“What do you mean, bratty?”
“You know. The attitude you gave your parents before you ran away. Shrugs. Looks at the floor. Pouts. Lies. Telling them they don’t know or don’t understand. That attitude won’t fly with me. If our relationship is gonna work, we’ll do it with straight talk. No meanness for meanness sake. We’re equals. We’ll talk that way. I hold nothing back. You hold nothing back. You game or do you want to skip lunch and hit the streets looking for a guy who only wants to get in your pants or to get you in his? That’s not me. I wanna get in your head. Decide now, before we order.”
She looked down a moment, then lifted her head and looked directly at Axel. “I’m in.”
“No rebellious teenager?”
“I don’t think you’re a very nice man, Axel. What kind of a name is Axel anyway?”
“Your name is Hildegard and you’re judging my name?” Hillie smiled. “Now that’s better,” Axel said. “And, by the way, my being a nice man was neither part of what you offered on the street nor what I accepted. I’m the boss. That means I can be a nice man or not. You’re free to form your own opinion but keep it to yourself. Last warning, if you can’t handle it, storm back out onto the street where you’ll go hungry, work harder, likely make less, and feel crummy doing it. This here’s fish or cut bait time, girly.”
Hillie opened her menu. Axel didn’t need the menu. He knew it by heart.
After a few minutes, Mackie, an average-sized man of around sixty, with a gut that allowed his belt buckle to live in the shade, came from behind the bar and stopped at their table. “What’ll it be, Axel?”
“First, say hello to my new friend. This is Hildegard. Her friends, which she has temporarily allowed me to be, call her Hillie.”
“Hi, Hillie. Welcome. My friends call me Mackie and if you’re Axel’s friend, you’re my friend.”
“Hi, Mackie. I’m pleased to know you.”
“One tip, don’t play checkers with this old scruffer. He cheats.”
“Axel,” Hillie looked shocked. “I’m getting a different impression of you now.”
“I wouldn’t cheat if Mackie played an honorable game like chess.” Hillie perked up when she heard Axel say that. “Do you play?” he asked. She nodded. “You any good?”
“Probably not any more, I used to play with my dad, after school at his office.”
“Let me turn that blind some,” Mackie said, “get the sun out of your eyes.” He walked over to the window.
“Seriously, do you like to play chess?”
“Love it. I used to anyway.”
“Wanna play now?”
“It’s your two hours, remember? You’re the boss,” Hillie said, sipping the water Mackie had brought to the table.
“No. Chess is an honorable game. Nobody is forced to play chess. At least they shouldn’t be. Only if you want to.”
“I’d love to play, Axel. It’d be like old times, but where?”
“Right here. Mackie’s got board games.” Axel looked over to Mackie who was back behind the bar and wiggled his hand in their form of visual shorthand.
A moment later, he brought over a chessboard and the pieces. “You two gonna order now or wait till after your game?”
“Now,” Axel said, “the lady is hungry. We’ll get started then finish after we eat.”
Hillie ordered a bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich and Axel ordered a crab louie.
“Do you want your BL amp;T Axel style or traditional?”
Hillie looked at both men. “What’s Axel style?”
“With chunky peanut butter,” Mackie said, “rather than mayo or any other spreads.” Hillie nodded and smiled. Mackie smiled back and then said, “Sweet tea for both of you?” Hillie looked unsure what that was. Mackie explained. “It’s a Southern name for iced tea sweetened.”
“Yes, please,” Hillie said. Axel nodded. Mackie left.
“Mackie has hard hands, but a big soft smile,” Hillie said. “He seems to be a friendly man.”
Axel smiled and nodded. “Okay, Hillie,” he said. “Our food won’t be here for about ten to fifteen minutes. We can get a good start on the game.” They set up the pieces and Axel put one pawn of each color in each of his hands while he held them below the table.
Before Hillie picked one to start their game, she asked, “Is there anything you want to say to me before we start our game?”
“You wear way too much eye makeup. It cheapens you and you’re too pretty to do that to your eyes.” Hillie said nothing, just pointed toward Axel’s right hand. He opened it to reveal a white pawn. She moved the center piece from her front line forward one space to start the game.
After eight or ten moves apiece, Mackie brought their food. He looked at the board and smiled. “I see you got yourself in a real match, Axel. I think the little lady has an edge at the moment.”
“Whatdaya know, Mack? Get out of here and leave us alone.” When he left, Axel turned to Hillie. “While we eat, I want your life history. Where you were born. A fair bit about each of your parents and brothers and sisters. Then why you dropped out of school. Not the reason you told your friends back home, but the reason you kept to yourself. Why you ran away. I figure you’re what, seventeen, eighteen?” She nodded when Axel said eighteen. “You got through the eleventh grade maybe?” She nodded again. “You’re no dummy, that’s obvious. So I want the why. Remember our agreement.” Hillie nodded. “Okay, let’s have it. Pull no punches. Tell it straight.”
Chapter 8
By late afternoon, I was knocking on General Whittaker’s front door. Charles opened it and led me into the study. On the way, I glanced up the stairwell. Karen Whittaker was neither favoring the banister nor me. When I entered, the general was watching one of his family VCRs. He pointed out his son, Ben, who had died in the engagement known as Desert Storm, and Eddie as a small boy. He used the remote to turn it off, put the tape back in its container and that onto the shelf.
“Well, you didn’t come to watch an old man wallowing in family pictures. Do you have a report for me?”
“General. I lost a good part of today learning a big piece of this story that you didn’t bother to tell me. The witnesses against Eddie were paid, so it figures his alibi was also bought. For the alibi, I figure you were the buyer. Wasting my time hurts both of us.”
“Sit down. I see you didn’t wear a tie today. I like the look.”
“Folksy doesn’t fit you, General. Why didn’t you tell me that you paid someone to get Eddie released?”
“Well, Mr. Kile. You are a resourceful man. The police never learned what you have in the first day.”
“Whom did you pay? How much? Why?”
“The why is easy. Eddie’s innocent.”
“That dog don’t hunt, General. To some degree you’re questioning his innocence or I wouldn’t be here. So, why am I here?”
“Like I told you. I’m coming to the end of my time. I need to know, absolutely know. I always have believed him innocent and nothing has happened to change that belief. But I don’t want to meet my maker while I’m still pushing away any doubt at all.”
“Okay, that’s why, but what about whom?” I repeated, “And how much?”
“The who, I don’t know. How much, two million.”
“Before or after Eddie was released?”
“After. I refused to pay until she-”
“She?”
“It was a woman who called me to make the offer and arrange the payoff drop. On some level, the voice seemed familiar. I keep rerunning that voice in my mind, but I’ve never been able to place it. It stays just beyond reach.”
“Okay. You were saying?”
“I refused to pay until she proved she could get Eddie released and the charges dropped. She agreed, telling me that Eddie would not live a week if I didn’t pay.”
“Where and how did you pay?”
“She instructed me to contact my bank immediately after Eddie’s release to assure they had time to configure the money the way she demanded. I was to pick it up near closing time on the Friday after Eddie had been released with the charges dropped. I was to speak only with my personal banker and not disclose why I wanted the money. The fact that Eddie had been released had been in all the papers so the bank apparently didn’t connect my wanting the money with his predicament. The cash had to be in unmarked bills. She insisted that half of it be in hundreds, the rest in twenties, and nothing smaller, no fifties. I was told that if the bills were marked, Eddie would die. I was instructed to go and get the money alone. Apparently, she didn’t want any younger men with me. I still drove then. Not often, but it wasn’t a problem.”