Senile Squad: Adventures of the Old Blues (27 page)

Jeff spotted the walker with its little red button. “Not if you don’t come back.”

“Smart guy,” George said.

George gazed around the apartment. “You could definitely do more cleaning so everything doesn’t fall on Nicki.”

“How do you know—” Jeff stopped himself from asking how he knew his wife’s name, but decided to sit quietly and hope they left soon.

“Look at us, young man,” George said. “We’ve all been where you are: young, trying to provide for your family and all the pain and frustration that goes with it. You’ll pull through this but you’ve got to let your wife help. She’s very gifted at what she does and eventually you two will have a wonderful life together. But you’ve got to pull it together, man. You understand?”

Jeff ’s head throbbed and he looked at the darts still hanging on him. “Yes, I do.”

George nodded and the big man gathered up the walker. “We’re leaving now but we’ll be back if things don’t change,” he pointed at Jeff to emphasize his point, “for the better.”

The big man walked up to Jeff. He flinched and turned his head. “Don’t worry,” he said, “this will only sting a little.”

He grabbed the darts and plucked each one out of Jeff ’s upper chest and stomach. The first one hurt. “Ow! That’s more than a little.”

“Sorry kid,” he said and took a step back.

The big man pocketed the darts and turned the man in the wheelchair toward the front door. George put his hand up. “Wait.”

The man pushing turned him around to face Jeff. “If I ever hear so much as a peep about you touching Nicki in anything but a loving manner—you ever hurt her in anyway, we’ll be back and those electrical darts? That’ll be nothing compared to what we’ll do.”

Jeff swallowed hard. He didn’t know who they were, but they came off like a white-haired SWAT team. They actually scared the crap out of him!

The door swung open and two little girls clambered through followed by Harry who looked more than a little frazzled. “Chelsea and Joy wanted to come up for a snack,” he said.

“Hi,” Chelsea said with a bright-eyed smile.

Jeff watched the men who’d terrified and threatened him moments earlier melt into a puddle of grandfatherly love.

“Well, hello there,” George said. “Aren’t you two the cutest I’ve ever seen?”

“Wow,” Joy said and bounded up to George. “Three kid’s grandpas!”

Smiles lit each man’s face.

“What are you doing here?” Chelsea asked.

George’s smile widened. “Oh I’m just an old grandpa and I got confused. I thought this was where a friend lives but it’s not. When you get older, sometimes you forget; I’m sorry.”

The girls beamed at the visitors. “That’s okay,” Joy said. “Right, Daddy?”

The men all turned a threatening look at Jeff. Message received loud and clear. “That’s right, baby. Daddy was just showing them out.”

George waved at the children. “But we did give your daddy a little direction of our own.”

George glanced up at Jeff. “Maybe we’ll see each other again.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Jeff answered.

“Good.”

The three men left the apartment without another word.

Jeff watched them from the living room window. He lost sight of them once they left the park. His mind whirled trying to make sense of what had just occurred.

“I’m hungry, Daddy,” little Chelsea said.

“I’ll get the cereal,” Joy said.

Jeff watched his small children moving around the kitchen and a wave of shame hit him. What had he been thinking, let alone doing? The old men were right—on all counts.

“Wait a minute,” he said to his daughters. “How about Daddy makes some pancakes?”

The girl’s eyes widened and they smiled at one another. “Yeah!” each one said with a giggle and bounced up and down.

Jeff had forgotten how good it felt to do what was right. He twirled his fingers in Chelsea’s silky hair. “Who wants theirs in a heart shape?”

Still bouncing around the kitchen, each girl raised her hand. “Me!”

“Me!”

Giggles trilled through the apartment.

Jeff gathered the ingredients and put each one on the counter.

“I didn’t know Daddy could make pancakes,” Chelsea said to her older sister.

“Daddy hasn’t made pancakes in a long time.”

ABRAHIM’S PROBATION OFFICER SHOT THE YOUNG MAN A sharp look over the reading glasses perched at the end of his nose. “Why are you so interested in volunteering at the police officers’ retirement home?”

“I enjoyed our last outing,” Abrahim lied smoothly. “Those old men are cooler than you think.”

The PO’s stare intensified. “Seriously? Since when are police officers cool?”

“Since I spent time with ’em.” Abrahim met the PO’s direct gaze with one he’d perfected a long time ago. One that until recently had gotten him out of more scrapes than he had fingers and toes.

The PO shifted in his seat behind a desk piled with too many files. “Not saying I believe you,” he said, “but it’s a great way to work off your community service. If you mind your manners, it could get you off probation a little sooner.”

The PO directed what Abrahim thought was supposed to be a stern look. Didn’t make it; it only made the PO seem like a jerk.

“Kind of odd that this struck you so suddenly when you hardly did anything for the four months before.”

Abrahim shrugged off the suggestion, “My mom wants me off probation, she’s always nagging me about it.” He pasted on a wide smile that he definitely didn’t feel. “’Sides,” he said, “I kinda liked taking ’em out and working with them. I thought if I could do it some more, it would help us both.” The fabrication slid off his tongue smooth as hot butter. He hoped it was enough to satisfy the officer.

The PO’s face still didn’t look convinced, but he shoved a set of paperwork at him. “Give the top one to your driver and have the nurse sign the other one.”

This time the smile that split Abrahim’s face was genuine. His cousin would love how this whole thing went down. After all, he was the one who’d taught Abrahim all he knew about manipulating people. It was the only way to get along in the justice system.

Three days later, Abrahim’s driver pulled to a stop outside the home. “Okay, Abrahim, we’re on from noon to four o’clock every day. I’ll pick you up at four. Make sure the nurse signs the community service sheet or it’ll be like you never completed the hours.”

“Yes, sir,” Abrahim said. He hopped out of the car and waved as his driver pulled away. “Fools!” he said to himself. “I’ll know everything I need to about these guys in one week; Clubba will know too.”

The Sarge glanced at the security monitor and smiled. “Well, well,” he said. “Look who decided to give some community service. Hey, Tiny,” he called across the lobby, “you gotta see this.”

“What?”

The Sarge pulled the unlit stogie from his mouth and pointed. “Know who that is?”

Tiny took one glance and made a disgusted sound. “Sure do. What’s he doing here?”

“Best guess is killing two birds with one stone,” the Sarge said and shoved the cigar butt back in his mouth. “Spying on us—you in particular—and being his cousin Clubba’s eyes and ears on the ground.”

“No coincidence here,” Tiny said.

“There’s no coincidence period,” the Sarge said. “We’ll have to make sure he gets educated correctly so when Clubba gets out—”

“—we’ll have a little surprise for him,” Tiny said with a harsh laugh.

“He’s getting signed in with his paperwork so I’ll make this quick,” the Sarge said. “Make sure he knows you have a nightly walk around the grounds every evening. That should interest Clubba. My guess is that he’ll come calling as soon as he gets out of prison.”

“I’m sure he will,” Tiny said and struggled to draw breath. He pressed a hand over his heart and wheezed.

“Sit,” the Sarge directed and indicated a chair in front of him.

Tiny did as indicated, a move that said everything about his health. Tiny at one hundred percent would’ve told his superior where he could stick that order.

This wasn’t good. The Sarge bent down in front of him. “You don’t have much longer, Tiny.”

Tiny raised his gaze and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve already lasted three times longer than the doctor said I would.”

“Between your heart and the cancer—”

“I could go at any time. Tell you the truth, Sarge; it’ll be a relief. I had a good life but I’m so blasted weak and tired.” His shoulders lifted and fell in a deep sigh. “And I’m so sick of pissing myself.”

The Sarge settled his hand on Tiny’s shoulder. “You’re one of the best cops I’ve ever known, Tiny. Bar none. Without you this whole operation would never have worked. Clubba’s furious and he’s sent his cousin after you. Yet here you sit, calm and cool, ready to act as bait.” The Sarge shook his head and looked out the window. “When it’s my time to go, I hope I can call my shots like you have.”

“Don’t get all sappy on me,” Tiny said. “I’m not dead yet.”

“No, you aren’t,” the Sarge said. “Maybe we’ll name a toilet after you.”

A slight smile lifted Tiny’s lips. “I want a nice silver plaque right on the floor between the feet of every Blue that uses it. They can think of me each time they drop a load.”

The two shared a quick laugh. Tiny’s ended with a coughing spasm…and blood. The Sarge reached for the handkerchief in his pocket and dabbed the blood from the corner of Tiny’s mouth. “Good as new.”

“You’re a lousy liar.” Tiny peered at the monitor. “Abrahim’s headed toward the precinct.”

“Time to move.”

Tiny reached for the Sarge’s arm and held it a moment. “In the end, all us Blues take care of each other. I’m proud to have known you all these years, Sarge.”

The Sarge managed a weak smile for his friend. The knowledge that Tiny wouldn’t be around much longer pierced him to the core.

“Like I said, you’re a lousy liar so don’t say anything.” Tiny shook his finger at him. “Nobody is to know about what I’m doing, Sarge. Not until this assignment is finished, understand?” Tiny pushed out of the chair and turned toward the door. “It’s not the end of my tour yet. Not today.” He turned back and jerked his head toward the incoming boy. “Let’s go meet the little spy Clubba sent us.”

Earnest Yates lay in his top bunk and stared at the ceiling. What he’d learned about Clubba had impressed him. Protected by every major gang, he controlled all the information going out. The plan was to keep his Sudanese soldiers in the prison system to extend that sphere of influence to both sides of the walls. Earnest jackknifed into a sitting position.

“Lay still,” his bunkmate growled.

“Shut up,” Earnest said. He turned the thought over in his mind.
Both sides of the wall
—that was it! Once Clubba left the pen, he’d extend his influence outside as well. That meant he’d get special protection from each of the gangs in Omaha and maybe farther. He wasn’t aiming to be just an associate; he was gunning to be the kingpin.

Clubba’s biggest problem was an over-inflated ego. He thought he couldn’t be touched, that he could get away with whatever he wanted. Earnest laid back on his mattress and smiled into the darkness. How often had he seen that same hubris trip guys up? Once they thought they could get away with anything—or everything—they got overconfident. A quick way to die in the joint.

On the outside, cops would take a special interest in him. He’d get caught and be back here within a year or two. Earnest had seen it happen repeatedly. Hell, it happened to him. Until he walked out of the place, Earnest planned to work on the overconfident kingpin. Maybe he could get the kid to do him a little favor.

Late that afternoon Earnest approached Clubba in the common area. “Know that little freak who threw that bag of piss at you?”

Clubba met Earnest’s gaze blandly. “Not yet but I will. You can bet on it.”

Earnest plopped down across the table from Clubba without being invited and broke an inmate taboo. Inmates don’t sit when no invitation was extended. It was a great way to get the beating of your life. Clubba stiffened and straightened in his seat.

“I already know,” Earnest said quietly.

Clubba’s dark stare zeroed in on Earnest. “Tell me,” he demanded in a whisper.

Earnest eased forward at the table. Clubba’s tone and underlying ultimatum let him know everything he needed. He didn’t want to be overheard and he had a weak spot: a lack of knowledge. Earnest had something of real value to Clubba. “Why?” Earnest asked. “Why is he so important to you?”

Clubba clenched his left fist into a tight ball. “Never mind,” he growled. “Who is he?”

Earnest gazed around the room and whispered back. “He stays at the retired police officers home in Omaha.”

Clubba drew back and frowned. “What is his name?”

“Yeah, man,” Earnest said with a chuckle. “He came with that group of retirees.”

“I didn’t pay any attention to them,” Clubba mused. “My cousin was with them; he had all my attention.”

“Well that group of men,” Earnest responded, “was from the police retirement home. That means the little guy, who by the way seems to have it in for you, is a retired cop.”

Clubba glared at the Formica top, both hands in white-knuckled fists. “Most cops hate me. Nothing new there,” he said sarcastically. “Does this ex-cop have a name?”

“You don’t get it,” Earnest whispered with a smile. “That little creep harassed me too when I was on the outside. He was a lot younger then, and a little more agile, not the cranky old buzzard you see now.”

Clubba glared at Earnest. “You saying I was schooled by an old man?”

“Nah,” Earnest said quickly. “
Yeah.”

Clubba slammed his fists into the sides of the table. “His name!”

“Called Tiny,” Earnest said. “Fitting don’t you think? Always loved going after people he thinks are crooks…and not normal crooks. He likes the ones who seem to have a following, those who have associates or who’re building some sort of business. Once you get on Tiny’s list, he won’t stop. The guy’s like a pit bull.”

“Tiny,” Clubba repeated. “Tiny man; tiny cop. Who lives at this retirement home.” He rested his elbows on the smooth surface and tapped his knuckles on the table. “I’ll show this Tiny what happens to people who mess with me.”

“How’s that?” Earnest asked.

“For him…my special way.”

Earnest noticed Clubba’s distant smile and spaced out look as though the younger man was in deep thought. It was a good time to start grooming his pawn so Earnest could have something to do about the “special” that was going to happen to Tiny.