the mug in front of me. She gave me an appraising look and asked, “Did you take the two pills I left on the table?”
“Yes Mom, or is it Darling? Are you my mother, or my wife, today?”
Sissy leaned in close across the bar, “Listen, smart ass, if you don’t like the way I’m doing my job I can always defer to Marge.”
I held my hands up in surrender, “You’re doing a wonderful job and I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart.” Looking at the coffee, “I was thinking about having a Landshark. You know just one.”
Shaking her head, “No. First of all there is no ‘just one’ with you and secondly, you’re not drinking until you no longer need the pain pills. That’s final. Do you want something from the kitchen? That shake we had this morning must be wearing a little thin by now.”
“Not just yet. I’m really not that hungry. Maybe in a little bit. I’ll just have my coffee. Thanks.”
Sissy turned and started toward the other end of the bar where a couple of regulars were sitting down, calling over her shoulder, “Just holler if you want something.”
I nodded toward the two regulars and gave them a small wave as if I knew who they were. I was totally clueless about who they were, beyond the fact they looked familiar. I was certain they came in regularly. Hence my title for them!
I had taken a couple of sips of my coffee, wishing it was Landshark, when the back door opened and PJ walked in. She spoke to Sissy at the other end of the bar for a few seconds but made her way directly down to my end of the bar. With a warm smile, “Hi Jack. How are you feeling?”
She was dressed in her usual attire of a dark pants suit and crisp white blouse. As always, she radiated a natural beauty. Still, it was those green eyes that never failed to capture me. I always felt like they were looking deep into my soul. She must be one hell of an interrogator. I replied, “Hi PJ. Actually, I’m feeling better all the time. I think getting up and coming down here was good,” nodding toward Sissy, “in spite of what Attila the Hun down there thinks.”
PJ’s smile widened a bit, “She’s just worried about you.” Looking away momentarily, “Lot’s of people are worried about you.”
I was hoping she was referring to herself and was trying to come up with a witty comeback when Sissy broke the moment by setting a glass of iced tea down on the bar near PJ. Sissy asked, “Are you going to have lunch PJ?”
PJ replied, “I sure am. I’m famished. I had to get Angela to school early this morning for a field trip and missed my breakfast.”
Sissy asked, “How is the teenager these days?”
Smirking PJ said, “Oh she’s great. Her biggest challenge is figuring out how she became so brilliant when her mother is so dumb.”
Sissy and I chuckled, although since neither of us had kids I’m not certain we could truly relate to PJ’s plight. PJ turned to me, “Jack, can you join me for lunch?”
Is the Pope a Catholic? “Love to join you for lunch. I was just thinking that I was getting hungry myself.” Gesturing toward the bar stool next to me, “Have a seat.”
PJ pointed toward the booths along the wall, “Mind if we take a booth. Mid-day and still working, I just feel more comfortable in a booth than at the bar. Don’t need some offended citizen making a complaint to the LT.”
I rotated my stool and slid off, landing a little too hard. The ribs are getting better but they have a long way to go. Of course that was nothing in comparison to the pain elicited from the twisting motion in sliding into the booth. Regardless, it was well worth it to have lunch with PJ.
PJ ordered a salad and I ordered a bowl of seafood chowder. Juan had recently added a new recipe for seafood chowder to the menu and it was actually pretty darn good. After ordering, PJ wrapped me in those eyes and said, “Jack, I’ve read the report on your assault. I stopped in yesterday and spoke to Juan and Marge, Sid was off, but I doubt his recollection of events differs appreciably from Juan’s. I have a pretty good picture of what happened to you. What I’m interested in is hearing your theory on why it happened.”
“Wow PJ, that’s a lot of effort on a simple assault. I know you have lots on your plate, homicides and such.”
“No big deal. Besides, I can always claim the ‘broken window theory.’ You know, if a business owner isn’t safe on his own property what does that say for our city.”
“I appreciate your efforts PJ, I really do. I just don’t want some other victim to get shortchanged just because we’re friends.”
She was showing me her cop face when she said, “Why don’t you just tell me why you think it happened. It certainly wasn’t random. Those guys targeted you specifically and they were sending you a message. What do you think the message was? And who do you think the message came from?”
I was now very uncomfortable and it wasn’t my ribs, “Well, some people, the officer that took the report at the hospital included, probably think it was a message sent as a result of some indiscretion or another in my social life.”
Nary a muscle twitched on PJ’s cop face, “I’ve heard that theory mentioned, although you need to know that unsubstantiated speculation like that would never appear in the report.”
“Oh, I’m not worried, my reputation in that regard probably can’t be tarnished any more than its current dismal condition. To be honest, that was my first theory too, but taking into consideration another recent event I’m inclined to think it may be something even more serious.”
The slightest twinge of concern crossed the cop face, “Really. What is your theory?”
I related the story about our problems with the produce delivery on the same day as my assault and PJ asked, “You think the two are related?”
Just then our lunches arrived. We settled into eating for a few minutes and than PJ said, “You were going to tell me how you think your assault and the issue with your produce delivery are related.”
I put down my spoon and looked directly at PJ, “It may sound a bit dramatic but I think they both may be related to the visit I had the other day from Anthony Bracchi. I think he may be sending me a message that says bad things will happen if I don’t do business with him. Maybe I’m crazy, but I have this nagging feeling that they are all related.”
PJ shook her head, “I don’t think you’re crazy. That was precisely the conclusion I came to. Too much coincidence to not be somehow related.”
I was surprised that PJ knew about the problem with the Williams Brothers delivery but then I remembered she mentioned talking with Marge. Marge must have mentioned it. I wondered if others at Cap’s had come to the same conclusion. If so, that would not be good. Who wants to work at a place where organized crime is trying to take over? Tough enough to get good help as it is without that kind of a rumor. I asked PJ, “Do you think Marge sees the same thing?”
She smiled, “Jack, you and I have been trained to recognize a pattern in seemingly unrelated random events. I’m sure you saw that in lots of cases in your days as a prosecutor. Most people in society, such as Marge, don’t see the pattern. It’s a forest and trees thing. Most people see individual trees, we see a forest.”
; I really liked the fact that PJ was lumping me into the same category with her. Any day she saw us in the same light was a good day in my book. Almost, maybe not quite, worth the beating. I asked, “So you think Bracchi may be behind it?”
PJ pursed her lips, “It’s a theory worth poking around. I talked to the Williams Brothers driver this morning. He obviously took the threat very seriously. I think he was hoping that everyone, his boss included, would just chalk up the late delivery to a mistake. He doesn’t want to get crosswise with his boss, but he was certainly afraid of the guys who stopped him. His description fit the vague description you gave. Couple of big goons. Just like the guys who comprise the entourage that usually travels with Bracchi.”
I didn’t know if I was relieved, or not, that PJ had come to the same conclusions I had. It was good to know that I wasn’t just being paranoid, but on the other hand, it was not good to think I might actually be facing a problem like this. This is the stuff of television shows, not appropriate for my actual life. Obviously, PJ was taking it seriously, otherwise she wouldn’t have already interviewed the delivery driver. I asked, “What do we do now?”
“I’m going to talk to our organized crime guys this afternoon. See what they think about our theory. See what ideas for strategy they have.”
I wasn’t certain I liked the sound of that. I know what kind of ideas the OC guys will have. They will want to set a trap to snare Bracchi. The only problem with that strategy is that I will likely be the bait. I saw too many instances in the Detroit area where the bait ended up severely nibbled before the fish was hooked. Worse yet, the fish sometimes got away to return and destroy the bait at a later date. There was nothing about Jack as bait that I found attractive. I replied haltingly, “Okay . . . let me know what they say.”
Nimble Be Jack: A Jack Nolan Novel (The Cap's Place Series Book 2) Page 6
