Chapter 352

It was 8AM when I came out of my stupor. I just knew that it was going to be one busy ass day for me. My first call was to Blevins. "Hey you fucked up old man, you want to do me a favor. Let me buy you breakfast?" I said into his message machine. "If not today, then tomorrow."

He picked up the phone at that point. "Helen's at 9." He said it, then he was gone.

Strange, I thought. I washed my beat up body and scraps of hair. Once I had removed any dirt that might have attached itself to me, I examined the skin for an breaks. The sensors would tell me if there were any openings to the air. I just looked to make sure there were no scraps that might become a problem.

There were none. I had something in a tube that was like super, super glue just in case of emergencies. Since I had no scrapes, I dressed for the day. Over my panties and thick chemise, I wore the slightly loose fitting jeans and a chocolate brown tight tee shirt. When I left the apartment, I slipped on the shoulder rig with the concealed hammer .38. Then a bright red sweatshirt at least three sizes too big over everything. It wasn't as easy to get to the pistol as an open coat would have been, but it was more practical than a heavy coat on the bicycle.

Even with all that activity I still had a few minutes so I plugged in the MP3 player for a few tunes and a little extra jolt. As usual I selected motorcycle gang music before I hit the road on my bicycle. Nothing like the hard pounding sound of heavy metal music to get me in the mood to ride my pedal bike. I laughed at the thought.

When I finally got to Helen's, I was still five minutes early. I picked up a bag with a bacon and egg biscuit and homemade hash browns. I chose a table near the rear of the dining room. It was empty when I sat down, but it didn't stay empty long. Within five minutes I had a young paramedic come join me. I should have asked him to leave, but I didn't bother. I figured that would look like I had something to hide when I spoke with Blevins.

When Blevins finally arrived, I stood up walked to him then kissed him passionately. I was surprised to feel his erection. Blevins was in his mid to late fifties. I would have expected it to take more than a simple tongue in his throat to achieve that state of arousal.

"Hello honey, how are you this morning?" I asked. To his credit Blevins knew his part in the farce.

"I am good, I'm sorry I had to leave last night. I promised this chicken farmer, I would check out his chicken house for thieves," It was at that point the Paramedic finished his breakfast and left.

"So you where a chicken inspector last night," I said after the kid had gone.

"No but that seemed a boring enough dialogue to run the kid off. So what's up?" Blevins asked.

"Jerome White, is on the radar. What do you know about him." I asked.

"I know he is a nasty piece of work. At the moment all he is known for around the station is being a bully. He moved into the project after he got out of prison. He was inside for a couple of years on an armed robbery beef. When he got out he just waltzed to the top of the project's waiting list. Been there over a year and spent most of it terrorizing the old ladies."

"So why hasn't some gang banger capped his ass?" I asked.

"I have no idea. You know I don't work gangs. Best I can figure he is out of the drug scene," Blevins said.

"So where does he make his money?" I asked.

"Rumor is he and a couple of the kids, whose parents live in the project, muscle little old ladies for their social security checks." Blevins said.

"That's despicable," I replied.

"Yeah but cops can't prove anything," Blevins said. "Now before you go getting your ass involved out there listen to me. You don't need the cops looking at you right now for any reason."

"Oh why is that?" I asked.

"Take my word for it, just don't get in the middle of anything right now," Blevins said as he opened his brown bag. From it he took something that looked like an Egg McMuffin.

"What the fuck is that?" I asked.

"It's what I call an Egg McHelen. It's a piece of country ham and a scrambled egg with cheese on an english muffin. It cost more than a McDonald's piece of crap, but man this thing is so good you can just hear your arteries harden," he admitted.

"Helen's menu in this place just keeps growing," I suggested.

"If you got your sorry ass out of bed in time to be here at 6AM, you would see why. Sometimes we need a cop to direct traffic around her drive in window. I would bet that there are more brown bags in the downtown trash pickup, than anything else," Blevins informed me.

"Damn," I remarked. "Well thanks Blevins, I'm off to walk at the mall."

The 'don't let the cops look at you' remark echoed in my brain as I rode to the mall on my bike. I expect that someone had finally found the 'Peace' of shit's car. I had left the keys in it, when I parked it behind the mission. I had hoped that someone would just drive it away for me. They must have done that and finally got caught with it. So they were looking for Bristol. Well good luck with that, was my only thought.

I had a feeling he was going to show up in another jurisdiction. When he did he would need to be identified. So if he had already shown up, he might have done so before he was reported missing. In which case some podunk Sheriff's office would have done a quick on line search for missing persons along the river and found nothing. The body with no foul play indications glaring at them, might easily have gone onto the back burner. If he showed up after the car was found, then they might match him to the missing persons report.