Disk of Death

by Kim Smith

  “Dwayne, I’m seriously wondering. Who is this guy and what does he want with me?”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ve been giving that some thought, myself. Why is he all up in your business acting pissy like a freaking jealous lover and y’all ain’t even been properly introduced?”

  “I don’t want to be properly introduced. I just want any of the freaking SD cards he might have taken. I just want to protect my damn reputation. God! Why can’t my life be simple?”

  He slurped his soup and didn’t answer.

  Something he had said struck a nerve. “He does act like a jealous maniac, doesn’t he?”

  Dwayne nodded, blowing on his soup to cool it. “You know…he kinda acts like you have something of his, and he’s gonna tear up everything he can, until you let go of it.”

  I considered this. “Yeah. He sort of does.” I paced around the room for a minute before stopping to place my hands on the edge of the table. “So…then maybe I should give it to him.”

  He clattered his spoon in the bowl. “Why do I feel like Ethel when Lucy says some shit like that?”

  “Probably because I’m conniving trouble and you’re my trusty sidekick, which means you’re going to be involved. Ricky ain’t gonna like this none, Ethel,” I said, shaking my head.

  He rolled his eyes. “Where’s Fred when I need him?”

  Chapter 18

  After we had eaten the whole pan of soup and were digging into a plate of brownies, I laid out my plan to Dwayne.

  “I’ll wait until this jerk calls again. Then I’ll tell him I have what he wants and that I’m ready to trade.”

  Dwayne tried not to laugh at that, but I saw his mouth twitch upwards. “And then what? Dude agrees to meet somewhere so y’all can swap his something for your movies?”

  “Yeah, basically.”

  “Oh hell naw. That means you gotta meet him alone. Uh uh.”

  “Dwayne, listen—”

  He scraped his chair back and took his arguing stance, arms crossed, chin down, eyes piercing mine with a blinding glare. I kept explaining to him how important it was for me to try. He ranted for ten minutes about telling the cops my plan, but I finally made him see reason. I had to keep the existence of those sex movies, as he called them, from Sal and his associates at all cost.

  He crossed his arms. “Fine, but Sal already has the notion that you and that missing card are somehow acquainted. The only way you can do this shit is if I’m there, too.”

  “Okay, how about this: you hide somewhere nearby with your gun trained on us. If this dumbass makes any dangerous moves, you can pop a cap in him.”

  He smiled. “All right! Now you’re talking.”

  I poured us each a glass of milk. We clinked glasses.

  “To a successful conclusion to this nonsense,” I said.

  “Yeah, and to us not getting our asses killed in the process.”

  When darkness approached, Dwayne decided to stay at my place for the night. I had a bad case of nerves, jumping at every little noise. The killer would try something if he knew I was alone. I felt it in my bones.

  Dwayne brought up a battered gym bag from his Mustang. I stood in the doorway laughing at him as he approached looking all innocent.

  “You never know when you might be asked to pull an all-nighter,” he explained.

  “And what do you keep in there, Mr. I-always-go-prepared?”

  He thought for a moment. “Um. Shaving goop, hair gel, boxers, you know, the usual stuff.”

  “Boxers?”

  “Hell yeah, I’m a boxer man. No whitey tighties for me. That is if I ain’t going commando.”

  “Whoa, stop. No more info. That’s just…enough.”

  While I waited for the mystery caller to dial me up for another taunting session, I planned on the meeting strategy. South Lake City Park would be a great place. It was a well-lit public area with a few good hiding places, so Dwayne could keep us in view.

  When I hadn’t heard anything by ten the next morning, I got antsy to go out. Dwayne sat, his lanky frame draped over my easy chair watching reruns of old game shows.

  I poked him as I passed. “Let’s go do something.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. How about the Redmon case?”

  “Yeah, shit, I need to be working.”

  “Okay, so let’s go. I can keep my phone handy. The jerk always calls me on it.”

  He flung his legs forward and stood. “Okay. It’s cool, ‘cause I think I know how to find out something out on this woman.”

  I listened as he told me about her and one of her employees, and how they always stood talking before and after work. He believed there was something going on.

  “Okay, so we follow them for a few hours and see what happens. Maybe they’ll decide to go to lunch together, and this time he gets thigh pie.”

  Dwayne tossed his keys into the air and caught them. “All I need is to catch it on my phone camera, and we’re in the money.”

  We drove into Memphis via Highway 78, the commercial truck route. Each side of it hosted big truck garages and commercial vehicle parking lots. The few gas stations along the way had lottery signs in the window.

  I smiled. I didn’t need the lottery. I’d won at the casino. But I still had no clue as to how to spend it. I might pay a few bills, but that seemed like such a waste.

  “What should I do with that five thousand dollars?” I asked as we sped down the road.

  “Why you asking me?”

  “Well, since you adamantly refuse to take it, I figured you had an idea.”

  “No, I don’t.” He sounded strange, and I gave him an appraising look.

  His eyebrows rose, and he tried to look innocent.

  “Come on, Dwayne, you have an idea of what I should do with that money; I can tell by the look on your face.”

  “No, I don’t. I only know what I would do with it if was my money.”

  “Which is?”

  “Get a business license and start a business.”

  “Can you even do that with such a measly amount?”

  He shrugged.

  I didn’t push the issue although I felt it was pretty unlikely that a mere five grand would be enough for such a lofty idea. Instead, I asked, “What kind of business? A PI business?”

  “Maybe, but really it could be any kind of business. Unless you want to work at a furniture joint all your life.”

  “I don’t know if I really have a job there anyway. Mr. Fine told me I did when I went to see him, but I don’t think I could work there again.”

  He wiped the back of his hand across his eyes tiredly. “I’m gonna get an office like you suggested. You want to invest in my business?”

  “Maybe.”

  We drove in silence for a while until Dwayne turned on the radio. The news segment touted the recent murder of Joseph Drury, the latest in a string of unsolved cases.

  “Yeah, right,” I moaned, flipping the station until music with a loud thumping beat wafted from it.

  “Well, Wall-ass, it is.”

  I frowned at him. “They make it sound like a damn serial killer is out there striking at random.”

  “They just don’t have any information from the police. The cops are keeping this shit close to their chest. They ain’t sharing much.”

  What could they say? It was one week today since I’d been fired from Fine Furnishings. In a matter of hours, it would be one week to the minute when Rick was stabbed to death in his apartment. We were still as far as far got from finding his killer.

  We rolled down Winchester headed for Germantown Road when my phone chirped. I juggled it in my excitement, and when I finally got it in my hands and swiped to answer, the caller had disconnected.

  I checked my missed calls and found out it was Sal.

  I dialed him up. “You rang?”

  “Yeah, just wanted to let you know that the prints we recovered from the flower box under your car didn’t match any in either crime sc
ene.”

  I sighed. “Great. Thanks for sharing that enlightening information.”

  “I’m not finished.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “The prints did come through NCIC as being those of a small time pusher who got locked up for drunk and disorderly conduct a little while back. I thought I would be seeing him again, but didn’t know on what charges.” He chuckled a little, and I imagined him sitting at his desk with his feet up and a grin on his face.

  “What does that mean exactly?” I chewed the edge of a fingernail.

  “It means we finally have something concrete. Now we can start hunting for this guy to get a lead or two. Hopefully those will lead us to the murderer. Maybe this all will help us match that snip of fabric from your place to him, too.”

  “You’ll keep me posted?”

  “You know it.”

  I disconnected. Maybe there was hope. I consoled myself with the idea and relayed Sal’s news to Dwayne.

  “Oh, goodie goodie gum drops. Now you can forget about trying to trick the murderer into meeting you.”

  “Um. No.” My voice held a note of arrogance. He picked up on it right away.

  “I don’t think this is such a hot idea,” he griped. “In fact, this idea sucks like a Hoover.”

  I didn’t answer, and he didn’t pursue it.

  We pulled into the lot of a garden supply business and rolled around back to an outbuilding. It sat in a wooded area away from the brick business. I knew right away he planned on sneaking in there and using it to watch Mrs. Redmon.

  “Why here?” I had to ask.

  “Straw Hat group’s working across the street at the National Bank, landscaping the front yard. And don’t try to wriggle out of this shit about your secret admirer.”

  Exasperated, I asked, “How else can I get the asshole to hand over my most embarrassing moments?”

  “You act like he’ll really do that and not kill you in the process.”

  “I thought you would be close by, protecting me.”

  He lifted his hands, placating. “What if he snatches you and hauls you into a car or something? Not like I can get to you in time to stop him.”

  I contemplated such a scene. “Well, I guess we’ll have to control the area, then.”

  We got out of the car and headed inside. It was obvious he’d done this before.

  “Are you sure it’s okay to be in here?” I asked, moving tendrils of a Wandering Jew aside.

  “Yeah, I gave my PI spiel to the owner. He was happy to accommodate me.”

  He placed an overturned crate off to the side of a small window and stood on it. “We can take turns.”

  I let him take first watch. I wanted to nose around the plants. I had always wanted to grow something pretty and colorful but discovered I had a brown thumb. In the back of the glassed-off area, I found a storage room filled with pots and soil. There was also an old canvas cot stretched out in there, and I figured it must belong to the owner. He probably came out here to take naps during slow periods.

  Tall tables lined the walls, completely covered with plastic green tarp that reached the floor. I pulled some of it aside to see what was hidden beneath. Under the left one, there was nothing, but under the right table were sprayers and pipes and old newspapers.

  “Find anything good?” Dwayne asked. I turned to find him leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching me.

  “Not really. Why?”

  “You sure are nosy.”

  I frowned. “Not exactly. I’m curious; there’s a difference. I’m also interested. So there.”

  He glanced at the group across the street. “I don’t think anything is going to come of this stake out any time soon.”

  “Want me to watch a while?”

  He shrugged and stepped off the crate. I climbed up and got comfortable. He paced back and forth, and I tried to ignore him. He kept snapping his fingers until I was totally unnerved.

  “Stop it!”

  “What?”

  “That infernal snapping.”

  “Oh. Sorry. Guess I do it without thinking. You know, kinda like you when you bite your nails really loud and spit them out?”

  I gasped. “I do not.”

  “Yeah you do. It’s loud, too.”

  The woman, Mrs. Redmon, waved to the dark-skinned man. He joined her at the tailgate of a pickup truck parked against the curb.

  The man fit Mr. Yoshi’s description of him. He resembled Dwayne. I thought of Rick and how this man had gotten into a fight with him over a window.

  The two of them started across the street, toward us.

  “Uh oh.”

  “Uh oh what?” Dwayne asked, hurrying back to the window.

  “Shit. Here they come,” I told him, jumping from the box.

  “What? Over here? They can’t do that!”

  “Well, they are. Come on, we’ve got to hide.”

  He muttered something about his new khakis as we both dove under the closest table and smoothed the tarp until we were completely hidden. I prayed the two weren’t coming here to get weed killer, as it was all lined up against my bent knees.

  We hardly breathed as the two sets of legs passed by us. Smooching sounds erupted overhead and trailed into the storage area.

  Damn, we were trapped here while they made out. I peered over at Dwayne, and he shrugged. No sense in laying blame. He couldn’t know this would happen. Suddenly, I realized we had the evidence we needed for Redmon just a few feet away from us.

  I motioned to Dwayne to give me his phone, as the storage area was closest to me.

  He attempted to dig it out of his pocket. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he struggled to be quiet. It was an iPhone and not at all small, and his pocket was not easily accessible. Finally, he handed it to me, and I aimed it into the dim light of the cot room.

  They were too far away.

  I motioned to Dwayne that I was going to get closer. He kept making slicing signs across his throat, but I pretended not to understand. I eased under the tarp and slid on my belly a foot or two closer to the cot.

  The couple made enough noise to drown out any noise I made, including the faint clicks of the camera. I took four shots and slid back under the table. Grinning with pride, I handed it back to Dwayne. Redmon would be drop-kicking his old lady to the curb for sure now.

  We were finished here and ready to go, but the couple kept their fondle-fest going for some time. My feet and legs went to sleep. I would need to be careful standing, or I’d end up on my butt. Dwayne crouched with his eyes shut in something that resembled a trance. I figured he was praying.

  When another fifteen minutes passed, I wanted to join him. Anything to get us out of here and safely in the car heading back the way we came. I tried to think of things Dwayne could do with the money he would get from Redmon for our efforts. Concentrating on anything became impossible, as all I could think of was standing to stretch my screaming muscles.

  The two finally broke it up and went back to work. I moaned as I un-kinked my legs. Dwayne limped back to the window and took a picture of the two as they walked away. I think he was jealous he didn’t get to snap the happy couple in bed.

  I bent at the waist and did a few deep knee bends to get the circulation back. “Ouch.”

  “Fuckin’ A,” he said, pulling me toward the door. “Stretch later. Let’s get the hell outta here first.”

  He jetted onto the highway and headed toward the area known as Haven Lake, an old run-down part of south Memphis, where Mr. Redmon lived. Dwayne’s car clock said it was nearing two in the afternoon. No wonder my stomach growled and everything swayed.

  “Hey, Brown, if I’m going to keep being your sidekick and accomplice, you’re going to have to start feeding me on a regular basis.”

  He laughed. “No kidding, my guts are doing the wave, too.”

  “How about food when we finish up?”

  “Ribs?”

  “You know a good place?”

  He lick
ed his lips. “I surely do. The Rib Roast over on Third.”

  Barbecue sounded like an excellent plan. I took Dwayne’s phone, and after getting his passcode, pulled up the shots I had taken. We stopped at a red light and he leaned over to look.

  “I guess Redmon got what he wanted.”

  “I’d say, and then some.” I pointed at one picture where the lover had both hands covering the woman’s ample bosom.

  Dwayne started off again. “Even her ass is homely. Just think what you could accomplish, with your nice chesties.”

  “You’re not supposed to notice I have chesties.”

  “Hell, I see ‘em. I don’t want to touch ‘em or nothing, but I see ‘em. And I wasn’t talking ‘bout me, anyhow. I was thinkin’ about old Salivate.

  I burped. “Skip the Salivating and get on with the barbecuing. Food awaits.”

  It occurred to me as we approached the apartment several hours later that the killer hadn’t called. I mentioned it to Dwayne.

  “He’s one of them psychics. He knows you’re planning on catching his ass, so now he won’t call.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Yeah well, it’s the best I could come up with on short notice.” He fished his gun out of his holster, checked it, and went in the apartment first, looking around.

  When he went in the bedroom, I reminded him to check the closet.

  He didn’t cuss or scream.

  The way must have been clear.

  “You know that Redmon dude was not very happy to get those pictures,” I observed as he reappeared, and followed me into the kitchen. He laid his gun on the table, and I grimaced. If you had asked me five months ago if I would allow a gun on my table, I would have laughed at your silliness. I handed him an apple.

  “Would you be happy if your spouse was creeping with some muchacho from her job? I think Dude was a lot younger than her, too.”

  “Well, duh. He ran the course, jumped the hurdle, and waited for her at the gate all inside fifteen minutes.”

  He crunched on his apple for a moment before answering. “You saying something about men at their prime time of life?”

  I took a bottled water from the fridge. “Uh, yeah. You’d think they could hold out longer.”

  My cell phone rang from where I had left it on the coffee table. I raced to grab it before the caller could disconnect.