Deadly Donations Part VI

My name is Henry James and I’m a writer for Dark Sides of the Truth magazine.

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Conclusion

As I scanned the lobby of the Gaymon Plaza Inn, waiting for Sunny to show, the bartender continued to keep my soda filled. I’m guessing he was hoping I’d move on so he could make some real money from patrons inclined to order booze.

Don’t know why. The cost of the damned soda was just as much as buying a shot of tequila.

Plus tequila has less sugar, low carbohydrates and no corn syrup.

You can’t get any more healthy than that folks.

My bladder was screaming at me to take a break so I tapped out at the bar and scurried to the men’s room. I was on my way back to the lobby when I spotted her.

Bracketed by a pair of Hulk Hogan wannabes she was heading to the exit at the front of the hotel. Sunny was wearing a bright, and I do mean bright, one piece floral skirt, a pair of red patent leather stilettos, and a floppy sun bonnet which cast an alluring shadow on her face. Her eyes were shaded by a pair of sun glasses.

Maybe it was just me not paying attention, but I couldn’t remember a time I’d ever seen her wear much jewelry.

But damn, she sure had the bling on now.

Several gold chains hung around her neck. She wore rings on several fingers and bracelets dangled on both wrists.

You think you know someone then you find out they’re the kind of person who has no problem flaunting themselves in posh clothing and looking like a self indulgent baroness. Oh, and owning the magazine you work for.

A point I was still trying to cope with.

I watched Sunny and her entourage exit the hotel and while the two red oak trees posing as bodyguards stood by, Sunny got in the back of a black limo. I saw some dude of Asian descent sitting inside and then one of the goons shut the door.

The bodyguards walked toward the hotel parking lot and I followed. I hurried to catch up with them then passed them on my way to my car. They never gave me a second look.

Why would they? Who’s going to expect trouble from an old codger who looks like he just finished a day of sitting his butt in a tractor seat tilling sod?

I slid into my car and started it, but kept my eyes on the troll brothers as they stomped to a black Mercedes and got in. The limo exited the hotel’s alcove and the Mercedes rolled in behind it. I tried to follow both cars at a respectful distance, even stopping at a red light they rolled through to make a left turn onto a side street.

After the light, I turned. I could see both the limo and the Mercedes, but they were about fifteen cars ahead of me. I knew there might be a situation where I’d lose them, and not knowing the town very well I stepped it up a notch to get closer.

Both cars turned again. We were nearing the outskirts of Pierceton. Industrial parks lined both sides of a four lane highway. My spidey sense began to jangle when the limo and the Mercedes turned into a warehouse complex.

I turned, but pulled over to the side of the street and stopped.

Through the front windshield I watched the limo and the Mercedes pull up to a guard shack gate of a warehouse parking lot, sit for a second or two then the chain link gate moved aside and both cars drove into the parking lot.

Why is it I never think of binoculars until I need a pair of binoculars?For the record folks, hearing and remembering where you left your car keys ain’t the only things that vanish when you get older.

I got out of my car and squinted to get a better look. The Asian man and Sunny along with the troglodytes behind them looked like four fuzzy animated shadows. Beyond that, the only thing I could really make out was the concrete steps and the door they all passed through.

Okay now what? As far as I was concerned Sunny just stuck her head in the lion’s mouth.

I flipped up my car’s console, retrieved the pistol and two extra mags then stepped out of my car.

I didn’t have a plan, but by God I had my pistol.

Inside my head I was seeing me Rambo my way into the building, shooting everybody in sight, except Sunny of course. It’s really bad form to kill your boss. Then with Sunny in tow, we’d make a bee line for my car and freedom.

And…that’s bullshit.

The only things I’ve ever shot at were animals I intended to eat and paper targets. Besides, going Chuck Norris Delta Force on these people would probably get both Sunny and me killed.

But I had to do something.

I tucked my pistol along the waist band of my jeans at the small of my back and pocketed the mags. My first challenge was going to be the guard shack. I was going to need to gain entrance through either guile or guts.

Maybe both.

I took a few steps in the direction of the warehouse then saw some activity. The door at the top of the stairway swung open and Sunny and the two goons were coming down the steps. I watched her get in the limo.

The two westlemania refugees got into their ride and the limo and the Mercedes pulled out of the parking lot heading in my direction.

And here I was standing in the street.

If I’d been wearing a uniform and carrying a whistle I suppose I could have pretended to be a traffic cop.

But I wasn’t.

Plan B was to hightail my ass back to my car. Remember, I can run like a three legged dog, but not for long. I hobbled, dashed, hobbled, skipped, double hobbled, double skipped back to my car and dove in, slamming the door shut as I crouched on the floor board.

And then cramps in both legs decided to wring out my calf muscles like you would a wet cleaning rag.

I’m pretty sure nobody in the limo or the Mercedes heard me braying like a jackass as they passed. I waited for several more minutes, enduring as much as I could before I rolled out of my car. Somehow, I found a way to straighten and walked around my vehicle several times until the pain went away.

So much for Rambo or Chuck Norris Delta Force.

More like Tim Conway and the Apple Dumpling Gang.

I managed to pass the Mercedes and the limo on the way back and was in the hotel parking lot and in the lobby before the limo pulled beneath the alcove. This time the Hulk twins stayed in their car. I watched Sunny exit the limo and head toward the front entrance as the limo and the Mercedes drove away.

As she walked to the elevators I fell in step behind her. Sunny pushed a call button and stood facing the elevator doors. When the doors opened she stepped inside and so did I.

“What floor boss?”

“Oh for Christ sake James how did you find me?”

“I’m pretty sure we’ll have time to discuss that. Like I said, what floor?”

Sunny shoved her hand into a dress pocket and withdrew a hotel key card.

“Penthouse. You have to use the key to get to it.”

“Figures.”

READ ON — DEADLY DONATIONS PART VII

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