The man that Scotch had thought was Duff turned his stool to face him.
The new guy had dark hair and eyes similar to Duff’s. The man also
had heavy jowls along with a weak chin as opposed Duff’s more
defined facial features. The new guy was also pointing a gun at him.
Scotch listened
for movement but didn’t hear anything coming from Fluffy’s
direction. Either this was a delicate matter or Fluffy was such a
newbie that he couldn’t be trusted with his own weapon. Scotch
turned his head briefly. Fluffy’s already bloodless complexion had
not paled nor did he appear jittery or anxious. Scotch looked for
perspiration on the man’s forehead, another sign that he was in
over his head. There was nothing.
Scotch rose from
his seat slowly. He crossed to Ursula’s booth and sat down. “There
are four of you here. Only two of you have weapons. Your newbie is on
the job but not nervous so you must only be here to
talk. From the imitate size of your group I am going to surmise that
this a delicate matter.”
Ursula’s eyes
brightened and one corner of her mouth turned up in a smile. “There
are only three of us here Scotch. You must be losing your touch.”
Scotch leaned
across the table and whispered, “There are four of you. Duff is
hiding behind the counter. I can smell him from here.” He leaned
back against the seat and continued. “Which also explains your new
recruit being weaponless. You didn’t want to take the chance that
gun fire would be exchanged, he would miss me and hit Duff instead.
He must pull to the left when he shoots. Ergo, no gun for Fluffy.”
“Fluffy?”
Ursula asked.
“When I first
spotted him he was standing in a dog park.” Scotch turned around and called out to the man. “Have you checked your shoes lately? You
probably stepped in something.”
“You’re the
only one who’s stepped in something. Cheeky blighter.” Fluffy’s
long legs allowed him to cross the diner quickly. Duff Look Alike
a.k.a. Ursula’s Thug at the Counter had to hustle in order to block
Fluffy’s path.
“Down boy.”
Duff Look Alike said.
Ursula looked at
Fluffy, “Lock the front door, sit back down, and be quiet if you
want to get paid.”
“You said that
you wired my bank with the money an hour ago.” Fluffy argued,
looking stricken.
One corner of
Ursula’s mouth turned up in a smile, “Lesson Number Three. If a
client says that they are sending you the money before the job is
done then they’re lying. Always check your bank account before
leaving for work.”
“Lesson Three.”
Scotch repeated. “How long ago did you bring him on?”
“Yesterday.”
Ursula answered.
Scotch looked at
Fluffy. “Three lessons in twenty-four hours? You are new at
this.”
Fluffy glared at
Scotch then at Ursula. He walked over to the front door, locked it,
and sat down quietly looking uncomfortable.
“You and Duff
cover the other doors.” She said to Duff Look Alike. “This is a
private conversation.”
Scotch watched
Ursula’s team as they made themselves scarce. He turned his
attention back to her. “You used to be more discerning about who
you hired.”
“I also used to be
off the radar.” She countered. “Fewer people want to work with
you when your long term employees keep turning up dead.”
Before Pen began
her search she needed to see to it that the men in the black SUV
downstairs stayed put and did not wander off. She looked at her
reflection in the mirror and hoped she could pull this off. She had
chosen something long, white, and silky with lace over the parts that
benefit from being accentuated. At first she was concerned that
choosing the most conservative looking item in the closet would not
be sufficient. There were nighties of all kind in there. Everything
from leather ensembles with matching whips to ruffled white and pink
numbers with tiny aprons. After sifting through outfit number sixteen
she wondered if Scotch had that many encounters or if it was just
wishful thinking. “If I find a case of condoms somewhere it’s all
in his head. Just like Aunt Serendipity and her collection of wedding
veils.”
Pen took a deep
breath and slowly eased her way into their visitors’ line of sight.
Her calculated risk that leaving something to the imagination could
be every bit as effective as showing everything was confirmed when
one man hit his head on the outside of the vehicle. Another one had
to have his hand stilled by the others before he could honk his
approval. She mentally counted for sixty seconds and slowly backed
out of the window to return to the task at hand.
Pen looked at the
clock. Scotch had been gone for approximately thirty minutes. She
anticipated that she had thirty to forty-five minutes to herself
before chances increased that the men in the SUV outside would
either call it a night or wonder if Scotch had taken another route
outside the building and go looking for him. It was not much time to
find what she was looking for.
She started with
his drink cabinet finding nothing but alcohol and cut glass tumblers.
The closets yielded little information as well. Much of Scotch’s
money seemed to go into clothes and furnishings. Pen did appreciate
his home library and wondered what it would be like to spend several
days just exploring it.
There was nothing
in the bathroom except a wide range of grooming products. “This is
all impressive Scotch but where are you in all of this?” She commented. Pen checked the nightstands and found little more
than the usual items including half read copies of both Chaucer and
another book called Spy Game. She recognized the men on the
cover. “That was a movie not a book.” Pen flipped through the
paperback but did not know what she was looking for she eventually
abandoned her search tossing it on to the bed.
“Now for the
bed.” The first thing she noticed was the texture of the blankets.
They were rough. The bed sheets weren’t much better. If the bed had
been any harder it would have been made of nails. “This is out of
character.” She whispered. Pen took a small flashlight from her
handbag and began looking around the base of the bed. She laid down
on the floor to take a look underneath but there was solid wood
hiding behind its skirt. She began running her fingers along the wood
anywhere they would fit.
“There you are.”
She pushed a button, not knowing what was coming next, Pen stood up
and got out of the way. The bed slid to the left and a section of the
wall that had been concealed by the bed lifted. Lights came on
revealing a well lit room.
“It looks like
things just got interesting.” She said. She looked at the book she
had abandoned minutes earlier, picking it up, Pen entered the hidden
room.
*This
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events,
locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s
imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.