5 Tutti Frutti

Mike Faricy

Tutti Frutti

Published by
Credit River Publishing 2013

Copyright Mike Faricy 2013

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior and express permission of the copyright owner.

All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Tutti Frutti

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank the following people for their help and support. Thanks to my good friend Dan for his continued help, support, talent and positive attitude. To Pam Stack for her continual help and encouragement. To Kathy LeJeune, Dave Kenney and Charles Ford for their suggestions, feedback, corrections, contacts, friendship and just plain old hard work.
Of course Don ‘Skip’ Jobe for some great lines and Krystal & Bill Bailey. I would like to thank family and friends for their encouragement and unqualified support. Special thanks to Maggie, Jed, Schatz, Pat, Av, Pat and Emily for nodding politely and humoring me. Most of all, thanks to Teresa for her patience, belief and support.

To Teresa

It was the simple things; her smile, her hand or just the sound of her voice that offered protection from the world.

Tutti Frutti

Chapter One

She rolled
on top
of me then whispered, “Dev, wake up.”

“W
hat? God, my head’s killing me.”

We’d met at a concert earlier that night
. I smacked my lips then blinked in an attempt to come awake. I couldn’t believe she wanted to go at it again. Oh well, I was game.

“Shush! Did you hear that?”
She whispered, then sat up in bed and turned her head toward the bedroom door. She was naked and the moonlight shinning through the window made her white skin glow almost iridescent.

“Hear what?” I said
as I tried to recall her name then clearly heard a door close downstairs.

“That.
Jesus, I think it may be my husband.”

“Husband?
”

“
Shush! Quiet.”

I heard a noise
that sounded like a floor creaking or worse, the tread on the stairs. She suddenly pushed me out of the king-sized bed with her feet. I went over the side, landed on the rug, and rolled under the bed just a moment before the bedroom door swung open.

“
Gary,” she cooed, “what time is it? I didn’t expect you home until tonight.”

“Drove all the way up from
Saint Louis. Was outside Madison when I read your text that said you couldn’t wait and I figured well why the hell should we?” The voice was deep and had the slightest hint of a twang maybe Missouri or southern Illinois.

I slithered
farther under the bed and cautiously pulled my clothes on top of me just as one of his cowboy boots was kicked off in my general direction. I was still holding my breath when his jeans dropped to the floor and he crawled into the bed where I’d been less than a minute ago.

“You’ve got it all warmed up for
me.”

“I’ve been dreaming about you baby.
You were about to be a very naughty boy. Let’s see if we can still make that happen.”

“Oh
, it’s happening…”

I heard
the rhythmic squeak of the box spring and her by-now familiar moaning. Then I laid there for what felt like hours listening to his snoring. Eventually, I got the courage to quietly slink out the bedroom door all the while afraid the pounding from my heart would wake him. I cautiously crept down the stairs and quickly made my way to the back door where I pulled on my jeans then slipped outside. I finished dressing in their driveway when I remembered my car was still parked at Charlie’s, a bar about a mile away. I started walking.

I was almost to my car
; in fact I could see the parking lot when it hit me, her name, Bunny. It was close to five by the time I pulled into my driveway. The sky was gray and just beginning to lighten on the horizon as the sun came up. At least it was Sunday and I could sleep in.

Chapter Two

I
was on my
second cup of coffee and staring out our office window watching co-eds waiting for the bus. I had it down to a system. The working girls would board a bus and head east into downtown. Eight minutes later the co-eds boarded a bus and headed west toward St. Catherine’s College. In between buses I could see who was going into The Spot bar for a liquid breakfast.

I was leering at a particular
ly breathtaking brunette waiting for the downtown bus when Louie opened the door. Louie Laufen is my attorney, officemate and pal. He is also certifiable and about an hour and a half late. He threw his laptop case on his desk, actually a picnic table, and made his way toward the coffee pot.

“You
get tied up in all the trouble after that concert Saturday night? God, the riot is still on the news this morning. They had to call out the damn SWAT Team. All that looting and damage downtown, I don’t get it.”

“You mean the car
s set on fire and battling the cops?” I asked then set my binoculars on the window sill.

“Yeah,
you didn’t have any trouble did you?”

“Yes and no.
I sort of met someone.”

“
Spare me the details. Hey, I got a guy coming in around eleven, Joey Cazzo, ring any bells?

“No
not really, but I’m guessing you’re going to tell me.”

“How about the Tutti Frutti Club
?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it. O
ne of the few bars I’ve never been in,” I said. I was back on the binoculars checking out a young mommy pushing a stroller down the street. She was a blonde wearing tight white shorts and a powder blue top with spaghetti straps. I was searching for tan lines.

“Hey
, pervert,” Louie said.

“I
think she’s someone I know.” I was appraising her rear as she turned the corner.

“
Sure she is, not that she’d ever admit knowing you. Anyway, the Tutti Frutti Club, I think the joint is owned by the D’Angelo brothers.”

“Those gangster
guys?” I lowered the binoculars and turned to face him.

“Allegedly,” Louie said
. He sat down behind his picnic table desk, put his feet up and sipped his coffee.

“Allegedly? S
ounds like you’re representing them. That’s heavy duty, man, you’re really scraping the bottom with those creeps.”

“Alleged creeps.
Actually, Cazzo represents them or at least he sort of does. He was disbarred awhile back, so he does the work and just needs someone with a license to file motions and shit. I’ll do it strictly for cash.”

“File motions and shit
, is that more of your legal talk? How’d he find you?”

“We were in law school together. I think I’
m one of the few people who answered his phone call. Come to think of it. I may have been the only one.”

“And he’s coming in here
this morning?” There was no way we were going to get the place looking professional in that short time frame. Maybe we could ditch the dart board and the empty beer case. I couldn’t come up with much else we could do to spruce up the dump.

“How ab
out if you take a hike for an hour? You know, get some fresh air. All in the interest of client confidentiality and that sort of bullshit.”

“More
legal talk? Yeah, sure, I suppose I can do that. We wouldn’t want your client to get the wrong impression when he sees your picnic table. When do you want me out of here?”

“
How about now?” Louie slurped some coffee.

“Now?”

“Yeah now. Why, are you working on something important?” He ran his eyes up and down, studying me. I was dressed in sandals, shorts, a St. Paul Saint’s T-shirt, Summit Beer baseball cap, and still holding my binoculars.

“I suppose I could take a break
from all this. Call me when you’re finished. I’ll be over at The Spot,” I said and placed the binoculars in my open desk drawer.

“
I appreciate it, Dev. We shouldn’t be more than an hour or so,” Louie said.

It turned out to be closer to two and a half hours. Jimmy was bartending. I’d read the newspaper, made a couple of phone call
s, and was nursing a beer when the bar phone rang.

“The Spot,” Ji
mmy answered. He glanced over at me while he listened to the caller. “Yeah, he’s sitting on his usual stool. I’ll send him over, it’s bad for business to have him in here for any length of time,” he said then hung up.

“Louie
?” I asked.

“
Yeah, he said it’s safe for you to go back to your office. Besides, you’re chasing away all our business.”

I looked around
the place. It was apparently a light traffic day for The Spot. There were two other guys at the bar sitting three stools apart. Neither one had said a word during the two hours I’d been here. A regular named Rita occupied the far back booth. She was either passed out or asleep, not that there was much difference. Everyone knew that leaving her alone was the lesser of many evils.

“Yeah, I can just imagine the line forming
to get in this place as soon as I leave.”

“It co
uld happen,” Jimmy said, sounding hopeful.

Chapter Three

When I entered the
office, Louie was seated behind my desk counting out a large stack of twenty dollar bills. He didn’t bother to glance up. He remained focused on his task, moving his lips silently counting each bill he pealed off. When he finished he looked up at me with a big smile.

“You feel like grabbing dinner somewhere tonight
? My treat.”

“Can we get out of the car or d
o we have to order at the drive-up window again?”

“I’m serious
, man. I mean it, a restaurant with table cloths, fine wine, and all that shit.”

“Yeah? Why, w
hat do you want?” I asked, immediately suspicious.

“What
, I can’t ask a pal, the guy I share an office with, to dinner?”

“No,
it’s just that I have this feeling you got something up your sleeve. You know, like you’re going to want some sort of favor.”

“Dev, all I want to do is have a nice
dinner with you. If it’s going to be a problem, you don’t have to go. That’s fine. I’ve just come into a little bit of good luck.” He glanced down at the pile of cash he’d just counted now neatly stacked in front of him. “I just thought it might be fun to share a bit of my good luck with you. No problem if you don’t want to go.”

“
As long as you put it that way, okay. How ‘bout the Five-Ten?” I asked.

“The joint over on
Hennipen Avenue? Umm, I’m not sure they want me back there just yet. Have you ever been to Café Biaggio?”

“Yeah
, and not a good idea. That’s the place I took that Terry chick when we broke up. She made a scene, threw her pasta at me, then ran out the door with the wine bottle.”

Louie nodded, remembering my tale. “
The Saigon?”

“Probably not
I dated one of the daughters. If she’s working she’d probably do something to our food.”

We went back an
d forth like this for a few minutes. Wherever one suggested the other wasn’t all that welcome. I guess it’s one of the things that happen when you’re an actively-dating individual, some not-so-great memories, and the occasional repercussion. Anyway, we ended up at Shamrock’s because we both like the burgers; know most of the bartenders, and the waitresses are nice.

***

I was on my third or fourth Summit, enjoying the scenery walking around us when Louie finally got around to why he was plying me with beer and burgers.

“So w
hat’s your work schedule like?”

“I’m pretty busy
from eight-thirty to about nine-fifteen every morning and maybe four-thirty until close to five-thirty every night watching chicks get on and off the bus. Other than that I could probably fit something in. Why?”

“Remembe
r I mentioned the Tutti Frutti Club?”

I nodded
and let my eyes follow a woman walking past our table.