Chapter 2: Quick and Dirty #1

Dale Rogers the new chief.
Mayor Laura Jamison
Lester Haines Sightly heavy night officer.
Mike Simpson day officer. Gym rat also a short 5’4”
Lucy Kerby chubby young secretary.
Jim Sloan evening officer
Adams the realtor.
Wesley Brown handyman.
Andrew Rice my roof repairman and plumbing repairman
Betty Booth the Sergeant at arms of Happy Valley
Colonel Williams rep for Happy valley
Diane Rogers his ex wife
Sarah Rogers his daughter
Wilson Thomas Daine’s bf
Allison Dempsey lucy’s temp
Raul andrew rice helper
Juanita Rauls wife
Myra Rauls daughter and Sarah friend.
Randy Reynolds Sarah’s bf
Mallo and Silvers the SBI Agents.
Marty the SBI computer nerd.
Angelo Martinez the pornographer
building 513 main st

Mallo called me first, “We think that you and Betty need to go into protective custody.”

“Absolutely not. I’m not going anywhere. Cops live with this kind of shit all the time. I can’t speak for Ms Booth though.” I hoped she would take the custody deal. It had only been a couple of days but it looked like a real clash of personalities was on the way.

“Okay, I hope this isn’t a case of ‘It’s your funeral.” Mallo said.

“Not as much as I hope that,” I said.

I was at the office at the time of the call. Since Betty was at the building I would have to wait until after work to ask her. “Or not,” I said to no one, as she rode up on Sarah’s bicycle.

“Come on chief, I’ll buy you one of those artery choking burgers. We have things to discuss,” Betty said.

“It’s ten in the morning, but I guess Coffee and a sausage biscuit isn’t out of the question,” I suggested.

I got one of the two official police bikes out of the training room and rode it around the building and into the street. I rode the four blocks to the Diner. The first thing I noticed was that Betty was wearing a sweat vest. The sweat vest was a term I might have invented. It was a baggy sweat shirt with the sleeves chopped off completely. Betty wore one of those when she wanted to hide the colt 1911.45 pistol’s handle in her butt holster. Her butt holster fit inside her waist band. She had the thin leather covered with one of the sweat shirt sleeves for comfort.

Since I was in my navy blue fatigues, I wore my .38 colt detective special in and upside down shoulder holster. Anyone who saw me knew I was armed, Betty not so much.

We took a table in the far corner. Tisha brought coffee to the table with her order pad. “I’ll have a sausage biscuit,” I said.

“You will if we got any thing left. We officially stopped serving breakfast fifteen minutes ago. How about you Miss Booth,” she said with a smile.

“Just a plain egg sandwich on a biscuit or a hamburger bun,” Betty said.

“I can for sure do that,” she said smiling at Betty.

“Now I done seen everything.” I said in a fake dialect. “The waitress I talk to everyday turning cold because I’m with you.”

“I think it’s called flirting Rogers,” Betty said with a smile.

“This is really embarrassing,” I said.

“Hey I promise not to steal your girls, if you do the same,” Betty suggested with a leer. “On a less enjoyable note. Mallo tells me you aren’t going into hiding.

“Cops know the score, and besides I have the ideal place to hold up,” I said.

“Yes you do. Now on that note, the Colonel told me to go on leave until the danger to the residents of the valley is over. That isn’t going to happen, so I have no choice.” Betty said.

I was hoping against hope. “I completely understand.” I said hoping she was choosing the witness protection option.

“Understand what? I have no choice but to ask you to take me in for a while. It’s just until the trial is over. Once that asshole is inside, we are clear of his friends, friends.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “That could be a while.”

“I have money, if that is your worry. I have a disability from the Army and my savings,” she informed me.

“I’d love to hire you as a part time cop, but living with me and working for me wouldn’t be right,” I said.

“Name a figure to rent me a room,” she suggested.

“A hundred a week and we go 50/50 on extras,” I said.

“What extras?” she asked.

“Pizza, donuts, groceries, and the laundry and cleaning lady,” I said. “You dear are as big of a pig as me.”

“That isn’t fair,” she said. “A hundred a week includes everything but Pizza and food. I’ll take my laundry to the DYI.”

“All right, I might can find you some work. Something that wouldn’t make you a target,” I suggested.

“I have got that covered. A friend of mine works for a mortgage company. They have a problem with people who are behind abandoning their houses. They want to know as soon as possible, so they can change the locks and board them up. They also need a picture for their insurance company’s files. So they pay a few bucks to have someone go out and check their delinquent accounts. It’s never the same route twice, and my hours would be my own,” she explained. “It would make me harder to ambush than you.”

“You might be right, but I still think the witness program is an option for you. While you decide the room is yours, if you want it.”

“Of course I do. The rent is satisfactory so I’ll transfer the money to your account. Just give me the numbers,” Betty said.

“You might look into getting a PI license while you wait,” I suggested.

“Rogers this is not a career, it’s just a way to pass time and earn some cash,” she said. “I planning on going back to the valley.”

“So is photographing cheating spouses. Might as well get some extra use out of the photo equipment we are going to have to buy,” I suggested.

“Why are we going to have to buy photo equipment?” Betty asked.

“I’m afraid that these guys are old school Russians. Very violent and don’t give a damn how much collateral damage they leave in their wake. I might have to take a leave of absence till after the trial. I also do not cope well with boredom. As you pointed out once, two guns are better than one,” I suggested.

“I’ve got the tiny Korean Econo box and your personal vehicle is a ten year old pickup truck,” Betty suggested. “Do we need a new car?”

“I don’t think so. I never put much faith in running from bad guys. We will just stand our ground, if they come for us.” I suggested. “While we figure this out, I’ll keep going into the office and you can work your property checking job. You should be able to do that while the state processes our application for a PI license.”

“Are you doing this just to give me a new career?” she asked.

“No, I’m doing it in case the mayor gets the same spine problems your colonel has,” I replied. “I might need a place for a soft landing. Besides I always fashioned myself a Mike Hammer type.”

“Who?” she asked.

“Mike Hammer, Mickey Spillane’s PI,” I answerer. “You know the .45 and the brass knuckles kind of guy.”

“Hate to tell you this Rogers, but I pack the .45, while you are holding a tiny little colt five shot revolver.” Betty said.

“Hey I got a .357 magnum as well,” I added with a chuckle. “I might also remind you it was my shotgun you had during the raid.”

“Well that is true. Let’s stop this. I admit yours is bigger,” Betty said.

“Good,” I laughed.

I went back to work that afternoon while Bette filled out the paperwork for her PI license. I was her reference, and Mallo cosigned the application. Betty faxed the application then Mallo hand carried it through. It was pretty much a done deal that night.

Of course we didn’t know that the next morning, so she continued setting up the mortgage job. The pay was crap, but it was more important for her to stay busy than to make a ton of money. She was like me. If push came to shove we could get by on the pensions. Neither of us wanted to live on canned tuna and potato chips, but it could be done.

We had developed a habit of checking the tape over our mornings coffee. I knew the images weren’t on tape, but thought patterns were hard to change. Most nights there were a few local cars, and a bike or two. Since the midnight cop wasn’t a bike enthusiast, the bikes painted black and white came through before midnight. After midnight the bikes were an anomaly and therefore suspect. A closer look identified them as kids on the way home from a date, or from some minor indiscretions. Strange cars were a more serious concern to us.