by Nick James
“Oh, here, hon. Let me get you a little refill,” Emily said then took a sip of wine, set her glass on the coffee table, and took the glass from his hand. She walked toward the monitor, then stood almost directly below it. She was out of sight, but her voice was substantially louder, carrying on a conversation about local politics and a city council race. She tossed two ice cubes into the crystal glass and they sounded like a chime as they clinked off the side.
She strolled back into view, handed him his drink, and ran her hand across his shoulder, then back to his neck, traveling along his heavy jaw line as she strutted back to the corner of the couch.
“Say, would you mind?” she asked turning to face him. Then, without waiting for an answer, she unbuttoned her slacks at the hip and pulled the zipper down, revealing a tiny waistband on a light-blue thong. “Oh, that feels a lot better. I’m sorry, doll, but it’s after nine and I need to take it easy and enjoy myself.” She finished up with her patented shrug and little-girl smile, then sat back down on the couch in a practiced way that exposed her hip and that light-blue waistband.
Her guest took a large pull from his glass and nearly emptied it.
“Oh my, thirsty? This isn’t too much, is it?” she asked and then snapped the waistband, put a finger to her mouth, and gave another shrug.
For the first time he spoke, and he sounded familiar. “No, not a problem at all. In fact, I’m enjoying the view.”
“You don’t think I’m too forward?”
“Heavens, no. I’m just taking it all in.”
“Can I tell you a little secret?”
“Please,” he said and appeared to drain his glass.
“Promise you won’t think I’m crazy?’
He nodded.
“No, you have to say it. Come on, say it. I need to hear you.”
“Okay, I promise, I promise,” he laughed.
The voice. Bobby knew him, but from where?
“I’ve a thing for older men. Mature men. You’re just so easy to talk to, so safe, so solid. None of the bullshit. I can’t stand men my age. It’s just, well you’re so sexy. It’s, it’s just so sexy, so macho, all you’ve done, your success. Oh here, listen to me going on, I’m getting all flustered.” She was suddenly up and stepping toward him. “Let me freshen that up, doll,” she said then took the glass from his hand and disappeared from view.
The ice cubes chimed as they bounced into the glass. She kept up a steady delivery of her lines. Some of which she’d said to Bobby on more than one occasion. Her guest sat with his back to her, nodded in agreement to all the wonderful things she was saying about him.
When she stepped back into view, the slacks were gone. She still wore her blouse, but the way it flowed as she walked suggested it was unbuttoned. She toyed with her ear and handed him the glass. He casually glanced at her, then shot bolt upright in his chair and stared.
She ran her hand along a fold in his neck, then strutted back to the couch, lingered for a moment while he admired the view, then turned round. Her blouse was undone and her bra matched her thong. She moved halfway across the couch toward him as she sat down. “You don’t mind, do you? Am I too forward?”
He shook his head no.
“Good,” she said. “Finish up. There’s another room I want to show you.” Then she reached up and unhooked her bra in the front. Her breasts remained confined, at least for the moment. Her guest loudly gulped down the contents of his glass, then set the empty on the coffee table.
Emily stood, strutted toward him, then reached down and grabbed his necktie, using it like a leash over her shoulder as she led him off the chair. He turned to follow her toward the bedroom, facing the monitor device from the side.
Bobby sat at his kitchen counter stunned as Emily led Bennett Hinz into her bedroom.
Chapter Six
He debated for a moment about watching what was going to happen next. But only a moment. Then he quickly made sure the bedroom monitor was recording. By the time Emily entered the bedroom Bennett’s necktie was gone, his shirt was unbuttoned and his trousers were undone.
She was wearing just her thong and she had hold of his belt, leading him while at the same time slowly pulling the belt through the loops on his trousers. Bennett looked like a deer in headlights as she slipped his belt off, then wrapped it around his neck, and drew him close. She kissed him passionately, as he worked to push his trousers down and follow her around the far end of the bed. By the time she climbed onto the bed, she was laughing, genuinely, as Bennett was forced to take little steps because his trousers had fallen down around his ankles.
He kicked and stepped his way free of his trousers, then wrestled with his starched shirt, eventually pulling it off. In his haste to undress, he popped one of the buttons on his cuff. He stood before her in a wife beater t-shirt that was tucked into his plaid boxers. As he crawled up onto the bed, Bobby laughed out loud at the black knee-high socks held up by sock garters. Bennett half fell onto Emily and Bobby decided he would pour himself a drink, sit back, and enjoy the show.
He took a glass from the cupboard, threw two ice cubes into it, just like Emily had done for Bennett, then hurried into the dining room and his liquor cabinet. He filled his glass, took a sip, and walked to the front window staring down at the quiet street. He took a deep breath, then walked back to the kitchen to watch the show.
Bennett was laying back with his head on a pillow and a surprised look on his face. Emily was sitting up against the headboard grinning. “Wow, that was fast,” she said, then reached over to the bedside table and picked up her cellphone.
Bobby guessed it was picture time.
Chapter Seven
He took a brisk walk down to the office the following morning and was one of the first ones in. He left a note at the front desk for Marci telling her to direct his calls to the file room for the next few days. Then he scanned the internet for the next hour until Mike Dorsey arrived.
Bobby walked into the file room just as Dorsey pulled a brown lunch bag out of his briefcase.
“Can you stand me for a couple of days?”
Dorsey looked up and seemed momentarily embarrassed by the lunch bag. He quickly set the bag on his desk chair, then pushed the chair in. “Looking forward to it. It’ll be nice to have some company in this tomb.”
“Careful what you wish for,” Bobby said, then placed his yellow legal pad on the table in the far corner.
“Which file do you want first?”
“You know, as long as I’m staying in here, do you think you could just leave the drawers unlocked and I’ll grab them? I’m going to be doing a lot of back and forth and I’ll drive you crazy in the first fifteen minutes. You won’t be able to get a thing accomplished today.”
“Fine by me,” Dorsey said, then grabbed a ring of keys out of his desk drawer and unlocked the drawers holding Montcreff’s files.
“Thanks,” Bobby said, then pulled open the first drawer and grabbed a handful of files.
About mid-morning he sat back and moved his head from side to side, cracking his neck. Then he rolled his shoulders and stood up. “Say, Mike, can I use your phone for a moment?”
“Help yourself,” Dorsey said and placed another file on his four-wheeled cart. “I’ll be out of here in a minute if you need some privacy.”
“No, just touching base with the man himself, Morris Montcreff,” Bobby said then picked up the phone and dialed Montcreff’s number. He smiled at Dorsey while the phone rang, then listened to Montcreff’s voice growl, “Leave a message.” That in turn brought back the image of Montcreff, “Custer, Cus…”
“Hi, Mr. Montcreff, Bobby Custer just checking in at ten-twenty in the morning. Reviewing those files as you requested. Please don’t hesitate to call if I can be of any service,” he said then hung up.
“Mind if I ask you something?” Dorsey said. He pulled a file from a drawer, bounced it off the top of the cabinet a couple of times to sort of straighten the contents, then placed it on his c
art.
“No, what is it?”
“I’ve always wondered, what’s it like working with that guy?”
“Morris Montcreff?”
“Yeah, I mean how do you describe him? Colorful?”
“That would be one term,” Bobby joked and Dorsey laughed. “I know he’s got a reputation. There are a lot of things said about him and he can certainly push things to the absolute edge. But, he’s never been charged with anything and all these files, Noah Denton’s work, they’re textbook examples of how to handle complex issues.”
“He doesn’t creep you out?”
“He can be a little,” Bobby searched for the word. “He can be a little direct, but I’ll take that over someone going round and round and you’re supposed to figure out what they really want.”
Dorsey nodded, then directed his cart toward the door. “Just wondered,” he said, then wheeled the cart out of the room.
Bobby waited for a long moment, just in case Dorsey forgot something and returned. When he thought the coast was clear, he walked to the back of the file room and opened the door. It was a long storage closet with reams of paper, boxes of new files, pens, pencils and an artificial Christmas tree. More importantly, there was a copy machine. He closed the door and went back to his table.
Chapter Eight
Dorsey answered the phone just a little before the noon hour. “File room. Yeah, he’s right here. Okay. Put it through,” he said and hung up. “Call coming through for you, Mr. Custer,” he said. The phone rang a moment later.
“This is Bobby,” he said just after the third ring.
“Bobby, Luis. Meet us in front of your building,” Luis said, then hung up.
Bobby stood there with the phone up to his ear, nodding. “I don’t think that should be a problem. I’ll swing by and take a look. No, it’s not a problem at all. I’ll see you shortly,” he said to the dial tone, then hung up. “I’m going to have to get on my white horse and save the day for a client. I should be back this afternoon.”
“Enjoy,” Dorsey said without looking up from the stack he was refiling.
Bobby walked to his office and locked the door. He caught a glimpse of Bennett Hinz staring out the window with his hands locked behind his head, daydreaming. He stuck his head in the door. “Hi Bennett, how was your evening?”
Bennett turned in his chair and attempted to look busy, which was a tough act considering his desk was clear. After a moment he picked up his phone and smiled, looking like he was about to make a phone call. “The evening was exceptional.”
‘Just wait till she shows you the pictures she took,’ Bobby thought then smiled and said. “Have a nice lunch. I should be back after the noon hour.”
Before he made it to the elevator, Marci hung up the phone and asked, “Will you be back today, Mr. Custer?”
“I hope to be,” he said, then stepped on the elevator and made his escape before she could ask anything else. He walked out of the building and was immediately hit with a blast of heat from the sun reflecting off the windows of the building. The courtyard area was so hot not even the pigeons bothered to land there. He walked to the sidewalk and waited at the curb. A few minutes later, a black SUV turned the corner and pulled alongside. The guy in the passenger seat climbed out and stepped toward Bobby. He wore the standard uniform, cowboy boots, black jeans and a black t-shirt. The top of a tattoo that probably covered his entire chest appeared above the top of his t-shirt. What looked like ends of blue fingers or maybe rays from the sun or something rose up toward his neck. His dark hair was trimmed in a crewcut and Bobby recognized him as one of the men who’d watched as he shot Morris Montcreff.
He smiled and took a couple of steps toward Bobby, “You know, sorry,” he said then gave Bobby a quick pat down, but nowhere near as severe as the last few times. He nodded, then stepped back and opened the passenger door.
“Bobby,” Luis said as Bobby slid into the seat and buckled his seat belt. Luis extended his hand, they shook, and the car pulled away from the curb. “How are you my friend?”
“Good. I’ve just begun getting things lined up on the Montcreff files. There’s a lot to go over.”
Luis nodded.
“Have you given anymore thought to setting up a new firm?”
“What is there to think about?” Luis said.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to suggest it was a bad idea. Actually, I’d be honored. I’ve just been thinking of people who might be a good fit.”
“You have?” Luis sounded genuinely surprised.
“Yes, I’ve got two names, but I think I might be able to come up with a few more.”
“Let’s talk about it at the end of the week. Tell me, what do you hear from our friends, the police?”
“The police? You mean on the car bomb? Nothing yet, well, except they want me to call every day to check in with them. Sooner or later, I’m afraid they’re going to determine the identity of the woman.”
“That foolish Denton woman.”
“Yeah. In fact, I called her mother yesterday.”
“You called her mother?” There was a sense of alarm in Luis’s voice.
“Yeah, it would be the normal thing to do a day or two after the funeral. I didn’t mention the daughter, although she knew about the explosion and the fire.”
“How did she know?”
“Well, it was on the news. She didn’t mention her daughter. God, she didn’t even mention her husband. She just talked about how much fun she and her girlfriends had while they were here. The best way to not become involved any more than I already am is to continue my normal routine.”
Luis nodded.
“On that note, I’ve placed a couple of phone calls to Montcreff’s phone. Left messages just saying I’m checking in.”
“You left a message on his phone?”
“Yeah, nothing special. Just a touching base sort of thing.”
Luis yelled something to the two men in the front seat. The guy in the passenger seat turned round, shaking his head as he responded.
“Hmm, it would appear we never found his phone.”
“It rings about eight times then his voice comes on and he says, ‘Leave a message.’ I gotta tell you, he sounds pissed off and you’d think twice about leaving one.”
Everyone in the SUV laughed. By this time, they’d driven over to the east side, turned a corner off Arcade, and pulled to a stop halfway up the street.
The neighborhood was made up of nondescript, two-story wood frame structures built before the war. The First World War. The area had fallen on hard times and most of the front porches had two or three mail boxes hanging next to the door. More than one house was in dire need of a fresh coat of paint.
Both men in the front seat climbed out and opened the rear doors on the car. Bobby gave a questioning look to Luis.
“A lesson,” Luis said then smiled as he climbed out of the car. Bobby got out on his side and they walked up to the porch, opened the front door, and walked in. A stocky guy sat in a faux-leather recliner staring out the window. He nodded as they filed past, but didn’t say anything. They walked through a small dining room, a smaller kitchen, and then down a set of basement stairs.
The basement was damp, with a poured concrete floor and cinder block walls. There were two concrete laundry tubs sitting against a far wall between a white washer and dryer. The room was illuminated by a single bare light bulb and two men Bobby recognized from the other day stood beneath the bulb. They nodded at Luis then stepped aside revealing an old wooden chair. Seated on the chair was a very frightened looking Miguel.
The scene was eerily reminiscent of Morris Montcreff’s final minutes although Bobby noted there wasn’t a sheet of plastic covering the floor. He gave Luis a questioning look.
“The slut called him and he had her delivered. He let her into your place while you and your woman were…busy.”
Bobby shook his head. It wasn’t making sense.
“The Denton woman,” Luis said. �
�He put you at risk, it could have been a trap. Montcreff could have been behind it. He could have killed you, and all for just a piece of ass,” Luis said and looked down disgustedly at Miguel.
“But he didn’t kill me. I killed him,” Bobby said.
“Yes, but remember, you lied to me.”
What?”
“Bobby, Bobby, Bobby,” Luis patted him softly on the cheek. “You told me she was at your door. That you invited her in because she was drunk and you made her sleep on the couch. You lied to me.”
“But I was thinking of…”
“No, you lied to me, didn’t you?”
“I…”
“Go ahead, I won’t hurt you. You’re too important to me. But be honest, you lied to me, didn’t you?’
“Yes, I’m sorry, but I lied. I didn’t think…”
“Stop right there, that’s right, you didn’t think.” Luis turned and said something to one of the men who had been waiting for them in the basement. The guy reached behind and handed Luis a pistol.
Luis turned back and nodded at Miguel as he handed the pistol to Bobby. Miguel’s eyes grew wide as Luis looked at Bobby and said, “Prove to me I can trust you.”
“Now wait just a minute, Luis. I more than proved that the other night. Miguel made a mistake, I made a mistake, but I feel I’ve more than proven my loyalty to you. And with my help, great things are in store for you, for both of us.”
“So prove it,” Luis said, then indicated Miguel with a wave of his head.
Chapter Nine
Bobby swallowed, all sorts of thoughts were racing through his head, none of them making any sense. Miguel began to shake, tears ran down both his cheeks, and his bottom lip began to quiver.
