Tasker timed the throbbing in his head and let out a quick “Thanks.”
“You’ll be sore for a week. That was some tumble you took. Next time you two are fishing, you should ride in the truck’s cab.”
“Will do,” managed Tasker.
“Nothing’s broken, but I want you in bed for at least five days. Understood?”
Tasker nodded.
“Why don’t I believe you?” The doctor looked at Sutter, standing silently in the corner of the small walk-in clinic’s main exam room. “Like I don’t believe the fishing story. But my job is to patch up, not lecture.”
Sutter said, “Good plan.” He handed the man a stack of twenties. “We gotta boogie.”
“Let me get his prescriptions and give this to the cashier,” the doctor said, as he ambled out of the room.
Sutter quickly turned to his partner. “Tell me again why we didn’t go to Jackson and you claim worker’s comp?”
“No time. They’d have me on my back for a week.”
“Like this guy wants.”
“And I will. After we find out what the fuck is going on and grab Daniel Wells.” Tasker looked at him. “And these twenties came from where?”
“Your front pocket.”
“Derrick, that was evidence.”
Sutter nodded his head. “So, when you bend the rules and don’t use worker’s comp and lie to a doctor, it’s to save time. When I do something like that, it’s ‘destroying evidence.’ ”
Tasker’s eyes bulged of their own will. “It is destroying evidence.” They sat in silence a few seconds. Tasker realized these were extraordinary times. “Okay, what do you think we should do next?”
“Let’s go talk to Bolini and figure out what the damn FBI is up to.”
“Not if we’re just fishing. We need some proof.”
“This feels too damn close to the business with Dooley. Fuckin’ Bureau causing shit, and we got our thumbs up our ass.”
Tasker winced as he pulled his shirt up to look at his bruised ribs. Along with the twenty-seven stitches he’d just received in three different places, his legs had a few good patches of road rash, his left arm was turning blue with bruises and he thought one of his teeth felt funny. “We’ve gotta tie up the loose ends.” He slid off the examining table.
Sutter put his hand on Tasker’s tender shoulder. “I know exactly how to tie up the FBI loose ends.”
Jimmy Lail snatched his phone off the front seat on the first ring. “Yo,” he almost shouted. He’d been in a foul mood since Camy had stopped answering her phone. That’s why he was shocked to hear her voice.
“Hey, baby. Sorry I was such a bitch earlier.”
Jimmy smiled. “You da bomb, baby.”
“You wanna come over?”
“When?”
“I’ll be home in an hour. Don’t work out, you’ll need your strength.”
The smile spread across his face. “You got it, baby. I gotta swing by my crib and shower.”
“You may want to wait on that, too.” Her voice had none of the defiance she’d shown the past few weeks.
Now his erection swelled as fast as his smile. “Whatever you say.” He vaguely heard her say goodbye, then tossed the phone back on the front seat. He’d show her what goin’ all night really meant. Some good lovin’ would go a long way to straightening out that attitude she’d had for a few weeks. She’d beg him not to leave. He reached down and cranked NWA until his windows shook.
Just after nightfall, he rolled down Camy’s street in the way-too-white-bread development she lived in. The upstairs was dark and a few lights were on in the rear of the downstairs. Jimmy parked in the driveway, something she normally didn’t approve of. In fact, she usually liked him to park a house or two down. She said it was her old-fashioned streak. She didn’t want the neighbors to think she allowed men to spend the night.
He knocked on the front door and it flew open almost instantly.
All he could do was stare and say, “Wow.”
“Like it?” She laid on her Dixie drawl and smiled.
He nodded, taking her in his arms. The sheer material of the tiny pink teddy smelled like lilac. She bit him on the neck playfully and took his hand, leading him through the living room to what was normally the guest bedroom downstairs. They had done it in there before, rattling the huge brass bed frame and tilting the mirror on the vanity to watch themselves.
Once in the room, she turned and whispered in his ear, “Let’s get dirty tonight.”
“Anything you want, baby.”
She winked and pulled a matching pink teddy from the dresser near the small bathroom.
“Really?” This was new.
She held it up to him and nodded vigorously. Then she pulled out some handcuffs.
That wasn’t too unusual. He shrugged and started to yank off his shirt.
Camy turned him toward the bathroom and said, “Come out ready. I wanna be surprised.” Then she gently shoved him toward the open door.
Inside he flipped the light switch, turning on the bright, clear lights around the mirror. He held the teddy up to the mirror and shook his head. If it made her wild, why not. Even though he’d rather just do it, sleep an hour and do it again. He slipped out of his street clothes and had to survey himself naked for a few moments, then dropped the teddy over his head. It looked miniscule but had amazing stretch capabilities. He pulled it down but was unable to button the crotch over his genitals. What did it matter? He checked himself in the mirror again, then, satisfied, he shut off the lights and made his entrance.
“Look at you,” said Camy from a sprawled position on the queen-sized bed. She patted the mattress. “C’mon, stud.”
He bounded into the bed and grabbed her, trying to un-snap the teddy immediately.
“Hang on there, big fella.” She stroked his rising erection. “Let’s do it right.” She pulled the handcuffs off the small table next to the bed.
“If that’s what you want.” He obligingly stretched out his arms and allowed Camy to run the cuffs through the brass frame and secure his hands.
“That’s a little tight, baby.”
She smiled. “That’s not all that’s tight.”
He felt his breath get short as she slipped off the bed and made a show of walking around the bed. She went back to the dresser and retrieved two sets of leg chains.
“Where’d you get those?”
“Amazing what being nice to the Marshals will get you.” She casually strung one set on each side of the foot of the bed frame, then walked to the bathroom. A couple of seconds later, she walked out with two washcloths. She folded one and placed it inside the metal cuff on the leg chain, then secured his right ankle. The cloth made the tight cuff comfortable. He sighed as she did the same to his left leg.
“Try it,” she said as she gazed at his toned body, spreadeagled on the bed. The pink teddy stretched to its seams around his chest, the white, puffy frills on the shoulders brushing his nose.
He pulled his hands, then each leg, and said, “Baby, that’s tight. Now let’s get dirty.”
She ran a hand down his chest. “You bet, baby,” she purred. Then she walked to the door to the family room and opened it a crack. She walked back toward the bathroom, flicking on the overhead light in the ceiling fan. The room was suddenly lit up like a classroom.
Jimmy squeezed his eyes shut. “Baby, I know you like to see me, but that’s a little bright.” Behind his closed eyelids, he saw a brighter flash and opened his eyes. Two men in bedsheets with pillowcases over their heads like old-time Klansmen stood at the foot of the bed. One had a camera in his hand. He shot another picture, and the flash blinked.
Each man had holes cut out of the pillowcases. One man fumbled with the case to get a better view. Camy remained motionless by the bathroom door, still in the see-through teddy. The broader of the two men, the one without the camera, pulled a slender three-foot baseball bat from behind his back. He slapped it in his hand. Jimmy could read the Fish Billy logo on the handle and knew it was used to club hooked game fish. A chill ran down his back and he felt his bowels loosen.