Cahill

I could hear the din from the bar as I exited my SUV and I was still almost a block away. What a shame! I knew from long experience that would change as soon as my foot crossed the threshold. I tend to have that effect on people. I’m six feet six inches tall and I weigh an even 250 pounds—all of it broad shouldered muscle. My Body Mass Index at my last physical was less than four percent. My light brown hair is styled exactly the way it’s been for the past fifteen years—ever since I first joined the Navy. Sure enough, no sooner had I taken my first step into the bar than the noise died. When I turned left and stepped up to the bar the people there couldn’t back away fast enough. I took a stool in the middle of the empty space and sat down, waiting for the bartender to approach. “I’m not looking for any trouble.” “Good…neither am I. Give me a ginger ale.” He reached under the bar for a glass and some ice. Twenty seconds later he slid the glass in my direction. I pulled a fiver from my pocket and dropped it on the bar. He ignored it and walked away to draw a few beers and pour some wine. It looked to me like this was a pretty cheap crowd. Checking up and down the bar all I could see were longnecks and drafts. I reached into the lower left pocket of my cargo pants. Like almost everything else I was wearing they were a true deep navy blue. My heavy shoes were black as was my wide belt. My belt said as much about me as the bold white lettering across my chest. Just below the American flag over my heart were the letters that were my life—U. S. MARSHAL. On my right hip was my nickel plated .44 Magnum Colt Python, just behind two speed loaders in addition to the twenty-four rounds on the belt. On my left hip was my ASP Talon baton—every bit as deadly a weapon in my hands as the revolver. A pouch at the back of my right hip held my stainless steel handcuffs and its partner on the opposite side held my radio—my link to my backup team. I placed the photo flat on the bar as the bartender returned to me. “I’ll have another,” I said in a loud voice, continuing so I wouldn’t be overheard. “Don’t pick it up and don’t make a production of looking at it. I’ve been told that he comes here a lot. Is he here tonight? If he is and he escapes because you’ve given me away I’ll see to it that you’re arrested for obstruction of justice.” He gulped a few times but did as he was told, nodding slightly in response. I continued almost at a whisper. “If my nose is pointing to twelve o’clock, my right ear to three, the back of my head to six, and my left ear to nine, tell me where he is. Again, don’t point or do anything obvious and we’ll be fine.” He pretended to wipe the bar as he whispered, “About 4:30 with his back to you.” I picked up the reflection in the mirror then asked, “Red shirt with black and white stripes, looking away from me?” He nodded again. Now, in my normal tone of voice I asked, “Where’s the men’s room?”

Fredrick_Udele · Fantasia

Classificações insuficientes

69 Chs

CHAPTER 14

There was a cloth covering the rear of the bar and once I slid it aside we could see the evidence of his crime. There were more than a dozen bottles with homemade labels taped on. One said "JW Blue" and others said "Grey Goose," "Skyy," both excellent and expensive vodkas. Others said "Tanqueray" and "Bombay Sapphire." Among the bourbons were "Jefferson's Presidential" and "Kentucky Gentleman," both of which sold for more than $300 a bottle. There were also bottles for the expensive brandies and cognacs being held for after dinner. Also clearly visible were a number of ultra cheap store brand liquors.

Jonathan Bascomb's face turned a shade of deep red, but before he spoke I whipped out my ID and began to recite the Miranda warning. "You can remain silent or you can tell us who is behind this plot. You've changed enough bottles for this to be considered grand larceny in most states. Something tells me you're not in this alone."

"Please…I'm a college student. If I get sent to jail my folks will kill me and I'll lose my scholarship."

"Fine, who are you working for?"

"Mr. Haynes."

"Carl Haynes, the city councilman?"

"No, I think his name is Jeremy. He has a lot of scams he runs."

"Like what?" I wasn't about to let the matter drop until I had every bit of information I could get on this rat.

"I know for a fact that he deals in pot and meth. My roommate bought some from him. I also heard you can get pills like Oxy from him."

"Jonathan, I think we need to take this inside." He agreed and as I turned I saw Lucy trying desperately to fend off her mother's "friend." Fortunately, I had just the solution. "Max," I said as I pointed at her. "Lucy…now." Max looked, saw Lucy in trouble, and sprinted to her. A second later her "suitor" couldn't back away fast enough. Even Jonathan laughed like crazy as we led the bartender into Jonathan's office.

His name was Jack Perkins and he was a student at Memphis University. He wrote a statement outlining his involvement, how much he was being paid, and how he would get the illegal bottles to Haynes. Once his statement had been dated, signed, and witnessed I took a photo of him and his driver's license and sent him back to work. "We need to sit on this, Jonathan, until I become chief. Then we'll blow this asshole out of the water. I'm afraid if we do it now his father will use his influence to quash the entire deal."

"I agree. This is exactly the reason why I thought we needed an outsider in the position." He began to walk out, but I asked for a few more minutes of his time.

"I think you know that I've been staying with Lucy and we've been seeing a lot of each other over the past ten days."

"Okay."

"Early last week she asked me how I felt about her and I told her that I could see myself falling for her big time, but it was too soon to tell her that I loved her. I was wrong. I am in love with her…very much."

"I see. How does she feel about you?"

"The same, at least that's what she's told me."

"Then I guess you're not sleeping on the couch."

"That's a subject I'll never discuss with you or anyone else. Bottom line is that I've asked her to marry me and she has agreed, but she told me that I had to ask for her hand. That's what I'm doing now."

"What happens if I say no?"

"Nothing, except I'll probably not get the chief's job and Lucy will move to Wilmington, North Carolina to be with me. I have a small apartment in Carolina Beach. I'm sure you'd like to have her nearby because we've agreed to start a family as soon as possible. I'm sure you know that I have my own money so I have no interest in hers."

"I guess I don't have many options, Matt, so welcome to our family." He rose, shook my hand, and laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"My wife has been encouraging Donald Craig to pursue Lucille. He's the one your dog chased away. Can I announce the engagement tonight?"

"I don't see why not, but I would like to discuss it with Lucy first and you might want to mention it to Mrs. Bascomb." He laughed at that, then we shook hands again and, to my surprise, he hugged me. Of course, I hugged him back.

Lucy was seated on a cushioned loveseat with Max at her side when I approached. She rose and I kissed her. "He approved and wants to make an announcement tonight. I told him I wanted to talk to you first. I see your suitor got cold feet."

"He was panting worse than Max. You should have seen his eyes when I pointed Max out to him. They must have been as big as quarters. Max has been protecting me ever since. I got him a plate of pulled pork as a reward. I hope you don't mind. He seemed to like it."

No, I don't mind. I'm glad he'll eat for you. It shows that he's accepted you. He'll protect you now as much as he will me. Hopefully, Mr. Craig will be discouraged from chasing you, especially when your father makes his announcement."

"Hopefully, my mother will be discouraged. She's tried to shove that ass down my throat for the past two years. She thinks he's a good catch. I think he's a colossal bore."

We heard Jonathan tap on his glass, asking for attention. "Please excuse me, but I have an important announcement to make. Marylou and I have waited a long time for this. We learned a few minutes ago that our daughter Lucille is engaged to Marshal Matt Cahill. We don't have any details yet on the wedding, but I propose a toast to Lucille and Matt." He held his glass up and there were a number of salutes. Lucy and I stood holding hands until she pulled my head down for a long kiss.

We received the congratulations of everyone present before we were allowed to leave. I had held the door for Lucy before allowing Max into the back seat. By the time I had walked around to my door, Lucy had slid up onto the console. I was greeted by a huge hug and an even bigger kiss as soon as I was seated. Lucy broke it almost five minutes later, only because Max had pushed his muzzle between us. He gave us a low "Woof," telling me how happy he was. Anyone who thinks that dogs don't have emotions knows nothing about dogs. Lucy whispered, "I do love you so much, Matt. I loved the way you stood up to my parents. I didn't tell you this before, but I'd never met anyone who I thought was strong enough to do it. My parents would walk all over anyone if they thought they could. You showed them today that they can't—that you're going to be your own man. I doubt that you can realize how important that is going to be for you…for us."

I couldn't think of anything to say in response so I stayed silent as I backed out and drove down the drive toward Lucy's and my temporary home, Max's massive head resting on Lucy's shoulder.

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