Popped Off (2 page)

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Authors: Jeffrey Allen

BOOK: Popped Off
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2
“All the summer and fall registration fees,” Belinda said. “Gone.”
The girls were now chasing one another, the parents were chatting, and Belinda and I were sitting on the bottom of the bleachers.
“How is that possible?” I asked. “He just walked away with that much in cash?”
“The bank accounts are empty,” she said. “They were full on Tuesday. Before he disappeared.”
“Could be a coincidence.”
“And I could be a ballerina,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “It ain’t a coincidence, Deuce.”
No, it probably wasn’t a coincidence. She was right about that.
“Don’t you guys have some sort of control in place for that kind of thing?” I asked. “I mean, with the accounts. Multiple signatures or something like that?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Last year, when Moe was reelected, he demanded full oversight. The board didn’t like it, but he said he’d walk without it. So they gave it to him.”
“Why did he want it?”
“No clue.”
I spied Carly attaching herself to Julianne’s leg. She was crying. Carly, not Julianne. Crying had become common after soccer games, the result of too much sugar and some physical exertion. It was less about being upset with something and more about it just being time to get home.
“I want to hire you, Deuce,” she said. “We want to hire you. The board. To find him and the money. You and that little dwarf, or whatever he is.”
A smile formed on my lips. I wished Victor was there to hear her description of him.
“I’ll need to talk to Victor,” I told her. “The little dwarf. To make sure he’s okay with it.”
“You two got so much work you’re turning away business?”
As a matter of fact, we did. Or rather, Victor did. Since our initial escapade, people had been seeking us out left and right. My agreement with Victor allowed me the flexibility to work only when I wanted to. Fortunately, he’d been more than capable of handling most of the work and I’d been left alone to play Mr. Mom to Carly.
“No,” I said, attempting to be diplomatic. “But we don’t take anything on unless both of us agree.”
She thought about that for a moment, then nodded.
Then her stomach growled.
“There’s one more thing,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“We can’t pay you.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “That’s gonna be a problem, Belinda. The little dwarf likes money. He tends not to work without it.”
“I mean, we can’t pay you up front,” she clarified. “Everything we got, Moe took. You find him and the money, we’ll pay you whatever we owe you.”
I knew Victor was going to have a coronary over that.
“I’ll talk to Victor and see what I can do,” I said, standing.
She pushed her girth up off the bleachers, wobbled for a minute, then steadied herself. She wiped a massive hand across her wet brow.
“Well, I hope you can do something, Deuce,” she said, a sour expression settling on her face. “Because that money? That’s all we got. It doesn’t come back, soccer don’t come back.”
“Really?”
“We are totally fee driven. Nothing in reserve. So unless you wanna foot the bill for uniforms and trophies and field space and insurance and who the heck knows what else, we need that money.”
I glanced over at the remaining girls. Carly had detached herself from Julianne and was now playing some bastardized version of tag. Her team wasn’t very good at soccer, but that didn’t stop me from espousing the virtues of team sports at a young age. They weren’t winning games, but I believed they were getting something out of playing.
“Why would he take the money, Belinda?” I asked.
“I got no idea,” she said, shaking her head. “I really don’t, Deuce. But we gotta have the money back. Now him?” She waved a hand in the air. “I couldn’t care less whether that weasel comes back.”
“Weasel?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t know him all that well, do you?”
I shrugged. I knew him from around town and from soccer meetings. A little pompous, but other than that, I didn’t think much at all about him.
“No,” I admitted. “I guess not.”
“Weasel,” she said. “Pure weasel.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because that’s the way the good Lord made him,” she said, frowning. “Or Satan. Whichever.”
“So you aren’t surprised he took the money, then?” I asked.
“I’m a little surprised,” she said. “Because I didn’t think even he’d pull something like this. But you know what’s more surprising?”
I looked past her. Julianne now had Carly in her arms and was waving at me. I was ready to go home and be objectified.
“Uh, no. What’s more surprising?”
She hiked up her ill-fitting shorts and looked me dead in the eye.
“That no one’s killed that weasel yet.”
3
“You’re kidding, right?” I asked as I loaded the soccer gear into the back of the minivan. Julianne and Carly were already settled in their seats. “Why would anyone want to kill Huber?”
“I’m just sayin’,” Belinda said in between huffs and puffs, “he’s not the most liked fella around Rose Petal.”
“A lotta people aren’t the most liked, Belinda. That doesn’t mean they have a hit out on them.”
She shaded her eyes from the sun, a drop of sweat hanging from the tip of her nose. “Lotsa reasons. A biggie?” She leaned closer to me, and I tried not to shrink away. “He cheats at poker.”
“What?”
“Poker. He cheats.”
I closed the back of the minivan. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you play in one of them games? Where all you daddies get together and pretend to be manly and play poker?”
I did, in fact. Last Friday of every month. A tight group of friends, we rotated homes and played until the wee hours of the morning, drinking beer, making fun of one another, and taking each other’s money. It was less about the poker and more about the need to do some serious male bonding. Kind of like the kids and their soccer, but with more cursing and beer.
“Well, he used to play in a regular game,” Belinda said, “but they found out he was cheating. Kicked his butt out.”
“If it was anything like my game, you’re expected to cheat.”
She shook her head. “No. This was different. They played for stakes bigger than your daughter’s lunch money.” She nodded, as if confirming to herself what she was saying was true. “Ask around. You’ll find out.”
I knew that was true. Rose Petal wasn’t big, and nearly everyone knew something about someone else’s business. It was a fishbowl of sorts. And I had to admit as she was telling me this, I was surprised that I hadn’t heard some version of Huber’s cheating already.
“I’ll get back to you, Belinda,” I said, pulling the keys out of my pocket. “No promises, though. I have to talk to Victor first.”
“I’ll sit on him,” she said.
“Huh?”
“I’ll sit on that little man if that’s what it takes to get him to agree,” she said.
“I’ll pass that along.”
Belinda waddled away across the now empty parking lot, as everyone else had packed up and gone home. I slid into the driver’s seat, shoved the key into the ignition, and fired up the air-conditioning.
“She is a large woman,” Julianne said.
“And then some.”
“She wants you to look for the King?”
“Yes.”
“And you said?”
“That I had to talk with Victor first.”
I backed out of the stall and headed out of the lot. I glanced in the rearview mirror. Carly was red-faced, and her eyes were glazed over. She was exhausted. Which meant a nap was on the horizon. Which meant . . .
“We may get some alone time,” Julianne whispered.
“Was just thinking the same thing.”
“You sure you aren’t too tired, Coach?” She moved her hand and rested it on my thigh.
I smiled. “I’m so irresistible, aren’t I?”
She lifted her hand. “I just need you to make the next baby. You’re a conduit.”
I glanced at her, and she wore the smirk she always wore that put me in my place.
We were ready for another child. We’d relished the first five years alone with Carly, and we’d done that on purpose. She was our first, and we wanted to dote on her, give her as much attention as possible. And we wanted to be rested before the second one came along. Not that Carly was a tough kid—she wasn’t—but any child will wear you out as he or she goes from infancy to toddlerhood to kindergarten.
People looked at us a little strangely. In Rose Petal you were expected to follow one kid with another, and then maybe another, so that your house was filled with small people all under the age of five. But Julianne and I had stood our ground against the peer pressure and had stuck to our plan.
However, it was time to enact phase two of our plan. Which, you know, I was kinda looking forward to. I wasn’t going to mind if it took a while. Practice makes perfect.
I pointed the minivan in the direction of our home and tried to obey the speed limit. This was a hard thing to do, particularly when I saw Carly nod off in her car seat.
“She’s out,” I whispered.
“I know,” Julianne whispered back. Her smirk morphed into a smile, and my foot slammed harder on the accelerator.
I slowed down enough so as not to cause the van to go airborne as we pulled into the driveway, and eased it into the garage. I kept the engine running until the garage door was down behind us, then shut off the ignition. Carly wasn’t exactly a light sleeper, but she didn’t need a lot of encouragement to wake up, either.
“I’ll run her upstairs,” I said.
“I’ll be in the living room.”
“The living room?”
The smile grew devilish. “We can be a little . . . noisier in the living room.”
Oh, my. “I’ll meet you there.”
I managed to open the van doors, remove Carly from her seat, and get her into my arms without her stirring. I gave Julianne a thumbs-up, turned, and walked as quickly as I could into the house, up the stairs, and into her room. I laid her down on her bed and she squirmed a little, settling onto the blankets, but kept her eyes shut, smacking her lips.
I paused and smiled. It would be nice to have another of those. I liked being a dad. Even better, I loved being a dad who got to stay home with Carly, far more than I ever anticipated I would. Everyone had warned me that adding a second child to the mix might change my mind, but I was willing to take that chance.
If only because phase two sounded like so much fun.
I bounded down the stairs, careful to keep my footsteps light. I kicked off my sneakers, tossed my socks on top, and found Julianne stretched out on the sofa.
In black lingerie.
“Whoa,” I said.
The devilish smile returned. “Such a way with words.”
“Whoa,” I said again.
“Good thing I don’t need to be wooed.”
“I could try and woo you.”
“Come closer and whisper your woos in my ear.”
I leaned down and stretched out my body on top of hers, every synapse in me firing like pistons in a race car. I felt sorry for those men who got bored with their wives. Julianne was more attractive now than the day I met her, and every time she smiled at me, butterflies still took off in my stomach.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me, setting off fireworks inside my head. Our bodies meshed together, and I realized there was no possible way phase two could ever be overrated.
“Don’t you two have a bedroom?” a voice said from the entryway.
Julianne’s body stiffened beneath me, and the fireworks in my head disappeared, replaced by a gathering fury that could be brought on by just one person.
“Don’t stop on my account,” the voice said. “I’ll wait till you’re done.”
“What is he doing in here?” Julianne whispered, shrinking beneath me.
“I have no idea,” I said, resting my forehead against hers. “Do we have to stop?”
“Deuce!” Julianne said in my ear. “Do something!”
I sighed and swiveled my head in the direction of the other, unwelcome voice.
Victor Anthony Doolittle waved his tiny fingers at me.
Friggin’ midget.
4
I shooed Victor outside so Julianne could get out from beneath me and scamper upstairs to get dressed. I took a couple of deep breaths, clenched and unclenched my fists, and walked out to the front porch.
Victor was sitting on the bench swing, legs a foot off the ground, sipping a Dr Pepper.
“Really,” he said, grinning, “you didn’t have to stop on my account.”
“What the hell are you doing walking into my house uninvited?”
He shrugged. “I knocked. You didn’t answer. I walked around back. Back door was open. I was thirsty.” He shrugged his shoulders again. “I was gonna walk back out, but then I saw you and the luscious missus about to get down and dirty, and . . . I musta forgot to walk out.” He smiled and bounced his eyebrows.
“Do not walk into my home uninvited again. Ever,” I said, leaning against the wooden railing that encircled the porch. “Got it?”
He rolled his eyes. “Settle down, Kareem. No way I was gonna stand there and watch you get naked.”
“Ever.”
His eyes widened, like he couldn’t figure out why I was so angry. “Fine. But you should lock your doors, pal.”
My fists tightened into balls, something that happened quite frequently when I was around Victor Anthony Doolittle. Every time I saw him, I contemplated ending our little partnership.
Pun intended.
I took a deep breath. “Why are you here?”
“I need a reason?”
“Absolutely. And most of the time, that isn’t enough.”
“You’re starting to hurt my feelings.”
“Like you have feelings.”
He held the soda can to his lips. “Good point.” He tilted his head back, emptied the can, and ripped off a huge belch, crumpling the can in his fat little hand. “I got a call.”
“A call?”
“Some woman about some soccer guy? Said she spoke to you?”
I should’ve known Belinda wouldn’t wait. “Belinda.”
“That’s it, Kareem. Yeah, Belinda. What’s the deal?”
I explained what Belinda told me about Huber.
Victor took that in and made a noncommittal face. “Doesn’t sound that complicated. Doubt he’d be hard to find.”
“Probably not,” I agreed.
“Any reason we shouldn’t do it?”
“The fact that working with you makes me wanna vomit?”
“Again. The feelings.”
“You said you don’t have any.”
“Oh. Right. So maybe just stop being a jerk, then.”
“Where do you get jeans that small? The Children’s Place?”
His face flushed and I smiled. He could pretend all he wanted, but cracks about his size always produced a rise. Which almost made it worth him showing up.
“Ha-ha, Kareem,” he said, struggling down from the swing and setting his feet on the porch. He was barely bigger than Carly, even with the fedora on his bald head. “Okay. You wanna tell her we’ll take it, or you want me to call her?”
“You sure you wanna do it?”
“Sure. Seems like a piece of cake.”
“You tell her what our rate is?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“And she said?”
“No problem.”
I laughed. “She doesn’t have any money, Victor.”
“Excuse me?”
“Huber took all the money. Literally all of it. She wants to pay us when we find him.
If
we find him. And the money.”
“Well, forget that,” he said, waving a dismissive hand in the air, his facial features scrunching up with irritation. “That ain’t gonna fly.”
“Oh, it’s gonna fly, Victor,” Julianne said, stepping through the screen door and out onto the porch, a T-shirt and shorts now hiding the lingerie. “It’s gonna fly.”
Victor quickly removed his hat and cupped it to his stomach. “Well, hello, Julianne.”
He’d had a crush on her since the moment he’d laid eyes on her, and while it annoyed the crap out of me, I’d been willing to leverage that on several occasions, as had Julianne. He was hard to ruffle, but he came undone anytime she was around.
“Hello, Victor,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “It’ll fly. You’re taking the case.”
“Ma’am?”
“I’m not your mama, so don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “You and Deuce are going to help Belinda.”
“We are?” Victor said.
“We are?” I repeated.
She glanced at me, a warning to keep my mouth shut, then moved her gaze back to Victor. “Yes. You are.”
“But if she can’t pay, then . . .”
“Carly plays in that soccer league, and while I think it just might be the dumbest thing on this planet to chase around a ball, kicking it into some oversize net, she loves it,” Julianne explained. “I mean, she lives for it. And if Mr. Huber took all that money and doesn’t come back, she isn’t going to get to play. And that will make me very unhappy. Do you understand, Victor?”
His cheeks flushed. “Well, yes, ma’am, but—”
“Seriously, honey, if you call me ma’am again, I will break one of your itty-bitty fingers,” she said, smiling much the way I imagined pit vipers might smile if they could smile.
His cheeks went from pink to red. “Okay . . . Julianne. But if she can’t pay—”
“Victor, honestly,” she said, cutting him off again. “You just saw me almost naked. Isn’t that payment enough?”
I brought a hand to my mouth to hide a smile.
“And I’m sure you can understand how upset I am that not only were you in my house without permission, but you also interrupted my afternoon with my husband,” she continued. “You got to see me in my underwear, but I didn’t really get what I wanted.”
“Yeah, that’s—” I started.
“Shut it, Deuce,” she said, without looking at me. “So don’t you see, Victor? You owe me.”
“I do?” he asked.
“Oh, most definitely. So as payment, I would like for you and Deuce to help Belinda.” The pit viper smiled again. “Because otherwise, I will be very, very angry with you. And I don’t think you want that.”
Victor’s mouth tightened into a knotted swirl, and he stared down at the hat in his hands. He shifted his feet against the porch. Finally, he set the hat back on his head.
“Okay,” he said. “We’ll do it.”
Julianne clapped her hands together. “Excellent! I knew you’d see it my way.”
Victor nodded, then shook his head like he wasn’t sure what had just happened.
I knew the feeling.
“I’ll call you,” he said, stepping past me and heading down the steps to the sidewalk.
“Oh, and, Victor?” Julianne called, stepping over to the railing.
He stopped and turned around. “Yeah?”
“If you tell anyone that you saw me in my undies, I will stick my fingers so far into your eyes, you’ll never see anything ever again.” A wide smile settled onto her face. “Okay, sweetie?”
He pursed his lips and nodded his head before getting into his car and driving off.

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