Chapter 3

"Max, this is Jen, how are you?" The metallic sounding voice came from the phone.

"I'm fine, Jen, I spoke to you yesterday. Not much happens in a day."

"Max, with you, God only knows what can happen in a day."

"No matter what you say, you are not calling to check on my health. Even if you were, there is nothing new to report. You already knew that I am eating real food again. If you were wondering about my sex life, it has been very empty since my little adventure with extreme deep throat."

"I called because I have a job offer for you," Jen finally admitted.

"What kind of job?" I asked.

"It's a secret, at least for now. I need you to meet me, the client, and his son for lunch."

"As long as it's not the Banker's Club," I suggested.

"What's wrong with the Banker's Club?"

"Oh are you a member now?"

"No, I haven't been invited, but if they ever invite me, I will step all over you to accept." There was laughter in her voice.

"You social climbing bitch," I said, with a laugh.

"Okay, not the Banker's how about the Carolina Grill."

"You have to be kidding. That place has nothing in common with a real grill."

"They have grilled food," Jen said, trying to defend her choice.

"Stir fried vegetable on the grill, does not a grill make," I said, laughing at her again.

"Too fucking bad," she said, pretending to be angry. "I have already made the date with the clients so you better be there at 1 PM today."

"Jen, that's two hours from now. What would you do if I had an appointment?"

"I would be shocked. You never make appointments. You are one of those pull it out of your ass types."

"And that's a bad thing?" I asked.

"It is for those of us who have to plan our breakfast menu a week in advance."

"So what's it about?"

"No way I'm going to give you a heads up on this one. This time you have to hear it from the horse's mouth."

"Well I hope the horse brushed its teeth." I laughed again. "Okay, Jen, but you or your client is paying."

"Of course," she said.

I stopped on the way to lunch to make a delivery. The guy worked in a bank, so I did it as quietly as possible. He accepted it and even thanked me. Some people have class and some threaten violence on me. People can really react badly to news from a lawyer. Mostly it's the divorce cases that really set people on fire.

Maybe it was because of the banker's reaction, or the fact that I always enjoy seeing Jen, but it was a fight not to lick her face. It's hard, but I always resist. Well, almost always, there was the threesome with she and her husband, but that was just to prove I could. Sometimes I think someone is giving me male hormones without me knowing.

The Carolina Grill was one of those knockoffs of a real grill. It had the chrome exterior that made it look like a 1950s giant thermos bottle. The parking lot wasn't filled with real cars. Instead it was filled with modern plastic, gas saving junk. I knew right then, that I was going to find that GTO I wanted. When I found it, I was going to buy it, no matter what Jen and her crowd said.

I saw Jen and two men sitting in a booth. The booth was meant for six, but there was only the three of them occupying it. I made my way down the single aisle between the booths and the counter. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long?" I said, to them all, but I was looking at Jen.

"Not at all. Max, this is Martin Southerland and his son, Ted."

"Ms Stone, I have heard a great deal about you," The older man said.

"Well, Mr. Southerland, please believe anything that flatters me and ignore the other."

"Call me Marty," he said. "And it was all flattering."

"Thank you Marty. Jen said you wanted to hire me, but she was very mysterious about what you needed done."

"You cut right to it don't you, Ms Stone?" Ted Southerland suggested.

"You appear to be men who value you own time, so I'm sure you don't mind that I value mine." I really didn't value it all that much, but I was sure they valued theirs. I might as well get the bad news over with before I wasted their money on my lunch.

"Do you know who my dad is?" Ted asked.

"No, but I will when you tell me, and I'm sure you are going to."

Marty Southerland chuckled, then said, "I like her." The remark was aimed at Jen.

"I'm glad, Marty, so who are you?"

"Just a retired farmer. I was a farmer from the age of ten, right up two years ago."

"You look to be in really good condition, why did you give it up?" I knew it might be rude if he was sick, but I was curious.

"Oh, tobacco farming isn't politically correct, and Ted is going to run for the senate."

"Ah," was all I said. Politically correct is bullshit in my opinion. So what are you planning that I can help with?" It was obvious he had something in mind.

"He wants to ride a bicycle from Wilmington on the east coast to some nice beach in California." Ted said, a little snippy, I thought.

"So where do I fit in?" I asked.

"I didn't think you would fit in, when my son and Jennifer demanded that I at least meet with you. Now I think maybe you would fit in after all."

"Fit in where?" I asked.

"Driving along behind dad to pick up the pieces when he kills himself," Ted said, almost angrily.

"It would make Ted happy for some reason to get my body home quickly," Marty said playfully. "Hell, it might be worth a few thousand votes."

"No offense, Marty, but that is a long ride and will take a long time. I honestly can't spare that much time."

"Max, they aren't telling you everything. The bicycles are motorized and Marty plans to do at least a hundred miles a day. He also plans to quit if it gets too difficult."

"That's still a minimum of thirty days. I just can't spare that kind of time."

"Yes, you can Max," Jen said.

"At least she recognizes that it is a stupid idea," Ted said. He really should not have done that.

"Not at all, I think it is a great idea and something I would like to do before I die. It's just that now is a bad time. Also riding along behind in a van is my idea of a shit job."

'Then, by God, I'll build you a bike and you can ride along as part of the adventure."

"That would defeat the purpose, Dad." Ted was beginning to piss me off.

"Oh hell, Ted, I could call the paramedics on my cell phone or your dad can call them on his, if I'm the one who goes down. As for breakdowns, I have a feeling your dad has a buck or two. If that is that case, we can call someone to come out and drive us to the auto rental place and just drive home."

"Actually, Max, I have a list of bike builders all along the way. If it is something that isn't too urgent, they can help me repair the bike and we will just keep on going."

"See Max, you are getting caught up in this," Jen said.

"If I go, there are rules?" I demanded.

"Like what?" Marty asked.

"You call your son every night. If some redneck does an easy rider on our asses I want someone to come looking for us. That's just the first one off the top of my head; there will be others, I assure you."

"Done," Marty said. "What else?"

"Get one of those fancy phones that does everything, and be sure it does GPS. I don't want to take a wrong turn and wind up in Deliveranceville."

"Oh, do you play the banjo?" Marty asked, with a wicked smile.

"No, and I don't squeal like a pig either."

"Too bad," Marty said, with a wicked smile.

"Okay you two, we should talk about money," Jen said.

"Give her whatever she wants," Marty said.

"Two K a week and Pappa Bear picks up all the expenses."

"No way," Marty said. "That ain't near enough. At least 12k for the trip. If it's one day or a month, then 3k a week if it goes over a month.

"Before we get too wrapped up in this, when do you want to leave?"

"Weather is optimal in a month. Will that give you time to make some arrangements for your business."

"I have an idea. I'll make some calls and we can set a firm date," I suggested.

During the rest of lunch, Marty described his bike to me. He promised to build me one just like it. It sounded like a good solid plan to me, so I felt even less concerned about the trip. Marty and Ted left first. I could sense Jen wanted to talk about something.

"So what's the real story on those two?"

"Marty was my first real client. That was almost twenty years ago."

"So back then he was a tobacco farmer?"

"Yeah the biggest farmer in at least five counties. Max, that was back when tobacco made millionaires."

"And Marty was one of them?"

"And a hell of a man, as well. If you ever tell this, I will kill you," she said.

"You were lovers?" I asked laughing.

"Not really, Marty and his wife were swingers. Not something that was common around here. He introduced me and Bob to it."

"I guess your first orgy is like your first love," I laughed.

"It wasn't an orgy. At least not exactly, we kind of swapped for a while, then it was a group thing."

"I see how long has Helen been gone?" I asked, watching Jennifer's face for a reaction.

"Three years, how did you know?"

"This is the kind of trip a man looking for an ending takes. That's usually when they are alone."

"You really are a smart bitch, aren't you?"

"Happens when see too much, too soon," I replied.

"I want you to go, to make damn sure he comes back."

"Back or back to you?" I asked

"We aren't lovers," she said.

"No, but you love him," I replied.

"Yes, I won't deny it."

"Well, help me get this thing set up and I'll bring him back."

"What can I do?"

"Something will come to me," I said, with a wicked smile.

"I thought that was a one time thing?" she said smiling.

"It was a one time thing with Bob." I agreed.

"You know I'm not bi," she said, seriously.

"Do I really, it's not exactly what I remember." The booth's table was narrow to squeeze the maximum number of booths into the minimum amount of space available. It was close enough so that I could reach under the table and put my hand on her leg.

"Please, don't do that."

"You don't like it?" I asked, confused.

"Don't do it, because I do like it," she said, seriously.

"Fair enough, just so you know, Jen, anytime, anyplace," I said.

"I already knew," she said, with a sweet little smile.

My first chore, when I got back to the office, was to call Blevins on his cell. "What trouble are you into now, Max?" he asked, as a greeting.

"Do I have to be in trouble to call a friend?"

"No, but you always seem to be. So what's up?"

"Jen roped me into a job just now. It's going to take me away from the office for anywhere from a week to two months. I was wondering if you still had contacts out at the community college."

"You know, Max, we look the other way on some of the shit you pull, because so far mostly it's the bad guys who get hurt. We would frown on a college kid getting killed because of something you did."

"You know Sarah wasn't involved, she was just collateral damage." I hated how cold that sounded.

"Yeah, that's why you aren't completely iced down there." Down there was the Cop Out Club.

"Yeah, I realize that I'm not the belle of the ball," I replied.

"Hell, Max, you never were. Those nurses always hated you cause you have more balls than they do. That young intern, they all wanted to fuck him, they were just afraid of what he might say. Everyone but you knew he liked to brag. He was kind of the Warren Beatty of Aster. Only he was the one who built his own reputation. Then when Sarah got killed, they thought that they had legitimate reason to jump your case. The cops put them straight. They might not like you, but I expect they will be nice regardless. Now if you get some kid killed, they mostly likely will not be cutting you any more slack. You will be Typhoid Mary."

"Blevins, the office is not involved in anything. I will make sure whoever I hire can't be mistaken for me. How is that?"

"Then I guess you have done all you can to keep him or her out of the line of fire. So what is this job that is going to take you so long that you need to hire a replacement?"

"I'm going to babysit Marty Southland on a motor bike trip cross country."

"Holy shit, can you get him to take me as well?"

"I don't think so. You might have a better ass, but I got better boobs. Besides he doesn't want it to look like he needs a bodyguard."

"Let me tell you something, little girl, before Marty got married a hundred years ago, he would kick anybody's ass in this town then drive to Tryon to find more. Helen calmed his ass down right away. First time he came home drunk, she walked out of the house and didn't come back till the next day. When she came home, she was drunk and obviously been out partying. Clothes a mess and the like. 'I'm gonna divorce you?" Marty said to her. 'Which half of the farm you gonna give me?' she asked. He looks at her and says, 'Then I'll just kill you.' Old Helen pulled out a box opener. You know one of those they used on the farm to cut cloth wrappers back then. It was a heavy bladed sumbitch, not this razor blade shit they use now. Anyhow she sliced his arm real good. 'If you gonna kill somebody, you stupid ass, just do it, don't warn them first.' Marty went to the hospital and told the cop who broke me in the story. Then he said, 'I cut my arm working on the farm. If you say any different, I'll call you the biggest liar in this state.'"

"That's quite a story, Blevins, one that should be told over a cold beer."

"My old partner swore it was true. He said if we ever get a call there, you handle Marty, I'm keeping my eye on Helen."

I laughed. "They always said we are the most dangerous sex. So you gonna tell me who to call out there."

"Let me make a call for you. If there is anyone who fits your needs, I'll have someone call you."

"If I don't hear soon, I'll have to start looking at an off-duty fireman. I hate to do that."

"I know they will steal your business right out from under you. Happens all the time with the smoke sniffers."

"So they say," I agreed. I knew a college kid, with an eye on being a cop, had no desire to serve court papers or civil summons. It was way beneath a cop to do such bullshit work. For a summer job it might interest someone though.

"Ms Stone, my name is Lucas Simpson. They told me at school that you were looking for an apprentice?" It was a question, not a statement. The kid standing in front of my desk was maybe twenty. I had a feeling he was probably 19. I was already sorry I had talked Blevins into sending me students. If this kid got hurt, I would be really upset. Blevins had also warned me that the cops would frown on another innocent body at my door.

"So do you have time to work these deliveries into your schedule?" I asked, still wishing I hadn't put out the call.

"Sure, piece of cake. The instructor told me no matter what, I was not to play cop out there. Just hand them the paper and get them to sign if possible."

"Sounds like she knows the drill," I suggested.

"Mrs. Edwards said she had talked to you and promised you that I would not get myself killed while you were gone."

I talked to the kid for an hour trying to find some reason not to hire him. Since I couldn't find one, I said, "Okay, Lucas I will give you a try before I leave. Once I am gone, call Ed or my friend, Jen, if you need advice. If there is a problem, turn the papers back in unserved rather than take a chance on getting hurt. You got that?"

"Yes Ma'am, I understand."

After a couple of days with the kid riding along, I knew he would do just fine. I also knew that he was doing it for the money. He had no desire to make a career of it. He seemed to be a sweet kid, who knows, I thought. He just might get a real bonus when I get back. I giggle inwardly at the thought. Man could I do a lot for labor relations with that attitude.

It was two weeks after the lunch meeting when I next met Marty and Ted Southland again. I drove out to the shop Southland used to build his bike and mine. When I drove up, I realized that the bikes were on display for me. They were standard high quality steel bikes. Not the kind the spandex crowd would ride. The bikes Marty used as blanks were real bikes built to last a generation. He had bought them from maybe the last bike maker doing his manufacturing in the United States. Every thing about the bikes screamed big and clunky.

That is were the made in the USA ended. The motors were Honda 4 cylinder and mounted on the side of a bike like a tumor. Marty had added his own braces to the unit, so that it was even more secure than the support given by the drive kit offered... "Damn, Marty that is a sweet looking ride," I said. I said because I knew he was waiting for a compliment. I also did it because I just knew that it would piss Teddy boy off.

"Climb on the blue one and give it a try," he insisted.

"It has been a while, so don't expect too much."

"Then wear this," he said, tossing a lightweight motorcycle helmet at me. I put it on with a smile.

That damn bike was the most fun I had since I don't remember when. It was like riding in a sports car, only ten times better. I was a dangerous rider and it was wonderfully freeing. "Shit, Marty," I said, when I swung my leg over the bike frame to dismount. "That motherfucker is a blast."