ROLL CALL ~ A Prison List (True Prison Story) (23 page)

I was in the very back of the establishment at a pool table. Natasha walked in like a sexy gazelle with those long legs. She had black stiletto heels with those straps that wrap up the ankles. When I got past those, I made it to her mini skirt that was impossibly high. That’s as high as I got. She stood in front of me waiting impatiently to look her in the eyes. When I did she gave me an irritated kiss and a hug and let me have it. “Can’t you stop looking at my body and look into my eyes?”

She stood there with one leg kicked out and her hand on a hip and I just wanted to lift her onto the pool table and wrap her legs around me. I wanted to tell her that but stumbled and threw my hands in the air. “You’re torturing me dressed like that! It wouldn’t even matter if you were dressed in a business suit or sweats… I’d still be looking at your hips and ass swishing and dancing back and forth…”

I wanted to tell her it was her fault for wearing that outfit and would she just go ahead and sit on my face and wiggle around a little? Instead, I said, “I want you.”

Natasha threw her other leg out in an even sexier pose the other way and said, “You just want my body… Not me!”

I shook my head no as fast as I said, “No, no, no, no, no… That’s not it at all. I just want to love your body so good that I can get you to stay with me, and be my girlfriend.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I hated myself.

It did seem to work though. I saw that coy happy smile she blessed me with on occasion. Like I was penetrating her heart but she was scared to let that happen. So far she was a closed book to me. As fast as that coy smile came it went and she changed the subject.

She looked around and said, “Where is it?”

I’d told her on the phone I’d have an Elle magazine with five baggies of speed taped to pages inside it so the transaction wouldn’t be awkward. She zeroed in on it sitting on a chair and grabbed it. My mind instantly tried to tell me she was using me to get the speed! The rational part of my mind admitted that didn’t make sense because I’d tried to give her discounts that she wouldn’t accept. She told me I needed the money more since she had a house to live in and I was bouncing around. She walked out of the pool hall and I stared at her ass dancing the whole time.

CHAPTER 56

I went back to Paul’s and noticed his black Mustang was gone. I went to the front door and his girlfriend Gina answered. She welcomed me inside and I sat down on the couch. She went to the kitchen. Gina and I had never really talked, just in greetings. It was all very respectful and cordial. Gina finished up in the kitchen and brought me a couple of tacos.

As she handed me the plate she said, “Thanks for hooking us up with that dryer. I was so sick of going to the laundromat! It’s creepy to put your clothes in something so public.”

I laughed and asked, “Did you put only Paul’s stuff in there?”

Gina smiled and nodded her head. “Pretty much.”

I felt like asking where Paul was but held off until I could figure out a way. Gina sat down and shuffled a deck of tarot cards and I thought of something. “Why aren’t you eating?”

Gina said, “I ate some while I was getting it ready. I’ll eat some more when Paul gets back from the harbor.”

I saw my opportunity to get in where I fit in. “What’s Paul doing in the harbor, working on his boat?”

“He’s meeting Bob to pick up more of that…”

Gina looked up at me like she’d said too much. She studied my reaction and might have noticed my eyes take on that focused look I seemed to have twentyfour/ seven these days. I ate my tacos a little faster and wondered if Paul was bringing Bob here. Maybe the tacos were for them to. “Did Paul say he was bringing Bob here?”

Gina stopped shuffling the cards, looked at me and shook her head no. “I don’t think so… He never brings him here… Plus, I think Bob has to get back to San Bernardino.”

I finished the last of my taco and furiously thought about where in the harbor they would be meeting. It must be his boat. I asked, “Where is Paul’s slip for his boat?”

The question confused Gina and I remembered why. Last week, Paul had fed Gina a little white lie that we’d gone shark fishing all night while we were really at the bowling alley. Now that lie was going to bite him in the ass unless I covered for him.

Gina said, “His boat is over by that tiny beach on the north end of the harbor. It’s the first set of slips to the south… But you should know that… Weren’t you there with Paul last week?”

“I was there last week when we went shark fishing… but it was dark and I wasn’t paying attention.” That sounded lame to my own ears. I couldn’t think of anything else to say to fill the awkward silence so I got up with my plate and walked it into the kitchen.

At the sink I said, “Thanks for the tacos, they were delicious.”

Gina said, “Your welcome.”

I thought of something. I had a mental picture of the harbor in my head and focused on where that tiny beach was and knew the slips to the south of it had five rows. I had to figure out which slip Paul’s boat was in. “I remember now. It’s in the second slip isn’t it?”

Gina helped my cause. “It’s in the third slip, like three or four boats down.”

She hesitated like she was having a hard time believing I couldn’t remember where the boat was… “It must have been dark that night. Do you even remember what his boat looks like?”

I had seen Paul’s boat at his friend’s house while it was getting serviced. “Yeah, I’ve got that part. It’s the Viking. I’m just unbelievably bad with my sense of direction in a car, especially when I’m the passenger, but sometimes even when I’m driving and being told where to go. I daydream, or try to problem solve stuff instead of paying attention to directions. Do you think that’s an indication of A.D.D.?”

This was partially true. Unless I was driving extremely fast to the point I had to solely concentrate on driving my mind was the one running. Right now my mind was running on how to find Paul with Bob.

I thanked Gina again for the tacos and headed for the door. I could feel Gina’s trepidation that I was planning to impose on Paul and the kingpin’s time.

Right when I got to the door she asked me, “Are you going to the harbor?”

“I have to. Paul forgot something.”

Gina got up and stood there with her hands on her hips. “I’m sure if he needs you he’ll call you!”

I felt the adrenaline rush that came with going on a mission and the way my brain clicked a little faster. “Paul will thank me later, trust me.”

Gina fired back with what must have been Paul’s reasoning. “What if you scare Bob off and he stops dealing with Paul?”

I was offended at the implication and jack hammered back. “Paul’s my partner! He should be building me up! If Bob is a kingpin, Paul should be telling him his partner is a mastermind and a money machine! He should be telling him I’m tightening up the ship down here where all of the money is at. Remember, money talks and bull shit walks… Once Paul builds me up right, I’ll handle the rest.”

I patted my pockets to make sure my keys were there and watched Gina try a stall tactic. She patted the couch next to her and pointed to the tarot cards. “Sit down first for a reading. Let’s see what your future holds…”

I thought about it. My Mom had always told me psychic readings and stuff like that were from the dark side and the work of the devil to pull you away from God. I knew I wasn’t doing God’s work but I still didn’t want any readings so I crossed myself and responded, “I make my own future and my conscience is my guide.”

I closed the door and left Gina to try and work through all of the contradictions.

CHAPTER 57

I drove to the Dana Point harbor with a mental map of it and everything Paul had said about it. The south entrance was about a mile away from the north entrance. On the south side the harbor patrol had a section for their station. Paul had a healthy respect and fear of the harbor patrol. He’d also said that the Sheriffs and undercover task forces met on that side for meetings to coordinate raids. Paul wasn’t going to meet Bob on that side of the harbor.

I drove my Chevy S-10 down P.C.H. to enter the north end of the harbor. The street fronted a cliff that had a row of mansions on the right hand side and the Chart House on the left hanging over a cliff. The Chart House was packed with frenzied activity. Valet parkers wearing tuxedos rushed to cars. Other greeters in tuxedos ushered throngs of party goers inside. Driving by, I noticed how everyone was dressed and realized it was a wedding party. I really wanted to use their balcony on the cliff to post up with the binoculars I had to scope the parking lot down below for Paul’s slip. Paul’s slip was only a good golf shot away. As I was parking, I realized the black tank top I was wearing would have been a major fashion faux pas and found a black pullover collared golf shirt I had behind my seat. I parked a couple hundred yards away in the first available spot, put on the shirt and hustled my way into the throng of people.

The throng of people looked to be telling the greeters in tuxedos which group they were with. The greeters had a list! I didn’t want to try and adopt a group so I branched off once the greeter in my path was busy. I adopted the hesitation is confrontation attitude. I tried to look like I already had a group in there and just came out for a smoke or phone call. I had a cigarette in my mouth and a phone in my hand anyway. I threw the cigarette right as a greeter looked at me and pretended to talk into the cell phone. It worked.

The outside deck was packed and every seat was taken. People were taking pictures all over the place and a lot of them were taking them at the chest high glass wall overlooking the ocean at the edge of the cliff. I squeezed my way through it all until I was at the furthest point over the cliff against the glass wall and pulled out my binoculars to study the street below.

That tiny beach was right below and I studied the parking lot for a black Mustang. It wasn’t there. The slip for Paul’s boat was right next to it so I studied that parking lot. It wasn’t there, either, but I noticed that to use that parking lot you needed a key card. I scanned further south until my vision was interrupted by some S-turns. I imagined what I was missing. The S-turns finished turning and gave you the choice of taking a right onto a bridge that cut through the middle of the harbor to the outside edge of it, or continuing to the north end of the harbor. Since I’d discounted the north end of the harbor as an option I trained the binoculars on what I could see of the bridge. It ended at a T. I could see a little ways to the left and remembered there was a bathroom that would be discreet enough to meet and weigh product.

I almost took off on that impulse until I remembered how close that bathroom was to the harbor patrol headquarters. I looked the other way from the T to the north and couldn’t see much with all of the yachts in the way of the road. I imagined that part of the harbor. There was another large parking lot for boat owners that you needed a key card to get into. Even if Paul had a key card there wasn’t anywhere to do a deal. Further down the road it dead ended into another nice restaurant. It was similar in nature to the Chart House with valet parkers and greeters so I couldn’t see Paul over there either.

It was starting to get uncomfortable standing there with binoculars glued to my face all gacked out in the middle of a wedding party. I looked around and noticed someone pointing at me and whispering into another’s ear. I took a step away and looked around. A few other people seemed curious about me and how I fit into the wedding party. Right when I was about to leave and try to find Paul in my truck I heard a deep throaty exhaust reverberating up the hill. It sounded exactly like Paul’s Mustang so I trained the binoculars back at the road below. I scanned the road as far into the S-turns as possible and a few seconds later Paul’s black Mustang appeared.

Right behind the Mustang was a blue old-school Chevy truck that looked like it had been restored. I studied the driver and the first thing I noticed was the irritated look he had on his face. I was guessing from how much of a scene Paul was with that exhaust. Bob had blond hair in a crew cut and looked like he could pass for a marine. I tried to determine what kind of heritage he came from, German, Irish, or maybe even something Slavic. He looked stocky with a blocky face and under six feet. Paul circled through the marine institute at the furthest point of the north end of the harbor and rolled down his window to explain something to Bob in the parking lot. Then they drove out of the parking lot and back towards me on the cliff watching. They went under me and Paul turned into the parking lot for his boat.

Paul pulled up to the mechanical arm and placed his key card in. The mechanical arm flipped up and the spike strip laid down. Paul pulled his key card out and placed it on top of the key card box. He raced through just before the spike strip popped back up and the mechanical arm swung down, both narrowly missing the Mustang. Bob went next. Again, I held my impulse to rush down there. How was I going to make such a bold entrance go down smoothly? I scanned with the binoculars along the path Paul and Bob were walking and fate intervened.

I noticed a man and a woman studying Paul and Bob intently. It looked like they noticed how they had just shared the same key card. I saw the man pull his phone out. Paul and Bob walked to the boat and didn’t notice the curious older couple behind them watching which boat they were headed to.