Dick (14 page)

The sound of another gunshot shot made me flinch.

Dick pulled out his gun. “If those motherfuckers hit you or my cat…”

The carriage was almost past.

“Open your door!” he demanded.

Reluctantly, I did as he asked.

“Ready?” he asked.

I wasn’t.

I inhaled a deep breath and nodded.

And he pushed me out of the car and into the wet street.

TWENTY-TWO

Dick

JESS
fell out of the car with the finesse of a trained Hollywood stuntwoman. When she hit the ground, she rolled into the center of the street and stretched out like she’d been killed.

The cops who were following me slammed on the brakes. Physically unable to drive around her, and bound by sworn oath to provide her assistance, it appeared they were doing just that. I turned to the right, hit the gas, and intentionally spun the car into a 180 degree turn, shooting off to the left. The car slid sideways, and the engine revved as I fishtailed up the street toward the highway.

A quick check of the rearview mirror produced no one. Nonetheless, I hammered the gas, sped toward the highway on-ramp, and hoped there were no more cops on my tail.

Once on the highway, the roads had been traveled enough that they were dry from the early evening Texas rainstorm. I didn’t need to be in a chase with the police if I didn’t have to be, and as it appeared, I was alone in my travels.

I slowed to 70 miles an hour, checked my mirrors periodically, and couldn’t help but laugh when I pulled off the highway fifteen minutes later with not a soul in sight.

Feeling rather anxious, I pulled over in a hardware store parking lot and set the parking brake. I grabbed Jess’ purse, scanned through contents, and found nothing.

I looked again.

Nothing.

One item at a time, I removed each and every article from her purse.

Nothing.

Frustrated, I tossed the purse beside the growling leopard, and scanned the passenger side floor.

A glistening from the center of the floor mat shot a glimmer of hope through my bloodstream. I got out of the car, walked to the passenger door, and opened it. I stared down at the floorboard where Jess’ purse had been, and immediately grinned.

Against the black carpeting, the 10 carat stone looked like a fascinating pebble.

A $3,500,000 pebble.

I picked it up, held it under the streetlight, and smiled at the thought of it all.

My life was almost in order.

All I needed was one more thing.

Jess.

TWENTY-THREE

Jess

I
wasn’t hurt at all, but tried to act like I was half-dead. Two men from the carriage hopped out and ran toward me.

“Don’t fucking move,” one of the cops yelled.

I wasn’t going anywhere. I was too drunk, and kind of sore. “I’m not,” I murmured.

“I said don’t fucking move,” he yelled again.

Apparently, he was talking to the fifty-year-old dude with the red hair who was walking over to see if I was hurt.

“I’ll shoot your dumb ass where you stand, Motherfucker.”

I looked toward the cop.

Oh. My. God.

His lip was covered in an award-winning porno ‘stache. I almost barfed.

I glanced toward the two men from the carriage.

“Lower your fahkin’ weapon,” the red-haired man said. “Ian Earling, I’m an ambassador...”

“Keep your hands where I can see them.” The cop interrupted.

“Fahk off,” his partner shouted. “I’ll have yahr fahkin’ job.”

“Ambassador?” the cop asked. “Did you say you’re an ambassador?”

“You’re fahking right. Republic of Ireland.”

“You have papers?”

“You’ll see ‘em when I see yer badge.”

I glanced at the mustache toting cop. Another cop was standing to the side, hiding behind the cover of the car with his gun drawn as well.

Holy shit.

Badges and diplomatic immunity paperwork were exchanged. Apologies were given, and weren’t necessarily accepted. I wondered if I could leave. No one seemed to be paying attention to me. I pressed my palms into the wet street, raised myself from the ground, and attempted to stand.

The cop at the car yelled for me to get on the ground.

“You, in the dress, don’t fucking move!”

Jesus.

My knees ached. Other than that I was a little wet, but unharmed. I stood as still as I could.

“Get on the ground.”

“I just got up.”

“Get on the fucking ground,” he barked.

I pressed my hands to my hips. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’ve got her, Joe,” mustache said. He placed his hand against my shoulder. “Come with me, Lady.”

“Am I under arrest?”

He tugged me toward the car. “I said come with me.”

I shot him a shitty drunken glare. “I asked you a question.”

“You’re being detained. Get in the car.”

Detained.

Sounds official.

He pushed me against the car. “I’m going to pat you down, it’s policy.”

“Enjoy yourself,” I said in a sarcastic tone.

He frisked me. “No I.D. No purse, no anything?”

“I travel light.”

“What were you doing in the club?”

I saw no reason to lie, and from what Dick said, if everything went our way – which it did – I could tell them the truth.

I turned around. The top of his mustache crept into his mouth. My stomach convulsed. “I was buying a diamond.”

He pulled against it with his bottom lip. “Were you, now?”

I looked away. “I was trying.”

He cleared his throat. “Why’d you come outside?”

I focused on cop number two. He looked like a game show host. “I was planning on barfing.”

“What stopped you?”

I turned to face mustache. “From?”

“Barfing?”

“I saw the guy in the Ferrari. I thought he left earlier. You know, when he left. When I saw him, I just got in his car. He told me to get out, and I told him I wanted to suck him off. I tried to suck his cock, and he tossed me out in front of the horses.”

“Looked like you had a purse when you got in the car. Where’s your purse?”

I looked away. I’d reached my mustache quota for the month. “I’m drunk as fuck. I don’t know where my ass is right now, let alone my purse.”

He laughed. “So you were buying a diamond, decided to barf, and hopped in a car to suck a guy off. Was he paying you for that blowjob?”

“I’m not a whore, Asshole.”

“Givin’ ‘em away, huh?”

“He was a good dancer.” I shrugged. “I thought maybe…”

“Where’s the diamond?”

I tossed my head toward the supper club. “Last I saw it; it was down there.”

“Load her up,” cop two barked.

Mustache tugged against my shoulder. “We’re taking you in for questioning.”

“Can we stop for a cheeseburger?”

He shot me an evil glare with a mustache accoutrement. “You got a lot of nerve.”

“I’ve got a full bladder, sore knees, and I’m fucking hungry.”

“No, we’re not stopping for a cheeseburger. Give us some information about your partner, and we’ll see if we can get you a cup of coffee.”

“My partner?”

“Yeah.”

“Her name’s Katie. She likes threesomes and being fisted. Probably right up your alley. You’re in the industry, right?”

He did look like a porn star. I thought he might appreciate the remark.

I was wrong.

“You smart-mouthed little bitch.”

Dick could call me a bitch. I found it on the cusp of being cute. Anyone else? Yeah, not so much.

“Fuck off, pig.”

The game show host loosened his tie and opened the door. Mustache pushed me into the back seat.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“10:00 straight up,” Mustache answered.

They could do whatever they wanted.

But if everything went as planned, it’d only last an hour.

TWENTY-FOUR

Dick

NOT
knowing Jess’ status weighed down on me hard. I sat in the kitchen sipping whiskey feeling that the recovery of the diamond – and my investment money – wasn’t as important as I had previously believed.

Had she been gone shopping or at work, an hour would have passed in what seemed like a matter of seconds. Having no idea if she was safe, however, seemed to make time stand still. I began to regret the heist. Forfeiting Jess and gaining the diamond wasn’t a trade I was now willing to do.

But the deal was done.

I found out through the course of everything that trading Jess for $3,500,000 wasn’t a trade I was willing to do.

Jess was priceless.

I grew up in a very wealthy home, the child of a father who made his money off of other people’s investments. When the recession of 2008 hit, people under my father’s financial watch lost everything, while he continued to get even richer. Many lost their jobs, homes, and other material possessions. Yet others lost their ability to see a bright enough future to continue, and committed suicide.

Respect was something my father never earned from me. As a child, being alone because none of the other children were financially worthy of being my friend made some sense at first, but as I grew older, it made no sense. I grew to despise my father’s prosperity, his belief that the gap between the rich and the poor was never great enough, and his manner of feeding his growing wealth.

I sat at the bar drinking my whiskey and staring at the diamond wondering if I was slowly becoming more like him. The proceeds from the diamond were never going to be used for personal reasons, only for causes I believed to be worthy of receiving the wealth. Nonetheless, Jess’ absence made me feel I had paid the ultimate price for the stone.

My phone buzzed.

I jumped from my seat and ran to the end of the bar.

Seton.

“What the fuck?” I asked as I answered.

“Five minutes out.”

Damn, that was quick.

“Everything good?”

“Everything’s great.”

I had Jess’ purse, cell phone, and all of her personal items, so I realized she couldn’t call me. But. I just wanted to hear her voice.

“Let me talk to Jess.”

“I don’t have Jess.”

“You
what
?”

“I’ll see you in a minute, I’m 60 seconds away.”

“Where is she.”

“I’ll see you in a second.”

“Where the fuck is she?”

“Police station.”

“God damn you, Seton. I’ll slaughter your entire family if something happens to her. I swear.”

“Pulling in now.”

The phone went dead.

Fuck!

“What the fuck’s going on?” I screamed as he walked through the front door.

He stopped at the threshold. “Quit being a prick and go get the money. I’ve got to swap some things around. I need a small screwdriver set.”

“Where’s Jess?”

“I told you. The police station. I need to do a few things before I go get her.”

I walked around the corner of the bar and began to stomp my way to where he was standing. “Like fucking what?” I snarled.

“Like making sure they can’t charge her with a crime. Grab that money and get me that screwdriver set.”

“You’ve got the money?”

He nodded. “All of it.”

Having the money was reassuring, but I wanted the girl. I stomped out to the car, grabbed the money, and stomped back into the house.

I tossed the money on the entry hall floor and turned toward the garage. After digging through my toolbox, I returned with a small set of jeweler’s tools.

“Here.”

He carried his diamond tester to the bar, disassembled it, and began to pry against the circuit board with one of the screwdrivers.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He lowered the tool, sighed, and turned to face me. “I tested the stone. It was authentic. I said it didn’t test out. Your plan, Dick, had a hole in it. Now, what I need to do is disable this tester to make it inoperative, go to the police station, and in the event that the question arises – and I suspect it may – I can back up my end of the story. They have a fake 10 carat diamond, but they
may
have a real one that I am unaware of. This way I’m covered no matter what.”

“You lost me.”

“I’m not surprised,” he said.

“Don’t start getting smart with me, you motherfucker. I’ll…”

“Give it a rest, Dick.” He screwed the back onto the tester, slid it into his leather satchel, and glared at me for a second.

“See you in an hour,” he said as he turned away.

I had no idea what his ridiculous plan was fucking up his tester, but he was the attorney, and I wanted to assume he knew what the fuck he was doing.

He paused as he reached for the door. “Where’s the crazy cat?”

Oh fuck.