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Authors: P D Miller

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BOOK: Missy's Gentle Giant
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“You still have it?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Don’t know, never thought about
it.”

“I’ll be damned!  Did you tell
her who—but of course, she’d recognize the name.”

Ben shook his head.  “I just
told her Ben.  I told your mother Spinelli, but she didn’t seem to remem—”

“Mom wouldn’t remember.  She
was too busy chasing a houseful of teenage boys.”  Gonzalo grinned. 
“Man, wait until I tell Melissa who brought her home.”

“Yeah.”  Ben stiffened. 
“I’d better get back.  Got to get this damn truck down to Harlingen
today.”

“Yeah, and I’ve got to get
home.”  Gonzalo rose and reached in his pocket, but Ben threw several
bills on the table ahead of him.

Most of the drive back was quiet
with each man lost in private thoughts.  Ben finally turned to
Gonzalo.  “You said you have six trucks but you’re paying for eight—”

“Run of bad luck.”  Gonzalo
had a glint of anger in his eyes.

“Accidents?”

“No.”  Gonzalo glanced at
Ben.  “Two of my trucks were confiscated by the DEA.  They found coke
in them.”

“Coke?  Damn Gonzalo, I never
thought you’d—”

“I’m not running drugs man; someone
planted it or something.  I don’t know what the hell happened. 
Either, I was set up or it’s one of my customers.”  He sighed heavily as
they pulled up in front of Ben’s motel room.  “Anyhow I contacted the DEA
and asked for help.  Don’t know what else to do.  It sure put a dent
in our business.”  He forced a smile.

“Come in the room a minute.” 
Ben opened the car door.

“Nah man, I’d better go. 
Look, give me a call before you leave; my mom wants—”

“I said come in a minute.  I
want to show you something.”

“Have it your way.”  Gonzalo
followed Ben into his room.  Ben waited until the door was shut. 
“Now what is so all fired important for—”

“Look behind Missy’s
picture.”  Ben threw his billfold at Gonzalo and sat in a chair.

“I’ll be damned!  So you
aren’t a trucker after all.  DEA sent you down here?”  Gonzalo
dropped in a chair.

“I volunteered.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t think you’d be
running drugs either, not after how it affected you in Iraq when Rodriguez overdosed.”

“Rodriguez.  He sure opened my
eyes.”

“No one but you is to know about
me.”

“How come you told me?”

“You told me you weren’t running
stuff; I believe you.”

“Okay, so what’s the plan?”

 “Now I’ve got work to
do.  You need to hire me, so I can go the rounds and find out who’s
planting the stuff.”  Ben turned and looked at Gonzalo.  The muscles
in his cheeks rippled.

 “We’re a family company, Charger.” 
Gonzalo raked his fingers through his hair.  “Ain’t no way my pop and
brothers will go for hiring an outsider.”

“Not even an old buddy from Iraq?”

“Nope, we all own equal
shares.  I can’t hire an outsider without approval.  Besides, there’s
no reason with work going so slow.”

Ben strode over to a chair and
dropped on it.  “How about if I buy into the company?”

“Buy into it?”

“Look in the briefcase.”  Ben
pointed.

Gonzalo went to the briefcase and
opened it.  A low whistle came from deep in his chest.

“You said the business is in
trouble.  If someone outside’s planting the stuff, it may be what their
shooting for—you know wanting you to fold.  But if an old buddy happens
along who’s willing to invest—”

“I don’t know.”  Gonzalo shook
his head.  “I guess I could talk to the family and see—”  Conscious
of Ben’s eyes watching his every move, it occurred to him Ben still might not
be sure of his innocence, and flashing all the money might be a test.  Also,
he might have made the scene at the house over Missy because of his job. 
He’d said he recognized Missy right off, didn’t he?  As much as Gonzalo
wanted to trust Charger, he was still not sure of him.  Snapping the
briefcase shut, Gonzalo turned back to Ben.  “Look, you go ahead and make
your run to Harlingen and call me when you’re finished.  In the meantime,
I’ll talk to them.  I don’t think they’ll go for it, but I’ll talk to
them.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

                                                                                     

Two days later Ben called
Gonzalo.  They met in Ben’s motel room in the evening.

“So?”  Ben held the door, as
Gonzalo walked in.

Gonzalo shook his head.  “No
way.  I got negative all around.”

“So much for plan A.”  Ben
shrugged and dropped in a chair.

“And plan B?”

“Hell, I don’t know.  I was
still working on plan A.”  He grinned.  “Okay, no one but your brothers
and father work for the company right?”

“And Tony’s wife, Missy some. 
It’s all family.”

“Okay, so like it or not I have to
consider each as suspect.”  He chewed his thumb.  “And the best way
to find out how it’s planted is to follow a truck being loaded.”  Ben
tiredly ran his hand across the back of his neck and rubbed it.  “I could
try and buy out each one of your brothers, but it would make everyone mad and
take a hell of a long time.  Besides, eventually someone would catch
on.  Who’s your biggest competition?”

“Garcia Trucking.  Why?”

“And the packers you use?’

“Only B & D and Martinez
Shipping will chance us now.  The others backed down after we lost the
second load and truck.

“Did Garcia Trucking think you were
crowding them?”

“Maybe.  He hires out for
drivers where ours are all in the family.  It often allows us to
underbid.  We might have made him feel a little crunch, but hell, it
wasn’t intentional.  Besides, Pop and old man Garcia have known each other
for years and Eduardo’s sweet on Missy.”

“Eduardo?”  Damn, why did
Gonzalo have to mention Missy when he’d managed not to think of her for five
whole minutes.

“Garcia’s son.”

“By sweet on Missy, what do you
mean?”  Ben’s stomach twisted in a knot.  What the hell was wrong
with his insides right now?  “Is it marriage sweet?”

“Who the hell knows?  The
guy’s always at the house.  He asked for her hand, but Missy ignores
him.  Since the—her accident—”  Gonzalo swallowed hard.  “Missy
hasn’t wanted to see any guys.”  He cocked his head toward Ben when he
thought he saw a grin.  “What have you got in your evil mind?”

“Going to the other side maybe.” 
Ben rose and walked to the window.  “The only problem with it is, you need
to be back in the running to put a squeeze on whoever—”  Ben threw his
hands up in the air and shook his head.  “You Mexicans are just like us
Italians.”

“What do you mean?”

“Family oriented.”  He rubbed
the back of his neck.  “Anyone not family’s an outsider; the businesses
are run by families.”  He turned to Gonzalo with a grin and shook his
head.  “Italians are the same way.”

“Oh and you?”

“I’m fighting the system.”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t want to sit in an office
across the hall from my father.”

“Yeah well, the rich can afford to
protest.  It takes all of us to keep food on the—damn!”

“Damn?”

“I forgot Mom wanted me to bring
you to the house.”

“Your mother?  Why?”

Gonzalo grinned.  “She fell
for the little show you put on, says you can’t be all bad.”  Gonzalo
rose.  “Come on I’ll take you over to meet the family.  Maybe we’ll
figure out something in the meantime.”

 

Ben needed to find a way to get
into the company.  It was the only way.  If he was in no position to
do any pushing, he’d never find out who was planting the coke.  He looked
around the Sanchez house.  If a brother was running coke, he must not live
here.  And if a brother was into drugs, he’d be doing it even more during
rough times.  Unless he was running scared.  But this family showed
no signs of prosperity.  On the contrary, the trucks looked like they were
kept running by promises and bailing wire.  He’d bet not all six were
running at one time.  And how a dozen people could live in this small
house amazed him.  His room at home was bigger than the ground
floor.  Someone must have been threatened by their company.  The Garcias? 
Long time family friends?  Ben shook his head.  Maybe he could use
his charm and bring the family around to let him buy into the company. 
All the neighbors were watching.  Ben could feel eyes on him.  Why
did it bother him? 

“See Pop, I told you he’s a
giant.”  Ricardo grinned as Missy’s family peered through the window and
watched Ben and Gonzalo come up the walk.

“Pop, guys, this is Charger, a
friend of mine from Iraq.”  Gonzalo held open the door as Ben stooped and
entered with a smile.  “Charger this is Tony, then Pedro and Luis twins,
Marco there, Paulo and Juan also twins, Jose there and this is the runt
Ricardo.”  Gonzalo turned.  “Where’s Mom and Missy?”

“Went to visit some lady.” 
Ricardo stared at Ben.  “Man how tall are you?”

“Seven feet.”  Ben smiled.

“Did you play basketball?”

“Nope—a little football but no
basketball.”

“What position?”

“Huh?”

“In football, what position did you
play?”

“Ricardo, enough!  Have a seat
Mr.—”  Mr. Sanchez pointed to a chair.

“Spinelli, Ben Spinelli.”

“Yes, right, Mr. Spinelli. 
How come he calls you Charger?”

“It’s just a nickname.”  Ben
glanced around.

“Because he always charged into
things the rest of us were afraid to check out.  Man, he almost got killed
several times and saved my life.”

“Did you kill any people?” 
Ricardo smiled.

“Ricardo—”

Ben smiled.  “Nobody likes
killing or talking about it.”

“Have a beer.”  Gonzalo handed
him a tall bottle his brother brought.

“Thanks.”  Ben glanced around
the room and met the cold stares of seven pairs of eyes.  Only Ricardo
looked the least bit friendly.  Even Mr. Sanchez looked mad about
something.  And he thought maybe he could buy his way into the
company?  No way!  What the hell could he do now?  The house
didn’t need an air conditioner with the frigid messages all those eyes sent
him.  Ben took a second swallow of beer.

“You sure have a neat truck. 
Brand new isn’t it?”

“It was a month ago.  Big bill
too.”

“You don’t look like a
trucker.”  Marco glared.

“Yeah well, I’m new at it.  My
father got on my case to settle down.”  Ben tried to choose his words
carefully.

“Just been playing around the last
four years?”  Mr. Sanchez’s eyebrows rose.

Ben felt his face color.  “No
I’ve tried several things.  Just haven’t found the one I want to do the
rest of my life.”

“Most men work the rest of their
lives, and what they want has nothing to do with it.”  Mr. Sanchez glanced
at his sons.

“You’re right.”  Ben felt his
ears burn as anger rose in his chest.  So they send Missy off to some damn
school she doesn’t want to attend?

“You go to college?”  Paulo
broke into his thoughts.

“Yeah, after I got back from Iraq.”

“Gonzalo’s been going too.”

“Yeah?”  Ben took another
swallow of the now warm beer.  Talk about the third degree.  Silence
was heavy.  “Look.”  His eyes darted around the room.  “Why
don’t you just go on and say whatever’s bothering you.”  He put the bottle
down and rubbed his hands together.

“You mess with Melissa and you’re a
dead man.”  Pedro swiped his hand across the front of his neck with a
slashing motion.

“Nobody gets hurt a sec—”

“Cool it.”  Gonzalo frowned.

“Yeah well—”  Ben rose. 
“Gonzalo, I think I’d better go.”  He clamped his jaw shut until the
muscles rippled in his cheeks and turned to Mr. Sanchez.  “It was nice
meeting you, sir.” Turning he glanced at the others.  “Nice meeting all of
you.”  He turned toward the door.

“Oh my, Mr. Spinelli.  I’m so
glad Gonzalo brought you over.”  Mrs. Sanchez came in with a bright smile.

“Uh—I was just leaving.”

“Oh my, but you can’t. 
Gonzalo get your friend a beer—Poppa offer him a—”  She turned and faced
Missy.  “Oh Melissa look who’s here.  Mr. Spinelli, the nice man
who—”

“Spinelli?”  Missy’s eyes
opened wide.

“Yeah Mis—Melissa, Charger
Spinelli, your pen pal!”

“You’re Charger?”  Missy
swallowed hard.  “Oh my!”  She started shaking all over, turned pale
and raced upstairs.

“What did I do?”  Ben looked
startled.  So did Gonzalo.

“Pen pal?”  Mr. Sanchez
blinked.

“She wrote to us while we were in Iraq—ah
you see—Charger wasn’t getting any mail.  One time he asked if he could
read one of my letters—”

Ben’s face colored.  “He asked
Missy to write to me.”

“Isn’t anyone going to introduce
me?” A young man with a definite glare in his eyes stood by the door.

“Uh—oh, this is Eduardo Garcia,
he’s a friend of the family.”  Mrs. Sanchez smiled.

“I’ve spoken for Melissa.” 
The guy glared at Ben.

“Spoken?”  Ben’s eyes
questioned.  A surge of jealousy streaked through him.  Instantly he
hated the guy and wanted to deck him.

“As soon as her father gives
permission, I’ll marry her.”

“Oh.”  Ben glanced at
Gonzalo.  “Man I’d better—”

“No!”  Mrs. Sanchez stood in
the middle of the room with her hands on her hips.  Angrily she looked
around and tapped a toe.  “One of you bozos get up and get this man a
beer.  He’s your brother’s friend, remember?  And he very nicely
brought Melissa home when she was stranded out on the highway.  Just
because he’s Italian and doesn’t know our customs doesn’t give you the right to
be rude.”  One of the boys rose and headed for the kitchen.  Three
others excused themselves to go out and work on a truck.  “You will stay
for dinner Mr. Spinelli, and I apologize for my sons’ terrible behavior.” 
She glared at those still left.  “Gonzalo, go upstairs and tell Melissa I
want her help in the kitchen.  Mrs. Sanchez turned and stalked off. 
Pedro came out of the kitchen with a beer and handed it to Ben.

BOOK: Missy's Gentle Giant
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