Chapter 25

I slept late since I didn’t get to bed until late the night before. Which was why I pulled into my parking lot with the police car already in the driveway. I pulled in beside it, then maneuvered the bike onto the covered deck. I planned to clean the bike before returning it to its spot inside the house by the front door. The officer in uniform and the woman in civilian clothes exited the car.

“I turned to them, once I had the bike locked to the handrail on the deck. “So is everything alright?’” I asked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be,” the woman asked.

“Who might you be?” I asked.

Detective Lois Bell,” she said. “So what could be wrong?”

“Something should be, since you seem to be holding my pistol for ransom,” I said.

“Not really, it’s evidence in an officer involved shooting,” she said.

“Technically, I’m not sure that’s what I would call it. The officer never got off a shot. She was the victim of an attempted murder,” I suggested.

“That is true technically. So would you mind answering a few questions for me?” she asked.

“If the questions pertain to the incident of course. If you just want to harass me, then I will want to call a lawyer. My lawyer is from Washington, so it might take a while before you can arrange a time. So what is it to be?” I asked.

“Why were you monitoring your CCTV that time of the night?” she began.

“I wasn’t the CCTV is my screen saver. As I was getting ready for bed I glanced at the monitor. There was a broken down car in the road in front of the old Sadie Mae Saloon. Since I now own it, I called 911 Then I sat down to be sure he was not up to something criminal.” I explained yet again.

“And you just happened to have the pistol handy?” She asked.

“I did. I keep it handy,” I replied.

“Why would you do that?” she asked insinuating there was something sinister about “Well if that happened after 1999it.

“Home protection,” I replied simply.

“Okay, so with no hesitation your rushed out the door and engaged the shooter?” she asked.

“We have been over this several times. You know that’s what happened,” I said.

“What if I told you we have evidence that your pistol was used in a suspicious death?” she asked.

“Well if that happened after 1999, I would say you’d made a mistake.” Prior to that the pistol belonged to the United States Air Force. I bought it at a surplus auction. It was part of the weapons issued to pilots during the Vietnam war. Could I ask you a questions now?”

“Of course,” she replied. “I may not answer, but ask away.”

“Would you rather that a citizen not come to the aid of a police officer in his or her time of need?” I smiled at her.

“That pretty much ends our interview,” she suggested.

“Interview, I thought these were just friendly questions,” I said.

I had noticed earlier that she carried a manila envelope. I figured it was filled with papers. When she handed it to me, I recognized it by its weight. It had to be the 1911 Remington. My antique from the Vietnam war. It had a slightly worn green finish, which was how I recognized it as mine.

“So this is how the Siler City police department returns seized property,” I suggested.

“Of course not,” the officer said. “Evidently it’s how the SBI does it.”

“Oh my god Lois, you failed to properly identify yourself,” I said nastily.

“Its Detective Bell to you,” she said.

“Of course it is Lois,” I said taking the envelope and going inside my lock shop home. I watched them drive away.

I decided to check for a surveillance team on me for a while. I had a bunch of cash tied up in the Tasha project, but I wasn’t desperate to get income from it yet. It might turn out to be a question of who could hold out the longest.

Since it was close to noon, I skipped breakfast and went right to lunch. I figured that I would take the scooter and ride over to Sanford. Siler City had a population of just over 8K, while Sanford’s population was 29K . It had almost four times the population. I figured with that, there should be more things going on.

I decided to give their Chinese restaurant, the Kings Chinese Buffet Restaurant a shot. It was very good, but I didn’t eat enough in those days to make a lunch buffet a deal for me. Still the food was good, and there was no waiting for it to show up. I did enjoy that.

After lunch I went from there to a Honda Motorcycle shop. Since I rode by the sign, on the way to lunch. I decided to take my scooter in after lunch. It was time I had my Scooter checked over. I wanted the oil changed, and the carburetor chemically cleaned by a professional. It cost me a few bucks, but I felt prevention was usually a good deal.

When I returned home, I got on the computer. First to see what was going on inside Tasha’s Dungeon. Then to check out a few things I might buy. In the end I found a five year old, one season TV drama that sounded interesting enough for me to give a try. I actually watched two episodes.

I was in the kitchen area pouring myself another glass of the iced tea I preferred, when the phone rang. I saw that it was Mason from the SJL.

“What can I do for you?” I asked.

“I thought I should call to warn you that you are now in the big time. Also to offer our assistance if you sould need it. Pro Bono of course.“ he suggested.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked.

“Detective Bell of the North Carolina State Bureau of Investigation called to asked if you worked for us. Of course I told her no. I did explain our arrangement. I also explained that you were a serial do good-er, when she told me about the city cop you saved. Instead of a medal the fucking bitch wants you in jail.” Mason admitted angrily.

“She just can’t figure out why a do good-er had a pistol at him in the middle of the night, and rushed out to shoot at a shooter,” I replied with a laugh.

“I think I did mention you are fucking nuts,” he said and laughed as well. “Bye the by, Mr. Martinez’s friend is doing a life sentence in the state pen in Reidsville Georgia. When I say life sentence, I mean Life not some version of life. It is life without parole. So if he confesses to the killing of Evelyn, it will mean nothing.”

“You need to send a team down to Reidsville and talk to our new man. Get him to confess and then give you the name of the man who paid him to make dog food of Evelyn.” I demanded.

“I don’t suppose you would be interested. I know he is going to have a deal all ready for you,” Mason replied.

“I don’t know, let me think about it overnight,” I suggested to delay him.

“You can have Bitsy, but I’ll have to get a new Lawyer for you. Maurice resigned effective tomorrow,” Mason reported.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope it wasn’t anything I did,” I suggested.

“I don’t think so. I offered to keep you two apart, but it didn’t make any difference. I have a pretty good idea how hard you are to work with,” Mason said.

“I’m sure I’m an absolute prick,” I laughed as I spoke.

“Like your last boss said, but you get results,” Mason agreed.

“That’s not always enough,” I suggested. “Is it?”

“Not always,” Mason admitted.

After Mason rang off, I went for my evening’s ride. I did the twenty miles before I turned and headed home. I had learned the lesson early in my biking. It was to always keep your eyes open and expect the automobiles you pass to do something stupid. I saw the car with it’s lights out, so I didn’t expect the woman to open the door. I had just enough time to pull around her, but the move was so violent that the bike hit a patch of gravel. I went down. The pain was real, but I had walked away from more severe pains.

The woman watched me struggle to get to my feet, then she climbed into the car, turn it around quickly, then drive away almost in a panic, I thought.. I had been at the start of my tour de neighborhood. I had also been looking for suspicious cars. Ones that might conceal a surveillance team. The blond didn’t strike me as a cop type. One just never could tell though. The econo box from Korea was also good cover, if she was a watcher.

The bike ended up with a bent wheel. I found that out when I tried to ride it home. Instead I pushed it home. Fortunately it was a front wheel. Fortunately they were easier to find and replace. It was back to the mountain bike for a couple of days at least. I removed the bike wheel and tried to assess the damage. It was pretty awful looking. I decided to toss the wheel and buy another one.

I went onto Ebay and found a wheel. It was about a fourth of what I paid for the whole bike, but I ordered it anyway. It was coming from Indiana, so I had at least a three day wait. I determined to accept the job from SJL. That would give me something else to think about. I had to give my self some first aid to cover some road rash. I hadn’t noticed the pain at first. There was too much joint pain.

I rubbed triple antibiotic cream on it. Then I taped a two inch square gauze pad over each of two different spots on my legs. I went looking for a place to elevate my leg without having to go to bed. I knew I needed to choke down some pain killers to sleep. I also had to give them an hour to kick in.

I moved a couple of storage boxes to the floor in front of my chair. It took the stretch out of the road rash and that caused the pain to eased off. Then I added a Tramadol to my usual nightly pain meds. An hour later I found a position the didn’t hurt too badly and drifted off to sleep. I awoke after a half hour. All that pain killers allowed me to find a spot that didn’t hurt too badly while laying flat on the bed. Because the pain had eased I slept until 7 AM.

At 7:30 I tried to ride the bike but the ache in my hips and the burn on my knees due to the road rash prevented me from doing anything on the bike. I guess that I was lucky, since I didn’t have any broken bones. Obviously I fell harder than I thought.

Fortunately I still had a can of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls in a tube. I baked them for my breakfast. Yes moving was painful, but unlike before it was doable. I took my plate of rolls, and my thermos of coffee onto my deck. As I waited, I vacillated between answers to Masons offer.

Yes, would help fill a couple of days. No, would mean staying home home again. I might shoot myself after a few days. I finally decided to accept. I could get a couple of days off without complete boredom.

When Mason called I explained everything, but he still wanted me to go to the Ga. Penitentiary. We agreed that Bitsy and a new lawyer would be by for me at noon.

“Tell Bitsey I won’t be bringing a bike,.” I said as I hung up the phone.

I was beginning to think about the strange woman who had caused my accident. At first I had thought she might be SBI. But the more I thought about her the less that seemed likely. At best I would have been a small time criminal of little interest to the SBI. One not likely to warrant the resources necessary for a full time surveillance.

Then when I asked myself who else had an interest in my operation, the only one left was Martin. I actually had decided to call and confront him before I left for the Georgia prison. It turned out not to be necessary.

Martin was on the phone. “Hello Martin did your girl call, or come home with her tail between her legs?” I asked in a nasty tone.”

“Damn, you are quick,” he said.

“Not really, I just figured it out. So which was it?” I asked.

“What your are really asking, is do I still have your safe house under surveillance. The answer is yes. She and her partner will be there another couple days. So are you okay?” he asked.

“Not really. I got a couple of nasty road scrapes and my injuries from the bomb blast are acting up again. You know significant pain. I expect to have it a while. Tell your team to look after the place I may be gone a couple of days. Oh yeah, they might want to look out for the SBI.”

“I also planned to call to tell you, I have a friend in the justice department. I got them off your ass. You are welcome,” he said with a smile in his voice.

“Martin, you don’t do anything that doesn’t benefit you,” I said.

“True but it does some good along the way,” he replied. “Sometimes collateral damage can be a good thing.”

“Sure thanks,” I said. “Is that all.”

“Take care of those injuries. If you need to have them checked again, I think I can get you into Walter Reid. You were an honorably discharged vet. Didn’t they call it a medical retirement or something?” he asked.

“Something, thanks but I’ll struggle with the backwoods medical services I have,” I admitted.

“So where is your bleeding heart liberal hobby taking you today?” he asked.

“Sorry that is need to know, and you don’t,” I replied.

“You do know five minutes after you hang up, I will know?” he asked with an infuriating superior tone.

“Of course, it just won’t be from me,” I admitted.

I killed the phone and waited another hour and ten minutes for Bitsy and her new partner. Her new partner was an Adriana Mitchel. She had been a modern day white liberal during the early 1980s. In 1979 she graduated law school and joined the local public defenders office. In 2013 she retired and began traveling with her husband. He was a deputy chief of police in a larger city in the Piedmont Triad area. I guessed they didn’t love each other as much as they thought,.

Their divorce was quick and amicable. They agreed to sell everything and split the proceeds of the sale. She moved to a small apartment then found that traveling alone wasn’t any fun at all, so she became a paid employee of the Southern Justice League. She had never intended to practice law for them. Maurice’s fairly sudden departure left a void that had to be filled immediately. She jumped right in.