Doing Time In Texas, Book 2

by James E Ferrell

  Traveling through the night and the following day, the truck lumbered on with the two men switch driving. Finally, Willy pulled the big rig into a truck stop near Memphis. Parking the car, Bart got in the cab with Willy.

  “There is a warehouse a half mile or so up the road. When we get there, let me do the talking and you keep your head!” Willy ordered. Driving the truck up to the warehouse, Willy said over the sound of the engine, “If we are lucky, we will pick up the other truck.” The truck horn blared as the big rig sat with its hood only inches from the big sliding door of the cannery warehouse. Instantly they were slid open and Willy pulled the truck inside. Turning to Bart…his stare hard, Willy said, “Sit in the truck and keep quiet. You look like you are about to come apart at the seams. Stay calm or you will give everything away.”

  Taking a clipboard from the dash he turned to see a man looking up at him with a puzzled look. “Hello Francis,” Willy said as he jumped down from the cab. Looking astonished, Francis started to speak when Willy cut him off saying, “Hawkins took ill in the Texas heat and McDonald sent me and Floyd on with this load.” Willy didn’t know if his departure from the mob had been broadcast but usually McDonald only let a few of his close associates in on his personal matters.

  The shooter looked up at Bart sitting in the cab and said, “Where is the other truck? We are getting tired of waiting for you boys to show!”

  “They will be late tomorrow getting here, that’s why I’m here. McDonald wants to leave the trucks here for a while, maybe a month or two. That means you boys can get on back to Chicago. McDonald is a happy man these days. He wants you boys to head on back and enjoy a few days off,” Willy said.

  “Willy, that sounds good to me. If you say go, we’ll be out of here in a jiffy,” Francis, the mobster, said.

  “You boys enjoy your time off. McDonald won’t be back to Chicago for another two weeks so don’t get in a big rush, take your time going back and keep your mouths shut,” Willy stated.

  Handing Francis a hundred-dollar bill, Willy said, “On your way back have yourself a night on the town on me. Now be on your way before I change my mind. You know Floyd and I could just as well leave you with these trucks.”

  “You don’t have to tell me but once. We are out of here!” Francis said gladly.

  In the truck Bart sat behind the wheel. His nerves were tight as a coiled spring. The men left heading north and Bart climbed down from the cab and said, “Baker, that was the slickest thing I ever saw. You are smooth, man. Real smooth.”

  Wiping the sweat band in his hat with a handkerchief, Willy said, “Give me your cigarette lighter and walk back and bring the car down here. We need to be ready to move fast.”

  “That truck stop is a mile back…you want me to walk?” Bart asked.

  “This day is only beginning; now do as I say. When I finish here, I’ll be in the bus station coffee shop. Go get the car and park in the parking lot and wait for me in the car,” Willy said.

  Grumbling about the walk, Bart left as Willy began peeling the signs off the truck’s doors. Reaching behind the seat he pulled out new signs and glued them over the spot where the old signs had been. A white can of paint was next, and he got up on top of the truck.

  Willy finished his third cup of coffee at the diner thinking about Bonnie when a tall skinny waitress at the other end of the diner shouted. “Is there a Bill Washington here?”

  Willy walked down the counter and took the receiver and said, “Hello, this is Washington.”

  “This is Joey…I’m where you told me to be. You ready to make a deal?” Joey Rice asked.

  “Yes, let’s get this done,” Willy said.

  “Better not be any funny business, Willy! I will make you my first target,” Rice stated.

  “Fair enough. I’m just down the street. Park in the bus station parking lot, then walk across the highway alone. I will be standing in front of an old vacant cannery warehouse. I will meet you alone in front of the warehouse. You know me, Joey. Don’t be foolish or you will regret it,” Willy said threateningly.

  A few minutes later after looking at the loaded truck, Joey said, “Willy, this stuff is worth a fortune! You should have asked for a lot more! Gino is getting a real bargain!”

  “We better make this quick, Joey. Get him in here alone and tell him to keep his men on the other side of the highway,” Willy said.

  Remembering the stern warning from Willy, Joey left LaSalle’s men outside. “Gino, you are getting a good deal here,” said Joey. “I told you that Willy would treat you right.” Willy stood between the trucks watching LaSalle inspect them.

  “You know, Willy, I’m taking a big chance taking this off your hands like this. This might start a shooting war,” LaSalle stated.

  “You took a bigger chance walking across the highway,” Willy said. “The price will not come down. Pay me the money or walk. I delivered… now pay up or walk away. Any more talk and the price starts going up,” Willy said.

  “Baker, I’m just saying that is an awful lot of money you are asking for…now what if I decide to just take the trucks from you?” Gino inquired.

  Flipping his cigarette lighter open Willy lit a fuse that was looped over a barrel standing between the trucks. “Tell you what, Gino. Why don’t you just stand here, and you can pick up what’s left of this load when it goes up.”

  Joey and LaSalle stepped back watching the fuse inch toward the truck. Following the fuse with their eyes, they saw where it disappeared under a tarp on the back of the truck. “Okay, you made your point, Baker!” LaSalle stated firmly.

  The fuse continued to inch toward the trucks as Willy said, “You think that you would walk away from here. If one of your men so much as comes through that door, I will plug you first. Joey might get me, but I get you and the dynamite will get Joey and everyone outside.” Gino saw the resolve in Willy’s eyes and decided not to push this man standing before him.

  “Cut the fuse, Baker! You get your money,” Gino said. Turning he rushed out of the building.

  Cutting the fuse Willy said, “Joey, your boss is not a brave man. I hope he took time to look both ways before he crossed the highway.”

  Joey chuckled and asked, “Willy, would you really blow up the trucks?”

  “The trucks are booby trapped. You give me the money; I remove the charges. You try and remove them yourself you will get a one-way ticket to hell, first class.” Willy locked the warehouse doors with a big chain and the two went across the street to the Greyhound Terminal.

  Gino’s limo sat in the terminal parking lot while Joey opened the rear and removed a briefcase before entering the terminal. Willy and Joey went to the restroom where Willy transferred the money to a satchel and handed the briefcase back to Joey.

  “Joey, here are the truck keys, I will go remove the charges and your men can take the trucks, wait for me by the limo and remember, I have all the bases covered that your boss might have dreamed up,” Willy stated.

  After Willy reappeared from the warehouse, it wasn’t long until LaSalle’s men had the trucks moving north. The limo pulled out behind the trucks and Willy closed the big doors and locked the warehouse. Going back to the bus station he put the bag in a locker and returned to the car.

  “Where’s the money?” Bart asked. From his pocket Willy removed ten thousand dollars and put it in the glove compartment.

  “That will take care of you and Ed. I will deliver the last truck,” Willy stated.

  “You got a lot of nerve, Baker, but I think you have a death wish! That man you just sold those trucks to is Gino LaSalle!” Bart exclaimed.

  “You know LaSalle?” Willy asked.

  “Everybody knows LaSalle. He is one mean man,” Bart said.

  “We better get going, Bart. You have a city full of crime to attend to. I need a nap before I start driving,” Willy stated.

  The crunch of gravel was all the warning Willy got as the barrel of Joey’s gun rested next to his ear. Bart was leaning over
to start the car when a gun was shoved in his back.

  “Don’t start the car,” a gruff voice from the driver’s door said.

  “Sorry, Willy! This wasn’t my idea,” Joey said.

  “What’s this?” Bart said.

  “It’s a double cross; I should have been looking for this,” Willy said.

  “Let’s take a walk over to the bus station. Gino wants the bag,” Joey said.

  “Baker, do something! This is not right,” Bart said.

  “I’m fresh out of new ideas,” Willy said.

  “Let’s go, Baker! You boys keep our friend here comfortable until we return…If there is any fancy stuff, shoot him,” Joey said.

  One of the men got in the car with Bart and sat with his gun pointing in his direction. In the rear-view mirror Bart saw the limo ease out from behind the warehouse and sit waiting.

  With a concealed gun at his back, Willy went into the terminal and back to the row of lockers. Retrieving the bag, they walked out of the terminal. Jerking the keys from the ignition the man gave Bart a warning and ran back to the waiting car. The limo drove across the highway where Joey and Willy stood. As the car pulled alongside Willy, LaSalle lowered the window and said, “It’s nice doing business with you, Sport! Stay clear of Chicago if you value your health.”

  Willy walked across the street to the car. “Are you going to let them get away with the money?” Bart said.

  “Take a look at that car Bart, there were six men in that limo plus a second car you didn’t see with a driver and two shooters. There are only two of us and we are unarmed; besides, what’s your gripe? Your money is in the glove box. You and Ed could split your money with me!” Willy said looking straight at Bart.

  “Nothing doing! You blew this deal! I’m not giving you a red cent. Besides the car keys are headed for Chicago,” Bart exclaimed.

  Willy took a spare set of keys out of the ashtray and handed them to Bart. “Well, the bag is ten thousand lighter than what they brought with them. Pull over to that telephone booth. I need to make a phone call,” Willy said.

  While Willy was on the phone, Bart sat and chainsmoked. His vision of riches had just flown out the window. Getting back in the car, Willy crawled in the back seat and said, “It’s a long way to Huntsville, let’s get going.”

  Bart shook his head and said, “I just don’t believe you, man.”

  The limo sped along the highway headed north; in a few minutes they would be behind the trucks.

  “You boys want to play a game?” LaSalle said. All heads turned to the back of the limousine where Gino sat.

  “Sure, what’s on your mind, Boss?” Joey asked as Gino said handed him the briefcase that had been taken from Willy, “Gee, Boss, this is Monopoly money!”

  “What? Let me have that! You are right, Joey! Where is the money that was in this satchel?” LaSalle inquired.

  “Baker must have pulled a switch on me. I have a bad feeling about this. We should have never pulled the double cross on Willy. I don’t think we have heard the last of this,” Joey stated.

  “My only regret is I didn’t plug him when I had the chance,” LaSalle said

  “It don’t matter, Boss! We have the merchandise and it’s worth a fortune. You really got a good deal!” Joey said excitedly.

  “True, very true. I don’t want this much merchandise in my warehouse for long. When we stop tonight, call Chicago and get my distributors lined up,” LaSalle stated.

  C53 - Worried Minds

  It was not unusual for Thomas to disappear for a few days, but he had usually called Betty to let her know not to worry. So just for conversation while she was having Ed check the hesitation in her old car, she asked, “Ed, have you seen Thomas?”

  “No, Ma’am. I haven’t,” he said without raising his head from under the hood. “Not in the last few days anyway.”

  “Well, he is gone again; I don’t know what will become of him. He is such a restless soul,” she said.

  “Granny, if I see him, I will tell him to get home.” Straightening, he changed the subject saying, “I changed the distributor cap and points. It should run like new. I will make you a bill for the parts and labor. Just drop by on Friday and settle up.” To that Granny Taylor thanked him and backed the old Plymouth out of the garage. Ed wiped his shaking hands and watched her drive away. There were two sides to Ed when he was drinking; the darkness in his soul surfaced and he was a man capable of anything. When he had to, he could pass for the local banker or store clerk. His only regret was not knowing what Baker had done with the body. The tension was getting too much for him. Turning, he made his way back into the garage.

  ααααααα

  “Hello! Is that you, Mother?” Two emotionally charged voices talked back and forth through the phone.

  “Bonnie! Is that you?” Ginny Wilkerson cried.

  They sat sobbing on the phone; neither one able to talk for a long time. Calmly, they started again.

  “Bonnie, quit apologizing! There is no use going there. Tell me where you are and how you got there. I’m not interested in all the past now!” Ginny said lovingly.

  “I was so afraid I would never see you again!” Bonnie said sobbing.

  “Bonnie, stop crying, please!” Ginny said pleadingly. Through the emotional exchange the two began to talk about their families.

  Ginny knew that all her prayers had not fallen on deaf ears. She was glad she never gave up on Bonnie. Laying down the receiver she sat and cried tears of joy. They were beginning again, in a new place with a healed family.

  Neither was under the illusion that things would be just peachy from now on. There would be problems to face, but they could face them together with a stronger faith. They knew that God always worked it out; no matter how long it took.

  The hour was early on a rainy morning in Chicago’s West side when a tired and ragged Joey opened the warehouse doors and stepped aside as the big trucks lumbered in. The warehouse soon took on a carnival atmosphere as the men who had been assembled started looking through the merchandise the trucks contained. Greed had overtaken their better judgment as they unloaded the crates. No one noticed the activity outside the warehouse. Getting over the excitement, Gino got the attention of the men.

  “Alright gentlemen settle down. Joey’s boys will inventory this truck first and distribute the goods. I want a record of every item in both trucks,” LaSalle said.

  “When you get through with the inventory you can give it to me, Joey,” a voice from the side of the warehouse said. All eyes turned to see a string of Federal lined up along the inside of the warehouse armed and ready for trouble. They had entered by a side door and positioned themselves in the shadows for the best cover.

  “Raise your hands, Gentlemen. There are a lot more of us outside. You are all under arrest,” the Federal Agent stated.

  FBI agent Gary Burkett moved over to an astonished LaSalle and said, “Gino, my boy! I have dreamed of such a moment. Please forgive my excitement but Christmas has come early this year. You might notice there are no local cops among my men? Had there been, this would not have been a surprise to you.” Walking among the items that had already been unloaded, Burkett said, “My! My! This is quite a haul.”

  LaSalle stood in disbelief, clenching his teeth saying, “I want to see my lawyer!”

  “Yes! You really should,” Burkett said with a grin. “Look in these crates, Gino! We have all manner of contraband: smuggled automatic weapons and here we have cases of liquor without a tax stamp. Yes, indeed, you need to see your lawyer.”

  Joey was cuffed and being led next to LaSalle when he said, “You just had to mess with Baker! Now look at what it got you.”

  “I’ll kill him for this!” LaSalle exclaimed.

  “No, you won’t. We will be so old when we get out of prison, he will have died of old age,” Joey said in disgust.

  “I didn’t know you had so many men in your employ,” Burkett said. “What did you do? Call in all your distributors fo
r this party? Why some of these guys have shops in my neighborhood… or did. This will go down as the dumbest stunt a crook ever pulled in Chicago. You put all your eggs in one basket; even McDonald will be laughing at you.”

  Gino turned so handcuffs could be put on and said, “Burkett, that’s one man that will not be laughing.” Twenty-two men left the warehouse that morning in cuffs. Some were well known and respected in Chicago.

  Willy lay in the back seat as Bart headed south. His mind was troubled; cloudy one minute as if seeing Thomas through a haze and seeing Bonnie the next laughing and carefree, running across the meadow. His futile attempt to rest was broken by the voice of Bart in the front seat.

  “What about the five thousand you have that was for Thomas?” Bart inquired.

  “Bart, you are getting everything you agreed to. If you and Ed had done as I told you Thomas would be alive today,” Willy stated.

  “You still have the third truck,” Bart said.

  “Yes, and moving it will be more dangerous. So be glad I took your money out of the satchel or you would be going home empty handed,” Willy replied.

  The drive back from Memphis was long and hard, stopping only for coffee and rest breaks, they drove straight through. The loss of the trucks and money had made Bart angry. It was easy to figure that Bart and Ed had made alternate plans for the money. Bart, sullen and red-eyed, sat on the passenger side of the car.

  Willy couldn’t get Thomas off his mind. Death was final and there was no going back and undoing it. Hearing Thomas’ dying testimony had affected Willy greatly. Unable to do anything, he had watched as Thomas’ life ebbed away and his face turn ashen. In his mind the face came back to him. Willy felt Thomas’ hands as he had gripped the front of his shirt trying to hold on to life, knowing that it was the end. Thomas had been deeply troubled by what he knew and with no way out he had turned to Willy for help baring his soul. The only consolation was that Thomas seemed to have gained a release from his tormented soul in the last few moments of his life.