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Author: Dan Arnold

Category: Western

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  “You’re pretty thorough aren’t you?” Doug asked.

  “My clients expect me to be thorough, and I’ve found it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

  I handed back his creds.

  “You’ll find you can trust me,” he said.

  “Time will tell, Doug.”

  “No worries.”

  “Just one more thing, Doug…”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “I asked you to promise me you would help my operative, if I asked you to. I was speaking to you. You answered ‘we’ll be happy to assist him in any way we can.’ I’m not interested in ten layers of bureaucracy. I had more than enough of that, when I worked for Uncle Sam. I’m dealing with you. I’ll hold you responsible, not the entire government, not the FBI, not the local Field Office; just you, personally. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Doug pursed his lips.

  “You’re kind of a hard ass, aren’t you?”

  “I just want to make sure we understand each other. If you can’t commit to it, tell me now.”

  “Trust is a two way street. I don’t know you either.”

  “Well then, have a nice day, Special Agent Booker.”

  He stood up, and started to turn away.

  “Now hang on a minute. Ok, I get it. You want me to promise you my help. I can’t make some sort of blanket promise, to do whatever you want me to do. You understand I work for the Federal Government, right?”

  I spread my hands.

  “Still, yes, I promise to personally help your guy in any and every way I can. OK, is that what you want from me?”

  “That, my friend, could be the start of a beautiful relationship.”

  Thirty-Two

  I was thinking about the implications of my meeting with FBI Special Agent Booker, when Christine buzzed me on the intercom.

  “John, you’re three o’clock is here,” She said.

  I checked the monitor and saw Mrs. Clark. She was at least as attractive as she had sounded on the telephone.

  “Thank you. Please send her in, Christine.”

  I stood up behind my desk as the lady entered the room.

  From the moment Evelyn Clark came into my office, I could see she was working hard to maintain her composure.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Clark, I’m John Tucker. Please have a seat.” I motioned toward one of the high backed upholstered chairs in front of my desk.

  I sat down as well.

  We studied each other for a moment, before I broke the silence.

  “How may we help you today, Mrs. Clark?”

  She drew a somewhat ragged breath.

  “I would like you to follow my husband.”

  “I see. May I ask why?”

  “… Because he’s having an affair, of course.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Her eyes jumped around the room, not really looking at anything, especially me.

  “Oh, I don’t know. If I knew for sure, I wouldn’t need you to follow him.”

  “I see. So then, you suspect your husband is having an affair, is that correct?”

  She nodded several times.

  “Do you have any idea with whom he might be having an affair?”

  “… With whom? Of course not! If I knew who it was, I wouldn’t need you.”

  I conceded the point.

  “Why do you think your husband is having an affair?”

  “All the usual reasons I suppose. He’s a man. He likes women. He’s bored with me.”

  “Are you bored with him?”

  “What? No, this isn’t about me, it’s about him, or us, I suppose.”

  I waited her out.

  “So, what will it cost me to have him followed?”

  “My rate is $500.00 per day, plus expenses. I figure a day is eight hours. I bill for each accumulation of eight hours. I have other clients, and some part of every day is spent on the needs of each of my clients, so typically, I would not be billing any single client every day, for the work we do on a case. Surveillance can often stretch out over several hours, on any given day. It may take several days to obtain any useful information. It is one of the most expensive services we provide.”

  “I can afford it.”

  “Yes ma’am. May I ask, does your husband monitor or manage your accounts?”

  She paled, as she thought about the implications of my question.

  I nodded.

  “Do you carry a gun, Mr. Tucker?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am, I do. Why do you ask?”

  “I want you to kill him.”

  I regarded her for a moment, and then she broke down in tears.

  I pushed the button on the intercom.

  “Christine, would you please come in here?”

  Christine walked in and gave me a ‘what’s up?’ look.

  “Mrs. Clark has just asked me to kill her husband.” I said, as casually as possible.

  “Oh my! Whatever for?” Christine asked.

  Mrs. Clark was sobbing now.

  Christine knelt down beside her, and wrapped and arm around her.

  I pushed the box of tissues over to where Christine could reach them.

  “It seems there are problems in the marriage, and Mrs. Clark suspects her husband is having an affair.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that. Do you really want John to kill him?” She asked Mrs. Clark.

  Mrs. Clark shook her head. Her mascara was running down her face.

  “I, I just want to know… Oh, I don’t know what I want.”

  “Of course you don’t. This is horrible for you. Have you talked to your husband about this?”

  Mrs. Clark shook her head again.

  “I can’t, I just don’t know how, or what to say…”

  “You could ask him straight out, if he is having an affair.” I suggested.

  “He would just lie, wouldn’t he?”

  “Mrs. Clark, have you ever considered marriage counseling?” Christine asked her.

  The lady just shook her head in response.

  “Do you think your husband might be open to going to see a counselor with you?”

  “I, I don’t know.” Mrs. Clark sobbed.

  I caught Christine’s eye and nodded at her.

  “Honey, let’s you and I go to the ladies’ room and have a private chat. We’ll get you cleaned up and put some cool water on your face. How does that sound?” Christine asked her.

  Mrs. Clark nodded in agreement and Christine helped her to her feet.

  “John, if you will excuse us for a few minutes, we’ll be back shortly,” Christine said, as she turned toward the door and guided Mrs. Clark in that direction.

  “Certainly,” I said.

  I gave Christine a wink.

  She made a face, in response.

  When Mrs. Clark was again seated in my office, she was much calmer, and appeared to be thinking more clearly.

  “Mr. Tucker, please excuse me for asking you to…”

  “Not at all,” I said, interrupting her. “I understand you are quite distraught. Sometimes it helps just having a friend to talk with. Mrs. Clark, here is a card with the contact information for a friend of mine. She does marriage and family counseling. Please make an appointment with her. I think you will find her a much more beneficial person to help you with this issue than I can be. She can encourage you and help you figure out what it will take to save your marriage. Perhaps your marriage can’t be saved, but if it can be, do you want to?”

  “Yes, yes I do. I came here thinking it was too late and there was no hope. I don’t know, but I want to try.”

  “That’s good then. I’m glad you came in today.”

  “I am as well. You and Christine have been very kind.”

  “If there is anything either of us can do for you, even if it is just listening, please come see us again.” I stood up to show her to the door.

  “It’s funny, I came here frightened and confused, but y’all have helped me feel be
tter.”

  I opened the door, and Christine greeted her with a smile.

  When she had gone, Christine came in and sat down in one of the two high back arm chairs upholstered in a green fabric, with a hunt scene theme, which sat in front of my massive hand carved oak desk.

  I was reminded again, Christine had been the one sent to turn my drab, one man agency into what it was now. She had chosen this space and all of the furnishings.

  “That was the strangest appointment we’ve had in a while,” Christine observed.

  “Not particularly profitable either.”

  “There is more than one kind of profit, John. I feel really good about being able to just comfort and befriend her.”

  “Me too, but as they say, it don’t pay the bills.”

  “A contract to kill her husband might have paid a few bills. Taking her on as a client and doing the surveillance on her husband would have put some cash in the coffers.”

  “Not the reason for the appointment.”

  Christine was thoughtful for a moment.

  “Mrs. Clark thought it was.”

  “Mrs. Clark didn’t make the appointment. She just made the phone call.” I said.

  Christine smiled.

  “I think you’re right. It was a divine appointment, wasn’t it?”

  I smiled back.

  “They are the best kind.”

  Thirty-Three

  It was the first opportunity to get together and shoot since I had gotten back from Arkansas. Christine, Tony and I met at the indoor shooting range where we routinely meet and spent some time and ammunition practicing.

  Afterwards, as Tony, Christine and I emerged from the building; on our way out to dinner, we spotted a big black man leaning against the tailgate of my pickup, with his arms crossed.

  “Is this trouble, J.W.?” Tony growled beside me.

  I shook my head.

  “I don’t think so…”

  We spread out as we approached my truck. We wanted to make it more difficult for the man to hit moving targets, if he decided to start shooting. We also wanted to look for other possible threats; realizing one man might be just a diversion.

  Ironically, most people going into, or coming out of a shooting range are carrying guns that aren’t loaded.

  The man leaning against my truck didn’t move, except for his head which turned from one to the other of us as we approached. He was grinning.

  “Whoooeee, y’all sure are careful,” he said.

  “What can we do for you, Mr. Wilson?” I asked.

  Kirby Wilson slowly uncrossed his arms and casually held his hands up.

  “I’m not looking for any trouble. I just want to clear the air.”

  “Yeah, I recognize you.” Tony said.

  “Christine, this is Kirby Wilson, lately of the Tyler Police Department, now in private practice.”

  Christine flared her nostrils and set her mouth in a thin line.

  “A pleasure to meet you ma’am, I hope I didn’t scare you folks none,” Wilson smirked.

  “What do you want, Mr. Wilson?” I asked him.

  “I told you I wanted to talk.”

  “I told you to make an appointment.”

  He nodded and grinned again.

  “I did make an appointment, this is it.”

  How did you know where to find us?” Tony asked.

  “Oh please. Like this is some sort of secret. Everybody knows the three of you come here to shoot, on a regular basis. It don’t take much of a detective to figure it out.”

  “Again, and for the last time, what do you want?” I asked.

  “Well, I don’t want y’all to think badly of me. Sure, I had a little falling out with the department. I know you probably disapprove of my work and my client list, but why can’t we all just get along?”

  “You tailed me to Arkansas and nearly got me and my client killed.”

  “Oh come on now, that was just business. I never lifted a finger against you or the boy.”

  “No, you just marked the target, so somebody else could do the killing.” Tony observed.

  Kirby Wilson shrugged.

  “Nothing personal, just business.”

  “I trust the business we had between us is no longer an issue?” I said.

  “Yeah, I got no further interest. I wanted to tell you I think y’all have done a fine job of keeping the boy safe. I know all three of you were involved. It’s my understanding the threat to him is pretty much just… going away, if you catch my drift.”

  “Good, then I assume you won’t be following me around, any time soon.”

  “Oh, I don’t need to follow you, to find you, not any of you. I can find any of you anywhere, at any time, as you can see.” He was grinning like the Cheshire cat.

  “I suggest you stay far away from me, my friends and my clients.”

  “Oh, now that sounded like a threat. Lieutenant, did you hear that? This man is threatening me.”

  Tony just continued to scan the area, ignoring Wilson completely.

  Wilson shrugged.

  “Fine, I just wanted to let you know I hold nothing personal against any of you, and I have no intention of bothering you in the future.”

  “Good answer.”

  “But, business is business. You mind your business and I’ll mind my own.”

  “… As long as your business doesn’t interfere with my business.”

  He shrugged.

  “Time will tell.”

  “I’m telling you now, stay away from all of us.” I said.

  He nodded.

  “Nice talk,” he grinned again.

  Then, Kirby Wilson straightened up and started to walk away. He turned his head and called back over his shoulder.

  “Like I said, business is business.”

  Thirty-Four

  “Business is business. This is just a business decision, baby. There’s no money in it and we don’t want to pursue it any further.” Melody Doyle said.

  She was standing at the side of my desk. She leaned forward and put her hands on my arms.

  “Melody, this has become more than just an investigation into negligence on a job site. It looks like one of the workers was actually murdered.”

  I was trying not to look down the front of her blouse. Trying, but failing.

  She caught me looking and smiled seductively.

  “See anything you like?”

  I pushed my chair back and stood up.

  “Let me walk you back to your office. We can discuss this further as we walk.”

  “I’d much rather dance, baby. Come on and dance with me,” she purred.

  “Ms. Doyle, I’m serious. We can’t just drop this case.”

  “It’s done, we’re done. The construction company isn’t worth the time and the resources we’ve already committed trying to bring a suit against them. We would probably win in court, but we wouldn’t ever collect. The money just isn’t there, you as much as said so yourself. You’re the one who told us all about how the business is organized.”

  She had put her hands on my shoulders.

  “Oh, John, you’re so strong.”

  The door opened and in walked Christine. From the way she moved and the look on her face, for a moment, I thought she was going to punch Melody right in the face!

  “May I interrupt, whatever this is, to conduct some business?” she asked, between tightly clenched teeth.

  I saw Melody turn bright red. I figured she was embarrassed.

  I figured wrong.

  “What, your mommy never taught you to knock on a closed door?” Melody snarled.

  “What, your mommy never taught you not to throw yourself at a man?” Christine retorted.

  It was like watching a snake eat a mouse. I didn’t want to see it, but I just couldn’t look away.

  “Why don’t you mind your own business?”

  “This is my business! May I remind you whose office you’re standing in?”

  “Oh, I se
e how it is. You want him for yourself. Well, John and I have a thing going, and you aren’t woman enough to get between us.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing or hearing.

  “If you don’t walk right out of here, I’ll drag you out by your bleach bottle hair.” Christine spat.

  “OK, stop it! Now that’s enough,” I interrupted.

  There was something wrong with me. My voice didn’t sound right. It was much too husky. I didn’t want them to stop. I wanted to watch them fight and tear each other’s clothes off…

  Fortunately, Melody turned and stormed out.

  Christine slammed the door behind her.

  “Have you lost your mind?” She demanded, as she whirled around to face me.

  “Uhhh, I uhhh… I umm…” I stammered.

  “Oh good grief, men!” she barked.

  I held up my hands.

  “Hey, I didn’t invite her here. She just walked in, and…”

  “Well, it’s a good thing I just walked in, isn’t it?”

  I chuckled.

  “As a matter of fact, it is. Thank you.”

  “I walk away from my desk for five minutes, and this is what happens.”

  “Look, I don’t know what brought all this on. Oh yeah; Doyle, Doyle and Starnes are pulling the plug on the gross negligence case we were working for them.

  “Good!”

  “No, not good, this isn’t something we can just drop. They won’t be paying us, but the investigation has to go on.”

  “The good part is that woman won’t have any occasion to wend her way into your… office.”

  I nodded and took a deep breath.

  “Or do you want her to?”

  I went back to my desk.

  “I have to admit, it sure was tempting.”

  “Which was the whole point, don’t you think?”

  “I wasn’t thinking very well then, but I am now.”

  “We’ll see…”

  “… Bleach bottle hair?” I asked.

  Christine giggled.

  “I’m just saying.”

  Thirty-Five

  I managed to contact Gary by phone.

  “Are y’all still building that barn?”

  “No, the construction is finished. The painters are the only ones over there.”

 

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