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Authors: Mark Bentsen

Tags: #Rocky Mountains, #Mystery, #Contemporary

Nothing Is Negotiable (3 page)

BOOK: Nothing Is Negotiable
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“That sounds good. But right now, I’d bet you need to eat something. Anything sound good?”

“A bowl of soup would be good. That café down the hill might have some.”

“The Park Café,” Luke said, opening the phone book. After he called, he said, “I ordered you a bowl of vegetable soup and a pizza for me.

“Be careful. You’ve had plenty of wine.”

“I’m fine, and it’s not even a mile from here.”

Twenty minutes later, Luke returned to find Bonnie was wrapped in a blanket, sitting in the middle of the bed, with a big grin on her face. She held a finger up to her lips and pointed at the wall behind her. Luke looked at the wall and saw nothing but a cheap painting of a snow-capped mountain.

“What’s so funny?” he asked. Then he heard a rhythmic banging on the wall. “What’s that?”

“I think it’s the headboard on Jack and Christina’s bed. It started about five minutes after you left.”

Luke listened as the pounding continued, at times accompanied by a series of grunts or an occasional high-pitched squeal.

“Jack and Christina?”

Bonnie nodded with a grin on her face.

“I noticed Jack could hardly keep his hands off of her.” He grinned and stood closer to the wall.

“He didn’t appear to be in the best physical condition. I hope she doesn’t kill him.”

“If she does, he’ll be a happy man when he goes.”

Then, like a locomotive gaining speed, the pounding got faster and louder, until, as if on cue, the picture above their bed slipped sideways and fell off the wall. And the pounding stopped.

 

Chapter 2

When the bed moved, Luke’s eyelids fluttered, and he woke. That was when he realized the pain. It felt like his head was in a vice. Suddenly, the pillow covering his face was pulled away. He squinted as his arm flew across his forehead to shield his eyes.

Bonnie rubbed him on the belly and said, “Come on, time to get up.”

“That wasn’t nice,” he whined.

“It’s almost seven-thirty. I’ve been trying to wake you up for twenty minutes.”

“I feel like shit,” he moaned. He moved his arm just enough to expose one blue, bloodshot eye, and said, “How about you? Do you feel any better?”

“A little. My stomach is still pretty queasy and I’ve gone to the bathroom twice.”

“How’s your thumb?”

“Sore and swollen, but not as bad as I thought it was going to be. It hurts to move it,” she said, holding it up and rotating it slowly. “I doubt it’s broken. Probably just sprained.”

Luke pulled his arm away from his eyes and squinted at her bandage-wrapped hand.

“But some painkillers would be nice,” she added.

“I’ll second the motion for painkillers,” Luke rolled over and slowly sat up on the side of the bed. “I only had three glasses of wine and I feel like hammered shit.”

“I think you had more than three glasses. And you had a few beers before the wine and several more with that pizza. You always have a hangover when you mix beer and wine. It’s your own fault.”

“No it’s not. It’s Robert’s.” He slowly stood up and staggered toward the bathroom.

“Who’s Robert?”

“Robert Mondavi. He’s the one that made that wine,” he said as he stepped into the bathroom and closed the door.

He cranked up the hot water and within a minute steam filled the room. The hot water felt good pounding on his shoulders. Years ago someone told him that sweating would cure a hangover, so he always tried it. But, it never worked. Ten minutes later he walked out of the bathroom and saw Bonnie trying to button her shorts with one hand. Luke stepped over and buttoned them for her.

About that time, her cell phone rang. She answered, talked a minute, then folded it shut.

“Who was that?”

“Rita. She was just checking on me. She also told me how to get to the clinic.”

“Can she get you in?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem, but I’ll just have to wait a while. When I told her I was starving, she said to try dry toast and juice.”

“Okay, let’s get something down at the café and then head out?”

Luke opened the suitcase and rummaged around for something to wear. “I guess we won’t be taking that hike we planned for today.”

“Yes, we will,” Bonnie said firmly. “There’s an easy hike up by Many Glacier. I’m not going to let this stop me from having a good time.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, pulling out a white polo shirt and a pair of brown shorts.

***

They left the mountainous terrain driving north out of St. Mary toward the rolling grasslands of southern Alberta. Half an hour later, they came to a lone brick building at the Canadian border—the Chief Mountain Border Crossing. The two story building had a flat roof with big square windows on the bottom floor and tall windows all around the second floor. As they got closer, the road widened into three lanes, two of the lanes led to detached booths with glass windows on all sides.

The road approaching the building was deserted with no other vehicles in front or behind them. Orange cones blocked the two right lanes so Luke eased the Sebring up to the window of the booth connected to the building. He lowered his window and rolled to a stop as the sliding glass window opened. An agent in a dark brown uniform peered down at them.

“Good morning,” Luke said, trying to smile through his hangover.

The agent didn’t smile or return Luke’s greeting. Instead he reached out and said, “Passport and drivers license please.”

He appeared to be in his mid-thirties, pointed chin with a dark brown moustache that hung over his lip. A black nametag above his pocket said his name was Sharp.

Luke handed him both passports and driver’s licenses. Sharp took them without making eye contact. Twice he looked up, comparing them to their photos. After a silent minute, he asked, “What is your destination?”

Luke answered, “Cardston.”

“Purpose of your trip?”

“We’re going to the doctor.”

“Are you sick?”

“My wife is.”

The agent looked through the car at Bonnie, then back at their passports. “Where did you get this car?”

“We rented it in Calgary.”

“Could I see the rental contract please?”

Luke pulled it from the glove compartment and handed the papers to the man. Again he compared names on all documents, and returned them to Luke.

“Are you going to Calgary from Cardston?”

“No, just to the doctor, then back to Glacier National Park.”

Sharp’s gaze moved to the backseat. “Are you in possession of any fire arms?”

“No.”

Luke checked the rearview mirror and saw no one on the long straight highway behind them. The agent didn’t seem to be in any hurry and to Luke it seemed like the guy was bored and killing time.

“Do you have any pepper or bear spray?”

“No, why? Is that against the law?” Luke chuckled, thinking that was a crazy question to ask two people on their way to the doctor.

The agent ignored Luke’s question. “How much cash do you have in your possession?”

“I don’t know, about four or five hundred, I guess.” Luke was growing curious about all these random questions, but the agent seemed to be trying to think of more questions to ask.

“Is the purpose of your trip to buy drugs?”

“No. Like I said, we’re going to the doctor.”

“Are you in possession of any illegal drugs?”

“No, sir, we are not,” Luke said defensively.

Without looking at them he said, “One moment, please.” The agent slid the window closed and went into the building where Luke saw him walk to the adjacent office and start speaking to another agent. He showed his colleague the passports and licenses, occasionally looking at Bonnie and Luke as he talked. Finally the agent came back, returning their passports and licenses.

“Please pull into the parking lot next to the building,” he said pointing ahead. “Park in space number three. Go up the stairs and into the first door on the left, room 202. An agent will meet you there.”

“Could I ask—” was all Luke could get out before the window was closed and the agent walked away.

“I wonder what in the hell this is all about?”

Bonnie shrugged, equally as puzzled.

They did as they were told and found a long counter dividing room 202. The door behind the counter opened and a hefty female agent, whose nametag read Driver, came in. She looked like a professional wrestler, as tall as Luke, but heavier. Her hair was frizzy blonde with black roots. “I need to see your passports and driver’s licenses,” she said.

“Is there a problem?” Luke asked.

The agent held out her hand and said, “I need to see these documents, please.”

Luke was tired of being treated so rudely. “Did we do something wrong, or do you treat everyone like this?”

Glaring at him, she tilted her head and stuck out her hand. “Sir, do you have the documents I requested?”

Luke held her gaze briefly, then looked at Bonnie, whose expression told him not to mess with her.

Luke handed her their passports and driver’s licenses. She took them and as she turned to leave, said, “Take a seat.”

Luke was in no mood to take a seat. He remained standing, watching the door she left through. After a minute of waiting, he began to pace.

Bonnie tried to soothe him. “Luke, this is probably routine.”

“Oh, bullshit! We haven’t done a damn thing wrong. I told that guy outside you were sick and needed to get to the doctor, for God’s sake.”

After a long five minutes, she returned. “Can you tell me you destination today?”

“I already told the guy out there,” Luke said, pointing toward the booth where the first agent questioned them.

“Well, now you can tell me,” she sneered.

“My-wife-is-sick,” he said, slowly enunciating each syllable. “We are going to the doctor in Cardston.”

“Which doctor are you going to see?”

“We don’t have an appointment. We’re just going to the Cardston Clinic.”

“So, you have no appointment?”

Luke rolled his eyes, and spoke as if he was talking to a child, “That’s what I just said. We don’t have an appointment. My wife didn’t plan on getting sick. It just happened.”

Her eyes narrowed and she continued. “Do you intend to buy prescription drugs to resell in the United States?”

“What in the hell are you talking about? I have no intentions of doing anything like that.”

Driver, obviously annoyed, stiffened her lip, and continued, “How much cash do you have?”

“Like I told that guy out there, about five hundred dollars.”

“American or Canadian?”

“American.”

“If you need more than that, do you have any backup money?”

“What the hell is backup money?”

She sighed. “Sir, just answer the question. Do you have a way to obtain more money?”

“You mean, like credit cards, ATM cards?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, we have credit cards and ATM cards.”

“How many credit cards do you have?”

“Two.”

“Have you ever been charged with a crime?”

“What? Have I... NO! I have
never
been charged with a crime.”

“Do either of you have any outstanding warrants?”

Luke rolled his eyes. “No, we do not have any outstanding warrants.”

“Have you ever gone to court?”

“Years ago, I did.”

“When was the last time?”

Luke rolled his eyes and said, “The last time was the only time. Probably around 1983.”

“And what were you charged with?”

“Speeding.”

She ignored his answer. “Do you plan to buy any drugs while you are in Canada?”

“I already told you. Why can’t you understand?” Luke had never been known for his patience, and he had finally reached his limit. Speaking one word at a time, he repeated, “We-are-going-to-the-doctor. My wife is sick. Is it a fucking crime to do that?”

The agent’s face turned beet red. She rocked back on her heels and took a deep breath and stepped away from the counter, drilling him with her eyes. “Sir, you are not in the United States. You are in Canada and you are required by Canadian law to answer every question we ask you. Do-you-understand?”

“I am answering your questions. But what I don’t understand is why you are treating us like this. We’re tourists, not terrorists, for God’s sake.”

Luke held her stare until she finally said, “I’ll be right back.”

The door slammed as she left the room. Luke turned toward Bonnie and said, “I’ve just about had all the bullshit I can take.”

“Luke, it looks as though they are just about finished. After all, what else can we do? I’m sure they’ll let us leave in a minute.”

He leaned against the windowsill with both arms outstretched and closed his eyes. His head was killing him. Nothing made him feel worse than a wine hangover, and this confrontation had his blood pumping so hard he could feel every heartbeat in his temples.

Bonnie quietly walked up behind him about the time he lost it.

“This is bullshit,” he screamed as he pushed away from the window and spun around.

Not knowing Bonnie was behind him, his arm caught her under the chin and his forearm whacked her across the face. It knocked her back into the row of folding chairs. The chairs overturned and scooted across the floor as Bonnie lost her balance and fell. Trying to break her fall, she put out her hand, her weight fell on her injured thumb, and she screamed out as she met the floor, face first.

Just before they collided, the door behind the counter opened and Driver and Sharp stepped in just in time to see Luke knock Bonnie to the floor.

“Get away from her,” she shouted.

Luke ignored her and knelt down by Bonnie, who had rolled onto her side. Blood oozed from her lip and she held her injured thumb with her other hand. Her face contorted from the pain. Sharp ran up behind Luke, grabbed the back of his shirt, and jerked him away from her.

Luke fell onto his back and rolled over. To Sharp he said, “What the hell are you doing? Let me help her.”

“Stay where you are,” Driver said, positioning herself between Luke and Bonnie with her hand on the handle of her pistol, as if she might draw it if Luke didn’t follow her instructions. To Sharp, she said, “Cuff him.”

Luke stood up as Sharp pulled out his handcuffs and grabbed Luke by the forearm.

“I’m just helping my wife,” Luke said, jerking his arm free. “It was an accident.”

“Coley! Get in here,” the female agent screamed toward the open door behind the counter. Standing between Bonnie and Luke, she held her arm out with her palm toward Luke, indicating he’d better stay where he was.

Luke looked around her to see Bonnie grimacing, tears welling in her eyes.

Another agent in a brown uniform busted into the room. He looked from side to side to assess the situation. He was Luke’s height with bulging biceps and broad shoulders. His dark hair was clipped Marine-short and he had a tightly cropped moustache.

“Help Sharp get cuffs on him,” Driver said, not taking her eyes off Luke.

Coley and Sharp came from opposite sides, grabbed Luke’s arms and pulled them behind him.

“It was just an accident,” Luke said as he felt the handcuffs snap closed on one of his wrists.

He yanked his hand away from Sharp, whose head spun around, hitting Coley hard on the chin.

“Son of a bitch,” Coley said touching his chin where Sharp’s head hit him. Blood oozed from a spot where the skin was now crimson red. Sharp pounced on Luke, pinning him face first against the back wall. Coley moved over to help Sharp get Luke’s hands cuffed behind him.

After they settled down, Driver helped Bonnie into one of the folding chairs.

“Listen to me,” Bonnie said, her voice quivering. She held her throbbing thumb and tried to explain, “He didn’t do anything. We accidently ran into each other, and then I stumbled back and lost my balance. When I fell down I couldn’t catch myself because my thumb was already injured.”

BOOK: Nothing Is Negotiable
11.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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