consignment store. They get
everything they want, and the landlord doesn’t make them stick to any of the
rules about keeping the parking lot and sidewalks clean, or anything. I don’t
get that. Of all the tenants, they are the worst. Those kids drive around here
like maniacs, leave fast-food trash all over the lot, and intimidate the other
shoppers. They even take the handicapped spots,” she huffed as she peered over
her half-moon spectacles at him. She lowered her voice and leaned in. “I
suspect that some of them are selling drugs in that lot. I’ve seen how they do
it on TV. I’d bet dollars to doughnuts that’s what’s going on.
Sam looked dutifully shocked and thought that she
might be on to something. Before he could comment, she straightened and said,
“You didn’t come in here to chat with me. Are you looking for something in
particular?”
Not a good spontaneous liar, Sam collected his
thoughts as he cast his glance around the shop. He spotted a small ceramic vase
and said that he wanted to surprise Joan with flowers and get her something new
to put them in. He indicated the vase and Debra praised him for his good taste
as she wrapped it carefully in newspaper and collected the three-dollar price.
Sam made a mental note to buy Joan flowers as he headed to his truck.
***
Frank Haynes turned into the
shopping center, a malnourished lab secured in the large crate in his backseat.
He was following the driveway around to the back entrance of Forever Friends
when he spotted an older man with a slight limp walking purposefully toward a
truck at the far end of the lot. He’s out of place, Haynes mused.
Haynes completed the intake paperwork quickly and
skipped the one ritual that he truly enjoyed: spending time with the animals.
The receptionist was surprised when Haynes shook his head and snapped that he
didn’t have time to take any of the dogs out to the exercise pen. This was a
first, she thought, but based upon his brusque manner, she didn’t comment.
Haynes snatched his keys off the counter and
headed out the door without a backward glance. When he drove around to the
front of the center, he was dismayed to see that the truck was still there and
that the man was eyeing the area in front of the consignment store. What the
hell is he still doing here? Haynes quickly pulled into a parking spot and
awkwardly craned his neck to see what was so interesting.
Both men observed three boys and one girl
surrounding an older male, probably in his late twenties, off to one side.
Their heads were bent, looking at something the man was holding. They weren’t
laughing and jostling, or engaging in the easy conversations of the other
groups. Obviously a drug buy.
Damn those Delgado brothers, Haynes
seethed. They never know when to stop! I was a fool to allow them into this. They knew the rules: no drugs, no prostitutes, no numbers running anywhere
near the shopping centers. Clean financial fraud they’d be able to cover up forever. That’s why I agreed to those condos in Florida; they can run their girls and
dope down there. White trash, bottom-feeding petty thugs.
Haynes turned back to the truck at the far end of
the lot. That nosey bastard is still here. He knows what’s going on. I’ll
bet the other tenants do, too. Not to mention the high-school kids.
Haynes watched the man start up his truck and pull
out of the lot. He followed. The man’s next two stops—both at centers
that were part of their scheme—confirmed Haynes’ worst fears. Someone was
on to them. Haynes ground his teeth as he spun his car around and accelerated
back to his office. No sense letting this bastard in the truck know that he was
being followed. He reached into the giant bottle of antacids he kept in his
console and popped a handful like they were M&Ms. Time to make sure that
everything was in place to finger Wheeler. And that nothing could lead to
himself.
***
Dr. John Allen was busy that
Thursday afternoon as well. He had a
everything they want, and the landlord doesn’t make them stick to any of the
rules about keeping the parking lot and sidewalks clean, or anything. I don’t
get that. Of all the tenants, they are the worst. Those kids drive around here
like maniacs, leave fast-food trash all over the lot, and intimidate the other
shoppers. They even take the handicapped spots,” she huffed as she peered over
her half-moon spectacles at him. She lowered her voice and leaned in. “I
suspect that some of them are selling drugs in that lot. I’ve seen how they do
it on TV. I’d bet dollars to doughnuts that’s what’s going on.
Sam looked dutifully shocked and thought that she
might be on to something. Before he could comment, she straightened and said,
“You didn’t come in here to chat with me. Are you looking for something in
particular?”
Not a good spontaneous liar, Sam collected his
thoughts as he cast his glance around the shop. He spotted a small ceramic vase
and said that he wanted to surprise Joan with flowers and get her something new
to put them in. He indicated the vase and Debra praised him for his good taste
as she wrapped it carefully in newspaper and collected the three-dollar price.
Sam made a mental note to buy Joan flowers as he headed to his truck.
***
Frank Haynes turned into the
shopping center, a malnourished lab secured in the large crate in his backseat.
He was following the driveway around to the back entrance of Forever Friends
when he spotted an older man with a slight limp walking purposefully toward a
truck at the far end of the lot. He’s out of place, Haynes mused.
Haynes completed the intake paperwork quickly and
skipped the one ritual that he truly enjoyed: spending time with the animals.
The receptionist was surprised when Haynes shook his head and snapped that he
didn’t have time to take any of the dogs out to the exercise pen. This was a
first, she thought, but based upon his brusque manner, she didn’t comment.
Haynes snatched his keys off the counter and
headed out the door without a backward glance. When he drove around to the
front of the center, he was dismayed to see that the truck was still there and
that the man was eyeing the area in front of the consignment store. What the
hell is he still doing here? Haynes quickly pulled into a parking spot and
awkwardly craned his neck to see what was so interesting.
Both men observed three boys and one girl
surrounding an older male, probably in his late twenties, off to one side.
Their heads were bent, looking at something the man was holding. They weren’t
laughing and jostling, or engaging in the easy conversations of the other
groups. Obviously a drug buy.
Damn those Delgado brothers, Haynes
seethed. They never know when to stop! I was a fool to allow them into this. They knew the rules: no drugs, no prostitutes, no numbers running anywhere
near the shopping centers. Clean financial fraud they’d be able to cover up forever. That’s why I agreed to those condos in Florida; they can run their girls and
dope down there. White trash, bottom-feeding petty thugs.
Haynes turned back to the truck at the far end of
the lot. That nosey bastard is still here. He knows what’s going on. I’ll
bet the other tenants do, too. Not to mention the high-school kids.
Haynes watched the man start up his truck and pull
out of the lot. He followed. The man’s next two stops—both at centers
that were part of their scheme—confirmed Haynes’ worst fears. Someone was
on to them. Haynes ground his teeth as he spun his car around and accelerated
back to his office. No sense letting this bastard in the truck know that he was
being followed. He reached into the giant bottle of antacids he kept in his
console and popped a handful like they were M&Ms. Time to make sure that
everything was in place to finger Wheeler. And that nothing could lead to
himself.
***
Dr. John Allen was busy that
Thursday afternoon as well. He had a
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