Chapter 23

Roger Traubel sat in his cell, quietly seething. He would pay that bitch back for sending him here. A fucking jail cell was no place for someone like him. He was two days away from his release and he was counting the hours. He was two days away from payback. Nobody fucked with Roger Traubel ... nobody!

"Traubel ... up! Inspection! You've got a visitor." It was an unfamiliar order from the guard. He'd had only one visitor in the past two years and that was his lawyer, trying to get him to pay his bill. The cell door slid aside and the guard walked in to inspect the cell and the prisoner. "March!" Roger Traubel was curious. Just two days from release and someone wanted to see him. What was this about? It couldn't be that lawyer again. He'd already attached his property for payment. Who was it?

"Sit down here," the guard ordered.

Traubel sat and waited to see who would appear on the other side of the Plexiglas panel. A moment later, a very tall, very tough looking man sat down opposite him and picked up the handset on his side. Roger picked up his set and waited for the stranger to begin.

"Roger Traubel?" It was a forceful voice and to Roger's mind, quite cold.

"Yah ... who are you?"

"That's not important, but what I'm going to tell you is. Are you paying attention?" Again, the cold voice.

"Go ahead."

"If I find out you have been within a hundred yards of any of your former girlfriends, you will be dealt with severely. Do I make myself clear?"

"Fuck you, asshole. Who do you think you are?" There was just the hint of uncertainty in Roger's voice.

"I am your worst enemy, Roger. I have a personal thing about guys who beat on women. It's so personal, that I deal with it myself and no one has escaped punishment. Do I make myself clear?"

"Don't threaten me, asshole. I've seen guys like you before. All talk and no action. You don't frighten me." Still the brave front, but again, a hint of uncertainty.

"Tell you what, Roger, you ask the guard who I am. You write it down so that you'll remember it. I promise you, once I deal with you, you'll never forget it. This is a friendly warning to a guy who finds it impossible to keep his temper from a guy who never, ever loses his. Am I making myself clear?"

"You don't frighten me. I can look after myself," Roger spat.

"You aren't acting very smart, Roger. You're asking for trouble and I promise you, you'll get it if you go anywhere near any, and I do mean any, of your ex-girlfriends. There's a reason they are ex-girlfriends. You didn't treat them very well and they don't want any part of you. You aren't welcome anywhere near any of them and I will be watching to make sure you don't do anything stupid. Get it?"

"Those broads needed to be taught a lesson. They needed to do what they were told without arguing. I just made sure they understood it," he bragged.

"I don't have any time for a big guy like you beating on a little woman because he's not afraid they will hit back. That just makes you gutless, Roger. You beat on women because you can't handle a real man ... can you?"

Roger just smirked and snorted his contempt for the big man. There was nothing more to be said and he just sat there waiting for the stranger to finish.

"You've been warned, Roger. You get only one warning." With that, the big man rose and turned away, walking from the interview room. Roger watched him go and waited for the guard to come and escort him back to his cell. As an afterthought, he turned to the attendant at the door.

"Who was that guy?"

"Uhhhh ... Martin Bloodstone, it says here. Funny though, he had CIA I.D. You some kind of spy or terrorist or something?" the guard asked with a smirk.

"No ... no ... nothing like that," he answered hesitantly. What the hell was a CIA guy doing here warning him off? It didn't make sense. He would have to think about his plan for revenge on that bitch, Zena. Somehow, she would still have to pay, but he would have to be careful. He pushed his concerns to the back of his mind and allowed his anger for the woman to move back to the forefront of his thoughts. Just two more days to freedom, and two more days before he could get his revenge.

Tex Langhorn knocked on Bill Orton's door frame before entering. Bill was on the phone and waved Tex to his customary seat opposite him. He finished his conversation and leaned forward, eager to hear the big man's report.

"Well, what do you know about Roger Traubel, Tex?"

"More than I care to. He's nothing if not consistent. He has a record from previous complaints for assault on women that make him the creep of the county. I found five women that he beat on, including Zena. None of them pressed charges because they couldn't get any support or protection from the police. Most of them just moved away, leaving him in their apartments in a couple of cases. He's a real piece of shit."

"What do you think he'll do?"

"I'm pretty sure he'll take a stab at Zena ... oops ... sorry ... poor choice of words," he apologized.

"Did you talk to him?"

"Yah ... he put on a brave front, but I think I got his attention. The trouble is boss, he loses his cool and then he forgets all the messages his brain might send him. We're just going to have to watch him like a hawk and intercept him if he figures out where Zena is. She doesn't have a listed number and she's moved since he was sent up, but just the same, he can find her if he has some contacts. No sense in not being on our toes."

"OK, Tex. Let's not take anything for granted. He's not stupid, just crazy," Bill said with a frown.

"I've got someone following him 24/7. We'll know if he tries anything at all."

"Thanks, Tex. I'm worried, but I feel better with you handling this. The cops are hopeless at protecting people. Keep me posted, please."

"You got it, Boss. I'll call you the minute he walks out of Carlton Correctional. He won't get a chance at Zena if I can help it." Tex rose, nodded and left the office. Bill leaned back in his chair and felt the emptiness in his stomach. He wanted this to be over with quickly. He would die if anything happened to Zena. He had to trust Tex and his methods. There was no other way.

Roger Traubel put down the phone as he finished writing the address of Zena Wildman on his note pad. He snorted his contempt for her attempt to escape him. It had simply been a matter of checking with her former employer to get her forwarding address. He simply had to pretend he was from a catalogue mail order company and had a package for her. It was simple, but worked like a charm. She had moved to Cambelltown. It would be a simple matter to get to her. He just had to be careful that he didn't run into any unexpected resistance.

With his limited financial resources, he got his car out of storage and got it running again. It was nothing special, but that was an advantage in these circumstances. It wouldn't stick out and be memorable. All that remained now was to be patient and wait for his chance. Oh yes ... and be careful. That big guy couldn't guard all five of his ex's at one time. Sooner or later he'd get his chance.

Tex watched the man back out of his parking space and head to the highway. It was almost a certainty that he would turn right toward Cambelltown, but the big security agent took nothing for granted. However, Roger did the predictable, made a right and began the one hour drive to Zena's new home. He would have no idea he was being followed. Tex was a pro and pros didn't make it obvious they were following someone. This project was a special one for him. He took this personally. Bill was a good man and a good friend. He would make sure nothing happened to Zena. He would look after it himself.

Roger pulled into the restaurant parking lot and found a space near the back perimeter. The lot was enclosed with a chain link fence and by parking nose-in, he could see the back of the apartment building where Zena now lived. He had no idea which apartments faced the back, but it didn't really matter. He planned to deal with her away from her home. He would wait until she left and would follow her. It was just a matter of opportunity and timing. He would get her, one way or another.