Chapter 22: Boom

Dexter climbed out of bed and walked over to the window of his Reno casino’s hotel room. He yawned and opened the curtains enough to look out the window without exposing his naked body to the world. There was nothing to see except the rooftop of part of the hotel.

He rubbed his stomach, wishing it would settle down. He’d had a lot of coffee the night before, but it shouldn’t have been bothering him by this point in time.

“I’m getting old,” Dexter said.

His bladder demanded attention. He went over to the bathroom and relieved the pressure on his bladder while checking his reflection in the mirror. He looked at his naked body with a critical eye.

Not pleased with what he saw, he said, “I need to lose about forty pounds. I’m getting fat.”

He looked down at himself and muttered, “Another couple of pounds and I won’t be able to see my dick.”

He needed to start an exercise program. He had never liked exercising. To him it had always been a waste of time. All of that jumping, lifting things, and running around without going anywhere seemed rather pointless. Life in an office had really done a number on his fitness. He doubted that he could run a hundred yards, now.

He tried to remember the last time he’d had a day filled with balanced meals. He couldn’t remember.

There had been a time when he had a half a grapefruit, and a slice of toast for breakfast. Lately it had been toaster bagels with cream cheese, toaster waffles with maple syrup, or sugar laden cereals.

His lunches were fast food burgers, fries, and sodas. He tried to remember when he had last eaten a chicken salad sandwich on wheat bread with a glass of milk.

Dinners were either prepackaged food, nuked in the microwave, or restaurant fare.

With that kind of diet it was a miracle he wasn’t a hundred pounds overweight, but it wasn’t going to be possible to change his diet while living in a hotel. He called room service, and ordered a continental breakfast, with a large pot of coffee. He put on a robe and went over to his computer. He checked the website, and answered a few e-mails via the hotel’s free wi-fi. He put one of the more interesting emails on the website.

There was a knock on the door. He opened the door to find a guy from room service holding his breakfast on a tray.

Dexter stepped back and said, “Come in, and set it on the table.”

The man set the tray on the table before handing Dexter the bill. Dexter charged it to his room, after adding a nice tip. He didn’t notice that the bill already contained a tip, a delivery charge, sales tax, and hotel tax. He had been fairly lucky at cards the previous night ... he had won enough to cover the cost of the room for at least a week.

After pouring a cup of coffee, he returned to the computer. He was about to do a little more work, when his cell phone rang. Surprised, he picked it up and looked at the caller id. It was Eric.

Concerned, he answered, “Hello, Eric.”

“Thank God you answered,” Eric said.

“Why?” Dexter asked taken aback by the Eric’s greeting.

“There was an explosion at the office, just a few minutes ago. It’s all over the television, here,” Eric said.

“Jesus,” Dexter said feeling his stomach drop to the floor. While reaching for his pink pills, he asked, “Was anyone hurt?”

“They haven’t said,” Eric answered.

“Oh my God,” Dexter said finding that his hands were shaking so hard that it was difficult to hold onto the package of pink pills. He didn’t know what to think.

Eric said, “Channel 11 has got a traffic helicopter over the building, now. Smoke is coming out of it.”

“Sweet Jesus,” Dexter said.

His imagination was providing details that probably weren’t there: hundreds of dead bodies, wailing children, and fire spreading to neighboring structures.

“There are police and fire trucks all over the place,” Eric said.

“This is horrible,” Dexter said. “You weren’t anywhere near there, were you?”

“No,” Eric answered.

“Thank God. Don’t go anywhere near there,” Dexter said. “Just ... stay ... stay safe.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Eric said. “I’m packing up the family and getting the hell out of Dodge.”

“Good thinking,” Dexter said. “Interested in coming to Nevada?”

“I hadn’t given it a thought,” Eric said.

“I’m in Nevada. I can get you a room here in the hotel,” Dexter said.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I kinda wanna keep my distance from you, until that madman is captured,” Eric said.

“I don’t blame you a bit,” Dexter said. In fact, he would stay away from himself, if he could manage that. He said, “Jesus. I can’t believe someone blew up our office.”

“Anyway, I thought I’d let you know what happened, here,” Eric said.

“Thanks. You take your wife and kids to someplace nice like ... uh ... Rat World, down in Orlando,” Dexter said grasping for a location that the whole family would enjoy.

“That’s a good idea,” Eric said.

Dexter said, “Charge anything you need, to the company. Use the debit card that I gave you for office supplies. I’ll transfer ten thousand dollars to it. Get a nice suite and take your kids to the amusement parks.”

“Thanks,” Eric said.

“Take care of your family,” Dexter said.

“I will,” Eric said.

“You’d better get going,” Dexter said.

“I’ll call you when I get there.”

“Call anytime,” Dexter said relieved to know that Eric was going to take his family somewhere safe.

Eric disconnected. Dexter closed his phone trying to get his thoughts organized. Intellectually, he had known that there was someone out there that wanted to harm him. He had never come to grips with the idea emotionally. Now that a real attempt on his life had been made, he was totally freaked.

He jumped nearly a foot in the air when his cell phone rang again. He checked the caller id. It was the detective agency. He hoped that it was better news than what Eric had delivered.

He answered, “Hello, this is Dexter.”

“This is Jeff Mertzer from the detective agency.”

“I just got a call that my office blew up,” Dexter said.

“I called to tell you that, and to let you know that we’ve got video of a man going into your office, last night. We’re going to forward it to the police,” Jeff said.

“Talk to Detective ... oh ... what’s his name ... uh ... Detective Klingon? ... Kingston? ... Kinsey? ... something like that,” Dexter said finding that his memory wasn’t working all that well. “I’ve got his card, somewhere.”

“Detective Kingsley?” Jeff asked.

“That’s the guy,” Dexter said.

“I’ll get in touch with him right away,” Jeff said. “Are you somewhere safe?”

“I’m in Nevada,” Dexter answered.

“That should be safe enough. Just avoid pissing off the mob,” Jeff said.

“The mob?” Dexter asked, looking anxiously around the room.

He couldn’t understand why the mob might be involved, unless some of the petty criminals were suing their bosses.

“That was a joke,” Jeff said.

“Sorry,” Dexter said. “I’m not used to having my business blown up.”

“Not many people are,” Jeff said wryly.

“It’s not an everyday thing,” Dexter said.

“I’ll get the video over to Detective Kingsley. I’m sure he’ll want to check it out. I’ll call you if I learn anything new.”

“Thanks,” Dexter said.

As soon as that call was disconnected, his cell phone rang again. He looked at the caller id. It was the police. He answered, “Hello. This is Dexter.”

“This is Detective Kingsley. Your office was destroyed by a bomb about fifteen minutes ago.”