“What the hell you been up to?” the lawyer wanted to know.
Dallas felt his banged-up eye. “You want a beer? I’ll buy a couple over at the spa. It’s cooler there, and I can tell you all about how I assaulted these four big muscle guys who were only trying to get away from me on the beach!”
“That’s interesting,” Shapiro said. “It might even believable.”
In the dimly lighted tavern the lawyer sighed, leaned back and wiped foam off his beard. “That’s cute,” he said. “Dallas if that’s not really cute. This Collins is beating you to the punch man. And I’ll figure that’s smart enough to have the warrant sworn out by only one guy; the other three are going to be witnesses. But basically, I think he meant you to sit out the weekend in jail.
If I wasn’t a pal of Judge Erdrich, you wouldn’t have gotten sprung until Monday, bail or no bail.”
Dallas sipped beer. “And who knows? There might be a couple of big guys waiting for me on the inside.”
Nodding, Shapiro said, “You’re right. But your curly locks are worth it, I gather?”
“You gather, Mend.”
The lawyer thumb nailed his flowing moustache. “Then I’d better check out these four guys; all the way I mean. If they all turn out to be bonafide employees of the same detective agency, it will be somewhat of a help.”
Dallas grinned, and stopped because his lip hurt. “Maybe they were that dumb; I hope so. If they can make this assault charge stick, I’m out of a job.”
“And I’m out a fee,” Shapiro said. “You going to buy another round?”
When Dallas got home, he was glad he hadn’t been driving He was feeling no pain, other than the gripe of being hassled and the assorted lumps and cuts he’d picked up on the beach.
There was no note for him, but then the kids couldn’t have known what happened, not yet. He made a couple of sandwiches and tapered off on cold milk. Then he took another shower and hit the sack, checking once again to see that all the bugs were in place and connected. Setting the timer on his bedside radio, he drifted off to sleep, waking once when the music clicked off, and again sometime before dawn.
Sunday. He went through the early morning routine, and while he was making a bowl of ten-grain cereal, heard the news item on the radio. He was a celebrity, an infamous attacker of innocent men, a wild eyed radical, all “alleged,” of course. Monday was going to be a lot of fun, facing the principal again, if not the assembled school board in special meeting.
The phone rang. “You fucking commie; get outa’ town.”
The phone rang. “Hey, why don’t you go join a commune and leave decent people alone?”
The phone: “Dirty goddamned hippie; get outa’ town.”
Ring, ring: “Dallas Bradburn-I asked you to be sensible. Now see what you ye gotten yourself into, you and that violent temper.”
“Selena,” he said, “You didn’t even ask if I did it.”
When the phone rang again, he almost didn’t answer it, but thought that the guys monitoring his line expected it. He lifted the receiver. The guy said, “We’re with you, Mr. Bradburn. I mean, really with you; today, even.”
He said, “Thanks, friend. I know what you mean.”
And he knew where, which was a lot more important. The young voice had put emphasis in the right places. The communal pad would be a good place to get away from the harassing calls. As Dallas finished eating, the phone kept insisting for attention, but he ignored it.
Getting dressed, he wondered if all the callers were legitimate, or if Collins had a staff of bastard hired to grind him down. The big red-necked son of a bitch was going all out, that was for certain. He left the phone ringing and walked outside. There were no other cars in sight at the moment, but he didn’t doubt that private fuzz were lurking somewhere close.
Five blocks from home, a red light flashed in the VW’s rear window, and Dallas automatically pulled to the curb. It was driver’s license, registration and get out of the car, in that order.
“Put your hands on the car; spread your feet and move them back. You heard me jack. Right now!
They shook him down carefully, and one of them stood over him while another went through the car, taking a lot of time and trouble. The cop sounded disappointed when he said, “Clean.”
“You can go jack,” the other one said, dropping Dallas’s license and registration on the front seat.
“Thank you,” Dallas said, and they stared cold eyed at him for a long, tight moment before climbing back into the prowl car and roaring off.
Damn, he thought, the roust was on in earnest. If he so much as spit on the sidewalk, he could plan on being busted for it. They had been after any sign of grass, no matter how small. Since he wore long hair, it stood to reason that he also did pot, by their thought processes. But they had found nothing this time.
Next time, some cop not too choosy might plant some seeds, or as much as a bag.
It wouldn’t he all that tough to bust him, if enough of the police really wanted to. About all he could hope for was that a goodly percentage of the force was reasonably honest, and would leave him alone. Maybe some of them wouldn’t sit still for a raw frame, Dallas hoped to hell that was the case.
Carefully, watching his mirror, he drove across town and out to the beach road, turning swiftly when no other car was in sight behind him and moving back toward town. He pulled a couple of more tricks designed to shake any tail he might have acquired, and passed the woodsy turnoff twice before suddenly whipping into it. Even then, he parked for ten minutes beneath the spreading branches of an oak tree, waiting to see if anyone turned in behind him. When no car showed, or no too-casual stroller appeared, he drove a short way, turned the VW in a wide spot, and headed it back out for the main road. Then he walked in.
The back door eased soundlessly back when he put his hand out to it, so he ducked inside and stood in the house quietly, adjusting his eyes to the semi-dark.
They whispered around him, girl voices and boy voices. Hands led him into the living room, that small and remembered room where they had shown him his first orgy. The girls were all there, the four he knew so well-Susan and Blythe, Kathy and Angel. The regular boys were along, too-Joey and Marty and Eric.
Kathy said, “We heard about the bust. Did they keep you long?”
“Yeah,” Joey wanted to know, “and did they beat on you man?”
Dallas told them how it had been, giving them a quick and concise rundown on the hassle, too. He warned them not to bring anything to school, and asked if they’d set up a warning system among the kids to let him know when strangers were hanging around the school.
He sank back on the couch and stretched his legs Little Kathy sat down beside him, her hip pushing his; she put one arm around his neck. “I’m sorry, Dallas.
About my father, I mean… I wish he wasn’t such a bastard, but I don’t know what I can do about him.”
“You’re not your old man, Kathy,” lanky Marty Brooke said.
She touched Dallas’s cheek. “Poor guy, they’re really giving you a bad time.
We’ll do whatever we can about it, tomorrow. But right now, we’ll have us a little party, to take your mind off everything.”
“I had an idea it would be something like that,” he said. “But I didn’t see any more cars parked out back.”
Joey laughed. “We all came in one, to confuse the man. And It’s parked like a mile from here, just incase.”
Kathy leaned forward and kissed him, dipping her hot, sliding tongue in and out of his mouth. Then she jumped up and shucked out of her jeans and shirt. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath, no bra and no panties, and the sight of her finely textured, flawless skin was a gift to Dallas. He never tired of the sight of her small, naked body.
His eyes were growing accustomed to the dim lighting, and he saw Joey flick on a radio for cover sound. The boy said, “Every once in awhile, one of us will make a round, check outside to see if anything is happening. Just relax man.