The parlor, now quiet following a rousing bit of discussion about the recent crime wave, still, except for Felix, who especially enjoyed the discussion, knew who and what he did. A large portrait above the ornate fireplace caught his attention as he thumbed through his Day-Timer looking for Ms. Beverly Davis’ phone number. Being Sunday, he had hoped to spend some quality time with the librarian, before having to put in his obligatory visit to the realtor. He found the slim and stacked, more appealing than the round and short, but a true soldier; he would do his duty and earn his pay, then rub it in the face of that weasel, Iggy.
He dialed the number from the phone in the parlor; it rang only once before she picked up. The over-the-top approach usually worked well with single women, especially of the widowed variety, and he started there, explaining that he was an entrepreneur representing a small land developer that had heard through the real estate grapevine, that she had a property that they’d like to look at. He could tell through the line that she was more than excited about the prospects of showing the land in question. Ms. Davis explained that the parcel had all but been sold a few days ago, the seller was motivated and the price was right. She hadn’t told him anything he didn’t already know. The business woman took his name, Felix Unger, which drew a silent snicker, as it always did from the over 50 crowd, and some particulars about the client, what they were looking for, what they wanted to develop and on and on. Felix tried to stay engaged and interested, but work was work, even for a wise guy.
They made an appointment for later that afternoon, she normally didn’t work or do showings on Sunday, but for the charming Felix, she was willing to make an exception. He would swing by and meet her at the office and they could drive together to the lot south of Moody Air Force Base. He wrote the time into his Day-Timer. Jeremy had stressed how important keeping accurate notes would be when the shit hit the fan. With the work of the morning done, he stretched out on the couch, crossed his legs at the ankles, his arms over his chest, and was asleep before the thought of prostituting himself for a few million dollars floated out of his mind.
Across town Otis was lying on his back, his tail still going, as Angelo rubbed the dog’s belly with his cowboy boot. Deputy Guest had just finished filling her boss in on her encounter with Lester Cummings, anticipating that they would call in the posse, mount up, and ride out to arrest the varmint. The Sheriff was interested, but had seen too many investigations to know that the first subject, regardless of how perfectly they fit the profile, was often the wrong guy. He wanted to proceed with caution and not scare the suspect off. Lester Cummings could very well be just a recluse who valued his privacy. She emphasized the vehicle, a van perfect for a burglar, a shooting range with lots of spent ammo, and a barn for hiding items like a motorcycle.
“But Sheriff, you should have seen the look in his eyes when I made a move toward the barn. I thought Otis there was gonna take his leg off. It was a good thing I had a tight hold on him,” the deputy explained, trying to recreate the look Lester had given her.
Lupo had a hard time not laughing at the antics of the junior officer, but kept it to a smile only. “Okay, bottom line is this, is there enough evidence that we could get the judge to issue a search warrant? Are there any witnesses that put him, or his vehicle, at the scene of any of the crimes? As far as we know, is he in possession of any stolen property? Does he have a motorcycle registered in his name or at that address? Is this Lester a perp with a prior record?
To each of the questions, Natalie sadly had to answer, “no”, or at best, “I don’t know.”
“It sounds to me like you’ve got a bunch of work to do then. Find out the answers to all of those questions and we can go from there, but hitting up the judge now for a warrant, will be a waste of time for us, and an embarrassment for the department.”
“Yes sir, I get your point, I just thought… you know…I had this feeling that he was our guy. You’ve had it before, right in the pit of your stomach, that you just know,” she expressed with all the energy of her soul.
“Don’t get me wrong deputy. I think you’ve done some damn fine work this morning, may break this whole investigation wide open, but there’s some homework that needs to be done before we can go any further. Got that?” he said, pulling at Otis’ collar and lifting his head to his lap so he could give him some attention.
“Yeah, I better do some checking and I’ll keep you posted. Guess I’ll start with a background check on him and his vehicle.” She whistled and Otis begrudgingly left the Sheriff and joined her at the door. “Come on boy, we’ve got some work to do.”
Angelo called after her, “Natalie, don’t get discouraged. Your instincts are good always listen to them. It could save your life someday.”
“Thanks Sheriff, I will.”
The balance of the young deputy’s Sunday was spent submitting data to the computer system, filling out activity reports of the morning, and trying to put some notes together for the unwanted, and unsolicited, presentation before Mrs. Wild’s class tomorrow. She tried to be detailed but succinct, nothing she hated more than filling out forms and sitting in front of the computer. She’d joined the Sheriff’s Office to be on the line, out with the public doing ‘real’ police work, at least she had Otis and did get out much more than the other officers. The voice message she’d received while speaking with Mr. Cummings was all but incoherent. She knew it was the old farmer she’d seen on the tractor earlier in the day but the message did not come through. She had tried a number of times to phone him back but was unsuccessful. Tomorrow after her presentation, she’d run out that way and see if she could track him down. She hoped by then maybe they’d have a better idea who Lester really was and if he was a viable suspect.
The day of rest for Blanche Delaney had been anything but that; the frantic ride to the hospital following the shooting had been harrowing. She now sat in the General Hospital’s waiting room, there had been no word on Jasper’s condition since they arrived. He was taken immediately to surgery and that’s the last she saw of him or the doctors. Police at the scene had already questioned her, but she knew another round would be coming her way, when she saw a runty sized officer walk through the doors, as if he were looking for something. He looked to be about sixteen but she knew that could not be the case, fair complexion, narrow eyes and face with a poor excuse of a mustache under his nose. His uniform fit well and looked like it had been pressed more than once to give it almost sheen at the creases. Blanche watched him, trying not to make eye contact, but she knew she’d been made when he walked through the sea of people and came to stand directly in front of her.
“Ms. Delaney?” he said.
“Yes, I’ve already given a statement and answered a number of questions,” she said, with a pre-emptive strike against the inquisitor.
“I understand that, but we wanted to clarify a few things for our report before we can have you sign off on your statement. Would you mind coming with me? There’s an administrative office where we can have a few minutes of privacy,” the young officer said, pointing the way.
Blanche stood, moved past the officer in the direction he had indicated and asked, “How did you know it was me you were looking for? There are a lot of people in this waiting room.”
“Oh, the officer that you gave the statement to last night described you to me and said you had big…uh, big blue eyes. Knew it was you right away.”
“My, you must have remarkable vision to have spotted my eye color from clear across the room. No wonder you're a police officer,” she said, giving him a knowing grin.
They stepped through the door of the administrative conference room just behind the admittance desk and the officer closed the door behind them. The room itself was cold and uninviting; the long, rectangular table that took up most of the space had nothing on it but fingerprints from a previous meeting. The walls were bare, save for a picture of the hospital taken from an aerial view, and an abstract painting occupying most of one wall at the head of the table. Blanche looked at it trying to identify what it was, and what it had to do with health care, nothing came to her mind.
They sat in the two chairs closest to the door, the cherub of an officer laid the clipboard on the table between them and asked some questions, some new, some old.
“It’s our understanding that you weren’t able to get a good look at the assailant, is that correct?”
“Yes, I told the other officer, that was so interested in my eyes, that I noted a man with a hoodie go into the bathroom but that was about it. I don’t even remember seeing him come out or leave the diner.”
“That’s fine; a few of the other customers were able to give us a bit more than that. Could you tell what nationality or race he was?”
“I want to say Caucasian but I could be wrong. Pretty sure he wasn’t black, but from the angle I saw him the hoodie blocked most of his face, and he had the ball cap and the shades, so I just can’t be certain. It’s been a very long night.”
“I understand, we appreciate your willingness to talk with us again. When the firecrackers starting going off do you remember seeing this guy again? Even as you exited the diner do you remember him being in the parking lot?” he said, trying to remain professional.
“No, all I remember was Jasper practically carrying me out of the place, then him pushing me toward the truck. I turned just as the last bang sounded. I thought it was another blast coming from inside the diner, but thinking back, it was much louder than the others. I mean, it just wasn’t registering to me, the noise, the shouts, and all the confusion, everybody thought we were under attack and were being shot at.”
“Yes, it must have been very traumatic for you and the others. When did you first notice that Jasper was down?”
“I ran to the truck and looked back to see why he wasn’t with me and it seemed like it was almost in slow motion. I heard the final loud clap and I saw Jasper get knocked forward, and then went down on his knees, then onto his chest. I wasn’t sure what had happened to him, just didn’t seem real, you know. I’ve never seen anything like it, these things don’t just happen to normal people.”
“Our point exactly, Ms. Delaney. Now, I hope that you’re not offended, but I need to address a line of questioning that may make you uncomfortable,” he said, not willing to make eye contact with the librarian.
“What do you mean, ‘uncomfortable’?” she asked.
“How long have you known Mr. Jackson?” the patrolman asked.
“Who? Oh, you mean Jasper. I’d say about a month. Met him just after I moved here from Arizona.”
“I see, and what is the nature of your relationship? Were you intimate?” he asked, lifting his eyes to meet hers.
“And what do you mean by, ‘I see’? We were not sleeping together, if that’s what you’re after. He’s a nice guy that has helped me out of a couple of jams and we are friends. Are people not allowed to just be friends anymore?” she said, with indignation rising in her voice.
“No. I mean yes. Certainly it’s okay to just be friends, believe me I don’t enjoy asking these questions, any more than you do answering them. It’s just my job.”
“Okay, well let’s get through them then,” she said, backing off a bit.
“Thank you. So are you aware of Mr. Jackson’s arrest record, and last night did you see him engage in any drug related sales or purchases?”
“Okay, hold it right there! Where is this going? Did you not catch that we were at a family diner having banana splits? We weren’t on the corner of drug central trying to score a kilo.”
“Believe me, I know, but could you just answer the question,” he said, apologetically.
“Fine, no and no.”
“What do you mean, no and no?”
“No, I am not aware of his past. And no, I did not see him engage in any drug deals,” she said, as matter of fact.
The young man couldn’t help himself, and felt bad that she was feeling so defensive, so he said more than he should have. “Listen, I probably shouldn’t say anything to you but I think you deserve to know a few things.”
“Thank you!”
“Jasper Jackson has several arrests for both possession and intent to distribute marijuana. Nothing recent mind you, but back about 4 years ago he had several scrapes with the law, so when something like this happens, we have to rule out that it was not drug related. Unfortunately, they usually are.”
“Oh, my heavens, that had not even occurred to me. Jasper is such a nice guy. I suspected he smoked some weed but didn’t know he was selling or anything.”
“Now don’t get me wrong, he’s never been busted actually selling, he just had enough in his possession that it looked like he was going to distribute. Charges never stuck and he pleaded down to a lesser charge. Has only ever spent a couple of days in jail with no felony charges.”
“Well, that does make me feel a little bit better, but do you think this had something to do with drugs?”
“Most likely; looks like Jasper was singled out by the shooter,” the cop said. “One final question, then you’ll be free to go. I’m sure you're anxious to see your friend.”
“Yes, I am, let’s get this done with,” she agreed.
The officer laid the pen he’d been using on the clipboard and sat back looking at Blanche. “Miss Delaney, are you currently seeing anybody, romantically that is?”
The way the question was posed had Blanche a little confused, “Who’s asking? You or the police department?”
“The police department, of course,” he said, clearing his voice and dropping it an octave in the process.
“Oh, okay. Well yes. It’s not serious but I have just recently, mind you, started to see a college student that I work with. His name is Seymour Wood.”
“Thank you,” he said, reaching for the pen and writing Seymour’s name on the pad. “Is there any possibility that he, either directly or indirectly, could have been involved with last night’s shooting?”
“You think Seymour was involved?” the flabbergasted Blanche asked.
“Remember, we’re just trying to get to the bottom of who hurt your friend. We have to explore every possible avenue.”
“I suppose.”
“Can you answer the question, and can you positively rule out that the man you saw walk through the diner, and into the bathroom, was not this Seymour Wood?” The young police officer stressed his question by leaning closer to Blanche, pen in hand.
She thought for a long moment before she replied, “No, I don’t think there is any way on this earth that Seymour was involved, and I almost hate to answer the second part of your question,” she hesitated. “And no, I can’t 100 % be sure that it was not him in the diner. If you’ll recall, I said I didn’t get a very good look at him, but I know Seymour wouldn’t do anything like that. I swear!”
“That will be all. Thanks for your cooperation, we’ll contact you if we need anything further,” he finished.
They concluded the interview by Blanche providing her current address, contact numbers, place of employment and a few other odds and ends, but then she was free to go after signing the notes that the officer had taken. When she returned to the waiting area she could see Rufus, aimlessly walking around, asking people where Jasper was. Most treated him like a worthless homeless person that was looking for a handout. Blanche quickly went to him and put her arm around his shoulders.
“Where’s ma bo, where’s Jaspa? Cops jus cum n’ pic me up, jus say Jasper’s been shot,” Rufus said, eyes red from the tears and filled with confusion.
“He’s either still in surgery or in recovery by now. Let’s talk to a nurse and see what we can find out,” she sympathetically reacted to the older man’s needs.
They found their way to the nurse’s station and asked about Jasper. The first nurse would not release any information but a young lady standing nearby and hearing what they were after, pulled Blanche aside and whispered to her, “Mr. Jackson is in the recovery room and in a couple of hours will be brought to room 322. Watch for him then, he’ll be able to have family visitors.”
“Thank you so much, you’ve been very helpful,” Blanche said, squeezing the young ladies arm in appreciation.
The old man and beauty spent the next couple of hours chatting in the cafeteria, talking and sometimes laughing. It helped to pass the time and ease the worry. Rufus was certainly a storyteller and Blanche enjoyed the time together. He was a good-hearted old soul and she appreciated the kindness he had extended to her, and she was happy to reciprocate in his hour of need.
At the appointed hour they took the elevator to the third floor and followed the signs until they came to room 322. They could hear Jasper’s deep voice and a young lady giggling inside. The two stepped inside to see Jasper lying on his side, sheets pulled up to his waist, and a hospital gown covering his upper body. He was groggy but awake and had been having some fun with the candy striper, trying to convince her that he needed some assistance taking a leak, and could she hold it for him. Blanche suspected it wasn’t the first time she’d been given that offer.
“There you two are,” he said, as they entered the room. “Was wondering if you had deserted me.”
“Jaspa, me boy, how ya doin’? Ya hurt bad?” his father asked, going to his side and holding his large head against his chest.
“No pops, mutha shot me in my thickest muscle, right in my gluteus maximus. Docs said didn’t hit anythin' but USDA 100 % ass, no bone or vessels. Said surgery was a breeze, just had to remove the slug. I’m feelin' pertty lucky.”
Blanche joined Rufus bedside, leaned over and kissed Jasper on the forehead, “I’m so glad to see that you’ll be okay, we were so worried about you. All that blood, and you were in so much pain, it was pretty scary.”
“How long they be keepin’ ya here, son?” Rufus asked.
Jasper motioned, pointing to the tubes and bottles that were running liquids into his veins, “They said they have ta watch fer infections fer a couple of days, but if I don’t run a fever I can go home if I’m up to it. Just feelin’ really tired and the painkiller is starting to wear off a little bit. Feels like somebody took a bite out of my butt. Hope the scar won’t affect my posing, been told my ass is my second best muscle,” he said, winking at Blanche, causing her to blush.
“Well Jasper, I can see that you need some rest, as do I. I think I’ll be able to go home and get some sleep, now that I know you’re going to be okay. I’ll stop by in a day or two and check on you.”
“I’d like that. Bring a book from the library and read to me,” he said, half joking but quite serious.
“Okay, bye you two.” She departed, but not without kissing each on the cheek before finding her way to the front of the hospital, and into the backseat of a cab for the ride home.
* * *
Beverly Davis sat in the waiting area of her realty office waiting for her newest client to show up. The prospect of showing the large parcel had energized the depressed realtor and given her hope that perhaps she’d still close on some kind of deal soon. The bottom had certainly dropped out of the market the past week and nothing was moving. People had been cancelling opportunities to explore what was available, but the number of new listings was up dramatically, and people willing to take a fairly large hit on the price, if it could just be sold quickly. These were more the units and homes near the base. Beverly had a hard time understanding the whole stalker phenomena. She had a loaded 32 caliber semi-automatic pistol that she kept with her at all times, had a permit to carry it as a concealed weapon and felt pretty comfortable loading and firing it. At close range she was deadly, killing multiple silhouette targets on more than one occasion from twenty to thirty feet. Helped her sleep at night knowing it was by her side.
A large black sedan pulled up out front and a good-looking guy with dark hair and stylish sunglasses got out. He was tall, tanned, and wearing a nice silk shirt and slacks.
“Oh baby, come to Mama,” she said, licking her lips and checking her hair in a pocket mirror she kept in her purse.
She greeted him just outside the office and introduced herself, not hiding the fact that she found him very attractive. The attention was not lost on Felix. He produced an authentic business card and presented it to the woman, and she reciprocated with one of her own. He noted, when she opened her purse to retrieve the card, that she was packing. Felix hadn’t been sure if she carried the 32 with her all the time but was glad to see that she did. The mobster breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he wouldn’t have to search her home for the weapon. Iggy had previously found a gun registered in her name, and the carry license, so they knew she had it, but were unsure how she treated it. The ride through the streets of Valdosta and into the country was pleasant enough. He found himself actually enjoying her company. She was funny, knew how to turn a phrase and in her day was probably quite pretty. He even envisioned himself being attracted to her if she dropped forty pounds. Felix did not hold back when it came to the flattery and moves, he put on the unsuspecting widow, working even more quickly than he normally did to worm his way into her bed.
Beverly could not believe her good fortune. This guy was for real. The development firm he was representing was a limited corporation that had a listing on the Internet, she’d never heard of them before, but she didn’t pretend to know everybody working the market. She had phoned a couple of numbers that afternoon, before they met, to confirm that she wasn’t being conned, and was pleased to finally reach the CEO. He confirmed that Mr. Unger, was indeed, hired by them on a temporary basis to look into this specific property. She enjoyed the drive and was taken by the easy charm of her client. He seemed interested in her as well, been a long time since she’d felt a man alongside her in her bed, maybe she’d get lucky.
“Mr. Unger, do you like what you see?” she said, pointing to the flat stretch of land that lay before them.
“Indeed I do,” he said, ignoring the land and eyeing Bev up and down.
“Felix, you’re making me blush like a schoolgirl,” she said, in an exaggerated Southern accent.
“I’ll tell you what Bev, I think I can talk my guys into having a good HARD look at you…’re property here. I need some time to do a proper analysis, and could you get those statistics to me that we talked about on the drive out here. Once I get all that in hand, I’ll put together a package for the corp., and then I know we’ll have to get together for some more questions. How’s that sound?” he said, making sure to invade her personal space every chance he got.
“I think that sounds great. When do you think I’ll hear from you?” she asked.
“About the property or ….what?” he coyly asked, testing the waters.
“You are a naughty one, aren't you,” she said, tapping him on the shoulder.
“That’s why I’m in the business I’m in Bev, I have an eye for a good thing, and I go after it till I’ve got it. That’s why they pay me the big money.”
“I have no doubts about that, Mr. Unger,” she replied, wishing that he’d just take her right then and there on the hood of her car.
“Okay, well let’s see where tomorrow finds us and I’ll be in touch.”
The drive back was just as much fun as the drive there. The two talked and served sexually suggestive lines back and forth like a couple of tennis pros for the twenty-minute drive back to her office.
“Bev, let me ask you a rather direct question,” he said, leaning in close to her over the console of the BMW.
“Shoot.”
Her phrasing could not have been more appropriate. “Do you ever do business out of your home, or just here at the office?”
Boy, he was a fast mover. “Well, I’ll tell you Felix, it’s been awhile since I’ve conducted any ‘business’ at home but would certainly entertain your offer at my place if and when, you have all the hard data together.” She flicked her fingers in the air like quotation marks when she said the word business.
Even a boy scout would have gotten her message. Felix knew he was good to go whenever Iggy could make it happen.
“That sounds more than promising Bev, I’m sure I’ll be speaking with you real soon. You’ve got my number if you need to reach me and I’ve already got yours programmed into my cell. Pleasure was all mine this afternoon, good day.” He exited the car and tipped his head down for one last wave and goodbye.
Damn, it was just too easy.