Welcome to book fifteen in the Operation Quickline series. Christmas may be Lisa Wycherly’s favorite time of the year, but then Sid’s shocking encounter with an old friend gets them embroiled in one messy case. With Lisa’s nephew spiraling out of control, it’s looking like a not-so-merry holiday. You can read the latest chapter here, and follow the whole series here.
Sid’s Voice
That Wednesday did not start well, nor did it get any better. Lisa was still annoyed with Dale and that she hadn’t gotten to finish her prime rib. I couldn’t blame her for either issue. Dale was a pain in the ass, and she loves prime rib and seldom gets it. At least, she wasn’t annoyed with me.
Darby was sullen and bordering on snotty during our run, then was almost late to school thanks to taking his time getting dressed. I called Sy from the office soon after that and asked about talking to Alex Crispin.
“If the crux of Darby’s argument is that his parents aren’t giving the guy a fair shake, then maybe we should check him out,” I said.
“I have checked him out,” Sy growled.
“Maybe we can find out what he’s telling Darby.”
Sy snorted. “I have already tried. Furthermore, yesterday, I learned something that Roxanna was, unfortunately, unaware of on Monday, which has led me to believe that Mae is utterly correct in her instincts to avoid the fellow.”
“What?”
“A young woman has come forward accusing Alex Crispin of sexually abusing her while she was a minor and a client of his. A civil case has been filed, and she is looking for other clients who experienced the same thing. Which also means that Mr. Crispin is facing the loss of his business, whether he is guilty or not.”
“And that means he’s getting desperate.” I rubbed my forehead.
“Indeed. It does not mean he would abuse Darby similarly. But Crispin needs the boy and sooner rather than later. The problem we now have is that if we present this information to Darby, it will appear as an attempt to unfairly wrest him away from Crispin and whatever inducements the foul weasel is offering him.”
“Shit. Now, what do we do?” I glared out the office window.
“I have no idea beyond seeking aid from the Divine, but that department belongs to neither of us.”
I sighed. “I’m afraid not. Well, thanks, Sy. Have you told Mae about Crispin’s troubles yet?”
“Not yet, but I will shortly.”
As we hung up, the phone rang again. It was Tom. He had talked to Wallace, and while I wasn’t thrilled with what he proposed, I decided to go along with it.
I checked my pocket watch, smiling at the soft melody as it tinkled out. Lisa had given the watch to me for my birthday that first year she was with me. That night was probably when I first started falling in love with her.
I shut the watch and went to find Lisa. She was sitting in the library in the bay window’s seat with her feet up. It was one of her favorite places to read, with the right kind of cushions for her back and a nice view of the front yard’s rose garden. There was a little table next to the window, and Lisa had two dishes on it, one with several apples, the other with a core. Motley and Bowser hovered nearby in the vain hope of snagging a core or two. Lisa’s colored file cards, highlighters, pencil case, and a notebook were scattered to her side in front of the window, and she munched on an apple as she read.
I just watched for a minute, enjoying looking at her, but then she looked up and smiled at me.
“Phones are busy today,” she said. “Any acceptances?”
I winced. “No, just bad news.” I told her about the planned lunch with Wallace, Tom, and Loser, then the call with Sy.
She shifted. “We can’t not tell Darby. What if he falls for the guy and it’s a disaster? He’ll be upset that we didn’t warn him and justifiably so.”
“Let me think about it, okay?” I sighed. “I’d better get going.”
“I’ll be here.”
I kissed her goodbye.
I met the guys at a coffee shop near Tom’s school. He had an extended lunch break that day, but still couldn’t stay too long. He was already at the table with Loser, and Wallace hurried in.
“Guys,” Wallace said as he sat down. “We’ve got to do something about these Feds. One of them followed us as I took the kids to school yesterday. Another’s been hanging around my wife’s office.”
“Now, we’ve got to stop them,” I grumbled. “What makes you think we’re going to help you after you set us up?”
“Fuck.” Wallace almost broke down.
“It was you,” Loser said.
“They leaned on me.” Wallace looked at Loser. “They came in with their badges and told me that you were the bad guy, that I could help them. So, I told them what you guys were planning. I didn’t know they’d have another shooter there. I didn’t know they’d start shooting. Then I go and draw on them. God, what was I thinking?” Wallace blinked. “Then they served that warrant on me, and now my kids. And my wife.”
Tom sighed. “Wallace, you’d better scram.”
“What?”
“We have no good reason to trust you.” Tom glared at him. “So, get the fuck out of here and let us figure it out.”
Wallace took off. Loser sat back in his seat and shook his head.
“I gotta hand it to you, Sid. You were right about him.”
I shifted in my seat as the waitress came over to take our orders.
When she was done, Loser leaned forward. “Alright, I’ve got a way to get Cobb and Whitemore to a rendezvous, and I may have some help for us. But Cobb’s not going to show up for me. I need one of you two guys to set it up, then be there so that we can draw them out.”
“Why do I feel like we’re being set up for target practice?” I asked.
“You’re not,” Loser said. “You’ll be covered.”
Tom snorted. “Loser, you’re about as trustworthy as Wallace.”
“Fine. Let these bastards keep harassing you.” Loser shrugged. “They’re only going to keep it up.”
“Why?” asked Tom.
The waitress brought our food, and we waited until she was gone.
Loser dug into his burger and fries. “They might be thinking that you’ve got something they need.”
“You didn’t.” I was ready to pound the living daylights out of him.
“I didn’t tell them anything. But I do have something they need, and it’s possible that since I’ve suddenly renewed our acquaintance, they think you guys have it. And they’re not going to give up until they get what they want.”
Tom frowned. “Okay. That would explain the search warrants on Wallace and Bob. But why haven’t Sid or I been served?”
“Can’t say.” Loser shrugged, shoving fries in his mouth. “Maybe they weren’t able to secure warrants on you guys. Or maybe they couldn’t get the drugs planted. I mean, Tom, I know you’ve got some good security on your place. What about you, Sid?”
“It’s pretty tight.”
Loser held out his hands. “There you have it.” He smiled and took another big bite of his hamburger, then talked as he chewed. “So, basically, one of you gives Whitemore a call. Tell him you’ve found something that I left behind. Set it up for some park or someplace outside, but not too crowded. They’re not going to show up if there are too many people around.”
“But who’s going to arrest Whitemore?” I asked.
“Someone’s coming to help with that. We’ll see to getting him cuffed and taken care of.”
“I’ll set it up,” Tom grumbled.
Loser nodded. “Great. You carry any heat, Tom?” He looked over at me and chuckled. “I know you’re carrying, Sid.”
I shifted my shoulder holster. “Not because I want to.”
“Angelique taught me how to shoot,” Tom said softly.
“Why don’t both you guys go?” Loser used his last few fries to wipe up the burger juice on his plate. “We’ll set it for tomorrow night, say, around nine.”
“Fine,” said Tom.
“Alright.” I sighed.
Loser got up, tossed a ten-dollar bill onto the table. “Okay. See you then.”
As Loser left, I looked at Tom in mild shock.
“You know,” I said. “He’s done nothing but lie to us.”
“I know.” Tom fidgeted with one of his French fries. “He’s a fucking con man and always has been. That’s what we liked about him, remember?”
I rolled my eyes and worked on finishing my salad as Tom finished his French dip.
Lisa’s Voice –
Sid was in one lousy mood when he got home from his meeting. He told me what had happened, then went to sulk in the office. My back was getting a little stiff from sitting all day, so I took a walk outside. By the time dinner rolled around, Darby was not there. At least, he called to let us know that he was going to get dinner with a friend from the orchestra. I could hear the giggles in the background, but decided not to question it. I just told him to be home before nine. His tone was a touch surly, but he agreed.
Sid went off to choir practice and didn’t come back until after nine-thirty, which was a good thing. Darby had arrived home in a somewhat better mood. But as he kissed me good night, I could smell it. He’d had sex, presumably with the young thing I’d heard giggling on the phone.
That night, Sid had two nightmares, which did not make getting up that next morning any easier.
It only got worse. I was beginning to despair of having a good holiday. Sid was still in a lousy mood about the setup that night and was sleepy to boot, thanks to the nightmares. Darby had gone back to acting snotty, and Mama gave him what for as he ran off to school.
Fortunately, Mama and Daddy left to meet Mae for some last-minute Christmas shopping and wouldn’t be home for dinner. I was settling in for some more reading (which was boring me to tears) when Sid called me into the office.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“About that meeting tonight, we’ve got it set up for a park in the Valley.”
I sighed. “What time?”
“Nine-thirty, but do you mind staying here and keeping your parents distracted when they get back? I’d ask Nick, but we need him to keep an eye on Darby.”
“Okay.”
The phone rang and I picked it up. It was Sy and I put it on the speakerphone.
“I have come up with a plan to inform Darby of the allegations against Mr. Crispin, hopefully, in a way that will not only expose the bastard but will not make Darby feel as though we’re trying to get the fellow.” Sy’s voice, as usual, was utterly sonorous. “We will give Darby what he wants. We will set up a meeting with his parents and Mr. Crispin, and ask about his current client list, which is a perfectly legitimate question, then perhaps, in a roundabout way, express our concerns about the over-booking and then the allegations.”
“That sounds like it could work,” I said.
Sid smiled. “I agree. Have you talked to Mae about it?”
“She’s out, I believe,” I said. “I’ll call this evening. Shall we set it up for tomorrow night? At the place of their choosing?”
“Sounds good,” said Sid.
We hung up, then ate lunch. Soon, Sid had to go teach, and I tried not to read the same paragraph over and over.
Darby came home for dinner. Sid stayed out because of his meeting.
“He’s working, isn’t he?” Nick asked me softly as Darby changed clothes from his school uniform.
“I’m afraid so. But you know he’s good.” I hugged Nick, feeling almost as worried about Sid, myself.
Which may be why Darby and I had such a big fight after dinner. Mama and Daddy had come home for dinner, after all, but they and Nick had excused themselves from the table already, Mama and Daddy to watch TV in the rumpus room, Nick to his room to work on his homework.
“I’m going out,” Darby announced as he finished eating.
“What about your homework?”
He shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”
“Yes, it is.” I glared at him. “How much homework do you have?”
Darby squirmed. I could tell he didn’t want to lie to me.
“Not that much.”
“How much is not that much?”
“Just some math, and, um, history questions, and a lab to write up.”
I stared him down. “We’ll talk about you going out when you get all that done.”
“Aw, come on!”
“Come on, what? You know darned well one of the conditions of staying here is that you keep up on your homework.”
“I don’t have to stay here.” Darby was on his feet.
I was on mine. “I know you don’t, but your parents aren’t going to let up on the homework, either. I didn’t say anything about going out last night, and I know damned well what you were up to.”
“Yeah? How?”
“I could smell it. You think I don’t know what sex smells like?”
“It’s my choice!”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t. But I’ll be damned before I make it any easier for you to do something stupid like sleep around.”
“Aren’t you the hypocrite? You married a guy that slept around.”
“He’d stopped before I agreed to, and you know it.”
“Yeah, well, you guys didn’t wait to get married to do it.”
“What we did involved two adults in a committed relationship, neither of which is your situation. And just so you know, we weren’t having sex. We couldn’t. We had to wait because your uncle was afraid he’d been exposed to AIDS and was terrified that he was going to give it to me. Which, by the way, is why he doesn’t want you sleeping around. We don’t want you getting AIDS, and it is in the straight population.”
Darby suddenly sniffed. “I know what I’m doing! I’m keeping covered.”
“Thank God, you’re doing that.”
We stared at each other, both trembling.
I closed my eyes, then took a deep breath. “Darby, please. Just do your homework tonight.”
He nodded and went to his room. And stayed there.
Sid’s Voice –
It had turned cold that night. The air was dry, but the wind blew in off the desert with an icy chill. Loser and I waited in the front seat of his car, watching the orange glow of the park lights on the path. It was one of those long swathes of green that follow a cemented-in gully along Laurel Canyon Boulevard. Tom had taken up a position near the restroom, but Whitemore had said he’d meet him on the path around eight. It was not even seven-thirty.
“Not unlike ‘Nam,” Loser said after an extended silence.
“How would you know?” I glared at him. “You didn’t stay that long.”
“Long enough.” Loser shuddered. After a minute, he sighed. “Look, I understand why you’re mad at me.”
“You do?” I seriously doubted that.
“It sucks that you didn’t get the chance I did to swap dog tags, but it’s not my fault.”
“Like hell, it isn’t.” I shook my head to clear it. “And that’s not why I am mad at you. I am mad because I have spent almost twenty years feeling like absolute shit because I came back, and you didn’t. Absolute shit.”
“Ah. Survivor guilt. That’s a bitch. I know.”
As if he did. At that point, I realized I didn’t care. It had felt bad enough thinking about all the other guys I’d known who didn’t make it back. That Loser hadn’t been one of them after all, didn’t really make any difference.
“I am also pissed about all the lies and shit you’ve been pulling, putting my family in the crosshairs.”
“Yeah. Sorry about that.” He looked at me and sighed. “You weren’t supposed to get sucked into it. Turns out somebody didn’t make contact like he was supposed to. Or maybe he has a reason for laying low. Or somebody else may have lied to me, and God knows, he would have.”
I chose not to respond.
A lone man came walking down the path. It looked like what I remembered of Whitemore’s relatively heavy profile. Loser quietly got out of the car.
“It’s time,” he said. “You stay put here unless it looks like Tom needs the help.”
“Right.”
I would have loved to have been wired. I would have loved to have had Lisa there, waiting on the restroom roof, her rifle in hand.
Tom left the shadows of the restroom and approached Whitemore. He was about fifty paces away when I saw the flare of a gun blast in the parking lot, then heard the crack. Tom fell. I slid out of the car, my automatic in hand, looking for the source of the fire.
There was a dark figure crouched about three cars down from me. Crouching low myself, I slid in that direction. More shots were fired, this time aimed toward the dark figure behind the cars. I ducked again. I couldn’t see Loser. Tom remained face down on the walk.
Whitemore had sought cover behind a tree that was far too small to cover him. The dark figure popped up from behind the car long enough for me to see his face. It was Harlan Cobb. I couldn’t figure out why he was shooting at his partner. I debated aiming for him, but realized that I wasn’t covered from Whitemore and would only give away my position.
Cobb suddenly ducked without firing. I looked over toward Whitemore. Loser and another larger form I vaguely recognized slammed into the crooked Fed in a squeeze play. Whitemore tried to break free. The larger man punched Whitemore, and Whitemore fell, but didn’t entirely stop struggling. Loser got his knee on Whitemore’s back and pressed the nose of his automatic behind Whitemore’s ear.
“You’re dead if you move, Whitemore,” the other man yelled, and I suddenly realized it was Zack Peters.
He roughly handcuffed Whitemore, then, laughing, he and Loser yanked Whitemore to his feet. A second later, Cobb popped up from behind the car and fired twice, both times landing in Whitemore’s chest. I tried to draw a bead on Cobb, but he was off and running. I fired anyway. He was gone.
I ran over to where Tom was on the sidewalk. He was still breathing. I grunted as I rolled him over.
Tom opened his eyes. “Are we clear?”
“Yeah. It’s all over. Where’d you get hit?”
Tom laughed. “I didn’t. I just got down and stayed down.”
“Oh, thanks be.” I sat back on my heels. “Fuck, Freeman, you scared the living shit out of me!”
“Better than getting hit and both of us having to explain it to Angelique.” Tom grunted a little as he sat up. “Where’s Loser?”
“Right here.” Loser walked up, with Peters behind him. “Looks like you’re okay, Freeman.”
“Not a scratch. You guys?” Tom stopped as he looked at Peters. “Who are you?”
“Some help that showed.” Loser shrugged. “He’ll take care of Whitemore and the cops.”
“And if you guys don’t want to be around for that, I figure you’ve got about five minutes,” Peters said.
I followed Tom to his car. Tom drove me to where I’d parked mine at an all-night diner on Ventura Boulevard. A half hour later, I was not surprised to see Peters waiting for me as I pulled into my driveway. I parked outside and went to talk to him in his car.
“I thought you were working this by yourself.”
“I thought I was, too.” Peters shrugged. “But our mutual friend had other ideas.”
“What the fuck?”
“He’d already set Renfrew up as part of this.” Peters made a face. “I don’t know why he thinks involving civilians is such a good idea.”
“Good thing I was told to help. What’s going on with Whitemore?”
Peters shrugged. “He’s dead. Don’t know who shot him, though.”
“It was Cobb. I saw him do it. And he aimed right at Whitemore. He wasn’t trying to hit you two.”
“That’s an interesting twist.”
“Isn’t it, though?”
Peters let out his breath, and it fogged in the night’s chill. “Well. Time to call it a night.”
I went back up the driveway, got my car running and into the garage. Only to find Lisa and her mother were fighting with each other. I didn’t need that and decided to find Daddy, who was wisely staying out of it.
The two women patched it up shortly after ten, for which I was grateful. Apparently, the gist of the fight was that Lisa had gotten a little too frank with Darby about our sex life before the wedding, such as it was. Lisa was also upset about the fight with Darby, but put that aside to ask about my night.
I told her what had happened, and neither of us could come to any real conclusion. Then I asked what had happened with Darby, and there were no conclusions to come to there, either.
“It’s, like, this will be the worst Christmas ever!” Lisa groaned as we held each other in our bed.
“It may be,” I sighed. “But you know, it’s still better than anything else I’ve ever experienced.”
She sighed. “You’re right. And there’s still time for things to get better.”
My hand slid down onto her sweet, sweet breasts. She chuckled.
“Honestly?” she asked.
I blinked. “I’d like to get some sleep tonight.”
We don’t sleep very well when we don’t make love. So, we pretty much make love every night. I was (and still am) getting more sex than I ever did before. Who knew?
Thank you for reading. For more information about the Operation Quickline series, click here.
Please check out the Fiction page for the latest on all my novels. Or look me up at your favorite independent bookstore. Mine is Vroman’s, in Pasadena, California.