Street Justice (15 page)

"Steve?" Adrian said in a tone of a parent warning a child rather than asking, "What are you doing?"

"Going to get coffee," he said. Before Adrian could ask anything else he scurried from the car.

Adrian watched as Steve trotted off toward the coffee shop, which lay past the wheel shop. Steve walked down the sidewalk, almost looking like a guy who wanted to show he was acting casual. He glanced around, though too much around. He swung his arms with too much exuberance. He was a caricature of a relaxed walker.

"Oh no. This is not going to be good," Adrian thought to himself. He watched as Steve approached the entrance to the wheel shop.  Steve moved along never breaking stride. "Well, maybe this won't be too bad, maybe he's just going to get coffee," Adrian reassured himself. Steve continued stepping out his path, nearly passing the entrance to the wheel shop, but at the last moment swerving and entering the shop.

"Oh no. This is not going to be good," Adrian repeated to himself.

Steve stepped from the dim street into the brightly lit, nearly antiseptic store. An electronic bing-bong sounded and a young Asian girl appeared from the door. "Can I help you?” she asked.

"Yeah, I'd like to see a manager," Steve asked.

"I am a manager, I can help you," she replied setting her shoulders.

Steve smiled a board smile, "I don't mean for your rims and wheels. I am talking about the other product, the product in the back."

The small girl wavered a bit then steeled herself again and replied, "I assure you, all of our products are viewable here in the showroom."

"Hmm, I don't think that's true, see I'm with the FBI, not the local police, and we don't usually make mistakes when it comes to things like this." The young lady stood stone-faced as if she had not even heard Steve. "See that Crown Vic across the street, that's not even a subtle stake out vehicle," Steve turned slightly so the girl could look past him and pointed toward Adrian in the car.

Steve heard the door to the back open and close. He turned back around a well dressed African-American man, about six feet tall, wearing slacks and an oxford, stood next to the girl. He had hair cut so short Steve could easily see his scalp. He wore a saccharin smile which showed perfect teeth that were artificially white.  "Mara, I'll take over from here," he said, dismissing the girl who dropped her tough facade and scurried back through the door. "My name is Eric, may I help you," the man asked once Mara had left.

"Yes, hello, my name is Steve Lancaster. How are you?" Steve said with an artificial formality.

Taking the show in stride the man replied with a matching show of pomp, "I am doing very well, thank you for asking. Now, how may I be of service?"

"Well, I was wondering if we could talk about the product in the back."

"As Mara mentioned, everything we have is out front here."

"I am sure that is not the case,” dropping the fake formality, Steve leaned forward on the counter and said, “Listen, we’re not here for our health. We know what is going on and you know what is going on.”

“Maybe, but the question becomes, what can you prove?” Eric leaned forward as well.

“That’s true, that’s true,” Steve stood upright, “But understand we’ll be around and when you make a mistake, we’ll be ready.” Steve turned and headed for the front door. He watched Eric watching him in the reflection on the window. Eric did not move, nor did he say anything.

Once outside, Steve hustled down the street back to the car. Dropping into the passenger seat, Adrian was already freaking out, “What was that? What did you do? Why didn’t you talk to me about it?”

Steve smiled and casually looked over at Adrian, “Well that ought to shake them up.”

Adrian stopped, looked at Steve and continued, “Now they know we are here.”

Letting out a chortle, Steve explained, “We’re two white guys in a Crown Victoria, you’re in a suit. Yeah, I think they already knew we were cops. Well, they thought we were cops. I simply let them know we’re FBI.”

Now Adrian was interested, “Why?”

“They deal with the police every day, not a big deal. But the FBI, they are a different kettle of fish. I am hoping they try and change things, to be more careful.”

“You want them to be more careful?”

“Yeah, I do. They have a routine, a good routine, one that gives no probable cause for anyone to search anything or start anything. It is well oiled and smooth. If they decide to change things up, then things aren’t as smooth. That is when someone makes a mistake. They are doing something new or in a new order, forget something, miss something, and now we have our reason to step in.”

Adrian thought about it, then after a delay, “Fine but you could have told me what you were planning.”

“I could have, but I knew you’d object. This conversation, after there is nothing you could do about it, would be shorter and easier than it would have been before I went.”

“Beg forgiveness rather than seek permission.”

“I wouldn’t say I planned on begging but something like that,” Steve smiled. He reached for the door handle and started to exit the car again.

“Where are you going?” Adrian asked.

“I just realized, we still don’t have coffee.”

Russ returned home, struggling through the door with the boxes and bags he carried. No sooner had he set them down inside than  he heard a knock at the door. He turned and opened it to see Mario. "What up?" he asked.

"Not much, bored," replied Mario as he entered the apartment. As he stepped over the boxes he commented, "Damn, son, what is this?"

"Not much," Russ answered as he surveyed the boxes, "Just a new laptop, a new stereo for my car, speakers and an Xbox One."

"Wow."

"Oh," Russ said reaching into his pocket, "And the new Galaxy S 5."

"Did you hit the lottery or something?"

"Nope, but Jeff swung by earlier and dropped off my share of the money from our, um, sales."

"Where's my cut?" Mario asked.

"Your cut? I had the connection for the drugs and Jeff had the cash and the clients. What did you do?" Russ scowled.

"I drove your dumb asses," Mario shot back.

Russ paused, "Hmm, I guess you're right. I'm not saying full share right, but something. Here's a hundred dollars for now." He retrieved a wad of bills from the pocket not holding the phone and peeled off five twenties.

Mario took the bills and jammed them into his pocket, "A bump might help too."

"Yeah, yeah. Help me set up the Xbox and laptop while I cut out a line or two. You went from a guy who'd never tried it to a guy who I think only comes over now because he wants some."

"That's not true," Mario professed, "I'm just sayin' though that while I'm here I might as well have a snort."

"Yeah, yeah," Russ said and headed toward the kitchen. Mario scooped up the Xbox console and headed toward the TV. He started stringing the cables and hooking up the power. A few minutes later he was testing the power button. As if on cue, Russ reappeared with a plate holding several lines of white powder and a straw cut down to two inches.

In a voice designed to mock sommeliers, "Good sir, may I present, the cocaine, 2014. An excellent year." He set the plate down on the coffee table and Mario did his line. Russ followed as the Xbox sprang to life. "Excellent, I've been dying to play Titanfall, it's in one of the bags along with an extra controller."

Mario tossed Russ the controller that had come in the box with the console and scurried around the couch. As he looked through the bags, another knock came at the door. Mario looked at Russ, then hollered, "Who is it?"

"It's me," came Jeff's voice. Mario stood and opened the door.

Jeff walked in and said, "Mario, my man, glad you're here." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of bills wrapped with a rubber band. "For you. Thanks for driving."

Mario tucked the money away without counting it while turning his head toward Russ and saying, "See? He appreciates me."

"Again, yeah, yeah. Now get the game," Russ quipped.

Mario went back to looking for the game as Jeff made his way into the room. Jeff observed, "Looks like you went on a bit of a shopping spree."

Russ answered, "Yeah, just a few things."

"Good for you," Jeff continued. Tossing another roll of money at Russ he said, "He's the rest but now we have a problem."

"What's that?" Russ asked.

"We're out."

"Out, what do you mean out?" Russ sat up.

"I mean, we have no more product. We got that first batch delivered the day we got it and within hours everyone realized how good it was, then everyone wanted it. I told you, less than two days and we're out."

"I guess that's a pretty good problem to have," Russ replied.

"It is, and we've got the money set aside to order another batch..."

"That too is good, isn't it?"

"It is, but do we really want to be ordering every two days?"

"Well, what are our options," Mario inquired.

"Our options?" Russ countered.

Jeff shot Russ a scornful look and said, "Yes, our options."

"Thank you," Mario responded. Russ did not say anything.

"Well, now that you've been on your spending spree, and I will admit I had one as well, I doubt we have the money to pay up front for a full key...but maybe he'll let us do some credit," Jeff hypothesized.

Russ paused, thought, and then said, "I guess it never hurts to ask."

"Excellent, then let's call him."

Russ slipped his new phone from his pocket and dialed Eric's number. On the second ring the phone cut off. A minute later Russ’ phone rang. Russ answered and Eric's voice came on the line and asked, "Russ, how are you?"

              “I’m doing great, thank you. How’d you know it was me?”

“Caller ID. By the way, if you’re going to keep calling me, you really should adopt burner phones. I’m guessing after your last buy you can afford a couple.”

“Um, yeah we can.” Russ smiled and nodded his head.

“Excellent, so what can I do for you?”

“Um, we need to get some more.”

“Not a problem, that’s what I’m here for. Another half like before?”

Russ, took a short quick breath in, looked at Jeff then Mario and continued, “Well, here’s the thing, we have enough for a half, but were kind of hoping you’d let us buy more on credit.”

The phone was quiet for a several seconds. Then Eric’s voice said, “Sure, I can float you. You helped out my father, he trusts you, and so I trust you.”

“Really?” Russ’ voice shot up half an octave, “Listen, thanks, that’s great.” Russ nodded his head vigorously and gave the thumbs up to Jeff and Mario.

“No problem, buy the way, don’t worry about sending me the money for the half. That’s too much accounting. Just pay for it all at once. My terms are simple, ten percent interest if paid within ten days. Thirty percent interest if paid within thirty days. Don’t take more than thirty days.”

Russ thought about this, then thought about how quickly they had gone through what they had just bought, and said “Sounds fine.”

“Excellent, FedEx will be there in the morning.” With that the connections died.

              “Well, that was easy,” Russ said.

              Mario held up his game controller and offered, “Well, I guess then it is time to play.”

              “Yeah it is,” Russ agreed as he grabbed a controller. Jeff headed to the kitchen for a few beers.

              Devon clicked another binder open. He leafed through the pages until he found the section he was looking to remove. He dutifully pulled the next ten sheets out and replaced them with the ten sheets he had been given. It was methodical work. But it was honest and he liked that he was doing as Katie had asked. He was replacing old human resources pages with the updated version. It was boring. But then again, at no time during, or after was he worried about the police or any other law enforcement agency coming after him.

              He clicked the binder closed around the new pages and set that binder on the stack of others he had already completed. He pulled the next, binder to be updated from a stack on his right and started on it. Take the binder, find about the right spot, find the exact spot, click to open, take out the offending pages, put the new ones in place, click to close, then move to the pile on his left.

              Looking around he saw the stack of manuals on his left was now smaller than the stack on his right. “More than half way through,” he thought to himself. He smiled and picked up his pace a bit. Open, locate, click, pull, replace, click, close and slide. He was establishing a nice rhythm. The job was involved just enough to keep his mind off what his friends grinding on the streets were doing but not overly complex so he could not stay relaxed.

              Devon noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye. It was Julie. His initial dislike of Julie and her all business demeanor had faded. He would not go as far as to consider them friends but he acknowledged her mannerisms worked well in her environment. Julie carried a giant stack of binders. It was at least as many with which he had started. His heart sank.