Chapter 26

I hoped the Marshals were phony, but it would leave me with a lot of problems if they weren’t. If they were real, I had a lot of problems back in Siler City. I could call Tonya and have her check, but I didn’t really want to know that badly. We would know when I returned, which was soon enough.

“So who did you piss off this time?” Bitsy asked.

“What do you mean, this time?” I asked in return.

“One of those so called marshals said you had bad luck with your house. Someone fire bombed it last year,” She answered.

“That is true, but he is still inside. I think.”

At the prison just after lunch, I allowed Adriana to take the lead. She began with, “Miguel we know now that you are an honest man.” I knowingly choked. Adriana stared at me hard. Then she continued. “So now we need the name of the person who hired you. Prove to the Sarge that he is wrong about you.”

“The Sarge is not wrong about me. I tell the truth when it suits me. Now it doesn’t suit me,” Miguel said.

“So what is it going to take to suit you,” I asked.

“The only thing I have access to is my commissary account. I really don’t need more money in there. But my wife and kids need money.” he said. They need money to live, “ he demanded. “You have to figure a way to get it to her so that it won’t cause her a problem with her government check.”

“I can’t do that. It’s welfare fraud and I could go to jail. I think I’ll pass on that. Maybe I could arrange a one time payment to her of say 5K. We could call it the TV rights to your story. Something like that.” I suggested.

“No way the name is worth more than five grand,” he said all sure of himself.

“Maybe or maybe not. What will his name be worth, if the local police get him to talk first. They don’t like being made to look foolish. Now that they have your lawn mower blade, they are going to look around and see who starts acting guilty. There is a newspaper story going around about you negotiating for the name. I imagine they will be talking to him about getting ahead of the charges. You do know how persuasive the cops can be, don’t you. You have to decide now, when I leave here in one minute the deal is off the table and we take our chances with the local cops and her husband.”

“Maybe you can make a deal with him, but some how I doubt he will be willing to make any more payments to you,” Adriana suggested.

While Adriana took his statement, I went outside to make a phone call. “Tonya this is Sarge. Have you heard anything about a bomb going off in my place?” I asked her.

“The cops who come in for breakfast said it was a paint can or something left in your parking lot. He didn’t know about damages. They have no idea who did it or why they would do it. They even asked me, if I had heard any gossip. Finally they said it might be a friend of the kid they arrested for shooting that cop.”

“Okay sweetie, I owe you dinner when I get home,” I promised.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” she declared.

After Addie finished with Miguel’s statement, she came out and said, “I have to pass the good news to Mason.”

“Not a good idea,” I said. “Right now the three of us are the only ones who know about the information contained in Miguel’s statement. We really should keep it that way until we can deliver it in person to him.”

“I don’t agree, and I took the statement,” she said.

“I know you think the world is fair, and people in the right have nothing to fear, but that is not always the case. Just pretend you are a movie star and do a little acting. You need to pretend that anyone who sees us is a potential bad man. It will only be a few hours until you can deliver the information in person. That is unless you can encrypt the message so that no one can hack the system and walk away with the information. Remember the rest of a young man’s life depends on it.” I explained.

“What happened to all that faith you have in local cops?” she asked.

“I’m a very good actor,” I said.

“Okay, since we are going straight back, I’ll do it your way,” she said.

Since we knew that we were leaving, we had packed the car before we drove to the prison. That being the case, we left directly from the prison for my home. I was a bundle of nerves all the way to my house. When it appeared in the windshield. Tasha’s place came first and it looked perfect. Then the lock shop house appeared and it didn’t look perfect at all. The blast definitely originated on the outside of the house. The blast was aimed at the camper and pretty much destroyed it ... It also got everything inside the camper as well.

.

Since it was almost dark, I didn’t bother too much with the camper except to note my scooter was a pile of twisted metal, and melted plastic. There were blast marks on the outside of the house. Cracked stucco and peeling paint. The windows somehow withstood the blast. The blast didn’t reach the roof as best I could tell from the ground, and in the fading light. I opened the front door and except for things haven fallen off the wall, it looked remarkably unscathed.

“Sarge, I am so sorry. Who could have done this,” Bitsy asked.

“I have no idea, but the list of possibles will be long,” I suggested.

“Maybe you were right. This could be a warning from our victim’s husband,” Addy said.

“Who knows,” I suggested.

“I vote for the kid you ran off from in front of your house the other day?” Bitsy said.

“He is in jail,” I said.

“Are you sure,” She continued.

“He should be,” I suggested.

Addie called and got his incarceration verified. “Then a friend,” Bitsy said.

“Bitsy, I’m sure the local cops can figure it out,” I replied.

“And if they just don’t give a damn?” she asked.

“Why would they feel that way about a heroic good citizen like me?” I asked.

“Oh, the same reason the SBI is investigating your ass,” Addie suggested.

“They think I had something to do with the officer getting shot. That is bullshit.” I replied.

“But it’s how us cops think. There were too many coincidences. I know they really were, but the cops don’t believe in them. Then the SBI comes in spreading blood in the water and we have a feeding frenzy,” Bitsy agreed.

“Well, let them try to connect me to those assholes,” I said.

“Sarge they may not even care who tossed the bomb,” Addie replied.

“We are all getting a little paranoid. You girls go back to the office, and I’ll figure this out,” I demanded.

“Bull shit,” Addie said.

“What she said,” Bitsy agreed.

“At least you go home Bitsy, you have a kid and an ex-husband who need caring after,” I said.

“I can’t get him till tomorrow after day care, so you are stuck with me at least till noon tomorrow. So what do you have on CCTV?” she demanded. Addie nodded her head in agreement.

“First things first, let’s move the car to the parking lot beside Tasha’s Spa,” I demanded. My clothes, stored in the house were fine. They just smelled of gunpowder or whatever the explosive was. I got enough clothes for the next day then followed the girls up the hill on foot.

After we were inside I suggested, “I think we all need to stay upstairs. All being in the same room seems like a good idea. We at least can protect ourselves.”

“I concur,” Addie said.

“Could you try speaking English around me?” I begged.

“That is English. It just isn’t redneck English. So I agree,” she corrected herself with a grin.

Once inside I hooked my laptop to the internet site which hosted my CCTV footage. I focused on the front view camera which shared its view between the Lock Shop and Tasha’s Spa. I had to run the film back a couple of seconds at a time, since the bomber might have just tossed it and run like hell.

We found our angry, but not mad, bomber shortly after midnight the night before. We had a good view of his auto, Which seemed a little crazy since he should know I had a view of the street. We were even able to pull a plate from the car. He wore a baseball cap, and a black hoodie, those plus a bandanna, like the ones used by west coast gangs, kept his face covered. All of which meant that we didn’t have a face to work with.

“Fuck,” I said “That asshole tossed a pipe bomb with a flame lit fuse, how fucking low tech is that.?”

“Maybe the cops will recognize him. Copy it for the file and we can get it to them,” Bitsy said. “They may have a known suspect.”

“We are not going to get that lucky,” I promised. “You ladies ready for bed?” The only reasonable course of action was to take the parents’ double bed option. “I am” Addie suggested. “Get your clothes from the Lock Shop and I’ll wash them while we sleep.”

“Thanks, but I’ll do it after you leave first thing in the morning,” I demanded.

“We are going to the police station with you,” Bitsy demanded.

“So Domme,” I whispered in her ear.

“And you love it,” she said.

I still had to clean up and doctor my road rash. I did it downstairs then sat in my gym shorts and tee while I applied the antibiotic cream from the safe house’s first aid kit to my rash.

After a liberal dose of Aspirin and Tylenol I headed off to bed to give it a chance to work. The first thing I did after climbing the stairs was to trip the switch and lift the stairs behind me. The staircase lift was Ed’s idea. I liked it because the downstairs men wouldn’t have easy access to the women upstairs. It would be really two apartments with that stair lift.

Once I was up and the stairs lifted, I found that the ladies had each occupied the lower bed, of each of the two bunk beds units available. The only reasonable course of action was to take the parent’s double bed option. I must have been exhausted, because I fell asleep instantly, heavy hip pain and all.

We went to Tonya’s for breakfast the next morning. I introduced them both to her. Tonya’s smile was forced, but she did try to be nice. After their big breakfast special, we each went our separate ways. The two women dropped me at Tasha’s Spa, then carried the CCTV file to the police headquarters. I had no doubt that Addie showed her ass there.

I went home to put my clothes into the washer. I also rummaged through the mess the blast made of the Lock Shop. I didn’t own a lot of breakable things, since almost everything I owned was cheap plastic shit. That did have it’s advantages, when someone threw a bomb at it, either fire or the kaboom type.

Once I had the interior straightened and my clothes churning, I took a deep breath and then took a look at the at the camper sitting in my drive. I managed to get a look at what was left of my scooter. I was damn lucky that the gas tank hadn’t blown and made the explosion even worse. The plastic had melted and the small amount of steel frame was twisted so badly that if I hadn’t known what it was, I wouldn’t have known what it was.

After that I walked around with my cell phone taking pictures of the damage to the camper, and to my lock shop. Then I went back inside to figure my losses for the insurance company’s claim. I couldn’t believe the damages were over six grand. The claim would be more like ten grand, simply because everybody who worked on the restoration would fudge their bills. It was just the nature of the beast.

I called the insurance agent before I returned the police officer’s call. The agent said the claims adjuster and investigator would be bye in a couple of days. I expected to get screwed, but how badly I didn’t know. It wouldn’t be too bad because the Lock Shop was not structurally damaged. The stucco was cracked and a lot of the plaster was laying in the driveway. Since I didn’t have a vehicle and it was still painful to ride the bike, I expected to be available most any time.

“Hello this is Ray Selfridge someone put a bomb under my camper. I’m returning officer Ashe’s call,” I informed the person who answered the phone. “I was out of town when it happened.”

“Is there a number where you can be reached. I know that there is information we need and some things we want to pass along to you.” the woman said.

“You guys have my number, but I’ll give it to you again,” I said just before I gave her my cell phone number. “I don’t have a land line.”

A half hour later the Detective who investigated the officer involved shooting called me. “Mr Selfridge may I call you Sarge?” he asked.

“Anything you like, so what is going on? You seem to have a crime wave,” I suggested.

“Seems like you brought it to town,” he said.

“That is not likely,” I suggested. “It all started with your cop.”

“Actually it all started with a fire at your home,” the detective said.

“I thought the man who tried to burn me out was in jail. He isn’t out is he?” I asked.

“No the county farm is a very good alibi, so he isn’t a suspect. Did you ever have any dealings with the man who shot the officer in front of your house?” he asked.

“To the best of my knowledge the first time I saw him, he was shooting your officer. Did the bombing have something to do with him?” I asked.

“We can’t find any connection, but the timing would be quite a coincidence.” he said.

“That is true,” I replied, “but sometimes there really are coincidences.”

“Your attorney came by a couple of hours ago. She said you got injured the night before this happened?” he asked.

“She actually is an attorney with the Southern Justice League. She is representing me at the moment. The injury is just a few scrapes, but it makes riding my bike difficult,” I explained. What I didn’t say was especially difficult since I was down to just the mountain bike. I missed my road bike, but he didn’t need to know that.