Today’s results of this somewhat misspent Saturday night included a serious case of cotton mouth and a splitting headache. The headache was bad enough that it distracted me from my ribs. While the coffee brewed, I drank a quart of water and downed a couple of ibuprofen. I’d need to wait until I got downstairs to get anything to eat, because I just couldn’t face one of the breakfast shake mixes Sissy had stocked for me. Heaven forbid that I should ever keep real food in stock.
I took my coffee out onto the balcony, that runs across the back of my apartment, and gazed out over the boats in the marina toward the Atlantic. The sky was a muted shade of blue gravitating toward turquoise with a bank of puffy white clouds suspended just above the horizon. One lonely fishing trawler was gliding southeast across my vista. A thought slowly manifested itself in my mind. Such a beautiful tranquil picture, I sure wish I had someone to share it with. That led me to a reflection I always did everything I could to avoid. How did I fail Katherine as a husband? I must have done, or failed to do something, that caused her to cheat on me. Maybe if I’d been willing to talk to her, even once, after I caught her cheating I’d have gotten some clue. I’d fled here to Florida turning my back on everything having to do with my life back in Michigan. Our divorce was accomplished long distance through attorneys and I never spoke with her again. As I see it, I never will.
I realized that in addition to cotton mouth and a headache, my hangover had given me a mild case of depression. I refilled my coffee cup and headed to the shower. Today’s a new day and I needed to be ready to embrace it. At least survive it!
After my long shower and a third cup of coffee, I felt human again. The headache was fading and I was pleased to note that my ribs were only moderately tender this morning. Following the doctors orders and avoiding alcohol had probably significantly delayed my recovery. I dressed and headed downstairs.
The guys who were going to install the additional taps arrived and I showed them the areas they’d be working in. One of them seemed very familiar with our layout and I realized he must have assessed the job to give Marge the price quote. Wonder where I was when that all went on?
I wandered into the kitchen and made myself a fried egg sandwich for breakfast. I was careful to thoroughly clean up after myself. No sense in sending Juan into a tirade on such a beautiful day. I knew that if anything was out of place when he arrived, I’d hear about it.
After making a pot of coffee on the brewer behind the bar, I went out to the street and picked up a Sunday edition of the Sun Sentinel from the box. I settled in at a table in the center of the floor with my coffee and newspaper. I’d just finished the sports section when the back door opened. At first, I didn’t pay any attention as the guys working on the installation of the taps had been going in and out constantly, but I sensed a presence nearing my table and looked up to see PJ.
It took my mind a couple of seconds to process the scene. PJ entering Cap’s at this time of day on a Sunday just didn’t compute. At first I thought maybe she’d worked all night, was driving by, saw the activity and stopped in, but that didn’t fit because she was dressed in shorts, a tee shirt, and sandals. Certainly not her standard cop attire. Then I thought maybe something bad had happened to someone from Cap’s and she was here to tell me personally. Before I could continue my analysis of the situation she smiled and said, “Hi Jack, I heard you’d be here this morning. Thought I’d stop in and chat.”
Folding up my paper and indicating the chair across from me I started stammering, “Great to see you. Startled me. At first I thought maybe something was wrong. You know . . . this time on a Sunday morning. Would you like a cup of coffee? Of course not. You don’t drink coffee. A Coke? Anything?”
PJ chuckled as she sat down and replied, “Thanks Jack, but I’m fine. Hope you don’t mind me barging in on your Sunday morning.”
“Are you kidding? You’re the best thing that’s happened to me today.”
PJ blushed just a shade, “Well, it’s not exactly a social call.” The blush faded and her face tightened noticeably, “There is something I need to talk to you about. I thought this would be a good time, when no one’s around.”
I should have known what was coming, but I didn’t, “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
Now the cop, “I thought we had an agreement. I thought you were going to call me if you heard from Anthony Bracchi again.”
How in the world did she know so soon? Neither Sissy or Marge were here yesterday afternoon or evening. Who could have told her? I started stammering again, “How did you know? It was only yesterday.” I lied, “I was going to call you Monday. Didn’t want to bother you on your weekend.”
She wasn’t buying my weak lie, “Jack, you know better than that. That’s why you have my cell number, so you can call me anytime. That’s the arrangement we had when you were protecting Sissy and that’s the arrangement we have now. You know that.”
I figured my best tactic at this point was to just tell the truth, “Okay, I should have called. I just needed time to think. I know what you guys want, you want me to wear a wire and try to get Bracchi to say something incriminating. I get it. I just don’t know if that’s in my best interest in the long run. Even in the best interest of Cap’s.”
Sparks shot from those beautiful green eyes, “You think Cap’s would be better off with Bracchi calling the shots?”
I shot back, “That’s not what I mean. What I mean is Bracchi could retaliate against Cap’s for whatever grief we bring him. How hard would it be for him to have this place burned to the ground? Make it an obvious arson, which means my insurance claim could be tied up for years. A bar burns and they always look to the owner as responsible.”
“Come on Jack, you really think that the investigators aren’t going to be looking at a retaliation motive when you’re a witness against a guy like Bracchi?”
“PJ, I’m not talking about the law enforcement investigators, I’m talking about the insurance company investigators. As soon as they can show an intentional fire, they can hold up any insurance claims and you know it. What happens to all of the people who work here? I came here with nothing but the clothes on my back, I’ll survive, but there are several people who depend on Cap’s for their livelihood. What happens to them?”
PJ cocked her head to one side, obviously contemplating what I’d said, “Jack, I think you’re blowing things way out of proportion. I think a likely outcome is that Bracchi becomes aware that you aren’t going to just roll over for him and that you’ve involved the authorities, so he puts as much distance between you and him as possible.”
Now it was my turn to reflect on her words, “If I was dealing with only you I’d feel comfortable that we could play it for that outcome, but once the OC investigators and prosecutors get even a small claw hold into Bracchi they’re going to want to hang on with all of their might. If for no other reason than to harass him. They look at these as wars of attrition. The more they throw at these guys, the greater likelihood something will stick. Who would have thought tax evasion would have brought down Capone? What I’m worried about is me, and Cap’s, becoming collateral damage in their little war.”
PJ pursed her lips, “Okay Jack, I hear you, but what’s your alternative? You going to go head to head with Bracchi? By the way, how are your ribs?”
“That was a low blow!”
Her face softened, “You’re right Jack. I apologize. You did nothing to bring that beating on yourself. I’m just afraid that if you try to go it alone against Bracchi you’ll get hurt worse. Much worse.”
Gently rubbing my side I smiled, “You’re not nearly as worried about me as I am.”
PJ was gazing at me with an expression I just couldn’t read. I wanted to believe the expression said she cared about my safety more than she would for just another citizen she was sworn to protect. I wanted to believe her feelings crossed the boundary from professional to personal. I just didn’t know if what I saw was real or just me being wishful.
PJ nodded in agreement, “I understand. Let’s do this. Let’s you and I sit down with the OC guys and see what they have to say. See what tactics they do propose. At least listen to their pitch. You can make your own assessment of both the people and their tactics at that point. If you still don’t feel comfortable, you can walk away.”
I chuckled, “If your goal is that I feel comfortable, we might as well save our time. Nothing about this mess is comfortable.”
The smile was back, “You’re right. Poor choice of words. We’ll aim for something less than comfortable.”
Retreating from the serious I said, “I know what would make me feel comfortable. If I had around-the-clock protection by someone experienced in keeping people safe from mobsters. Like the kind of protection you gave Sissy when she testified against that Russian. Plenty of room upstairs, you can just move in. I’d feel much safer with you living here with me.”
Without even a flinch, PJ responded, “That sounds like a great idea. How are you with teenagers anyway? Could be mutually beneficial, you have live-in protection and I have live-in teenager monitoring.”
I’d never met PJ’s daughter Angela, but Sissy mentioned her often. I struggled for a witty comeback but couldn’t come up with one so I just went with stream of consciousness, “If Angela is anything like her mother I’m sure she’d be a pleasure to have around.”
A smile was born in PJ’s eyes and radiated across her face, “You know Jack sometimes you’re downright personable. Every once in a while I get a glimpse of what Sissy is always talking about.”
Now I was the one caught off guard, “Really? Some days I don’t think Sissy has much good to say about me.”
Another smile, “No luck fishing here Jack. What Sissy says to me is said under the covenant of girl talk secrecy.” Passing her fingers across in front of her lips, “These lips are sealed.”
Talking about Sissy reminded me I still didn’t know how PJ found out about Bracchi’s visit. It must not have been from anyone present at the time or she would probably have mentioned Moe’s confrontation with him. I asked, “How did you know Bracchi had paid me a visit?”
“Not rocket science Jack. Bracchi is under federal surveillance most of the time. A task force surveillance crew that includes one of our detectives followed him here Saturday. The detective knew I was working with you regarding Bracchi so he gave me a call last night. You see, some people do call.”
“Touché.”
Now the cop face returned, “While we’re on the subject, what did Bracchi say while he was here? Did he make threats?”
I wanted to walk the line here, I didn’t want to lie to PJ, but I also didn’t want to get into the whole mess regarding Moe and Justin. I replied, “Well, basically he said that he’s in a position to prevent problems such as the ones we had recently encountered. Since I hadn’t told him about any problems, his meaning was pretty obvious.”
PJ shook her head, “What was your response?”
Her question put me on a wire high over the Grand Canyon, I needed to stay on the wire to avoid falling into the canyon of lies, “I didn’t get a chance. Moe came out to talk about some problems we were having with the dishwasher draining and Bracchi said we would talk another time. He left.”
PJ squinted as if she was trying to understand what I’d just said, “You’re telling me that Moe interrupted you to talk about some mundane problem in the kitchen and Bracchi just gave up and left? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I don’t think he gave up, I just think he didn’t like the interruption. His parting words were something to the effect that we would take up the discussion another time . . . and another place. I certainly didn’t think he was giving up in his efforts to muscle in on Cap’s. I wish I did, but I don’t.”
PJ wrinkled her brow, “I guess that explains why he was here for such a short time. The surveillance crew was working on getting someone inside to take a look at what Bracchi was doing, but before they could he was on his way out. Did he talk to anyone else while he was in here?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
PJ paused, “I don’t really know. The guy that called me just asked me to ask you when I talked to you. I don’t really know why they would have thought Bracchi met with anyone else here.”
“No one else. I saw him walk in the door, saw him walk out the door, and the only person he spoke to while he was here was me. Lucky ‘Ol Me.”
PJ looked at her wristwatch, “Oh, I better get going. I have to pick Angela up. She stayed overnight with one of her friends. Don’t want her to wear out her welcome.”
I replied, “Probably not much chance of that. If they’re typical teenagers they probably aren’t even up yet. Sunday and all.”
“Wow, insight into teenagers I wouldn’t have expected.”
“Oh, I’m full of surprises.”
As she turned to leave, “I’ve never doubted your potential for surprises Jackson Nolan.” Pausing half-way to the door, “I’ll call you and set a meet with the OC guys.”
“Great. I’ll look forward to it.” I openly lied.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
After PJ left, I returned to reading the paper, but my mind kept straying back to her visit. For some reason, I was really troubled by the fact that I’d been less than forthright with her in recounting Bracchi’s visit. Yet, how could I tell her about Moe’s bravado without mentioning Justin’s presence? PJ would never believe that Moe alone drove Bracchi and his two thugs off, but if I mentioned Justin’s role, she would naturally become curious about him. I’d felt obligated to keep his role in protecting Sissy a few months ago in Lighthouse Point from PJ because he’d saved Sissy’s life. If PJ started digging she might discover the things Justin had done that I’d just as soon forget. I knew when I first protected him that I was on a slippery slope and now I felt myself picking up speed rushing downhill. What was even more frightening, was that I had no idea where this course led, I just knew it likely wasn’t a good place.
The other emotion I was feeling was simple disappointment. I always enjoyed PJ’s company. There was something about her. She was such a blend of people, running the gambit from tough cop to loving mother. Always a mixture of wit and intelligence, and all wrapped up in a very nice package. Sissy told me when I first met PJ, that she was out of my league and unfortunately, I know she’s right. I just can’t quit fantasizing. Of course, the fact that Sissy and PJ are friends, and Sissy and I played house for a short period after we came out of hiding, certainly didn’t enhance my future chances with PJ.
I’d gotten up to refill my cup from the pot behind the bar, when the back door opened and Liz walked in. She seemed startled to see me. I probably had an equally startled look on my face as I said, “Hi Liz. Surprised to see you in so early. We don’t open for over an hour.”
“I know, but this morning I’m doing the prep work. You know filling salt, pepper, ketchup, mustard, and rolling the napkins and silverware. That stuff.”
I shook my head, “You must be getting the hang of things or Marge wouldn’t have scheduled you to do prep alone.”
Liz smiled, “I guess so. Besides, she knows I need as many hours as I can get. She’s been really nice to me.”
I filled my cup, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“No thanks.”
Walking back toward my table I said, “If Marge is being nice to you it’s because you’ve earned it. You have experience working in a bar?”
Liz tilted her head just slightly, “Well, I did work in a bar off and on for a couple of years in college. You know one of those places where almost as much beer gets spilled as gets drunk. Not too challenging being a waitress there.”
I imagined the greatest challenge was fending off the drunks that hit on her. Her college
days were probably ten years back. I hadn’t asked Marge, but I guessed Liz was in her mid-thirties. She is still a knockout.
“When people start spilling more beer than they’re drinking around here Moe usually suggests they leave. Probably a by-product of having the guy who does the floors being the bouncer.”
Liz chuckled, showing the cutest dimples on both cheeks, “I imagine he does. Moe’s pretty protective of this place.”
Thinking to myself what an understatement that was I said, “Yeah, Moe runs a pretty tight ship. Fine with me. Bars tend to develop a personality. When my uncle opened this place he wanted it to be a friendly, casual place, reminiscent of the neighborhood corner bars he remembered growing up in Detroit.”
“Well, I’ve found it to be friendly. Everyone’s been great to me.”
In my role as the engaged business owner, “Good, glad to hear that.” Then I remembered her arriving on a bicycle when I first met her last Monday, “Do you live close? Ride your bike everyday?”
Her expression went blank, “It’s not far. I ride my bike or take the bus. Depends on how late I’m working.” Turning toward the kitchen, “I better get started.” She walked a couple of paces and then turned back, “Are you usually here on Sunday mornings, Jack? I thought Moe came in Sunday mornings. That’s why I was surprised to see you.”
Nimble Be Jack: A Jack Nolan Novel (The Cap's Place Series Book 2) Page 9
