Lost in Middle America

by Colin Conway

  “It’s Lobo’s file. Russ got it to me today.”

  “The cop?”

  “What did it cost?”

  “Four more games of pool and a couple rounds of beer.”

  “You’re an expert at losing now.”

  Sam snickered as he read.

  “What’s it say?”

  “He’s a bad guy.”

  “We knew that.”

  “Yeah.”

  Rachel sat on the edge of the bed to face Sam. He looked up at her and smiled. “You’re beautiful.”

  She rolled her eyes before asking, “Is he worse than we knew?”

  Sam shook his head. “Not really. I mean, he’s got arrests and convictions for assault, prostitution, drugs. A couple of them have domestic violence modifiers.”

  “Misdemeanor or felony?”

  “Oh, he’s got a felony drug conviction—heroin. Also, a couple felony assault convictions. One in Pennsylvania and one in West Virginia. The rest are misdemeanors. It’s a long history. I’ll tell you what, though, it looks like he’s cleaned up his act over the past several years.”

  “We know that’s not true.”

  “Exactly. What it means is that the guy got smarter. He either started paying attention or got himself a mentor. Whatever happened, he’s not the same sloppy guy he once was.”

  “You’re not going to start wearing that hat all the time, are you?”

  “What? You don’t like it?”

  Lobo had driven to the neighboring community of Wapakoneta to have dinner at the Alpha Café. Wapak was a small community that Lobo took special pleasure visiting. It was rumored to have been a sundown town even into the seventies, where blacks had to leave the city limits before darkness fell. Lima was twenty-seven percent black while, less than twenty miles away, all non-white races made up less than three percent of the Wapak population. Therefore, Lobo enjoyed the stares from the uptight white folks whenever he visited.

  The waitress set his tenderloin sandwich in front of him. She smiled and asked if he needed anything further. He waved her off, preferring little conversation as he was lost in thought.

  Something was amiss, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  He had stopped into National Union after talking with Rosie. He approached Connie, the woman at the front desk who always let him into his safe deposit box. He asked her directly about an audit. Connie flatly denied that the bank was under audit and stated they had recently passed a federal stress test. National Union was far from being under suspicion and was positioned well for the future. That was good news for their investors, but bad news for Lobo.

  Someone was spreading the word that the bank was being audited. They had spread it only to his girls. Well, he thought they had only spread it to his girls. He was going on that assumption.

  Why would someone do that? he wondered.

  Why would the IRS and the Secret Service approach Drew, the owner of the comic book shop owner about him? It didn’t make any sense.

  As Lobo ate, he considered the connection between the IRS and Secret Service. Would those two actually work together? Wouldn’t it be more likely that the FBI would be brought in than the Secret Service? Or the Marshal’s Service? Lobo’s head started to hurt figuring it all out, but he settled on one fact—the Secret Service wouldn’t be there. It was bullshit. If that was a lie, then so was the IRS. They weren’t there and they wouldn’t care. They didn’t even know he existed.

  He thought about Carrie, the auditor he assaulted earlier in the day. She was truly afraid of him when he walked in. She knew who he was and what type of man he could be. That fear was in her eyes. When he hit her, she was scared for her life. Lobo has seen that fear before. She wasn’t a field agent or she wouldn’t have allowed herself to be taken so easily. The cops were on it too fast, he realized. It was a set-up and they were watching her. Or listening to her at the very least.

  So she was an actress hired to play a role. What was she supposed to do?

  He put it all together. The bank, the approach at the comic book shop, and then his eventual discovery of who was behind it. Why was it all there?

  Lobo smiled and poured some additional catsup on his plate. She…or they…it had to be a they, right? She could not be doing this alone. They wanted him to pull his treasures from the safe deposit box.

  Somebody was running a con on him and he’d spotted it. They couldn’t outsmart him.

  So the new question was, who was Carrie working with?

  He was almost finished with his meal when he realized what truly tied everything together—his treasures. At first, his face flushed and his temper flared. Someone had talked. Then he realized the person who had talked the most was him.

  He’d told them all. Every single one of his girls knew about the comics, the gold, and the silver. He’d told them about the gun he hid in the safe deposit box in case someone tried to force him to empty it. Hell, he’d shown most of them pictures of the box’s contents. He’d even taken pictures of the latest gold and silver bars.

  He put his elbows on the table and held his head in his hands. He’d broken the most solemn vow of the pimp—keep your mouth shut. He went around blabbering like a schoolboy, proud of his accomplishments at acquiring so much. Instead, he should be ashamed at how he acted like a little bitch, tattling on himself until everyone knew what he’d been up to.

  There was no one else to blame except himself. That didn’t make him feel any better, though. It only made him angrier.

  It was their third date together in less than two weeks. They first met when he came in to ask questions about safe deposit boxes. He was so smitten that he asked her out for evening coffee the next day.

  Henry had picked her up at six from her home in Elida. They were having dinner and drinks at The Met in downtown Lima.

  Connie was hoping tonight would be the night that she could get Henry to come home with her or, at least, go home with him. He was a nice-looking man and he had treated her kindly on the first two dates. It had been almost eighteen months since she’d been with a man and Henry had gotten her hopes up already. She understood him excusing himself the first night, besides it was just coffee and that was proper etiquette. However, she had given him every signal she could think of on the second date to invite her home, but he didn’t pick up her hints.

  She was on her second cosmopolitan of the night and he was sipping a vodka tonic. She wore a black cocktail dress for the evening and he was in a suit sans tie.

  “You said you were an investor when we met for coffee. I don’t remember what you said you invested in, though,” Connie said. “What is it again?”

  Henry was silent for a moment, lost in thought. Connie glanced around the lounge, slightly uncomfortable at the extended silence. Dean Martin’s “Sway” played through speakers somewhere.

  He finally said, “I’m not an investor.”

  Connie was taken aback. “You lied?”

  “Yes.”

  She didn’t know how to take it. So far Henry had been the perfect guy, but now he had just admitting lie to her. “Why would you do that?”

  “I wanted to get close to you.”

  She blushed and suddenly felt warm. “You could have done that by telling the truth about your job. You didn’t have to impress me by saying you’re an investor.”

  He pulled out an identification wallet and flashed it to her. “I’m Agent Henry Decker with the Secret Service.”

  Connie raised a hand to her chest. “Oh.”

  “We’re tracking a dangerous criminal who has been storing various items in safety deposit boxes around town.”

  “Why don’t you arrest him?”

  “Because we don’t know all the locations he’s using. My job was to watch National Union bank and to make contact with you. There are other agents in town doing the same thing.”

  Connie’s smile faded. “So I was your job?”

  “At first, but
then I breached protocol by asking you out.”

  Her smile returned.

  “I like you a lot, Constance.”

  She liked how he called her by her full name.

  “That’s when I realized I had a problem. I was just supposed to interview you or develop you as a contact. But everything changed after I spent time with you. Now, if I do what I want, which I think is what you want, I could put the operation in jeopardy and risk my career.”

  “Oh.”

  Henry sipped his drink before speaking. “What I need to do right now is stay disciplined until it’s over.”

  Connie’s brow furrowed. “How long do you think that will be?”

  “I don’t know. Less than a week maybe. No more than two weeks at most.”

  A frown appeared across her lips. “Then you will leave town and I’ll never see you again.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m based out of Dayton. We’re an hour apart. I used to drive that one-way, every day, when I lived in Philadelphia.”

  “So you still want to see me when your case is over?”

  “More than anything, Constance. I just couldn’t hide the truth from you anymore.”

  She sipped her cosmo as her face flushed with excitement. “I’m glad, Henry. I really am. I like you a lot.”

  He clicked the side of his glass against hers.

  “The quicker I end this case the better,” Henry said.

  “How can I make that happen?” she asked.

  She’d waited eighteen months for a man, Connie thought, she could easily do another two weeks. But if she could end it faster, she’d damn well do whatever it took.

  She opened the door and smelled the musky smell of marijuana again. It wasn’t quite nine yet so she was surprised to receive the text message from Lobo to head back to her apartment. When she turned on the light, he was seated in the corner chair, smoking a dark cigarette.

  “Hey, daddy.”

  “My Violet,” he said, his voice husky.

  She smiled at his tone. He’d called her home early to spend time with her. She wouldn’t have to work the street tonight.

  “Take off your clothes, baby.”

  She started toward the bathroom.

  “No,” he said.

  The sternness in his voice stopped her immediately. The smile faded and she turned back to him.

  “What did I say?”

  She stared at him for a moment before stepping out of her shoes. She then pushed the purple dress from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. She stood only in a mismatched red bra and black panties.

  She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he sucked on the joint and held the smoke. When she reached behind her back for the bra clasp, he exhaled slowly. After she pushed her panties to the floor, she let her arms dangle to the side.

  “Do you have something to tell me, Violet?”

  She suddenly felt small and exposed. She didn’t know what Lobo wanted to hear. “I love you, daddy,” she whispered.

  Lobo crushed out his marijuana cigarette and stood. “I know you do, baby girl, but this ain’t about that.” He undid his buckle and slowly slid his belt free of its pant loops. He held the buckle in his hand and wrapped one loop of leather around his hand, letting the remaining length of belt dangle down. “This is about you being straight with me.”

  Violet’s eyes locked on the belt and she instinctively crossed her arms over her belly.

  “Do not do that,” Lobo said. “I want to see all of you.”

  She pushed her arms back to her side. Her body suddenly shook even thought it was very warm in the room.

  “Are you going to tell me the truth?”

  “I always have, daddy.”

  Lobo whipped the leather belt out across her left arm. She yelped and turned her back. He struck her again with the belt, leaving a large welt across her skin.

  “What did I do, daddy?” she cried.

  He hit her again which dropped her to her knees on the carpeted floor. She covered her head with her hands.

  “What aren’t you telling me, Violet?” Lobo said, his voice hoarse from excitement.

  “Nothing,” she said. “Nothing.”

  “That’s right. You’re telling me nothing.”

  He raised his hand higher and whipped the belt down, tearing flesh as it struck. He did it a second time which caused her to roll over on her back and lift her legs. She was tucked into a fetal position now.

  Violet cried hysterically.

  “What did Edith tell you?” Lobo yelled and whipped the belt across her shins.

  Violet squealed, leapt off the ground onto the bed. She stood on the mattress and moved to the wall. She held her hands out. “Edith,” she said, “Edith.”

  “That’s right, bitch. What did Edith tell you?”

  “She said the bank is going to close.”

  “Right,” Lobo said, “and why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I forgot,” Violet said.

  Lobo swung the belt, catching Violet across the forearms. She squeaked and yanked her arms back.

  “I know when you’re lying. Do it again and I’ll drop the belt and beat you with my hands.”

  “I was mad at you, daddy. I din’t tell you because I was mad.”

  Lobo lowered his hand.

  “Why were you mad, bitch?”

  “Because I wanted your attention and you weren’t giving it to me.”

  Lobo shook his head. He unwrapped the belt from his hand and re-laced it through the belt loops. Tears formed in her eyes as he buckled the belt.

  “Violet, you know you’re my favorite, right? I already give you too much attention as it is. Some of the girls are getting jealous.”

  He moved around the bed to where she stood. He sat on the bed and held out his hand. She put her hand in his and he pulled her gently down towards him. She dropped onto the bed, wincing as she landed.

  “I’m sorry for hurting you, baby, but I had to know the truth. There are forces mobilizing against us and I had to make sure you were with me. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  He put his hand against her cheek.

  “You truly understand?”

  She nodded again.

  “I’m sorry, baby. Please don’t make me do that again, okay? Also, be truthful with me. No matter what.”

  “I will, daddy.”

  Lobo studied her eyes. When he was satisfied with what he saw, he stood and pulled Violet gently to her feet. “Let’s get you cleaned up. You still got some work to do tonight. When’s it’s over, I’ll come back and spend some time with you, okay?”

  Tears ran down her cheeks, but she nodded anyway.

  He confronted Bigs in the parking lot of Duke’s Liquor Store. “I saw you drop her off.”

  “Who?”

  Sam raised his eyebrows.

  “Shit.”

  “That’s right. Part of the rules was for you not to talk with her. She could ruin the whole plan. You agreed. You said you could keep your mind straight. What the hell happened?”

  Bigs shoved his hands into his pockets and shook his head. He then peered up into the night sky. “Man, I just wanted to say hi to her. She was my best girl before things turned to shit. Seeing Rosie, it just, well, you understand.”

  “No, I don’t, Bigs. I don’t understand. We’re on the job. It’s time to put your emotions in check. You said you could do that. Was that bullshit?”

  “I got caught up in seein’ her.”

  “Did you…”

  “No, we just talked. She didn’t get into my nose. My mind is still right.”

  Sam studied his eyes and Bigs never turned away.

  “What did you tell her?”

  “Nuthin’. I swear. I only said I missed her and that she looked good.”

  “What excuse did you give for being in town?”

  “I told her about visiting a frien
d in Van Wert and driving through Lima. I said seeing her was a fortunate accident.”

  “She bought it?”

  Bigs grinned. It was a smile Sam remembered from Bigs’s pimping days. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “After we chatted for a bit, I put some cash in her hands. She believed everything I told her then.”

  “Will she tell Lobo she saw you?”

  His face turned serious. “No. Not a chance. I believe that with my whole life. She don’t want the trouble that would bring. He’d take it out on her just to make sure she wasn’t turning.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because that’s what I would have done when I was younger.”

  Lobo strolled out of the bar, a happy grin on his face.

  Someone was after him, but he’d seen it coming. He knew they were trying to get to him, but he wasn’t going to let it happen. Being a pimp was about keeping your emotions in check, not letting things push you out of the game you were playing. You always had to be in control.

  He stood on the sidewalk and smelled the thick, summer air.

  “Lobo,” a male voice said.

  It was a familiar sound from somewhere years passed. The hairs on his arm stood so he knew danger was close. He took a step away from the voice before he turned.

  “You,” he said. “I thought you would have learned your lesson in Cincinnati.”

  “You set me up in my home town. I’ll never forget you.”

  “Filthadelphia? I did you a favor by pushing you out of there. Your game was already weak by the time I got to the scene.”

  Bigs stepped toward Lobo. “Well, I’m back to take what’s mine.”

  “You and what army?”

  A group of people began to form around the two men, expecting to see a fight.

  Lobo’s eyes widened with realization. “Holy shit, you part of all this crazy shit in my life? I wouldn’t have thought you would make a move on me, fat man. Nice try, but I ain’t buying the fear you been trying to put into me.”

  Bigs shrugged. “Ain’t no thing. I found something better than your treasures.”