Its a few minutes after midnight when I open the front door. Rachael is waiting for me still dressed in her scrubs. I sit on the couch next to her, drop the bag on the floor in front of me and open the bag Sure enough, lots of money. I count and divide it into two piles. I can’t even believe I’m doing this. I could take the whole bag, skip the country, and live like a king. But that isn’t an option. I could never just leave Jasmine to fend for herself. I ask Rachael if the medicines for Jasmine are working. She assures me she has brought all the necessary medicine and has started giving them to her. She changed Jasmines dressings and given her something to rest. My cell rings, it’s Buckle. I assure him all went well and we arrange to meet the next night at Harry’s. My mind is spinning. How far am I going with this? Am I really going into the drug and murder business? My answer is; I already have.
Rachael is sitting staring at the money and at me. I just look back and smile. She returns the smile. We walk up the steps, get undressed and jump in the shower together. I try to be as quiet as possible; I know Jasmine can hear everything. In bed I ask Rachael to move in with me, it would be much easier that way. She agrees to get her things that morning. I hope like hell I have not dragged her into something we will both regret.
Chapter 19
Thursday night, 9 pm, Buckle and I meet at Harry’s. I have a small gym bag with me; it contains his share of the profits. At his instructions I had kept the $200,000 original investment for future purchases. It amazing to me how much money you can stuff into a small bag. I already have a scotch waiting for him, again I paid. He sits and we drink, on the second scotch he says, “I have another shipment next week. Same amount as before. That 200K you kept will pay for it. But this is your pickup. Another thing, since we are partners now, why don’t you give me the recorder. I mean, what if you have a accident or something, I’m screwed.” He has a point, what if something should happen to me purely by accident, he I nod, “You’re right, but we need to get a few more transactions under our belt first. Maybe after we work together a little longer. Let’s take this one step at a time.” He nods, “OK, I’ll give you the pickup details by the end of the week”. He takes the bag of cash and departs. I finish another scotch; I have begun to acquire a taste for this expensive stuff. I leave a one hundred dollar tip for the barman and head for home.
At home it’s my turn to be sitting and waiting for Rachael. I spoke with Jasmine when I first arrived home, she is feeling much better. She is worried Sugar Bear and the other men will find her. I assure her that is impossible. She seems skeptical but accepts my statement as fact. Her wounds are healing and Rachael had changed the dressing that morning. She looks at me with those beautiful eyes, “What is going to happen to me.” I am almost speechless, “Jasmine, you aren’t a prisoner here. I just want you well. You are safe now and are free to leave anytime you want.” She smiled, “I know that, Rachael told me about you. She said I can trust you with my life. I just wondered when I am well, what will I do?” I nod, “Beautiful, I’ll put you on a flight home whenever you say so, you and your family could be reunited. She shakes her head, “I don’t remember my family, I just can’t remember much except the pain I felt with those men.” We sit for a short while, then she says, “I need to use the bathroom, will you help me” I give her a hand fully aware she is naked and beautiful under the covers. She asks if she can sit up for awhile. I get my late wife’s robe and put it on her, she uses the bathroom and then I help her down the stairs to the sofa.
We make small talk for a few minutes when Rachael walks in the front door. She is surprised to see Jasmine sitting with me, but breaks out in a huge smile. She kissed me than “You look so good, how are you feeling?” Jasmine has a big smile on her face. “Much better Rachael, thanks to you and Jessie.” They chat for a few minutes while I grab two beers and a ginger ale. We sit there like one big happy family, Jasmines robe has fallen open and her nudity is obvious. To say I feel awkward is the understatement. I try not to look but the view is fantastic. Rachael sees me looking and can’t help but smile. Thirty minutes later we help Jasmine up the stairs and into bed. Rachael and I go to the guest’s bedroom again. She looks at me and smiles, she knows I have a thing for redheads and just can’t resist that look. We kiss and head for the shower once again trying to be as quiet as possible. The warm water feels good, but not as good as her in my arms. She is smiling when she says, “Nice view hey baby, I saw where your interest was. You sure you never had just a little of that red head Jessie.” I look in her eyes and can’t tell she if pulling my chain. I assure her I am all hers, “I have all I want and need in my arms right now.” She smiles a knowing smile and we kiss and make love under the warm water.
I need to make a pickup the following Thursday night in Hoboken, New Jersey. I am to meet someone in Elysian park at 11 pm. This just keeps getting even stranger, obviously, I can’t fly to Hoboken. I can’t get a duffel bag of money or drugs on the plane. Even if I fly there and rent a car to come back, that leaves a paper trail. That means I have to drive there, make the pickup, and the payoff, then drive back. An awful lot of points of failure there, but not much of a choice. Thirteen hundred miles, two days up and two days back, weather permitting. OK, no other choice. I’m in so deep now, what have I got to lose? Actually a lot, but fuck it.
Chapter 20
Detective Ryan Thibodeaux and his partner Detective Rodney Greyfield had hunted down all of Sugars girls. They had questioned each of them about anyone who might have a grudge with Sugar. Other than competing pimps no one knew of anyone who might want to kill him. It was beginning to sound like Sugar was next in line for Sainthood. They asked about Simone, all the girls knew of her but none had seen her in the past few days. They had no idea where she had come from or what her last name was. No one knew where she lived between dates, other than the time she spent with Sugar. The sketch artist had come up with a composite of the white man last seen with Sugar. He looked like a million other guys in the city. They observed the autopsy of Sugar and learned only one thing that seemed odd. The knife wound on Sugars chest had some nylon fabric stuck in the wound. The coroner had no idea what that meant, the fabrics didn’t match anything Sugar was wearing. Every squad car in the city had the composite of the white man and a description of Simone, but so far nothing. It was like Simone had disappeared off the face of the earth. They re-canvassed the area around The Nest and the alley, nothing. This was starting to look bad for Thibodeaux’s clearance rate. His caseload was piling up and he had other murders to look into, so Sugar Bear was moved to the back burner.
Chapter 21
Saturday morning I took Rachael and Jasmine out for breakfast. Rachael and Jasmine had become close, Rachael trimmed Jasmine hair and it looked natural now. Still mostly black but cut neatly. Sitting at breakfast I look at them, what a lucky guy. Not one, but two beautiful women
sharing my table. “Ladies, I need to take a little trip. I’ll be leaving Sunday and coming back Saturday.” Rachael knows what I am up to but Jasmine, fortunately, has no clue. We enjoy our breakfast and take in an early movie. After the movie we grab an early dinner and head for home.
I think about all the things that could go wrong during this pickup. I have seen all the cop shows about drug deals going wrong. Somebody usually dies, I don’t want it to be me. Besides the High Standard Victor I have a Remington Model 870, 12 gauge shotgun. I reason the Victor may not be quite enough so I plan on the shotgun, but it is so large and unwieldy. I take it into my garage and using a hacksaw cut the barrel back. The barrel now is about sixteen inches long. Damn thing is still too big. I cut the stock off except for the hand grip just behind the receiver. I sand the hand grip down and cover it with friction tape. Now the whole package is about twenty four inches long and the friction tape give me a firm handhold. Now a way to carry it. I drill a hole in the small hand grip and put a swivel on it. I have an old canvas sling from a carry bag. I hook one end in the swivel and loop the other end around the barrel and c
hamber and securely tape it in place. I test it by hanging it over my shoulder and under my right arm. It fits nicely into my body, with a coat on it would not be visible, but can I shoot it without it blowing up? Only one way to find out. Sunday morning I take a ride on I-10 just before the Mississippi line. I pull on the side of the road and park. Many hunters park here and another car would not draw suspicion. I walk one hundred feet into the woods. I load the shotgun up with double-ought buckshot. I point at a tree, and flinch as I squeeze the trigger. Kicks like a mule but doesn’t blow up. I check the tree, major damage;, test completed.
I arrive home around 10am and find Rachael and Jasmine in the back yard enjoying a beautiful day. What a beautiful pair they make, every man’s dream come true. I guess it will remain my dream also, I might have a thing for redheads, but I have fallen in love with Rachael all over again. I have already packed the car and am prepared to head out. I hate to leave, the day and the company are so beautiful. I kiss the girls and reluctantly climb in my car.
I begin the long and uneventful drive to Hoboken. I make two overnight stops along the way. I pay for gas, food, and hotels with cash. No sense making it easy to track me by using credit cards. I stay at crappy little Interstate motels that don’t ask questions.
Chapter 22
Tuesday evening I arrive in Hoboken, I stay at a crappy little motel. Just before dark I ride to Elysian park to scout it out. The most valuable tool a scout/sniper has is preparation. I drive down Hudson Drive and slowly look over the area. Not much to see, trees and a statue of someone. I park and take a walk. Fairly good view of New York City and the Empire State Building, long winding pathways make a big circle around the park. The park has fountains, dog runs, and playgrounds. The fountains are not turned on, only in the summer. I am to meet my contact by one of the fountains on the west side Thursday night 10 PM, enough scouting. I have a bag with two hundred thousand dollars in my trunk and feel like a have a big target on my back. I make another scouting run by the park at 11pm Wednesday trying to get a feeling for the place at night. I make a mental note of the street lights that are out and those that are lit. I park and watch for any traffic that may pass, especially any police cars. At 1 AM I am satisfied I have all I need, or at least all I can get, and head to the motel.
Thursday night, I sling the shotgun over my shoulder and under my right arm. I put my overcoat only on my left arm. My right arm is inside my coat. I’m hoping the empty sleeve isn’t really noticed. This time I don’t even bother with the safety, bad memory from the last time. I drive to the park and make a couple of passes. Dark and cold, I don’t see anything unusual. I park on the corner of Hudson and Frank Sinatra Drive. I open the trunk and sling the money bag over my left shoulder. It’s about one half of a block to the fountain. It’s early, only 9:30, so I take the long walk completely around the park, approaching the fountain from the river side. No one is in site, the pucker factor has risen ten times as I approach the fountain. I make sure my coat is unbuttoned, just in case. I lay the money bag on the edge of the fountain which is concrete and about two feet high.
I stand for several minutes and two men approach from the road side and one makes his approach from the river. Shit, not a good situation. I tell myself to calm down, they are just being careful. All three stop ten feet from me, two in front and one in back. The pucker factor just rose even more; the hairs on my neck are tingling. One of them is carrying a large bag. He lays it on the edge of the fountain and steps back five feet. His partner moves to my left, now they are on three sides of me and the fountain is to my back. I try not to make any sudden movements; I don’t want to start something I can’t finish. I begin to move toward the drug bag. The guy on my left tells me to stop and to open the money bag. I pick up the money bag and open it. He steps forward and takes the bag. Never turning his back, he looks inside the bag, smiles and nods to his companions.
The guy directly in front of me reaches inside his jacket. My right hand is on the pistol grip of my shotgun. I catch a reflection of the gun being removed from his waistband. Everything goes into slow motion. As I swing the shotgun up I accidentally catch the guy on my left with the barrel. I hit him in his right elbow as he was reaching into his jacket. He grunts and I fall over the concrete edging and into the empty fountain. All hell breaks loose. The guy behind me fires a shot where I was standing. I roll over in the dirty fountain and squeeze the trigger. A loud explosion and flash temporally blind my attackers. I had instinctively closed my eyes when I fired the shotgun. I rack in another round, roll onto one knee and see the guy with my bag. I point at him and squeeze another shot. He is lifted off his feet and slammed into his companion who is closing from the front. Another shot flies by me and impacts the center of the fountain, no time to think I am hit with pieces of concrete. I rack another shell and fire in the direction of the last flash. I can’t see if I hit anything. The shotgun knocked me on my back and that probably saved my life. Another shot rings out, I rack and fire again in the general direction of the flash. I know I have one shot left; I rack again and wait nothing. They must have run. I crawl up on one knee. The man with the money bag is lying on his back, his chest is open and blood is pumping out. I swing toward the guy on the left. It looks like a couple of buckshot’s caught him in the leg. He is bleeding and hollering in pain. He forgot all about me and is just trying to stop the bleeding. At first I don’t see number three, and then I see him move to my right. He stands up from behind the edge of the fountain about ten feet away. He raises his pistol and fires. How the hell he could miss at that range, I don’t know, but he does. I drop to one knee and fire my last shot. I catch him in the face and he does a flip backward. Two are down for good but number three, the guy that came from the river side, is now crawling. He is trying to reach his pistol which he dropped when hit in the leg.
I jump over the fountain rail and almost fall on my face. My foot gets caught on the wall. I extend my hands to break my fall and land on his leg, the one with the holes in it. I feel the bone give under my weight. The pellet must have broken it. His pain stops him cold. All thoughts of grabbing his pistol are forgotten. Pain is the only thing he feels. I roll on my side and kick towards his body. I catch him in the left shoulder. He is knocked away from the gun. I manage to struggle to my feet and kick again. This time I catch him in the side of the head. I don’t know how much damage I’ve done, but I know he won’t be coming after me for awhile. The whole thing lasted less than fifteen seconds and it’s over. But now I have to get the hell out of here. I grab number three’s pistol, just in case there are more hiding in the trees. I grab both bags and take off for my car. I’m disoriented but get lucky and come out right where it is parked. I hit the remote; throw both bags in the trunk, jump in and haul ass. As I am heading toward the city two police cruiser, with lights and sirens pass on the way in. I guess someone heard all the shooting. No time for a hotel tonight. I have studied a map of the area and know what I have to do. I head west towards Palisades Ave and turn South on Palisades. My heart is pumping one hundred miles per hour. Every nerve in me says drive faster, but I must take it easy. If I’m stopped for speeding now it’s all over. I hit the I-78 entrance and get on the expressway. I stay on 78 until it intersects with I-95 and head south. I drive for four hours. The adrenaline has drained me and I cannot go anymore. I find a small Motel 6 just off the interstate and collapse for the night.
Chapter 23
I wake up at 8 AM and I am still exhausted. I am in the same dirty clothes I had on last night. I just fell into bed and didn’t even get undressed. I splash water on my face, and in the mirror see marks from the concrete that hit me. I walk out to my car, open the trunk and take both bags into the room. I know the one contains the money I had with me. I open the other and find the drugs. They must have come to make the deal and got greedy when they saw I was alone. Too fucking bad for them. I don’t have a change of clothes with me, it is all still in the other motel. I make a mental note to never leave any
thing at a motel again. I shower, put the dirty clothes back on and check out. I drive south on I-95 all the way to Richmond, Virginia. I find a Walmart and buy a change of clothes, razor, and toothbrush, all cash of course. I find another Interstate motel. I clean up, change and go to a McDonald’s. I am realizing I haven’t eaten in over twenty four hours. I return to the motel and switch on the news. CNN is carrying a story about the triple murder in Hoboken. So number three must have bled out, Tough shit. No leads, no suspects, a drug deal gone badly. All the dead men had long criminal records. All I could think of, was they should have picked another profession. I turn in and get a good solid eight hour sleep. I plan on driving all the way to New Orleans on Saturday.
I arrive home, Jasmine is in the living room watching TV and Rachael is at work. Jasmine has had ample time alone to run, but she chose to stay. I guess she is realizing she is safe here. She is looking healthier, her color has returned and her hair is just beginning to grow out. We kiss hello and I ask how she is feeling, I mention she is looking much better. She is glowing with praise for Rachael and how much help she has been. She is feeling much better and has been sitting out in the sun to help get some color back. She is smiling now. I tell her she needs to get some clothes to perk her up more. She completely agrees since she is still in the robe I gave her. I promise her we would go shopping the next day so Rachael could help her pick some nice things.
I call Buckle, he is about to bust a gut, he has been trying to call me for two days. I saw his number, but figured he could wait. He had heard about the shootings in Hoboken and was glad I was safe. Sure he was, if I was dead the recording would have been discovered. He and I needed to have a little talk about his choice of business associates. We set up a meet for that night.