DISCLAIMER: This fan fiction was inspired by the film "LA Confidential", story and characters wholly and completely owned by others. I've taken some liberties with them, but I do not intend to use them in any malicious way.
"Bisbee: The LA Connection"
by Jackie
Chapter One: Man on a Hill
Bud stood at the top of a hill looking down at the valley below. His shirt lay across a bush, and he pulled off his T-shirt and threw it in the same direction. Any one seeing him would be struck by the power in his frame, and the scars across his heavy muscled torso; he had the body of a warrior who had seen battle, and survived. Bud picked up the fence hole digger and sank it into the adobe earth. It was evidence of his recovery that the ground not only broke, but the digger sank several inches into the rock hard ground. Bud stood on the fence hole digger and it sank slowly to the desired depth. He laughed out loud just for the joy of his body working again, being an invalid sucked. He wondered what the cops in his old precinct would think of his new job. He smiled as he thought of Ed Exley peering at the fence hole digger though his owl glasses. One of the joys of Bud's life was the peace of not really caring what anyone thought. He was content working out doors, being with Lynn, and for the moment not crusading about anything. Bisbee was quiet, the most crime he had seen were kids stealing fruit from the corner vender, and an occasional drunk making a lot of noise, (until he was escorted to the pokey, to sleep it off). Bud did not however believe that the people here were different, it was just a smaller world, a more controlled society. He had never lived in a place like this, and was becoming quite protective of his new life. From the hill he could see the edge of town, not quite far enough to see where Lynn spent her days, but just seeing her street made him feel closer. She was the most important thing in his life; he would do anything for her, literally. They'd almost lost each other, and he feared anything that might come between them. They were so happy sometimes he was scared, tempting fate was risky business, and they had not only tempted fate but had seduced it. Bud's reverie was broken by the sight of a brand new Cadillac driving into town, "I wonder who has that fancy ride", he said to himself. Cars were not fancy in Bisbee; in fact he hadn't seen a brand new car since moving there. He felt his cop's instinct kick in; he stared after the car until it was out of sight. Bud then moved on to the next hole, momentarily ignoring the nagging feeling that something was not right about that car.
Chapter Two: A Cadillac in Bisbee? Carmine Ragnia liked what he saw; Bisbee might be perfect for his needs. The recent loss of a huge shipment of heroin in L.A. had set his superiors on a search for a new and better way to traffic the money making brown tar. L.A. was becoming more difficult with the culling out of the “old school” policemen who were fairly easy to fool, or buy. The new breed like that asshole Exley did not play by the rules. You could only kill so many cops, after a while it got expensive and risky. He had first looked at San Diego, but the problems were multiplied in that town by a cheap little puchuko, named Raphael Garcia, who had a Federali in his pocket and a gang of wetbacks behind him. Trying to move anything over the border or through there would involve killing said Raphael Garcia, and at least one Mexican Federali, too much trouble, too much risk. Carmine didn't mind the killing, in fact with scum from Mexico he rather enjoyed it, but his superior was trying to build a smooth profitable business and murder did not fit into it. Yep, this little town just north of the border would be ideal; the local law enforcement was a joke. The Chief was an old New York cop who had already been put out to pasture once, he was more than likely not too bright, and would tend to look the other way. "If the old guy can still see", He giggled to himself. As for the deputy the term "spas" came to mind, a tall gangly kid who wore his belt two inches above his waist with his gun banging against his skinny upper arm. A real threat. Yep, all and all this trip was turning into a very good one despite the heat and the boredom.
"Wow", he exclaimed. He had just spotted a beautiful tall blond walking down the main street of Bisbee, she was willowy except where it counted, trim ankles (Carmine had a thing for shapely ankles and feet), and style. He was amazed by the whole package, this woman seemed very at home on the streets of Bisbee, but Carmine knew she looked more like a Hollywood Starlet then a pretty girl from a small town. Carmine smiled. He would definitely find spending time in Bisbee worthwhile now that he had found such a pretty distraction. Carmine slowly cruised by the blond admiring the scenery before driving out of town headed for the sleepy town of Phoenix. He'd have good news for the man waiting there.
Lynn had closed her shop for a couple of hours, she had some shopping of her own to do, and mid-day was not a high shopping time in the desert town of Bisbee. The women for the most part did not work, so they tended to venture out before the heat of the day, or in the waning of the afternoon. Lynn felt very good; her life had changed so drastically, and she was truly happy, at first the move and her relationship with Bud were both a source of apprehension. She had had a few bad moments when she returned. Some of the people she had known all her life didn't know how to take the change in her, and had treated her like an outsider. She and Bud also had some bad moments at first; Bud was a proud man who had always had almost unlimited strength. When they first came to Bisbee he had been at the very best partially helpless, at the worst, incapacitated. He had railed against his fate by working harder and harder to regain his strength, spending hours-fighting pain and disappointment. Bud had distanced himself from her until she had in tears one night asked if he still loved her. He had reacted immediately, taking her in his arms and haltingly telling her he loved her, but that he was no good to her the way he was. He couldn't protect her the way he should. He was still upset about a nasty incident on the way to Bisbee in a creepy little town called Banning. He couldn't be with her the way he wanted, (their sex life had been put on hold by the injuries Bud had sustained). He felt basically useless. That was Thank God the beginning of a new closeness. Lynn assured him that he was anything but useless, he had helped her in Banning in the worst condition he’d ever been in, and she’d had sex, good and bad and would rather sit and talk with Bud than be with any other man sexually.
Through a lot of coaxing she’d gotten him to start talking to her about his dreams, and finally when he woke up shaking for the thirtieth night in a row his nightmares. Things had slowly gotten better until finally one morning she had wakened to find him watching her sleep, and realized he was still weak but aroused. Lynn took a risk that morning. She leaned over and kissed him, really kissed him, not an invalid kiss but an I want you kiss. She lazily ran her tongue around his lips, and leaned over him to bite his ear lobe, then trailing kisses down his neck. Bud responded to this treatment by reaching inside her nightgown to cup her breasts. By the time she reached his collarbone and nuzzled his shoulder, (she’d always been in awe of his broad shoulders, loving falling asleep on them, or just watching them move under his shirt), his thumbs had found her nipples. Lynn had almost forgotten how good Bud’s large hands felt on her body, but her body hadn’t; it was responding at a rate that scared Lynn a little. She had to help Bud do this without hurting himself, and her needs were taking over, fast. Bud moved under her pulling her back up, kissing her nipples and smoothing her sides from breasts to thighs. Lynn heard Bud moan and started to pull back, but it wasn’t a moan of pain. His erection had brushed against Lynn’s thigh. Bud moved to cover her, both of them white hot and ready. As Bud turned over he moaned again, this time it was pain, Lynn saw frustration cross his face as he started to pull back. Lynn didn’t let him pull away, but whispered, “You always get the top. Let me try it”. She then kissed him, as she eased him onto his back, she couldn’t resist kissing everything in reach, particularly enjoying his reaction to having his nipples kissed. She put that memory away for future exploration, and mounted him carefully taking all of him in one stroke. Lynn paused to see if Bud was in pain. The look on his face was anything but in pain; he smiled at her and grabbed her ass pulling her closer. That had been the real beginning of their life together. No stolen moments, no Veronica Lake, just Bud and Lynn in their bed making love. Lynn stopped to cross the street at Bisbee’s one light. She noticed a car pass slow, an unfamiliar new car with a man driving it. She got a tingle up her back, and then remembering where she was and laughed. “Lynn this isn’t L.A. so a rich tourist drove through Bisbee, he’s got nothing to do with anything.” Lynn walked by the local housewares shop and looking at some towels stacked on a counter remembered a certain morning not long ago when Bud proved without a doubt he was perfectly capable of being on top. Lynn giggled to herself, even if it was on top of a kitchen counter.
Frank Tisdale sat at his desk in the town police office idly going through the FBI wanted posters. He had to admit that keeping up with the posters was probably a bit eccentric for a man living in Bisbee, Arizona. He had retired and taken this job because he no longer wanted to recognize a face from a poster, he just wanted to live out his life keeping the peace, and enjoying the warm weather. New York was either cold, or humid, he did not miss either. He rose and walked toward the coffeepot by the front door. He kept it there so any of the town people coming in with a complaint or for a visit could pour a cup and have a seat on the bench that ran under the window. Frank liked that; it was one of the few things he carried with him from his New York precinct. His captain had always had a welcome mat out for the neighbors, that was what he called the people they were in charge of protecting, neighbors. He poured some coffee and looked out the window. He saw Lynn Bracken coming down the street and wondered why she looked so happy today. He had met her a couple of months back and been struck by a sadness behind her smile. He had guessed what had caused at least part of the sadness, when he saw her several times with a big man who didn’t look well. Frank frowned, that man, I should really find out something about him, he had a way of moving, and even though injured there was something that made Frank look at him twice. He’d heard that Lynn had been in Los Angeles and had come back a few months back with a man. No one knew what their relationship was, and he’d heard the man called Bud, and on occasion Mr. White. Frank turned from the window, too late to see the shiny new Cadillac, driven by a man with a face on a poster. Frank decided since it was a quiet day, maybe he’d put in a call to the L.A. police department and make sure that Bud White wasn’t a future problem. He just had a feeling that this was not an average run of the mill Joe.
Chapter Three: Rats Vincent Lamotte sat up and lit a cigarette; the women in the bed next to him rolled over showing perfect breasts above a tiny waist. She was exactly what Vincent liked in his bed and on his arm. She was ornamental, reasonably loyal, and not very bright. Yeah, Gloria was just about perfect. He’d picked her up in L.A., he liked pros, they knew what was expected and always produced.
Thinking of L.A. was a mistake however, he stopped thinking about Gloria, and started thinking about Cohen, and all that lost heroin. Carmine had best find what I’m looking for, he thought, or the old man is not going to be happy. He shivered thinking about what happened to people who made the old man unhappy. Failure was not an option, if he failed he wouldn’t need Gloria anymore, he’d have no way to enjoy her, If he lived. Mickey had told him that he thought that there was something up with the police department in L.A. a bunch of his men had been killed or disappeared, he had money and drugs go missing, and every time he tried to reestablish control over prostitution or the numbers something always happened to prevent it. When Vincent got there to check it out, the town, (even though it had taken place several months prior), was still in an up-roar about some gang fight at a motel. Vincent was confused about that because try as he might no gang involvement made any sense. No one, who was anyone, knew what the fight was about, or who was involved. There was something very odd going on there, even Johnny Stompinado didn’t have a clue. He said, he’d been rousted by some detectives, the first a real son of a bitch, he’d bragged, “I didn’t give that fucking guy nothing.” But Vincent had seen the fear in his eyes. Johnny had said, that the funny thing was the cop had only asked questions about an ex-cop named Meeks who wasn't even connected to them or their business. Later, that same night two more detectives had come to see Johnny. Again, Johnny insisted that he had told them nothing , but that they were on to something, because within 48 hours one of them was dead and the other a hero at the Victory Motel. Johnny said that since that time L.A. police had been all over the place, most of them refusing bribes, and really being a pain in the ass. That was when Vincent had procured Gloria’s services and left town, the atmosphere in L.A. was not healthy. Nope, Vincent smelled something rotten, and it was blowing east out of L.A. He wondered in passing who the SOB was and what he had done to scare Johnny. Oh well, hopefully he had died at the Victory Motel, too. Gloria rolled over, and smiled, Vincent crawled back in bed, he deserved some diversion. Hell, he'd started the day thinking long thoughts about confusing subjects in a rat-shit town called Phoenix. What kind of fucking name was that?
Carmine was about an hour out of Bisbee, he was busily planning how the town could be used with the least expense, and the most speed. Leaving LA unsupplied was an invitation to one of the other families. Carmine did not plan on explaining to Vincent why some one else was selling heroin in their territory. Besides the sooner he was back in Bisbee, the sooner he could look up that blond babe. Living in that little dump of a town, she'd be ready to meet a good-looking man from the big city. He could already taste her lips, as well as other things. Yeah, if he was lucky the old man would be real pleased with him, and the blond would be sharing his bed. Bisbee was gonna' be great.
Chapter Four: The Snake Lynn locked the front door of her shop, looking at the window on her way out she was satisfied with the new dresses and the small white hats she had arranged. She loved having the store, and in only a few months it was obvious the women of Bisbee loved her store too. Lynn started her car and drove quickly toward the south end of town. She actually enjoyed working, but nothing gave her more joy then going home to Bud. Lynn drove down the gravel road to their little house. They had picked the house for its' isolation as well as the view. There was nothing for about a mile in any direction, and the house up the road had been abandoned for about a year. Lynn climbed out of the car and taking the groceries from the back seat started up the steps to the kitchen door. Lynn had lived in L.A, long enough to lose some of the childhood learned habits of the desert, she had forgotten to watch out for snakes; she fortunately had not forgotten the sound a rattlesnake makes, or what to do when you hear one; freeze. Lynn did exactly that, she froze standing on the bottom step holding a grocery bag in the 100 degree heat, not a good situation. Lying on the dirt next to the bottom step was a rattlesnake sunning himself. Lynn glanced down at the snake that had slowly stopped rattling and had half uncoiled. She knew that the snake was not agitated at the moment, and that it would probably leave. The question was when. The wait began. Lynn idly thought of dropping the groceries on the snake, but figured if she missed that was it. She stood in the sun, and realized her arms were starting to cramp from the bag. She glanced down hoping the snake was gone, no such luck, and it looked funny, kind of shimmery. Lynn bit her lip hard she realized that standing still in the sun was starting to make her dizzy. Oh, man I'm going to pass out, get bit and Bud will find me dead covered in eggs, and milk, Lynn giggled to herself, what a picture, She sobered fast thinking to herself yeah, but that's really what is going to happen.
Bud came down the hill, heading for the kitchen. He always took off his boots outside so he didn't track dirt all over the kitchen floor. He remembered that one of their first fights had been caused by mud tracked on her kitchen floor. He knew that day that Lynn felt he was recovered, she had laid into him, and then had started to laugh at the stunned look on his face. She said he wasn't housebroken yet. Bud rounded the corner of the house, and saw Lynn on the side porch, he started to call out to her but something stopped him. The hair on the back of his neck rose as he surveyed the area, there was a wrongness about Lynn, but what? Then he saw what was at her feet. She saw him and without thinking turned her head. The snake saw the movement and coiled rattling. Bud drew a gun from the back of his pants and fired in one smooth motion. The snake’s head snapped off, Lynn dropped the groceries and grabbed the rail. Bud ran to her and gathered her up in his arms. “Did you get bit?” he asked. Lynn shook her head. Bud scooped her up and carried her through the kitchen door and into the bedroom. Lynn lay on the bed shaking; she’d had too much snake, sun, and shock. Bud got a cool cloth and stroked her face with it murmuring gently as though she was a child awakened from a nightmare. Lynn clung to his hand and drifted off to sleep. Bud watched her for a while and then went to clean up the broken eggs, the milk bottle, and one very dead snake.
Lynn woke to a dark room, and followed the light to the kitchen. Bud was making coffee with his back turned toward her. Lynn hadn’t put on shoes, her step almost soundless on the hard wood floors. When she stepped into the kitchen Bud whirled around and for just a second she saw, with complete clarity what many suspects had seen “Sgt. Bud White” on alert, clear green eyes cold and wary, body tensed to spring, a power held check by the thinnest wire. He then relaxed, “Hey babe, you startled me.” Lynn said “Sorry”, and walked over to the cupboard. She thought, my god that is what the men at the hospital had meant. She remembered in the days following the Victory Motel officers coming to the hospital. At the time she was too tired to do much more than acknowledge their presence. But now some of what they had said came back to her. Several of them had said the same thing, “Don’t worry Bud is the toughest man on the force.” In that split second in the kitchen she had seen what they meant. Lynn was suddenly shaking again. Her gentle, tan, relaxed Bud, was also Sgt. Bud White, one inch below the surface, only a split second away. It made her feel safe, and nervous, and strangely excited. Lynn shook her head, and walked over to Bud, and sliding her arms around his waist just leaned on him. She loved him too much to worry about what he had been or might be again; she’d just love him. But a nagging fear remained that maybe their life wouldn’t always be enough for him. All that power and intensity had to go somewhere. Bud smiled at her “Are you OK”. Lynn smiled back and hugging him tighter said, “I am now.”
Chapter Five: Morning in Four Parts Frank Tisdale got to the police office early; he wanted to call Los Angeles before his day got busy. He had tried to reach an old friend at the department the afternoon before, but his friend hadn’t been on duty. The watch commander had told him to try back in the morning. Frank had almost given up the idea of running Bud White, but he hadn’t talked to Sgt. Bill “Sully” Sullivan in over a year, so what the heck. Frank got Sully immediately; his old friend was now a desk jockey being only months away from retirement. He was not exactly the slender lad Frank had partnered with 20 years ago. Sully was not really obese but his big frame showed his propensity for Irish whiskey and butter-smothered baked potatoes. Since reaching his mid-fifties, he was no longer as active or fit so the impression he gave was large but a little soft. Anyone looking in his eyes, however, would wonder; there was still a hint of steel staring out of his good natured teddy bear face, maybe not so soft after all. “Sully how are you doing”, Frank said. Sully answered, “Better than you”. They both laughed. That greeting and response was 20 years old and still funny to both of them. They passed pleasantries for a few minutes then Frank told Sully why he had called. “Could you run some one for me? I’ve got a man in town who seems OK, but there’s just something about him. He’s a white male about 35, Brown hair, light eyes, about 6 feet 200 pounds, his last name is White. I don’t know what his real first name is but he goes by Bud. Sully sputtered, “Does this man have a limp, or a scar on his cheek.” Tisdale acknowledged that he had come to town pretty banged up. “We don’t need to run him. He’s a former Homicide Sgt., Wendell White is his name.” Sully went on to tell Frank what he knew of Wendell “Bud” White, including the confidential version of the Victory Motel fight. Frank promised to come out fishing in the summer and hung up. He got up and poured a cup of coffee, Sully had told him a hell of a story. Frank believed everything Sully had said, he had always been extremely honest, and not prone to gossip, but Frank was still amazed. He hadn't heard anything like this since the five family wars in NY and he wished he hadn’t heard the part about White and the beautiful hooker. Lynn Bracken had come home with a hell of a secret. Well, Frank wasn’t going to tell anyone, she and her man had been through enough. Besides he had a feeling that anyone who caused Lynn any hurt might meet the business end of Sgt. Wendell “Bud” White. Not a pleasant thought. According to Sully, not pleasant at all.
Bud woke suddenly; he’d been dreaming, but not the gut wrenching kind of dreams he had for months just a strange dream that left him a little on edge. He rolled over gently pulling Lynn close not wanting to wake her, just wanting to feel her warm, and in his arms. Lynn stirred and opened her eyes, "Hi, you’re up early", shifting her hip she laughed, "In more ways then one". She rolled over and buried her head in Bud's chest, she loved the way he smelled, he always smelled good even after spending the day outdoors, their was just something musky, masculine, and very sexy about his scent. She giggled, what would Bud think, if he could read my mind. Bud pulled her face up for a kiss, "What you laughing about"? Lynn just shook her head and kissed him back. She enjoyed kissing his mouth so much she started branching out, his chin, his neck, his chest, she paused at his flat nipples making him groan in pleasure before she moved on lower to his belly button down the path of golden hair to his cock. Lynn had tasted Bud a few times but always he pulled her up after only a couple of minutes saying he liked to look at her and kiss her while making love and today was no exception. Bud pulled her up turned her to her back and entered her slowly, until he was almost all the way in and then retreated to do it again, after about four strokes, their mutual excitement putting a stop to the teasing. Bud groaned as Lynn ran her hands over his buttocks and pulled them gently apart causing him to sink deeper, and deeper until he hit bottom. Her control only lasted one stroke, what little of it she had went, and fast, when Bud buried his face in her hair, murmuring her name. They continued on out of control, only one end in sight. They got there together. Lynn had to admit she liked kissing him and God knows looking at him when they made love. But still, one of these days she planned on making love to him, in a way she’d started and he had stopped, it was a gift she had resisted giving any man, and one she wanted to give him. Paget had not understood her resistance, but had finally tailored her clientele around it; it was the one thing she had refused to do.
Carmine and Vincent were both up and getting ready to call the old man in New York. Vincent got ready to dial, and said. "Carmine I hope you really know what you're doing. If you fuck this up, we're both dead." Carmine flinched, "Vincent, trust me it's perfect, law enforcement is a joke, I found a house on an almost deserted road. We can break the stuff down into small packages to deliver directly to our sellers in L.A. We can't lose much that way and our risk in and out will be limited coming from the East instead of the South. The border isn’t even guarded. It's seriously perfect." The old man answered immediately, and listened to the whole set-up. He approved it. Vincent said a little prayer to all the saints. He really was not ready to die. He wondered in passing if he should set up an escape plan. Tomorrow the men would arrive, the first delivery would be picked up the day after, he hoped at least one of the saints was listening. One more night to enjoy Gloria in peace, then it began. He just wished he were in N.Y, even the humidity sounded good.
Sgt. Sullivan did not know why he was going to see the Lieutenant in the detective bureau, but a note had been left on his desk requesting an appearance. Lt. Exley was already in when he arrived; he greeted Sully and asked him to sit down. Exley didn't waste time; he jumped right in, "I hear you were asked about Bud White yesterday. Who wanted to know about him, and what did they want to know?" Sully was amazed, how in the world did Exley know about his conversation, and why would he care? "Well?" Exley said leaning forward at his desk. Sully explained. Exley sat back for a moment. "I want to know if there is any trouble in Bisbee. If you hear about a problem, you come to me immediately." Sully didn't particularly like this young man's attitude, and his retirement was in the bag so he decided what the hell and said, "Why would you care about Bisbee?" Exley stared at him through his glasses, "I don't, but I owe Bud White. I want to be there if he needs help." Sully, shrugged, "As far as I know your man just made Frank Tisdale a little nervous. If I hear any different though I will get with you." Sully went back to his office shaking his head, strange bedfellows those two. He’d met White on many occasions and knew him to be dangerous, strong, violent, but also honest and likeable. Ed Exley had never struck him as anything but a brass lackey with a broomstick up his ass, until now, he had just seen something more behind the eyes, hiding.
Chapter Six: The Arrival Bud stood in the front of his house. It was a beautiful morning, still cool but with a hint of the heat to come. Lynn had just left for the store, and Bud watched her car turn off the gravel road onto the hi-way. He started to turn toward the house when another car caught his attention. "I'll be damned", he said under his breath, the Cadillac he had seen a couple of days before was roaring up the gravel road headed past his house to, to where? There was nothing past he and Lynn's except an old abandoned house, and mine. He knew that the driver was probably just lost, but he'd survived too many years by not trusting "probably". Maybe he'd watch for a few minutes and see whether that car came back out of the box canyon, dead end road. Bud settled down on the porch unconsciously sitting slightly forward, the gun in the back of his pants always dug in when he leaned against something hard. Bud knew that aside from the snakes he had killed on the hill and the one that had almost got Lynn, he would probably never use a gun again. Somehow he just couldn't go unarmed, when he did, he felt naked, vulnerable, and stupid. Lynn had never questioned him on the habit, and somehow he knew she felt safer as well. No Cadillac. Bud tried to go about his business but there was something wrong with that car, he knew it. He finally decided to follow the car into the canyon a ways, maybe they were in trouble, or maybe the three men in the car were trouble. Either way he had to check it out. Lynn spent time alone in the house; he just didn't like the idea of strangers in their backyard, so to speak. Bud headed for his car, then turned back to the shed behind the house and opened a footlocker inside the door. The shotgun, two 38's and a large collection of ammunition had been cleared from the trunk of his car when they had packed to move. He picked up the shotgun and some shells and headed back toward his car. Bud had learned the hard way that people were not always trustworthy, and that prepared for the worst was better. You could always leave a weapon in the holster, but if you didn't have one you might get tied to a radiator for 3 days; never again. Bud drove up the canyon, slow, watching for the car. When he reached the rise above the house, located at the end of the road, he parked. His cop instincts had been getting stronger and stronger with each mile in which he did not find that car. He didn't want to be seen, so he walked up the rise to have a look at the house, and he had to believe, the men in the Cadillac. Bud was doubly glad he had walked, when he saw what was going on in front of the house. The three men were unloading supplies of a sort, among the boxes, he noticed a set of scales like the ones used in a pharmacy. All three men were dressed in city clothes, and Bud recognized a general type. They all reminded him of Johnny Stompinado. Bud was close enough to see the New York license plates on the car, repeated them to himself a couple times, and left the way he had come. Bud decided to call on the Chief of Police; he knew there was a reason his instincts had been aroused, and he had been a cop too long to ignore them.
The three men at the house were still discussing the blond they had seen turn onto the main road as they came in. Carmine had said that there wouldn't be any women, or entertainment of any kind to be found in Bisbee. Well, if Carmine had seen that blond he might change his mind. The three men had already made two mistakes. They hadn't noticed Bud when they drove by the house, and they hadn't seen him watching them from the hill. They were oblivious to any danger to their position. Just three young connected gentlemen discussing a woman on a warm summer morning.
Bud walked into the police station in Bisbee; he hadn't had occasion to meet the Chief. Bud was not nervous, after all he'd spent his adult life in one police station or another. He was however apprehensive about his reception, and how much credence his information would warrant in an unfamiliar town with a man he didn't know. Then again, Bud figured that cops were cops and this was the place to start. Frank Tisdale walked out from the back room, and saw Bud standing by the door. He stopped for a second sizing up the younger man. Big, broad shouldered, intense eyes clear and direct, this was definitely the man Sully knew, now that Frank had seen him up close he could see “cop” written all over him. Bud turned toward him and walked over to the desk, Frank noticed that there no longer any evidence of a limp or other physical limitation. Bud, stuck out his right hand, "I'm Bud White, I live out on the old River Road in the old Bender place, there is something going on out there." Frank reached out noticing the size and strength of the hand that shook his, "What sort of something". "I saw a strange car on the road this morning with three men in it, and they weren't locals," replied Bud. The Chief said, "Would this be a big shiny Cadillac?" Bud nodded. "I followed that car into the box canyon north of my house. Those men were unloading supplies into the abandoned house. I saw some guns, and a set of pharmacy scales. I don't think they are out there to hunt, camp, or bird watch." Frank Tisdale crossed back to his desk, "That does seem a little out of the ordinary. Maybe I better go on out there and find out what's what." Bud didn't like the idea but had no jurisdiction over how this man did his job. "Before you go out there, I got the license number, maybe you want to check it out." Bud gave him the number, and left. He figured to watch the chief and see how he handled this situation. After all Bud was just a concerned citizen, nothing more, but a very concerned citizen none the less. Bud did not want to alarm Lynn, but he knew that you just couldn't protect people, if they didn't know they were in danger. Something told him everyone in Bisbee could be in danger, soon.
Frank checked the schedule that Sully had given him over the phone and saw he was on duty. Frank contemplated just going out to River Road, but he had a feeling that Bud White frowned on that idea. There was something in those cool green eyes when he had mentioned it. Bud White might not be a cop anymore but Sully had indicated that the man seemed to sniff out danger like a bloodhound. It was a stupid man who closed his eyes to caution. He picked up the phone and for the second time in two days made a call to L.A.
Sully hung up from talking to Frank. They had been on the phone quite a while, but he had learned about the Cadillac, and its' owner. Sully tried to decide the best course of action, the Cadillac did not directly impact Bud White but the situation in Bisbee was anything but normal. He got up and crossed the building headed for Lt. Exley’s office. He'd let him decide what was pertinent. Ed was talking with two detectives when the Sgt. arrived outside his door. Exley motioned him into the office and to the Sargent's amazement dismissed the other two officers, closing the door. "Good afternoon Sully," Exley said motioning to a chair. Sully remembered that the Lt. wasn't a big one for pleasantries or wasting time, so he jumped right in, "Lt. Exley, I don't know if any of this means anything but I just talked with my friend in Bisbee again. Bud went to see him this morning about some guys hanging around out there. He gave Frank a license, from New York. I ran the license; the car is registered to a Virginia Ragnia. The guy I talked to had, by chance, worked on a case involving a cheap little hood named Carmine Ragnia; this Virginia is his sister. Carmine is rumored to be connected to one of the families, but my guy wasn't sure which one. Frank and I just can’t figure why Ragnia would be in Bisbee". Lt. Exley pushed his glasses back over his ears, and fixed his direct gaze on Sully. "That does seem a little odd. I appreciate you coming to me with this, if I need anything else I'll let you know." Sully got up, relieved to be leaving, he was stopped at the door by the Lt. "Sgt. Sullivan, how good is Tisdale, not as a man, as a cop?" Sully thought for a moment, "Tisdale saved my life years ago in a nasty fight on the docks; he used to be a dirty in-fighter and a decent shot, but he is six, no seven years older than me, which makes him 59. I know I've slowed down. Does that answer your question?" Lt. Exley nodded, but did not look particularly satisfied. "One more question, would Tisdale accept help, more importantly would he ask for it if he needed it?" Sully looked uncomfortable, "He was my partner and I'd go to the mat for him, but when his wife died he wouldn't accept help or comfort from anyone. He has always been a loner and Irish stubborn" He shook his head, "I just don't know." Lt. Exley nodded dismissal and turned back to his desk. Ed Exley's strongest suit was thought, and the more he thought about what he had just heard the less he liked it. The pieces were starting to form a puzzle that he not only didn't like, but also wasn't going to be able to ignore. Exley pondered, I've never been to Arizona, and this might be an opportune time. If I just happen to run into Bud and Lynn, or better yet Carmine Ragnia, oh well. Coincidence can sometimes be helped along. He reached for the phone hoping that the Captain wouldn't ask a lot of questions when he said he had to leave for a few days. Exley, smiled to himself, I could always claim a family emergency, let the Captain figure that one out. He wondered in passing what the Captain would think; if he knew that was exactly what Exley felt it was.
Chapter Seven: Preparations Bud walked into Lynn’s shop. He didn’t often enter the small neat shop full of women’s clothes and accessories. He always felt big and clumsy in there. He thought for a moment, yeah his mom used to say “Like a bull in a china closet.” Bud had shot up during the summer of his twelfth year and suddenly it had seemed like everything he touched got broken, knocked over, or crashed into. His Mom must have said that bull thing fifty times that summer. Bud stopped in his tracks, this was the first time he had thought of his Mother without feeling sad or angry in more years than he could count. He had managed to remember something that was not connected to her murder. Lynn, somehow she was the key, loving her had freed him of part of that old anguish and rage. Lynn chose that moment to walk out of the hall by the dressing room. She almost bumped into Bud, than smiled, “What can I do for you today”? Bud stepped in close and kissed her, wrapping his hands around her waist and lifting her toward him. “I’ll take about twenty of those, unwrapped”. Lynn smiled up at him and then blushed, two of her customers had just exited the dressing room in time for quite a show. They were grinning at each other and pretending to avert their eyes. Bud saw Lynn’s face and groaned, “Sorry” he said under his breath. “I didn’t know anyone was here”. Bud than turned and nodded politely toward the ladies. “Lynn, I need to talk with you for a few minutes, can you meet me out front when you’re done with your business?” Lynn nodded and turned back to the almost elderly Baker sisters. She was thankful it hadn’t been some of her other customers. The Baker sisters had been quite the scandal when they eloped together for a double wedding the summer they turned 14 and 15. She didn’t think they would be too ready to throw stones or gossip. She did figure they would tease her and have plenty to say about Bud. The older of the two sisters watched Bud all the way out the door, “Who is that cool drink of water? I’d heard you had a crippled friend with you, that sure can’t be him.” Lynn explained that Bud had been badly hurt but had recovered. The younger of the sisters looked at her close and said “That’s what’s different about you Lynn Bracken, you’re in love”. She smiled at her sister who nodded in agreement. She then turned back toward Lynn “When the town gets a good look at him, the talk will start. Don’t you pay them any mind. You don’t let anybody dictate to you about your business, you just do what’s right for you. Sister and I have done that for 40 years, and it’s worked out great.” The older sister picked up her purse, “Lynn, I’ll come back and try on that yellow dress, you run along to your young man.” The two sisters went out the door. Bud was leaning on the window frame waiting; the sisters stopped in front of him. They chorused, “You be good to her”. Bud just nodded, and smiled. When Lynn got outside he took one look at her and started to giggle, “Oh baby, I’m sorry, I thought those two old girls were going to drop their drawers.” Lynn could see he was trying to stop laughing, but something about the situation had amused him and she had the rare treat of listening to him really laugh. Lynn poked him in the stomach, which only made him laugh harder. She drug him back into the shop, trying to look stern. Bud saw her face and said “Sorry” and then started laughing again. Lynn kissed him and led him back to the office. Bud smiled at her, and realized he had almost forgotten the serious thing he had come to tell her. Damn, he just wanted their life to stay uncomplicated, but that wasn’t going to happen, not this week anyway. He sat down in the office pulling Lynn into a chair facing him and told her what he knew and some of what he suspected.
Frank Tisdale hung up the phone, wishing that Bud White hadn’t been right. He had sent his one policeman to pick up his mother at the hospital in Phoenix. He was not expected back until day after tomorrow, not that the kid would be any help with this. Frank doubted that he could leave things as they were on the River Road until then, he realized that once these kind of men got a foothold in a place it was near impossible to dislodge them. They just slowly turned a place into a cesspool. For the first time he regretted being the only law enforcement officer in 75 miles. He was intellectually capable of handling the problem; he knew what was going on, and what had to be done. He just didn’t have the strength or the manpower he was going to need to do it. He could ask for assistance from the state police, however he knew they were mostly tied up with a problem at Hoover Dam. Frank figured he had until morning to figure out the best course of action. He also realized that not much was going to change by morning, unless he could entice Bud White out of retirement. He knew he had been sub-consciously mulling that idea in his head since hanging up the phone. But just couldn’t figure why a man who had just recovered from a near fatal gun battle would sign on for what could be another. Frank carefully locked his front door pulled the blinds and crossed to a closet he had always kept locked. Frank took the only key from his pocket and unlocked the door. The hinges creaked and the doorknob was hard to turn, this closet had been locked since Frank had taken over the office. He stepped into the closet, and pulled out a heavy trunk and a long narrow footlocker. He hoped that the weapons he had so carefully packed would be clean and ready to use on inspection. He wanted to make sure he was ready, before he went out to see the ex-cop on River Road. Something in the man's eyes made him hopeful that the visit would not be fruitless.
Carmine dropped Vincent off just north of the border, the old man would not allow Vincent to go into Mexico, nor would he allow any of the soldiers under Carmine to handle the pick up of the heroin. He felt that either was too high a risk. So, Vincent would wait for Carmine, and Carmine would make the lonely trip into Mexico. They figured to be in Bisbee by mid day tomorrow. Carmine was to spend a few hours in Mexico, and then travel to the meet site, pick up the drugs, and return by early morning. They had three men in Bisbee, three more waiting at a roadside motel between there and the border. The three at the motel would wait and escort Vince and Carmine the rest of the way with the drugs. Carmine was excited but not frightened, he felt vindicated, he had planned a perfect campaign and was already basking in the glory. Vincent on the other hand had contemplated faking an appendicitis attack to distance himself from the whole thing. He just didn't feel confident about the outcome. His grandmother was a gypsy and Vincent had been plagued or blessed (depending on who you talked to), with an almost psychic sense of disaster. As much as Vincent tried to ignore it the crystal ball he carried around in his head was flashing doom in big red letters. Appendicitis was sounding better and better, maybe in the Bahamas.
Ed Exley packed quickly, but he did not forget to pack an extra .38, a deer rifle his father had left him and an inordinately large quantity of ammunition. He also picked up something the lab boys had been working on; they called it a smoke bomb, and claimed that it was the wave of the future. He didn't know about that, but he just had a feeling that having too much was better than not enough. Never in the three hours since he had told the Captain he was going out of town had he felt like he was overreacting or behaving rashly. He just knew he should be in Bisbee. Ed smiled to himself and thought this is totally out of character, I guess I am becoming impulsive. Ed started as his front door bell rang. He picked up his duty revolver and went to answer the door. Since Jack's murder and the Victory he had never felt that he was really safe anywhere, and no longer went unarmed even in his own house. Sgt. Sullivan stood on his porch in civilian clothes carrying a rifle case and a bulging backpack. Ed motioned him in. Sully saw the baggage on the floor by the couch. "You're going, I knew it. Well I'm going too." Sully said looking from the baggage to Exley. Exley looked at him for a moment, "How did you know"? Sully laughed, "I've been a cop for twenty-four years, everything I learned about Bisbee made me uncomfortable I probably would have shaken off the feeling, but I could see you were having the same ones. Frank was a good partner that I still owe, and a good friend I don't want to lose. I think he is in over his head." Exley replied, "Yes, and I have a (he paused), friend who will never stand by." Sully nodded, "Bud White, no I can’t see him staying out of it." Sully led the Lt. out to his transportation, a reconditioned army jeep. “I thought this might be handy in the desert terrain.” Lt. Exley nodded. When the jeep was loaded they drove out, hoping to make record time to Bisbee.
Lynn stood in the kitchen trying not to worry. She knew that Bud had only told her about the Cadillac and the men because he wanted her to be forewarned. She just didn’t like the look in Bud’s eyes and the new cautious way he moved around their property. If she could, she’d lock him in their bedroom, and keep him safe. Lynn smiled, oh yeah containing Bud; you might as well try to harness the wind. She couldn’t even keep him down when moving had been torture. Bud walked into the kitchen, pulled a soda from the refrigerator and walked over to the sink where Lynn was washing dishes. He slid his arms around her waist; she just leaned back against him looking at the sun set over the low purple hued mountains. Lynn inexplicably felt close to tears, but she knew that tears weren’t going to help, in fact they always upset Bud. He just couldn’t handle tears. And Lynn just couldn’t handle Bud being upset, so she swallowed hard and smiled to herself, to see if she could. Bud stiffened and moved away, a car was coming up the driveway. Bud stepped into the shadow of the kitchen porch and moved toward the front of the house, and the car. Lynn went to the front window, she needed to see what was coming, she also hoped that she would draw attention away from Bud coming through the shadows to the side of the car. The Chief stopped the car and was surprised to see Bud moving out of the shadows right hand hanging down holding a 38. Bud saw who it was and slowly returned the gun to its' holster. Frank got out of the car, contemplating the reception he had just received and a little heartened to know that Bud was on the alert, and already aware there was a problem. This might not be as hard as anticipated, he thought, and then he glanced up and saw Lynn in the window, or maybe harder. "Mr. White", Frank started. Bud interrupted "Bud". Frank started again, "Bud, I'd like to talk with you for a few minutes." Bud motioned him to come in the house. Frank looked at Lynn in the window again. "We might want to talk out here". Bud stood quiet for a minute, "No, I think whatever you have to say Lynn better hear."
Vincent had his third whiskey, and a greasy burger. He figured it was going to be a long night. Carmine had gone across the border, and Vincent could only wait until he came back in the early hours of the morning. Vincent sipped on his whiskey, and did not look forward to the long night. He finally headed back to the motel, sleep was not a probability, but he couldn't deal with one more minute in the bar filled with cowboys, truck drivers, and the tinny jukebox blasting hillbilly music.
Sully dozed while Ed drove. They had traded halfway between Bakersfield and the Ridgecrest area of the Porterville Mountains. There was something about the light, or maybe the lack of anything man made that caused Ed to feel very isolated, even with Sully only two feet away. He was a definite city boy and all this space made him feel small. He had felt the same way when his Father had died, and to a lesser extent after the events at the Victory. He started thinking about the Victory Motel, something he had tried not to do. He'd stopped dreaming about it, and hadn't seen Dudley Smith's dead face for a while. His thoughts tonight were different, for the first time he used some of the events of that night as a learning experience. He had experienced his tests under fire, first at Roland Navarettes', and later the Victory Motel, and by all accounts had acquainted himself well. He was able for the first time to put together the violence, and the fear, with a measure of commonsense. His education told him that the events at the Victory were as they were because they were trapped into it. Neither he nor Bud had gone to the Victory to kill a dozen fellow officers, be they good or bad. Ed now looked at the way he and Bud could have changed the outcome of the Victory motel had they known ahead of time. This time they would be in a different position, and Ed was going to make damn sure that the outcome was safer and far more effective. He had several hours in this dark lonely isolated world to think out some strategy. He'd read about scores of battles from the Romans to the Nazis, and the one thing he'd learned was sometimes brains could save you when a gun couldn't. He smiled to himself, of course he'd bet on Bud with a shotgun over his brain, every time. Maybe with Bud's skill and his brain no one would get hurt this time. He just didn't think he could watch Bud get hurt again or face Lynn after it happened, this time he would protect Bud, not vice versa. By the time Sully woke up he had a pretty good plan, contingent on the terrain and the cooperation of his fellows. Ed decided to run his plan by Sully, who listened to the whole thing without comment. Sully nodded his head smiling, “You just keep thinking, Ed. You seem real good at it.” He took a pen light out of his jacket and holding it in his mouth started to break down his service revolver. Checking the barrel, the firing pin, and the grips, shining the light down the barrel. The whole time Sully was humming and seemed happy as a clam. Ed looked over at him and smiled to himself, I picked a hell of a profession. Jeez Dad, look what you got me into.
Frank sat on a chair across from Bud and Lynn. “Bud, I got to tell you I know who you are, and what happened to you.” He glanced over at Lynn. “I also know about Lynn”. Bud started and Frank held up his hand. “No, Bud I haven’t told anyone, and don’t plan on it”. Bud relaxed a little, reaching out to take Lynn’s hand. “When you came to me yesterday, I already knew about you and Lynn, I had called an old friend at L.A.P.D. Bill Sullivan.” Bud nodded, “I know Sully. You were checking me out?” Frank simple said. “Yes” He didn’t try to avoid the question, or explain; he had a strong feeling that Bud already knew why. “The point is those three men up the canyon are no good. The car belongs to a wise guy from NY named Carmine Ragnia. He is connected, and has a rather colorful record. The fact that he is in town, or his men are in town doesn’t bode well. I’d say from the scales that you saw, they plan on cutting down and distributing drugs from Bisbee. I can’t stand by and let that happen.” He paused for a moment sipping the coffee Lynn had brought him. Bud didn’t say anything, but didn’t seem surprised by anything Frank had said. Frank set his coffee down and continued. “ I could wait and try to contact the FBI or state police, but I think that the damage will be done long before they respond, if they respond. I’m going to go up there tomorrow and see what can be done.” Bud glanced at Lynn, “I think I better go up there with you just to kind of watch your back”. Lynn bit her lip and squeezed his hand unconsciously. Frank stood up, “Well, I’d be glad to have you. I’ll come by about 10:00”. Bud walked him to the car, Frank turned to him and said, “I’m sorry you had to get involved in this”. Bud shook his head; “I brought the problem to your door step. I shot a snake on my back porch the other night, I can’t leave a whole nest of them right up the road.” They shook hands and Frank drove off wondering how Bud would face Lynn. Bud watched Frank pull out; he wondered what kind of reception he would get inside. He had put Lynn through so much; he didn’t know why she was still with him.
Lynn climbed in the shower, it was a safe place, she could cry, pound on the walls, or even scream, cause she felt like doing all three. She had brought Bud home to Bisbee in hopes that they both could start over away from the life they had lived, hoping to forget the things they had seen, and done. But no, fuck no, it had to follow them here. She had spent months scared, frustrated, and exhausted. Now Bud was stronger than ever and he was going to go out and get shot up again. She loved him, but enough. She was just not going to watch him get killed. Lynn left the shower pulled on the first clothes she found and went out the back door to her car. She just couldn’t see Bud yet. Damn he was doing the right thing, Lynn thought as she pounded on the steering wheel, but I don’t care. She saw Bud come out the front door as she drove away.
Lynn drove into town, realizing there was no where to go in Bisbee at this time of night. Lynn passed the church and went on to the graveyard. She parked, and moved toward her Mother’s grave, she found it even in the dark. “Hi Mom, I’m sorry I haven’t been out in so long. I’ve been meaning to check in but I have so much to tell you, and you aren’t going to like a lot of it”. She turned when she heard her named called. “Lynn Bracken, what in heaven’s name are you doing in the graveyard at 10:00 at night?” Lynn immediately recognized Father Delong; he had been the priest in Bisbee for as long as she could remember. He moved over to hug her, “Lynn, I’ve been wondering when you would come and see me.” Lynn blinked away tears, and replied, “I don’t think I really belong in your church anymore. I have done some things that you would definitely not approve of.” Father Delong smiled, “I don’t have to approve, much of what we do is between The Savior and ourselves. Lynn can I help you, you look terribly troubled.” Lynn hesitated and then told the priest much of what had happened in the last two years since she had seen him. When she finished she searched his face for condemnation and found only sorrow. “Lynn you have had a bad time, I had no idea. This young man you speak of, do you care for him?” Lynn nodded. “Then you are going to have to make a decision, do you run away at the sign of adversity or do you trust in The Savior? I know that it seems that the bad outweighs the good, but love is not always an easy thing. I think you have to ask yourself would you be happy without this man?” Lynn shook her head, “No, I can’t really imagine being without him, but I’m so afraid.” Farther Delong smiled, “Don’t be afraid, it’s a waste of time, we start to die the minute we are born, only The Savior knows when we will be called home. Go, spend the time you have with your Bud, there are no guarantees for anyone.” Lynn thanked him and returned to the car. Still not happy but with a destination in mind, home. Don't be afraid, it's a waste of time. Good advice.
Bud watched Lynn drive away and went out to his car to follow her. He climbed in the car but didn’t turn it on. Lynn obviously needed some time. He didn’t think she’d be in any danger for the moment. She had a right to be upset; he had caused her nothing but grief since they had met. She’d probably do better if she just kept driving. Bud pounded on the steering wheel, damn, I was an idiot, I didn’t even ask her what she thought before I said I’d help. Bud knew even as he was regaling his own stupidity that he couldn’t just stand by and watch, in the long run it wouldn't help anything. He got out of the car and went back in the house; I'll give her a half-hour.
Sully had taken over driving just past Hoover Dam, he figured they would get into Bisbee sometime after 0200. He glanced over at Exley who was sleeping leaning against the door. Sully grinned; he was glad they weren't going around any sharp corners he might lose the young Lt. out the door. Sully was kind of surprised; he was starting to like the strange little guy. He was very smart, that plan he had laid out was near genius. Sully didn't know how Frank or God knows White would react to it, but he had mulled it over and it made pretty good sense. Oh well Sully thought, I'll be in good company however it goes down. He was almost ashamed to admit that he was excited, riding a desk was really not his thing, and one more big adventure before retirement suited him fine.
Carmine met up with his connection and the exchange of money for tar went as smooth as glass. Carmine was riding high, so far everything was going like magic. By this time next year he should be in charge, Vincent long gone. Carmine would be on his way up to the top of the organization. Life was great.
Lynn drove up the driveway and parked. The house was dark, she was afraid that Bud had left, maybe to look for her, maybe just to get away from her. She went in the kitchen door. She heard Bud's low honey voice from the kitchen, "Turn on a light, you'll fall". Lynn turned and switched on the light by the kitchen door. She turned back, and faced Bud. "Bud", Lynn started, Bud interrupted her. "Lynn, please don't leave like that again, you scared me. I was worried about you, but I was more worried that you wouldn't come back. I can't stand it if you leave me. Please, Lynn don't." Lynn looked at him in amazement, there were tears in his eyes. Lynn knew he loved her but showing emotion had never come easy to him, and the few times he had really shown intense emotion it was anger. She ran to him, he pulled her in his lap. "Bud, I was scared, if something happens to you I have to live without a heart for a long time. I gave you mine so you better take care of it and yourself." Bud looked at her for a minute, "Why do you feel that way about me? I asked you once you told me you didn't know." Lynn buried her face in his shoulder, and murmured, "I just know I do, you are the only man I have ever loved. I think I started to fall in love with you on Christmas Eve, your voice just vibrated through me, and the way you looked at me made me feel safe." Bud had wrapped both arms around her and was kind of rocking her, "Lynn would you marry me." Lynn just nodded against his chest. Bud smiled at the ceiling and just held her.
Chapter Eight: The Gathering Lynn woke up first, she heard a car pull up out front and she started to get up. Bud took hold of her arm and shook his head. The night before came back to Lynn in a flood, the good and the bad. She was getting married, if her groom lived. Bud moved out of the bedroom and over to the front windows. "What the hell?" he said, and walked out the door. Lynn heard him and got out of bed heading for the living room. She looked out the window and saw Ed Exley and another man in their front yard. "What the hell is right." Lynn was smiling as she went out the door. Bud reached out and shook Ed's hand. "Lt. Exley, or is it Captain by now"? He teased him. Bud looked over at Sully, "Hey Sully long time no see." Lynn met them on the porch. Ed smiled at her and Sully understood one more thing about Ed, he was very attached to Bud's lady. Sully watched Bud when the beautiful blond hugged Exley, he could see it was all right with Bud. Lynn moved away from Ed, and looked over at Sully, "Hi, I'm Lynn What are you two doing here?" Ed looked around at the dry country, and then peered around the porch through his glasses, "Fishing". Bud and Lynn laughed.
Frank had slept better than he expected, there was something about Bud White that gave him confidence. He figured that maybe things would turn out all right. He had rechecked the weapons from his cache, and they were ready. He still couldn't believe any of this was happening here. He would like to believe it was all a mistake, but he didn't believe in the Easter bunny either. He had several hours until he had to meet Bud, he figured he'd go to the office, just like a normal day.
Carmine and Vincent were headed back up from the border. The heroin was safe in the trunk, they had picked up their three man escort, and were headed to Bisbee. Carmine was happily humming along to a pop station; Vincent was trying not to be depressed. Vincent would be very glad when this was over with, he hated the desert, the current business they were doing, and for that matter Carmine. . He was usually a in control kind of guy, but the sequence of events starting with his trip to L.A. and ending with this trip to Mexico just made him nervous. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He had spent most of the previous sleepless night trying to figure out what was wrong, but he had come up with bupkis, nothing, or as they said in that cantina “nada”. Maybe when he got to Bisbee, where he had left Gloria things would seem clearer. He thought fleetingly about shooting Carmine to shut him up, but it was too damn hot to bother.
Lynn, fixing coffee for everyone, looked in amazement at the trio of men in her kitchen. How did I get from a Paget party full of freaks to a sunny kitchen full of cops? She had to count Bud in that description, it was even more apparent when in the company of the other two. They had a connection that no one from the outside could really understand, or breach. She had a moment of jealousy about this part of life she couldn’t ever entirely share with Bud. She than remembered the life in their bedroom, which no one else would ever share. Just thinking about the bedroom cheered her up, she thought she had a better part of Bud’s life. She had tried to ignore what the men were talking about she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what they were going to do. But suddenly she realized she had to know exactly what they were planning. Ed had been talking for a while, but was still discussing what he thought Ragnia was probably doing in Bisbee. Bud nodded now and then, Sully drank coffee and ate his third sweet roll. Lynn got the impression that Sully was confident in the other two men, and was just going to enjoy his morning. Lynn just had to like the big shambling cop with the gruff voice and the laugh lines, he just made her feel good. Ed looked good, calmer and somehow more settled and mature. He was, thank God, not so out to prove himself. Lynn tuned in on the conversation when Ed said he had a plan. Bud sat up straighter. Damn it, he was actually not upset, but rather enjoying this, Lynn thought.
Ed turned to Bud, “You said you were up the canyon, did you get a good look at the house? Bud nodded, and picking up the tablet and pencil from the phone table started drawing a rough map of the layout. “There’s an entrance here with a deep porch, an entrance on the side of the house. I would bet that is it. The house is set very close to the hill behind it, an entrance wouldn’t make a lot of sense. The mineshaft is about 75 feet to the north. It’s boarded up but there were big gaps where the boards have fallen down. There is a circular dirt drive into and out of the dead end, but there is no cover between the drives, or for that matter anywhere else in the front of the house. There are a few scraggly trees to the south of the house by the hill. I saw three men, at least two shotguns and hand guns on all of them.” Ed nodded, “I think we could get in there and take out the three men and wait for the rest, but I hate to move before whoever they are waiting for arrives. We could get surprised. I also don’t want them to get away, especially if they have a load of drugs with them.” Sully, put down the last of his sweet roll and for the first time spoke, “I think we should do this in two parts, I could go up on that hill” pointing to the area Bud had watched from, “keep an eye on the three of them”. Bud could go into town, and watch for the others, they will come right down the main street, these kinds of punks are too arrogant to be careful. I knew a slew of them in N.Y., they generally don’t have the brains of a gnat.” Ed said, “I could stay here and wait for Tisdale, and get the equipment ready.” Bud turned to Lynn, “I want you to go to work, and stay there until I come for you”. Lynn started to protest, but she realized that Bud did not need the distraction of worrying about her. One hour later Sully took off on foot toward the ridge wearing a hunting jacket, and carrying a burlap sack and a shot gun, looking all the world like a hunter out looking for game. Ed settled down in the kitchen with gun oil, rags, and a fresh pot of coffee. Bud followed Lynn into the bedroom, Lynn led Bud into the bathroom next to their room, she wanted a few minutes of privacy. Bud followed her into the bathroom, Bud turned to her grinning, “This is an interesting place for a conversation.” Lynn smiled at him, “How long do we have?” Bud thought for a minute, “Well, we don’t have to leave for about an hour.” “Good” Lynn said, as she unbuttoned his shirt, Bud looked nervously toward the door. Lynn laughed softly, “If you don’t want him to know, you’ll have to cooperate, and be quiet while your doing it.” She continued unbuttoning his shirt pulling it out if his pants. She stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him on the neck just below his ear lobe, she then ran her tongue gently down his neck toward his shoulder. Bud shifted his weight and Lynn could see his erection under his jeans. She bit his chest right under his collarbone, and he moaned softly. He then started fighting back reaching down to cup her face in his hands pulling her face up for a kiss. He dropped his hands down to cup her breasts. She ran her hands up his stomach to his chest running her nails across his stomach muscles, up across his nipples to his shoulders. Bud backed up a little, “Lynn unless you want to be taken on a cold tile floor, you better take a shower, and I’ll go try to get control of myself.” Lynn smiled and said, “The tile floor would be a little cold, so I think we should take a shower.” Bud grinned, “Lynn, you’re kidding right?” Lynn kissed him, “I never kid about cleanliness” Bud grinned again and started out of the bathroom. Lynn closed the door he had started to open, and said, “Bud, I want you, now”. Bud looked at her a minute, she usually wasn’t forceful, but she sounded dead serious. Bud moved back close and started to unbutton her blouse. He didn’t really care if Ed heard them or not, Lynn needed him, that was what counted. Lynn smiled up at him and unsnapped his jeans. They laughed quietly and stripped, no longer in the mood to wait. Lynn turned on the water, and pulled Bud into the stall shower. She was amazed at how small the shower seemed with Bud in it. His shoulders were almost as wide as the shower walls, and his sheer bulk dwarfed the whole area. She took a moment to look at him, in the light, standing with his muscles taut, and his cock rapidly hardening. She thought in passing, I would love to have a son, one that looked just like Bud. This thought took her back a moment, they had never discussed children, and she had no idea what he thought about them. Bud reached out and caressed her breasts pulling her into his arms, her last thought before the feel of Bud took over was, her diaphragm was in the drawer by the bed. Bud kissed her neck, biting gently up to her earlobe, moving back to her mouth, forcing his tongue gently in and out of her mouth. She reached down and cupped his balls running her fingers across his wet cock. Bud looked perplexed for a moment and then casually picked her up and with his back against the shower wall entered her. He stood there holding her and trying to be quiet. Lynn wrapped her legs around his waist, tightening her muscles around his cock. She had thought that they would do a quiet gentle lovemaking sitting on the floor of the shower, she had had no comprehension of just how heated and wild they would get. Bud was stronger than she had imagined any man could be, he just started rising and lowering her, kissing her, and nuzzling her neck, until she thought she would go out of her mind. Lynn started to moan, and remembering, tried to be quiet. She was almost successful letting out little breathy groans with every stroke. Bud was doing better being quiet, but Lynn could feel the growing excitement and tension was taking its’ toll on his control. She was afraid that Ed was going to hear them soon. She knew she was going to come soon and by the speed that Bud was raising and lowering her she knew he was close as well. Lynn went over the top, biting Bud on the shoulder when she felt him explode. He tensed and then forced his cock past her spasming muscles, holding there, whispering her name over and over. When it was over they both sank to the shower floor. Bud looked at her and smiled, “I love you Lynn, love you.” Lynn curled up under the warm water and tried to forget what the rest of the day might bring. “I love you Bud”.
Ed had a good idea what was going on in the other part of the house, he hadn’t really heard anything, but they had been gone a long time, and the shower had been on a long time as well. He grinned, he knew how it was for them. He was embarrassed to remember watching them through Lynn’s window, but he had and it gave him information he never would have had otherwise. He had to admit that when he saw them that night, he really hadn’t believed that Lynn was acting, no one was that good. He also admitted to himself that he had wanted her to be acting so badly he had convinced himself she was. But sitting in her kitchen he remembered the joyous light on her face, he had known the truth, and had been jealous. One small part of him was still glad he had gone to Lynn. He now had an idea of what he was looking for in a woman, only he wanted the joyous light on that woman’s face to be for him. He heard the door open down the hall and got very busy making noise; no need to cause them any embarrassment. Ed resolved again that Bud would be in one piece at the end of this.
Chapter Nine: A Quiet Morning in Bisbee? Gloria woke up early, a definite handicap in her line of work, but she had an internal clock set for rooster, and that was that. She got up and realized that Vincent would not be back for several hours. Gloria was not supposed to leave her room; she’d been instructed by Vincent to stay out of sight. But Vincent, being from the Big Apple, did not understand that the “Wee Blue Inn” for all it’s blue walls, plastic tulips, small round pool, and “refrigeration” would not have room service or even a coffee shop. Gloria had eaten a candy bar (stale), and a coke (flat) for dinner. She was starved. For all of Gloria’s tiny waist and slender legs, she ate like a lumberjack. Gloria knew that if the sun were up the coffee shop on Main Street would be open. She knew this because she came from a town even smaller than Bisbee in the center of Iowa. It was always the same in these small towns. The sidewalks were rolled up by 7:00 at night, with most businesses open by 7:00 in the morning. Gloria dressed in her drabbest pair of slacks, a plain blue shirt and put a scarf over her red hair. She knew there was a coffee shop out there, and she was going to find it. It was way past the breakfast rush; she should be able to get in and out without causing any notice. She walked down the sidewalk in front of the motel, practicing her Iowa walk, being as small town as she could remember.
Sully took a swig out of his canteen, and sat with his back to a tree watching the house, he had seen nothing since arriving, but the Caddy was out front, so it was unlikely anyone was gone from the house. Sully just figured these city boys weren’t used to getting up in the morning. After all crime and mischief were best practiced when dark helped you. That was OK, Sully had been on stakeouts that lasted for days, he’d always found something to keep his interest. He had remembered to watch for snakes, but hadn’t expected to see other wildlife and he’d been pleasantly surprised. He had seen rabbits, squirrels, and had heard what he suspected was a deer, going through brush on the mountainside just in the last half-hour. He laughed to himself, but I haven’t seen any skunks or ferrets yet, they’re still asleep. Sully had been studying the terrain and the house for possible use later; he was surprised at the detail Bud had remembered from the couple of minutes he had spent on the hill. Sully figured the mine to be closer to 100 feet from the house but other than that Bud had been right on. Sully took another drink of water and watched a horny toad crawl out from under a rock to sun himself. He could get used to this country life.
Bud and Lynn left for Bisbee. Lynn was going to the coffee shop on Main Street. Bud felt safe leaving her there, she only had to watch for strange cars or people while Bud connected up with Tisdale. Lynn sat down at a front table by the windows and ordered coffee. The girl who brought the coffee stopped for a minute and talked. They had gone to high school together and had not seen each other in several years. Lynn didn’t notice the women sitting at the back of the coffee shop, but Gloria noticed her. My god Gloria thought what is Lynn Bracken doing in this backwater place? The last she had heard Lynn was on the gravy train working for some rich guy, who ran some hotsy-totsy French sounding group. She didn’t know the particulars, but had hoped that she would be able to connect into something like that someday. She knew she was beautiful, but Lynn Bracken had a little something extra. Gloria had talked with her several times at parties, and had gone home trying to immolate her voice, mannerisms, and the way she dressed. Yeah, Lynn had always looked good, just a little bit special. Gloria toyed with going over to her table, but remembered her orders from Vince. Oh shit, Lynn was probably waiting for one of them as well. Gloria slipped out the back way; she really didn’t want Lynn spilling the beans about her morning on the town. She’d been gone too long from the motel. She had better get back before Vincent showed up.
Frank saw Bud before he came in the police office. He observed that it would not be easy to miss him, not on the crowded streets of LA, and certainly not on the narrow sidewalks of Bisbee. Frank noticed that as he walked by people they invariably looked at him after he passed. Frank shook his head, he sure wouldn’t have made it under-cover where disappearing into the woodwork was an advantage, he just stood out, like a wolf in a pack of dogs. Bud walked through his door. “Hey, Frank”, he said, crossing over to the coffee table where Frank was standing. “I had a couple of surprise visitors this morning I believe you know one of them. Sully showed up with a Lt. I know from L.A. named Exley. They said that they had gotten nervous about things after talking to you, and took a drive out”. Frank looked amazed, “Sully is here, well I’ll be damned”. “Yeah, Sully is sitting on the hill watching our boys in the box canyon. Exley’s thought up a plan that might take care of the problem, Frank, he’s real smart, but well, you’ll see. I’m going to send you out there to talk with him. I will follow as soon as the rest of them come through town. It could be today or tomorrow, I can’t believe those three would hang around doing nothing longer than that”. Frank nodded, “I think I’ll take my toys when I go to your place, we need to stay in close contact, your place is biggest and closest to the problem. I guess we’ll just dig in and wait.” Bud turned to go, “I don’t want to leave Lynn in that coffee shop very long."
Vincent and Carmine had reached the outskirts of Bisbee without incident. They drove down the road approaching the main square. Vincent spotted the coffee shop, and turning toward Carmine “Why don’t we stop and get some coffee before we go out to this “perfect” house you found”. Carmine didn’t comment, but pulled the car over in front of the coffee shop. Vincent climbed out stretching; Carmine was not in the good mood he’d been in leaving Mexico. He did not enjoy Vincent’s company; right now the man was too gloomy and critical. They walked up the three stairs, Vincent stooped to put out a cigarette, and when he stood up Carmine was staring through the window, with a grin on his face. Vincent looked in the same direction and saw a beautiful blond sitting at the table by the window. He turned to warn Carmine about wasting time on a piece of tail, but Carmine had already entered the restaurant and was making a beeline for the table that contained the Blond. Neither man saw a third man enter the back door heading in the same direction as Carmine. Carmine moved in fast, he walked over and pulling a chair out sat down next to Lynn. “Boy are you a sight, I’d given up on finding anything worth my time out here, but you definitely fit the bill”. Lynn looked at him for a moment. She had dealt with a dozen Carmines and wasn’t particularly frightened or annoyed. She knew immediately he was what Bud and the others were waiting for. All she had to do was get rid of him, and let Bud or Frank know he was in town She would then go to the shop, and try to keep her mind on business, and her bruised faith in tact. Bud started toward the table and saw the man sit down across from Lynn. He instinctively reached behind his back for his 38, and stopped himself before he pulled it. He didn’t know what this sleazy little man in the shiny suit might be carrying, and there were too many people including Lynn in his immediate proximity. Bud did the hardest thing he had ever done. He held on to his temper and fear long enough to see how Lynn would handle the man. He knew that the man wasn’t threatening Lynn, and that she was probably better equipped to extradite herself from his reach then any woman he had ever known. He wasn’t pleased about the way Lynn had learned to handle men, but he was proud of the way she could work a situation and come out safe. It made protecting her easier, and allowed him a little more peace of mind. She would never be taken in by a con or be victimized unless they came at her with only force, no desire. Then Bud prayed he would be there because that he understood and could prevent. Lynn seemed to be talking politely and distantly with the man. He leaned toward her and tried to touch her arm. Bud started to move, when out of the corner of his eye he saw a slightly older man in yet another shiny suit move toward the table. “Carmine, we’ve got business, this will have to wait” The man at the table turned and looked at him. “I don’t like being told what to do.” The older man looked at him for a minute and said, “Tell it to the old man”. The man who was sitting too close to Lynn got up knocking over his chair and stomped out the front door, followed by the man who had spoken to him. Lynn looked over at Bud, he realized in that moment that she had known he was there all along. For just a split second he was afraid. Afraid that Lynn would be angry with him or that when he looked in her eyes he would see himself reflected in a different way. Lynn waited until the men went down the steps and then casually walked to the back of the café. Smile on her face, and a warm arm wrapping around his waist. “Well Bud that is definitely one of the missing men. He smelled of marijuana, and had a gold ram’s horn necklace on, he is certainly from somewhere back east by the accent, and is not terribly bright.” Bud hugged her; “Maybe you should have been the detective”. Lynn smiled and then sobered, “Thank-you for being here, and not interfering. It gave me a chance to help. I know it wasn’t easy for you to hold back, but you thought first. I told you, you were smart enough”. Bud looked at her for a minute and taking her arm walked her out into the sun and down the street to her little shop. “Lynn, I will be back for you. If I am not back by dark, use the cot in the back room.” Lynn started to protest, but seeing Bud’s face and the concern in his eyes she nodded. Bud kissed her and lay the back of one of his big hands on her cheek. Then he was gone. Lynn felt like a war bride, not knowing what the future would bring but facing it with her heart pledged, and her spirit frightened.
Frank drove out to Bud and Lynn’s house. He walked out in the open purposefully to the front door. He was right to have approached in the way he did. Ed was standing just inside the door with Bud’s shotgun, and had sized up Frank long before he reached the steps. Frank knocked on the door, and announced himself. When Ed opened the door, Frank found himself looking at a slight, thin-faced man with owl looking eyes behind round glasses. Frank was taken aback by the school teacher look, but then he noticed the shotgun in Ed’s right hand and through the kitchen door a neat line of freshly cleaned guns and stacks of ammo. Frank smiled, his Mama had always said that you had to look past the top layer to see what a person really was. He stuck out his left hand since Exley’s right hand was occupied and as they shook left handed, said, “You must be Bud’s smart friend Ed, well I’m Frank”. Ed smiled, "I'm Ed Exley, and yes I guess I am Bud's smart friend. I think friend is more important than smart." Frank looked at him for a minute, "Exley, you're the guy from the Victory Motel, Sully said you and Bud were alone against some very bad men." Ed replied, "I wouldn't be here except for Bud, he took a bullet meant for me." Frank nodded, "Partners do that sometimes". "Well we weren't really partners, there was some really bad blood between us". Ed replied. He was amazed that he had told the older policeman so much. There was just something about this man. Frank said, "Well whether you started out partners it looks to me like you ended up that way." Ed nodded, looked up at Frank thoughtfully; they had ended up partners, the only one Ed had really ever known, except for maybe briefly with Jack. Frank went into the kitchen taking a careful look at the weapons laid out on the table and the island counter area. He spotted a object that looked like a big tin can with a handle on top, "O.K. Ed what is this implement of destruction?" Ed walked over and picked it up, he demonstrated how to use it and what it did. Frank shook his head, what kind of newfangled thing would they come up with next?
Carmine fumed all the way to the motel where Vincent had left Gloria. He had been on the verge of connecting with that beautiful blond, but no, Vincent had to stick his big nose in. Carmine wished he had the guts to get rid of Vincent. The old man could do much better. Like with me he thought. He knew however that the grandfather of Vincent had been the old man's right hand man and that he had promised to take care of Vincent. Carmine on the other hand was from a clan of poor Italian immigrants. They had been farmers, and now worked in the factories and sweatshops of Little Italy in the Lower East Side of the bowery. He had washed his hands of those losers years ago. He had brought his sister along with him and they were doing very well. Virginia was a pretty thing and a great asset. He could convince her to do almost anything. This had included servicing the "old Man" himself. Carmine had moved right in behind her securing a future in the organization. They arrived at the motel, Carmine carefully arranged his face in a mask, it wouldn't do for Vincent or Gloria to read his real feelings. Gloria came to the door dressed in a silk dressing gown. She seemed to be very satisfied with her accommodations and thrilled to see Vincent. Vincent turned to Carmine, "I want you to go out to the house and get started, you can send Marco back to get me in two hours." Carmine seethed, oh yeah he gets to play footsie with the floozy, but heaven forbid he give me ten minutes to snare a beautiful piece. Well, his day will come, and I, Carmine Ragnia, will be there to pick up the pieces and reap the rewards.
At the house on River Road the three young men had been awakened by the arrival of the escort car. The six young men expected Carmine and Vincent shortly and went about clearing up empty wine bottles, cigarette butts, and girly magazines. They all knew that Vincent liked a clean work area, and that he could get really testy when things didn’t go right. Marco Stagnaro didn’t participate in the clean up and no one expected him to, he was the unofficial chef of the Vincent clan. He never went anywhere without the implements of his chosen hobby, and had been known to spend hours in the kitchen with the women. No one teased Marco about this however, because he really was a great cook. Marco was also the largest member of the group, possibly the largest member of almost any group. He stood 6’4” and weighed in at 250 pounds. Fortunately, Marco was fairly good-natured and his associates rarely suffered from his temper, which was mild or his violent nature, which was almost non-existent. He simply liked to cook, and do his job. He was standing in the kitchen making sauce on the old stove he had found still worked. He had carefully packed his giant pasta pan full of all the necessities of life. He had included his own special canned Italian tomatoes. (He canned them in a secret blend of wine, peppers, garlic and fresh basil), good pasta from Italy, fresh garlic cloves, onions, and a variety of dried herbs and cheese. He had also stuck in a bottle of olive oil, so pale it looked almost clear, and several loaves of Italian bread packed carefully in layers of waxed paper to keep it fresh. Marco would not dream of going to a heathen place like this without food, heaven knows what they might be forced to eat. Marco’s little brother Tony, who only stood 6’1 and weighed a fraction of his brothers bulk came in to tell him that the place was in pretty good shape. Marco looked at Tony, “You better get cleaned up, you’re all covered in dust. Tell Gui too.” Tony noticed that Marco didn’t mention the three who had just arrived. Marco, Tony, and Guido had grown up together and had over the last 5 years become a tight unit. They usually were used for jobs that involved a measure of decorum and brains, because for all the size of Marco and to a lesser degree Tony, they had shown early on that they were dependable and could follow fairly complex orders. Even in a business where violence was a necessary evil brains were not wasted. The three who had joined them were from the other side of the “family”; they were simply muscle men. Marco, Tony and Guido found their attitude unpleasant, and their predilection for death unsettling. They stayed clear if possible. Marco would cook for them, every Italian deserved a good sauce, but he would not call them friend, or invite them to his house for Lasagna. Marco was adding the dried salami to the sauce when he heard a car drive up. He turned down the heat and went to meet the boss.
Sully had known there was a car coming long before it arrived, the amount of dust on the road meant that something large was traveling in his direction. He moved a little way down the hill and watched the main entrance with his binoculars, careful to not catch the sun’s reflection with the lenses. A total of seven, well he’d keep waiting and watching, there might be more. He wanted all of them in one place. He was sure that Bud had spotted them in town and that before too long he, Ed, and Frank would show up. Sully had already spotted a way down the hill to the area around the mine. He had one of Ed’s smoke bombs in his burlap sack, and knew right where to put it. Should make one hell of a mess. Sully settled down again opening his burlap sack to pull out a bag of unshelled peanuts. He grinned; maybe one of those squirrels would come close enough to share his lunch. Skunk hunting was hungry work, but he didn’t mind sharing.
Bud had seen a car with three men in it, another new car driven by a Johnny look-a-like as he headed to the back door of the coffee shop. After he left Lynn he went back to his car and waited a few minutes. He didn’t want to be on the road anywhere near either car. No sense giving them anything to think about. When he left, Carmine was well on his way, and Vincent had already climbed into bed with Gloria. Bud figured Frank had reached his house long before the three men passed it. The jeep was stashed behind the house, and with only Lynn’s car there, Frank’s unmarked car shouldn’t look out of place. Bud went over the plan once more on the way. They were going to try and arrest the 7 or 8 men, seize the drugs, and stop all of it before it started. Maybe with the fancy plan Ed had plotted they would be successful. He just hoped the smoke bomb Sully was going to put in the mine would draw all of them out of the house. If not then it could turn into a gun battle, and things could go badly. Bud wished they had better cover in the front yard, but the surprise factor should make up for it. He thought about the worst case scenario, and wondered if he should write Lynn a note. He decided no, he had actually said what he wanted to say to her, no regrets. She knew how he felt.
Ed had filled Frank in on the plans and all the weapons, including the extra smoke bomb were stored in the jeep out of sight. There was nothing to do but wait for Bud. Ed sat in the front room to the side of the picture window. No one could see him but he had a clear view of the road. He had seen one car go up the canyon about 20 minutes ago, but Bud had not shown up. There must be more men coming, or something had gone wrong. Ed figured that either Bud would show soon, or Lynn would come back and tell them what had happened. Frank had settled down across the room, and was leafing through a hunting magazine. "Hey, Ed have you ever been hunting". He said. "I saw that 30 ought 6 you loaded in the car." Ed shook his head, "No, I was supposed to go with my Father when I was old enough". "What happened? Did he lose interest?" Ed looked out the window, "No, he died." Frank said, "In the line of duty?" Ed nodded. Frank had a better idea now what he was dealing with; he had a smart, physically underdeveloped kid living in his father's footsteps. He would have to watch him closely today. Heroes usually died early and badly.
Carmine had arrived and sent the three escorts out to bring in the bundles from the trunk. He wanted Tony and Guido to break it down; he didn't trust the three soldiers to do it correctly. He didn't figure they would have the guts to cheat, but they weren't smart enough to work the scales correctly. He forgot about Marco helping as soon as he opened the door. He hadn't smelled anything that good since he left New York almost two weeks ago. In fact he wasn't sure he had ever smelled anything that good. He wanted Marco to just keep on cooking.
Sully had a feeling this was it. The men from the second car had met the man who was obviously in charge on the front porch. Sully had for a moment seen a fifth man. He was big, almost as broad-shouldered as Bud, and several inches taller. Sully would not want to tangle with this man hand to hand. He was all Bud's. He walked back up to the meet site, he could still see the house, but he would be able to see the jeep as well. Sully didn't wait much longer; the jeep with the three men came in shortly thereafter. They had driven slow to try and keep the dust down, and arrived without notice from the house. Frank climbed out of the jeep first and strode over to Sully. "Long time Sully, good to see you", Frank said clapping Sully on the shoulder. Sully grinned cuffed him back, "Just thought I'd drop in." Bud and Ed came over to the pair, "What's been going on down there?" Bud walking over to the edge of the hill. Sully followed him, "There's 7 men down there, they took a big bundle wrapped in burlap in a few minutes ago and two smaller ones. If I had to guess I'd bet the larger of the two is marijuana, and the smaller heroin. I have only seen one of the original three, but he is one big sucker. The three men who arrived next looked like soldiers; that's what we call the enforcement end of the families in NY. The last man is definitely in charge." "There was only one man in the last car?" Bud said, "I saw two men together in town." Sully shook his head, "Nope, only one showed here." Ed said, "Bud it's unlikely the missing one has a car. I think we will have to take the risk that he won't show up in the middle. We can always try to round him up later." Frank nodded, "It does seem likely that the two of them were in the same car. Bud, did you see any strange cars on your way out of town." Bud replied, "No and I was looking for something out of the ordinary. I say let's just do it". Sully smiled, "Well, I'm not going to argue." Sully picked up his bag, "I've found a great way down, give me five minutes." Bud held his watch up next to Sully's and nodded.
Carmine was watching the set up of the scales, he figured once the weight was right he could relax while Tony and Guido packaged it up. The marijuana would be easy; they just passed on a seemingly equal amount to each supplier. The suppliers sold some and used the rest to help hook new users. It was a cheap way to get customers ready for the more expensive heroin.
Sully carefully made his way down the hill staying behind one of the two trees growing between him and the mine. He watched the corner of the house, and his footing equally, he didn't want to get caught, but a broken leg would not be a good thing. Sully made it to the mine with almost a minute to spare. He crouched down behind a bush and watched his watch, smoke bomb in his hand. Sully could see Bud coming from the south side of the house quick and quiet. Sully was amazed that a man that large could be so quick and quiet, he was really moving. Sully couldn't see Frank or Ed but he knew they were coming around the back of the house to take position on the left side of the front door. When he saw them come around the back of the house, Bud was already standing at the end of the porch to the right of the front door. Sully got the smoke bomb ready hoping that it would work, number one, and have the desired effect, number two.
Carmine and everyone but Marco were in the main area of the house, what would once have been called the parlor. Carmine was getting bored; he kept rerunning the incidents at the coffee shop. He liked to think about the girl, but he didn't like to think about Vincent. He would seriously have to arrange for something bad to happen to Vincent. Carmine was shaken out of thought when the entire house shook and a cloud of smoke blew through the broken windows. Carmine jumped up and ran to the window. The smoke was too thick to see, "Jesus, I think one of the cars blew up." The men ran out the front door. Marco didn't leave the kitchen, he was concerned that the dust that had shaken loose from the ceiling might ruin his sauce; he kept his mind on what he considered important, dinner. Two of the soldiers drew weapons before exiting the house, but none of the others had a propensity for weaponry, and just didn't feel the need. As the men ran out the door a large man confronted them with a shotgun. One of the soldiers raised his gun and a shot rang out from the left. Ed had taken the first one down, the second turned toward him and got one shot off before he was knocked down by the third soldier coming out the door. He fell on top of the injured man, his gun flying across the yard. The third solder reached for his gun but the man with the glasses was already pointing a gun at his stomach. He dropped his gun, and stood quiet. Carmine started to go back in the door, but Bud racked a shell into the shotgun and pointed it at his chest. "Don't". He said. Tony and Gui were in the doorway, and didn't like Carmine's chances, or for that matter theirs. Tony said, "We're coming out”, they pushed Carmine through the door in front of them. Carmine stopped a few feet in front of Bud; “Do you know who you are messing with?” Bud looked at him; “You look like scum to me”. Carmine forgot the shotgun for a minute, and moved toward Bud. Bud just stood there, looking at him, Carmine stopped; he didn’t like the look on the big man’s face. He’d wait, there’d be a chance to get even. It was better to just bide his time. Ed herded the six men over toward the vehicles. Sully drove up in the jeep. He had been unable to see his way back to the house and had gone back up the hill the way he had come down. He figured if they got in trouble he would borrow Ed’s deer rifle and try to even up the odds. He’d been able to see through the clearing smoke that things were going well, so he had brought the jeep down. Bud turned to Frank, “Wait a minute and we’ll go in and get the drugs.” He walked over to Ed, “Here take the shotgun,” he grinned in the direction of the men, “That way you can shot more than one of them at once.” He walked back up the stairs to the porch. He and Frank went in to the house. They had only made one mistake in the smoke and the heat of the moment, they had not noticed they only had six men in custody.
Vincent rolled over in his deluxe room at the Wee Blue Inn and was struck by another strong notion that things were not going well. He pulled on a pair of pants, nudging Gloria to one side as he got up from the bed. He walked outside, he needed to get some air and try to shake the feeling of doom that even Gloria’s talented body hadn’t erased. He stretched and looking south saw a big smoke cloud. He casually wondered what could be burning out there? Then it hit him that was the way Carmine and the others had gone. Vincent made a life changing decision in that moment. His Grandmother had always told him to trust his hunches; they would keep him safe. Well, this time you win Grandma he thought. He went back in and told Gloria to get up and pack fast. She started to ask him a question, and seeing the look on his face shut her mouth and hurriedly got into some clothes. Vincent walked across the parking lot and down two doors to a house he had seen earlier. The house had an abandoned look, there were curtains in the windows, and a garden hose, but the porch had two newspapers on it and the mailbox was bulging. He moved down the driveway to the garage hoping that the people had left a car. He was in luck, sort of; the vehicle in the garage was old, old, old, one of those early pick-up trucks you see in movies about the depression. But it was Vince’s day; the truck actually started after grinding for a minute. Vincent left the truck there and went back to the motel. Gloria had done an amazing job of gathering their belongings, and had even managed to put on lipstick and pull her hair up. Vincent was more impressed with this woman all the time. He had decided that maybe she should be a permanent part of his life. At least for a while. They quietly left the room and ten minutes later were chugging along headed for Phoenix. Carmine knew where Vincent would be if they got separated or if there was trouble. Vincent would give him two days to show up at the auto court. After that he would have to decide whether to trust that the old man wouldn’t kill him, or move to the southern part of Mexico. He hated the idea of not seeing NY again, but you can’t enjoy anywhere if you are dead. Vincent being Vincent never thought of the seven men at the house on River Road. He believed in the survival of the fittest, and he planned on staying very fit.
Marco had heard the shots out front, and then nothing. He waited for the men to come back in, but again, nothing. He covered the sauce carefully and turned to leave the kitchen. The house had no back entrance but maybe he could go out the small window at the back of the house. As he turned he saw an older man framed in the door looking back toward the front of the house. Marco picked up a heavy old pan he had found on the stove when he cleaned it, and swung at the older man through the doorway. Frank sensed movement and started to turn, the frying pan hit his shoulder instead of the back of his head. He was however thrown into the door jam by the force of the blow and slumped to the kitchen floor. Bud heard something and called out to Frank, who did not answer. Bud pulled his thirty-eight and moved toward the sound. Marco reached for his gun and realized that he had left it in the parlor. He figured he had gotten rid of one man with just an old frying pan, he’d get rid of this one too. He’d never really enjoyed violence, but sometimes you just had to do some. He moved over to the stove quietly picking up the knife he had left there. Bud didn’t like it; Frank should have answered. He realized in that moment that he and the others had overlooked someone, and that that someone was still in the house. Bud moved very quietly through the house every muscle tensed, his ears focused for the slightest sound. He momentarily regretted having left the shotgun outside with Ed, but just as quickly decided his handgun would be better in close quarters. He saw a doorway ahead, in the doorway a man was lying half in, half out of the kitchen. He could tell even in the dim light that it was Tisdale. Bud knew that the man who had gotten to Frank was either still in the kitchen or further back in the house. Either way Bud had to pass that door, or go through it. He suspected that the man was still in the kitchen, there wasn’t really anywhere to go. He stopped dead quiet and listened, he heard breathing, and realized that Frank was probably alive. He didn’t think he’d be able to hear the other man breathing; and the breathing he heard was slow and even, not the breath pattern of a man jumped up by adrenaline. The hair on the back of Bud’s neck felt tingly, he knew that the man was on the other side of the wall. Bud could just wait him out, but Frank might need help, and not have time to waste. Bud thought fleetingly of making his way out front to enlist the assistance of Ed or Sully, but he rejected the idea out of hand, it would give the man time to move, and that would make him more dangerous. Nope, Bud would have to go through that door.
Lynn had thought she was holding her emotions in check, and that from the outside she would appear perfectly normal. She had done all the normal routines of opening, and had even hung a particularly pretty blue blouse in the window. But when Lottie Baker came back to try on the yellow dress, she knew immediately that something was wrong, She hurried across the street and to get her sister. She and Millie together could handle anything, and whatever this was, they would have to make better. Lynn looked terrible. Lottie hoped it wasn’t trouble with that young man. That would be real trouble. She had looked in those green eyes, and for a moment forgot she was almost 60 with grandchildren. Yes, Lynn would be a long time getting over him.
Bud moved quiet, past Frank’s feet into the kitchen. Something large came out of the shadow in the corner and hit his arm, the cast iron frying pan, and his gun hit the wall and clattered off across the kitchen floor. Bud focused in the dim room and saw a big man heading in the direction of his gun. He launched himself at the figure in a flying tackle, hit the man and hard. The man staggered but didn’t fall, regaining his balance on the kitchen wall. Bud came up from a crouch hitting the man in the stomach full force; the man groaned but didn’t go down. Bud had fought some tough men, but this man was really big, and surprising agile. Bud caught a fist in the face and almost missed the knife coming up toward his chest. He swiveled and grabbed the big man’s wrist. The man grabbed at Bud’s hands trying to force the blade back in the direction he had pointed it. Bud and he stood toe-to-toe, four hands gripping the big blade. Marco thought fleetingly “What am I doing”, but it was a little too late to reconsider his actions. If he let up this big man with the intense eyes and the wide shoulders would finish him. The two men fought for the knife moving slowly in one direction and then the next. Bud bent one of his legs and pushed hard trying to break the hold on the knife; both men fell across the room. Marco bumped into the stove; the momentum and his weight caused the sauce he had so carefully made to cascade down the side of the stove splashing the boiling liquid the length of Marco’s right side. He cried out releasing his hold on the knife and slapping at the boiling liquid. Bud turned him into the wall, kicking the knife into the corner, and cuffed him, then walked over and grabbed a pitcher of water and poured it down the man’s burnt side. Bud then called out “Ed come in here, Frank’s been hurt.”
Ed handed the shotgun to Sully and headed off toward the front door at a run. Sully watched the six men, one of them squirmed and Sully pointedly aimed in his direction. The man looked at the older cop, who was actually smiling, and did not like what he saw. He and his companions glanced at each other and sat very still. They felt that the big old cop would probably not mind digging their graves right here. Hell, he’d probably whistle while he did it.
Lottie and Millie had settled down in Lynn’s shop. They had not bothered to ask her what was wrong. She wasn’t ready to tell them. Lynn kept checking the clock over the cash register. The two sisters had looked at each other the third time she’d done this, they now knew that whatever was going on would either happen, or not happen by a certain time. They would just drink tea and talk nonsense until that time came. Lottie had tried on the yellow dress, and Millie had tried on a couple of white hats. By the time they were done, Millie knew that Lottie was right, something was very wrong. The two women had simply planted themselves after that, and if Lynn noticed anything strange about it, she wasn’t showing it. As the time passed however Lynn became more agitated pacing back and forth, fussing with collars and belts on the dresses, and looking out the front window. Lottie finally went over to Lynn, “Dear, I don’t know what is wrong but you need to sit down, you’re getting all worked up; that won’t help anything.” Lynn looked at her with haunted eyes, and then allowed herself to be led back to a chair. Millie spoke softly, “Is there anything we can do”. Lynn shook her head fighting back tears. Lottie patted her on the shoulder and shrugged at her sister. They would just continue waiting.
Bud headed out of the jail, he and the others had locked up the seven men. Ed and Sully were going to watch the men until the state troopers showed up the next morning. Bud had somewhere to go. He hurried down the street; all of a sudden the most important thing in the world was seeing Lynn. He just wanted to see her face. Millie saw him first, he was a sight, blood on his shirt and a black eye, but he seemed OK. Bud walked over and Lynn looked up. The two sisters knew they could leave. Lynn had lit up like a star on a summer night. The two sisters saw the big man wrap Lynn up in his arms and heard her laugh as they went out the door. Another job well done by the Baker sisters.
Frank sat behind his desk with a bandage on his head. The doctor had checked his head and told him long as he wasn’t dizzy, and didn’t lose his dinner he should be fine. He had also told Frank not to sleep for a while. Frank had laughed at that. Oh, yeah he was going to sleep with seven drug smuggling gang members in his jail, not likely. Sully was sitting by the window looking out at the street. “Frank, I think I’m going to come back when I retire. I like it here.” He said. Frank looked at him for a minute, “ Do you think there will be enough excitement for you here?” Sully laughed, “Well there sure was this trip. But, I just think it is a nice place. We could go off hunting, maybe see the Grand Canyon,” he glanced over at Ed, “Maybe the Lt. would like to come, too.” Frank smiled, “Sounds nice but I’m not retiring, who’s going to watch the store”. Sully looked surprised, “Bud, of course.” Frank thought for a minute, “You know that is not a bad idea.” Ed looked thoughtfully out the window; he just wished he knew where the missing man had gone.
Bud and Lynn drove home, she wanted to know all about what had happened, but not today. Today she just wanted to sit with Bud on their porch, and watch the sun go down.
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