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Last Place You Look book cover

The Last Place You Look
Book Seven of the Bradford Exiles Saga
Wes Boyd
©2012, ©2014




Chapter 20

Cleaning all the stuff out of the trunk of the Toyota took a while – there was more there than John had realized. At least he had Warren there to talk to during the process, which helped a bit. Finally the chore was done, and probably well done at that. It would be a while before he drove the Toyota again, if he ever did. With a jaundiced look at the damage without an Oldsmobile jammed into it, it looked fairly serious, and John wouldn’t be surprised if the insurance company decided it would cost more to fix than the car was worth. Not being an expert on it, he suspected it was right on the borderline. A new car might not be all that bad an idea anyway.

John went into his office in a degree of relief. With any kind of luck there shouldn’t be anything to interrupt him from working on the Tomtucknee Regional bid he’d been trying to get to for days. He flipped on the computer, and while it was booting up he sat back in his office chair trying to pull himself together.

Face facts, he thought. The last goddamn thing I want to do right now is work on that fucking bid. Not that I can think of anything else I want to do, except maybe go home, take my shoes off, have a couple beers and chill. But shit, with Mandy, Sally, and Teresa there I’m sure not going to get any chilling out done. One fucking crisis after another! Maybe I’d better make good use of my time while I have the chance . . .

WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! Someone was pounding on the front door, and not just with a hand – maybe a hammer; John couldn’t tell. Whoever it was, it sounded like they wanted in bad.

Now what the hell?

“Warren, get the fuck out here,” he heard a woman’s voice yell, faint though it was through the wall. “I know you’re in there!”

“Fuck, that’s my wife,” he heard Warren say as the salesman rushed down the hall. “Try to hold her off for a minute while I get out of here! She sounds pissed!”

“No shit,” John said, hoping the glass of the front door would hold out against what she was pounding it with. It was supposed to be unbreakable, at least against normal things, but a hammer . . . well, right at the moment getting out of there himself sounded like a good idea.

But, no. If she broke in and was as pissed as she seemed to be, she could cause some damage. Where was Max and his Czech machine pistol when he needed him?

John heard the back door close; Warren hadn’t taken much time to get out of sight. Maybe he could buy him a little more time, but he wanted to stay out of the crossfire if he could. Once again, he picked up the phone and dialed 9-1-1.

“Sarasota 9-1-1, how can I help you?” a woman’s voice on the other end of the line said; it sounded like the same woman he had talked to earlier.

“Someone is beating on the front door of my office with a hammer or something,” he told her. “I think they’re trying to break in.” He gave her the address.

“I’ll have someone there as quickly as I can,” she said. “Please stay on the line.”

The pounding on the front door continued, so apparently Warren had made his getaway, or at least had the time to do it. No freaking wonder he wanted as little to do with her as he could! Somehow John expected he wouldn’t be seeing Warren again for a while, although it would be hell to lose his top salesman. Maybe some accommodation could be made.

“The officers say they’re about thirty seconds out,” the call center dispatcher said. “Are they still trying to break in?”

“Sounds like it,” John said, sounding a little worried. Well, he was worried. If she broke in, as pissed as she was, and was swinging something heavy, he could get hurt.

Fortunately, Warren’s wife was still pounding on the door when the police car drove in, and the situation was soon under control, as John watched the best he could out of an office window that barely had a view of the scene. “It looks like they have her down,” he told the dispatcher. “I suppose I’d better go out and talk to the officers.”

“Please wait inside until they tell me the scene is secure,” she replied professionally.

It took a few minutes before the dispatcher said he could go outside and talk to the officers. John walked out to the front of the office, unlocked the door from inside and stepped outside. “Everything all right?” he asked cautiously.

“You again?” one of the officers said. “Didn’t we just talk to you at an accident an hour ago?”

“Looks like I’m giving you guys a busy night,” John said, a little relieved. “Now what the hell is this all about?”

“The woman we have in the car was pounding on your front door with a tire iron,” the older officer said. “She says her husband stole something of hers. You wouldn’t happen to be him, would you?”

“No way, I’m not married,” John shook his head, “and I’m damn glad I’m not married to her.”

“Do you have someone named Warren in the building?”

“He works for me, but he’s not here,” John told the cop. “I’m the only one here.”

“She says she saw his car out back.”

“The only vehicle out back is the company van,” John told them. “The car you saw earlier and a non-running Jag are the only vehicles inside the building.” That was true now, he thought, although it hadn’t been true when the commotion started. He turned and looked at the front door; the glass had held, although there were several chips and spider fractures in it. “She sure pounded the hell out of this door, though.”

“I suppose you’re going to want to swear out a complaint about that?”

“You damn bet,” John snorted. “That’s not a cheap door, and fixing it isn’t going to be cheap, either.”

“We’ll add it to the list,” the older cop said. “She took a swing at me with that fucking tire iron. That’s assault with a deadly weapon. And she had to drive down here, and she smells higher than a kite although we haven’t run a blood alcohol test on her. I don’t suppose you know where her husband is?”

“No way of telling, but I could leave a message on his cell or something.”

“If you can get hold of him, have him call the station. But you don’t need to be in any damn big rush about it.”

It took a while to deal with the paperwork and make the statement the cops needed. It wasn’t going to be any fun to take Warren’s wife downtown, since they could still hear her yelling from inside the cop car. “You take care,” the older cop said in the end. “With any kind of luck maybe you won’t have to call us again tonight.”

“Yeah, this is getting tiresome.”

John stood outside and watched the police car drive off. Shit, what a day, he thought. Maybe tomorrow I’d better call Annamaria and see if she has some relative who can work on that door, although it looks like it ought to be safe enough for tonight. That’s one good thing about this business, he thought wryly. Even if some crack head did break in here and clean us out, there’s no way in hell he could fence any of the Murasaki stuff. Hell, it’s hard enough to sell legally, and how many crack heads would know what it’s used for, anyway?

Back in his office with the outside door locked, John looked at the computer screen. He hadn’t even gotten the program open to look at the Tomtucknee Regional bid, much less some of the other stuff that had gotten shoved to the side this week. Got to get to work on that, he thought, but maybe I should let Warren know the coast is clear.

He picked up his phone and dialed Warren’s cell phone; a little to his surprise, Warren answered it: “What’s up, John?”

“You ought to be safe for a while,” John answered. “The cops just hauled her off. Seems like she took a swing at one of them with a tire iron, so they might keep her for a few minutes.”

“Yeah, I saw them,” Warren sighed. “I decided to just find a dark spot up the street so I could watch what happened. I’ll be back in a couple minutes, but I’ll be coming in the back, just in case.”

“Hell, I figured you’d be halfway to Alabama by now.”

“Believe me, I thought about it. See you in a couple.”

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before John met Warren coming in the back door. “Sorry about that, John,” he said. “She apparently got a hair up her ass about something and enough booze in her system to do something about it.”

“Shit, I know what you mean. She sure made a mess of the front door. Maybe that’ll give you a few days breathing room.”

“Not likely,” Warren snorted. “Her mother probably will have her bailed out in a few minutes. That’s who Martha gets that shit from, anyway.”

“Just out of curiosity, what was it that you were supposed to have stolen from her?”

“Shit if I know. Her virginity, maybe. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s pitched a fit over that. Look, I’ve pretty well gotten the paperwork done I needed to do. I think I’d better head back to the back room, grab a few things and head for Alabama.”

“Can’t say as I blame you.” John shook his head. Lisa and Susan, and Julie for that matter, may have had their problems but being violent wasn’t one of them. Mandy, well, that was another issue. “Beating feet sounds like it has some potential,” he continued.

“Yeah, it may be a while before I’m back next time,” Warren sighed. “At least till this shit blows over, unless it turns out this is enough to keep her in jail for a while. I’m not holding my breath on that one, though. I’m gonna grab a couple things I left behind in the rush and hit the road. I can be out of the state by the time the sun comes up and there’s nothing else to hang around here for.”

“Your call on that one. You’re probably better off laying a little low for right now anyway. But look, Warren, I don’t want to lose you over this. You’re too good at this stuff, and I’d really be up shit creek if I didn’t have you out there flogging units.”

“I’m not planning on leaving Suncoast if I can help it,” Warren told him quietly. “You put up with this shit too well and cut me a lot of slack about it. All I have to do is to put up with it for another twenty-three months and things should get a lot smoother.”

“Maybe we can rig things around so you don’t have to come back here as often.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Warren nodded. “I’ve still got stuff I want to get out of the house if I can, but I’ll tell you what, it’s getting to the point where I’m starting to wonder if it’s not more of a pain in the ass than it’s worth. Maybe I’d be better off without that stuff. Look, let me get a few things from my office here, then maybe I can slide by the house and pack up a little more while the cops still have her occupied.”

“Sounds like a plan to me. Take care, Warren, and keep in touch.”

It only took Warren a few minutes to clean up what work he’d been doing back in the salesman’s office, whatever it was, and soon he was on his way. John headed back to his own office, thinking about his top salesman. A guy who could do the job like he’d been doing, well, it was worth putting up with a few hassles. Still, John had the nasty little thought in the back of his mind that if the shit Warren was putting up with from his wife got too bad he could see his top salesman looking for other opportunities far away from Suncoast. Maybe driving camels to Timbuktu or something else safe, peaceful, and far away.

Maybe it was time to think about looking for another salesman or two. After all, Hal in North Carolina didn’t seem to be moving units the way he ought to be, and that was something that needed to be looked into. But, not tonight. It needed to be watched, but it could wait until things settled down a little. If they ever did.

Shit, what a day he thought, looking at the computer screen; he still hadn’t brought up the Tomtucknee Regional bid. Although it needs to get done, he thought, there’s just no way in hell I have the energy to deal with this shit tonight. I’ve had enough to hold me for one day.

Part of his mind wanted to work on the bid anyway, but when his fingers reached for the mouse, all he could do was shut the computer down.

Fuck this shit, he thought. It can wait till tomorrow, and I’d better get it done tomorrow, because Monday looks like it’s going to be a bitch. Two different insurance claims to deal with, two different companies, and both probably liked to pay claims about as much as Democrats like to cut taxes. If the company that insured the car decided to pay for repairs, it was still probably going to take weeks to get the Toyota back. Seeing about getting the Jag fixed was something else that had to be done, not that having it fixed was going to help his mobility problem much, considering its permanent reliability problem. Using the van was going to be a pain in the ass, since there were other things it was used for besides hauling him around.

And undoubtedly there was going to be more spinoff from the accident and Warren’s wife; both could be anticipated to crop up on Monday, too. On top of that, Teresa’s hospital bill and the hassle with the tow company crooks were lying there like snakes in the grass to rise up and bite him. There was probably something else that just wasn’t coming to mind, now; he was too tired.

A few minutes later he was in the van, with the office dark behind him. At least he was heading home, not that it seemed like that was going to be any relaxation: there was still the issue about Sally and Mandy, but it didn’t seem like there was going to be any resolution to that whole mess anytime soon. The best he could hope for was to have two or three beers to settle his nerves, and get something like a good night’s sleep. Maybe things would look better in the morning, although he doubted it.

It was something of a relief to realize that he’d managed to grab the garage door opener out of the Toyota. There was enough room in the garage for the van, although barely; it was a snug fit. He noticed that there was a pile of stuff along the back wall of the garage, probably most of the stuff from Mandy’s car. At least that much had gotten done. He shut off the van, punched the opener to close the door, and just sat in the van trying to gather enough energy to get out. Now, if the women would just give him a break tonight, he might make it to morning.

Finally, he had no choice: he had to get inside and find out what fresh crisis had brewed in his absence. Hopefully it would be something he could deal with. He got out of the van and headed into the house, stopping at the refrigerator to grab a beer before he went any further.

“You’re back sooner than I expected,” Sally said from the couch in front of the TV set. “Did you get the work done you needed to do?”

“Don’t make me laugh,” John snorted. “I never even got started on it. Where’s Mandy and Teresa?”

“Teresa sort of fell asleep in front of the computer. Mandy and I had a hell of a time getting her into bed. I mean, getting her there wasn’t any great trouble, but getting her clothes changed, well, that wasn’t easy. Mandy is taking a shower. I just turned this on because I couldn’t think of anything better to do. I take it you had a tough time.”

“Yeah, shit was coming out of the woodwork at me, and I’m just beat to a frazzle. I hope you don’t have any new disasters to report.”

“Nothing at all. It’s been pretty quiet here. What happened?”

“One of our wonderful senior citizens piled her car into the back of the Toyota,” John reported. “So now it’s down for the count. I had it towed to the office, then Warren’s wife showed up and tried to beat the door down with a tire iron. By the time I got all that shit under control I just didn’t have the energy to deal with what I went there to work on in the first place. Now all I need is to relax enough to be able to get to sleep.”

“Well,” she grinned as she got to her feet and started peeling off her shirt. “You have the perfect solution to that out on the patio. Get your clothes off and go get in the hot tub. I’ll come join you.”

“You know,” he said with some relief in his voice, “I think you have something there.”

In only a couple minutes the two were in the warm waters of the hot tub, nude as usual, with John telling her about the events of the evening, trying to keep it low key, and to keep his anger from flaring. Talking it out relieved some of the tension, and Sally was being a good listener. He soon drained the beer, and it had helped to relax him too.

After a while Mandy came out onto the patio, wearing a robe. “Oh, there you are,” she said. “I was sort of wondering. Mind if I join you?”

“Glad to have you, but the price of admission is going to be bringing me another beer.”

“I can manage that,” she smirked as she took off her robe.

She was back within seconds, carrying two cans of beer; one most likely for herself. “Thanks,” he said as she handed one to him. “I really appreciate that.”

“You know,” she laughed as she got into the tub, “I can’t help but think that you’re living the life you dreamed of back in high school. I mean, naked women bringing you beer.”

“I may have dreamed of something like that, but I never imagined all the shit that comes along with it. I hate to say it, but it doesn’t really balance out. So I take it you don’t have any fresh disasters to report either.”

“No, it’s been pretty quiet,” she replied. “I keep expecting Joe to come pounding on the door, but there’s no reason he should find me here.”

“Have you figured out what you’re going to do about him?” Sally asked.

“Oh, there’s no question that I’m going to divorce him,” Mandy smiled. “And I kind of like John’s idea of finding some little town out in the middle of nowhere to do it. I’ve done the Las Vegas divorce thing twice before, so I know the drill, but six weeks in Las Vegas is really a pain in the ass. I don’t know of anyplace else, though.”

“It ought to work,” John laughed. “I remember Jennlynn telling me one time that several girls have worked through their Nevada residency at the place she works, well, on the weekends she works. They’re supposed to have a divorce lawyer in the town who’s even cheaper than the ones in Vegas.”

She shook her head and slapped him lightly on the arm. “John, you’re not suggesting I get a job there, are you?”

“Well, not really,” he said. “Although you’d have to admit it’d be a really different experience for you. All I’m really saying is that there are other places to get a quickie divorce in Nevada than in Vegas.”

“It’s not something I’d want to do,” Sally sighed. “I’ll be the first person to admit that I’ve slept around from time to time but at least I can say that I’ve never been paid to do it. I mean, I’d do it if I had to, but so far I’ve managed to avoid it.”

“I don’t think I’d be up for it either, unless I really had to,” Mandy agreed.

“If it’s any consolation, I think it takes a special kind of mind set, at least to do it well,” John opined. “I don’t think either of you have it, and I don’t think I’d like to see either of you give it a try.”

“In a way, I think that’s a relief,” Sally smiled. “I mean, I can think of some circumstances where it might be all right for me, like maybe being a semi-permanent paid girlfriend or something, but I don’t think I could be that industrial about it.”

They sat around talking about it for a while, with John illustrating his opinion with his experiences in Nevada, especially the Redlite Ranch. He kept it light, and told a couple funny stories, like the time he was present when a guy came in looking for some action and found his sister in the lineup. “It got really awkward there for a while,” he summarized. “But when it was all said and done, he took her out back. Seems it was something he’d always wanted to do anyway.” The laughter helped ease his tensions as much as anything.

Eventually the talk drifted to other topics, especially their classmates, and soon John found that he’d emptied the beer that Mandy had brought him. “Would you like another one?” Sally asked.

“I could probably stand one,” he replied, “but I’ve got to get rid of a couple first, and as long as I’m out of the hot tub it probably would be better to just go ahead and hit the hay. I’m going to try to catch up on some sleep, so don’t be waking me up in the morning.”

“I probably ought to go to bed myself,” Sally agreed. “I’d like to be up before Teresa wakes up, so I guess this is a good place to break it off for the night. It’s been real, and all of that.”

John got out of the hot tub, dried himself off and headed for the bathroom – it had been becoming a necessity. At least this day is over with, he thought; he didn’t need another one like this anytime soon, in spite of the things that had gone right. That bed was going to feel good.

He walked out of the bathroom into the bedroom, and saw Mandy lying in the bed, half covered with the sheet; she was still as nude as she’d been in the hot tub. “John,” she said, “there’s something else you need to relax. Won’t you let me spend the night with you?”



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