Reckless: A Bad Boyz Anthology Page 10

  It had to be near five o’clock in the afternoon, and I knew this because I could smell the slop they called food as the deputies wheeled the trays out on the squeaky metal carts into the corridor outside of the jail cells. Voices of the inmates, mostly muttering obscenities relative to the quality of the fare, drift down the cellblock.

  What I was not expecting was to see a lone deputy approach my cell with his ring of keys, announcing that I had visitors.

  Visitors?

  As in more than one?

  It had to be my man, Lloyd -- and YES, I was now referring to him as my man and Craig, his PI side kick I was sure! I halfway chuckled thinking they needed an interpretation of that note I had written for Lloyd. That must mean he actually received it, which in and of itself was great news.

  As I was led, in handcuffs -- and I totally didn’t get why those were needed every time I stepped out of my cell, down the dim corridor, my adrenaline pumped hard at the thought of at least being near Lloyd for however amount of time it ended up being.

  I pretty much knew my half-ass smile froze on my face as the deputy opened the door to the interview room and, much to my surprise, there sat Ma and Pop Gunner.

  After a moment had passed, I knew that I was every bit as dazed and crazed as they were. I had a lot of explaining to do, but I was going to allow them their say first. Not only because it was the respectable thing to do, it would also serve to clue me in as to how much they knew.

  I sat down at the table across from them. The deputy remained, standing with his arms crossed blocking the only door in or out of this cramped closet of a room.

  “Luke Raymond Gunner,” Ma started, putting particular emphasis on the middle name they had graced me with upon my adoption. “Do you want to let us know what the Sam Hill has happened to you? Murder? Senator Hastings?” and she stopped right there, her voice choked off by sobs of sadness and disappointment.

  Pop cleared this throat, leaning closer against the table as his blue eyes pierced my soul like a well-honed blade. “What your Ma wants to know, son, is what the hell have you gotten yourself into?”

  “How did you know?” I asked, for some crazy reason that was the only thing that popped into my head at the moment.

  “Good Lord, boy,” Pop said, his eyes blazed an angry blue, “we don’t have our heads up our asses just because we live in the country! We do watch the news, we do read the newspaper, and when someone comes knocking on our door looking for you, we do answer it!”

  Oh Christ! The very thing I had not wanted to happen. My parents were good people if I hadn’t already made that perfectly clear. I was optimistic that Lloyd would have had this cleared up quickly before they were any the wiser. I now realized the foolishness of that type of thinking. I was obviously the one with head up said ass.

  “Listen, both of you,” I said as quietly and directly as possible. “They aren’t going to give you more than five minutes here. Not enough time for me to explain, but trust me and believe me when I tell you this: I did not abduct or kill anyone. I have not led a perfect life, but a murderer I am not, nor could I ever be and I think you both know that. If you want to help me, then please contact my attorney. He’s working on this and can fill you in on what’s been uncovered up to this point. I told him and his investigator, I didn’t think either of you could assist, but the fact that you’re here, he may want to talk to you just to feel assured that no stone has been left unturned.”

  Ma looked at me, her eyes wanting more than what I had just given her.

  “I know the evidence looks bad, Ma,” I said, lowering my head, “but there might be an explanation for the DNA. That’s what Lloyd -- my lawyer, and my very good friend is looking into.”

  And when I finally looked up at her, something passed over her eyes and, in that moment, I knew that she knew more than I ever would’ve guessed. She saw the look of surprise cross my features. She gave me a silent nod.

  “Write his address and phone number down, Ma,” I instructed, my mind a whirlwind of confused and conflicted emotions. Was it possible my parents knew what I had just heard? She wrote down the information, and as she finished, she looked over at me and smiled meekly.

  “I’m sorry, Luke,” she said. “We’re both sorry. We should’ve known better than to think you were capable of anything like this. It’s just that…”

  I didn’t let her finish because I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what she was going to say. I wasn’t ready for any more. I simply wanted her to spill her guts to Lloyd; let him sort it all out.

  The deputy cleared his throat, and told us time was up. They weren’t allowed any physical contact with me. But they assured me they would connect with Lloyd immediately, and would stay in the City for as long as they needed to be here.

  Chapter 21

  THE CALL HAD come out of the blue. It was Sunday evening when I answered my cell only to hear the sound of a woman -- a distraught woman -- telling me she’d just spoken to her son, and was given my name and number and instructed to get in touch as soon as possible.

  Jake and Nancy Gunner, Luke’s parents, were now sitting in my living room.

  “I know maybe we should’ve told Luke,” Nancy said, wringing her hands for the hundredth time in the thirty minutes since they’d arrived.

  I handed her one of my pressed handkerchiefs, and she immediately dabbed at the moisture in her eyes. “The thing is,” she continued, “we were totally caught off guard. I mean, Luke was ten years old at the time. This woman -- she showed up out of the blue. It was right after the Michigan State Fair. She’d seen pictures of Luke that had been printed in the paper for taking the blue ribbon with his horse. Said she recognized him as being the son she’d given up nearly ten years before.”

  Jake spoke up as she paused. “You have to understand, Mr. Ledbetter, up until that point, we knew nothing about Luke’s birth parents. You can imagine how shocked we were when this lady claimed he was a twin. Said her only regret was giving Luke up instead of the other one. Can you imagine a mother saying that?”

  “No,” I replied, scribbling notes on my legal pad, my mind trying to wrap itself around this bit of news. “Why didn’t you ever tell Luke?”

  “That’s my fault,” Nancy said. “When this woman told me about his twin brother, about how disturbed he was, well, I told Jake we didn’t need to put that kind of news out there to Luke. I’m not sure how much is nature and how much is nurture, Mr. Ledbetter. All I knew was that Luke was in a healthy environment and I didn’t want to risk any of it by letting him know about his mother’s visit and the fact he had a twin brother. Besides that, they lived in West Virginia. That’s where the boys were born. She was only in Michigan to bury her father. She’d been raised near Detroit, but once she got married, they had moved to West Virginia. I got the impression that she’d had a tough road most of her life.”

  Now I was confused. Why did the woman get in touch with the Gunners? I asked the question.

  “Oh, that’s because she’d never known what had become of Luke. She’d said her husband, Luke’s father, had been upset when she’d had those twins. Said they couldn’t afford to keep the both, so he forced her to give one of them up. She had never imagined she would see Luke again until that summer when she was back in Michigan and saw the paper.”

  “What did she want?” I asked.

  “She didn’t ask for anything,” Nancy replied. “Only wanted to tell us how happy she was that Luke was living a normal life. Thanked us. Said she’d not be back, that she had no desire to upset Luke or interfere with his life.”

  “Yeah,” Jake interjected, “she made it a point to tell us her husband wouldn’t be pleased if he discovered she’d looked us up. Said she would make sure he never found out. We both found that strange.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked. “After all, he was the bastard that said they couldn’t keep both boys. Sounds like a monumental asshole to me.” I was pissed and I wasn’t sure why. It had been to Luke’s advantage obviousl
y to be the one given up.

  “If you’d have seen her, I think you would have understood, Mr. Ledbetter. The woman was so beaten down by life. I couldn’t help but think her husband was responsible for that. She had genuine remorse for what she’d done, and yet she also seemed at peace knowing that Luke had turned out well. She didn’t have regrets on that front; it was almost as if she felt we had saved him from something dark and evil. I know how that sounds, but it’s the only way I can describe it.”

  “So you understand why we never told Luke?” Jake asked, searching my face for some sort of approval.

  “Absolutely,” I replied. “You did the right thing. And you’ve done the right thing by telling me all of this now. Do you happen to remember the woman’s name?”

  “Just her last name,” Nancy piped up. “She didn’t give us her first name. It was Nettleman. Mrs. Nettleman.”

  Holy Mother of God.

  I quickly dug through the notes I’d made the day I had interviewed Luke. There it was.

  Leonard Nettleman.

  Lenny the Shark.

  It was official. My life had suddenly been transported into a bad remake of The Sopranos. Kidnapping, murder, washed-up bodies in the Hudson, mafia wannabes using unimaginative nicknames and the list went on and on. The ridiculous thought that these men actually had Marlon Brando accents when they spoke crossed my mind, which, in turn, had me shuddering with distaste.

  "Well, I'll be damned," I muttered as the pieces began falling into some screwed up order. This, however, did not exactly explain why Luke was being framed.

  "What's happening, Mr. Ledbetter?" Jake asked, visibly alarmed. His gray hair matched the color of his now frowning brows, piercing blue eyes demanding an explanation. "I'm not sure yet, Mr. Gunner. I'm trying to piece things together but it's just not making sense to me, yet." I stood as I began putting my documents away into the corresponding files and re-addressed the Gunners.

  "I promise you," I began as they both stood, hanging on every one of my words, "I will not stop until Luke is exonerated and walking the streets free. You have my word."

  Nancy sighed a breath of relief as Jake extended his hand to firmly shake mine. As though our handshake were sealing the deal of Luke's freedom. I had not lied, I would get to the bottom of this sinkhole and haul my lover out unharmed. Nancy threw herself at me, hugging me like a lifeline. Close contact with people I barely knew was not always part of my social capabilities but for some inexplicable reason, these two down-to-earth, hard-working people inspired me to try. So, I did just that. My arms came up, wrapping strongly around Nancy's shoulders as I squeezed hard enough to accentuate my promise.

  As soon as the Gunners were gone, I turned back to my kitchen counter and dialed up Craig.

  Ring.

  Answer the phone, Craig.

  Ring.

  I am not a patient man, Craig.

  Ring.

  I'm going to rip..."Yeah?" Saved by the last ring.

  "Three rings, Craig? Really? Do you know how close I came to ripping your balls off?" My trusted PI actually laughed. Loudly.

  "Despite your cut-throat attitude in court, Lloyd, I very much doubt you'd have the guts to actually cut a man's balls off. It's not a pretty sight and, unfortunately, always sends a phantom pain to your own testicles. You'd puke halfway through, to be honest."

  Was this guy for real? And how the hell would he actually know all of this? "It was an expression, Craig, but thank you for that lesson in Torture 101, I'll be sure to study up on it."

  Craig chuckled before he went straight to business. "What's up? Got news?" he asked, the serious tone completely audible through the phone.

  "Yes. I'm afraid I do, although it may ring more bells to you than to me. Remember Leonard Nettleman? Or..." Craig cut me off before I could use the "Godfather" nickname, telling me he'd call me right back.

  Standing in my living room, in shock at the fact my employee had just hung up on me, I just stared at the black screen with my mouth slightly agape. Four seconds later, it rang with a blocked number.

  "Hello?" I answered hesitantly.

  "Never EVER give important information over the damn phone, Lloyd. I'm on a burner, meet me at the Golden Bean coffee shop on 8th and Bleeker down in Greenwich. We'll talk there." For the second time that day, my phone greeted me with the beeping indicating my conversation was over.

  ***

  Sleep was evasive, to say the least. I supposed it was understandable with the amount of coffee I had consumed during the all too confusing mob soap-opera going on at the Golden Bean.

  Craig had been able to find quite a bit of information prior to my learning about Lenny the freaking Shark, including poking his interested eye into Luke's DVD rental store in Syracuse. Strangely enough, the bookkeeping was accurate to the last cent but all in all, his client base was pretty much a recurring one. From what he had guessed, the DVD shop was a front for his more profitable business...working the mafia books. This was not really news to me but where I had not asked all the fine details to Luke, Craig filled me in. In turn, the cryptic message I had received started to make sense. I just needed to ask Luke about the film and its meaning, if there even was one.

  Arriving at the office earlier than usual, I stopped at Erin's desk and smiled as she used her sweet as honey voice to explain to a client that I would not be available for our afternoon meeting. It was bad business but getting Luke out of prison was my number one priority. When my secretary hung up the phone she gave me a saccharine smile. And so our daily banter began...

  "Got my coffee, Erin?"

  "Nope. Wasn't in my job description. I do, however, have a file that was sent in by courier the size of my naughty book collection," she answered before leaning in and whispering, "Trust me, it's huuuuuge."

  Drawing out the last word, Erin had me chuckling as I imagined her reading mommy porn to her husband as they created yet another rug rat. "I just lost my appetite. Unless..." I bent at the waist over her desk to make sure no eavesdroppers could hear me, "your preferred literature is all about the man on man action?"

  Erin visibly blushed with a grin wide enough to make her eyes sparkle. "Jesus," I started, grabbing the heavy file and making my way to my office door, "I just don't understand your kind."

  A loud snort followed by a chuckle brought out a smile on my face. "My kind? Would that be women, Mr. Ledbetter? Because, trust me, not even women understand our kind so it's okay...we're all safer that way."

  Shaking my head, I stepped into my office and rounded my desk simultaneously dropping the file and my briefcase on the hard wood surface. Before sitting on my plush chair, something caught my eye on the jacket of the dossier. The client information was for a white collar crime allegedly committed by the CEO of Bennett Distributions. The company's headquarters was located in West Virginia, the coincidence daunting. But what had my hairs standing on end was the statement from the one and only State Senator Hastings. Slipping the paper out, I read the words dictated under oath, about the great character of my client; his diligent work ethic and incomparable loyalty to his business. Searching through the pages, I paused when I remembered what, exactly, the family business was about. Armament. An armament company located in the same state as Lenny the Shark's permanent residence getting a doting appraisal of character by the now deceased Senator was too much to be ignored.

  "Lloyd?" Erin's voice over the intercom interrupted my thought.

  "Yes?" I answered, still sifting through the papers to see if anything else would jar my memory. "I just received a Twitter update I think you should see."

  That got my attention. Why in the world would I be the least bit interested in the social media hornet’s nest? Skittering to my desk and leaving the office door open, Erin's hair bouncing like a slinky down the stairs, she pushed the smartphone under my nose.

  "Look!" All I could see was an update about something called "Secrets."

  "Who's Kindle Alexander?"

  Turning to lo
ok at Erin, I noticed her cheeks were bright red as she cleared her throat and slid her fingers across the screen, in search of my useful information. "Umm...she's an author."

  Ah. That explained the flush in her face.

  "Here. The New York Prime has an article on Senator Hastings."

  According to the daily paper, there was a bill going through Congress about gun restrictions. It was supposed to be in the Senate's hands the following week and according to the article, Mr. Hastings was predicted to vote in favor, tipping passage by a one-vote majority according to the press. I didn't realize people still voted against these types of restrictions, political suicide and all that. Then again, with the latest attacks in schools and university campuses, the constituents were starting to get antsy.

  "How does this relate to me?" I asked, confused.

  Erin shrugged and buried her phone in her pocket. "Well, Mister smarty pants. I saw an article about the man that your hottie client supposedly killed so I thought...'Hey, maybe it could be useful to know what his political agenda was?'"

  Smart ass.

  I should fire her for her insubordination.

  "Thank you, Erin. I'll look into it."

  Walking out the office door, she shouted over her shoulder, "I like dark chocolate but hubby prefers dark ale."

  That woman would be the death of me. "Again, thank you 'Oh mastermind of all that is information.'"

  I needed to make a list.

  And so I began with three columns: one for Luke, one for Hastings, and one with a question mark and 'Duke' in parentheses. I needed to find common links between the three with all of the information we had gathered. The only thing clearly popping out was money.

  Laundering. Weapons.

  The puzzle was far from solved but there were important links being made. Yet, I had more questions than answers at this point. Why would Senator Hastings, a Senator from New York, be vouching for a CEO from West Virginia? If he was tight with said CEO of an armament company, why would he vote for gun restrictions? And how in the fuck did Lenny figure into all of this? Besides the fact they were from the same State, the link was more than circumstantial, it was downright ridiculous. Going back to the file, I searched every name and witness mentioned within the two hundred page file. Twice.