Missouri Loves Company (Rip Lane Book 1) Page 16

  “Who the fuck are you?” he said.

  My knuckles hammered his nose again.

  “Axel King,” I said, and doused him with bursts of pepper spray.

  He staggered backward, clawing at his eyes. He fell to his knees, grabbing at his throat, gasping and wheezing.

  When I crunched the heel of my boot into his bloody nose he flew backward and hit his head on the coffee table.

  “Two down, two to go,” I said, and cracked my neck from side to side.

  CHAPTER 64

  OFFICER BROWN’S COP uniform fit me, though it was a little tight, and I had to tuck the wig hair under the cop’s hat. I studied myself in the bathroom mirror. From the back I could pass for Officer Brown.

  He lay naked and hogtied on the floor. Too bad he was still unconscious. Otherwise I could have enjoyed pummeling his nose some more.

  When I looked out the front window again I could see the last men standing. There were two of them. Soon there would be only one.

  I threw myself through the screen door. The wooden porch floor was hard. I went down on my left side, curling myself into the fetal position, my back facing the two men.

  “Owen?” a voice called from behind me. “You okay, Owen?”

  I played possum, not moving a muscle, not saying a word.

  “Owen?”

  Footsteps behind me.

  A tug on my shoulder.

  “Owen?”

  I spun around and seized Needles by the wrist and handcuffed him to a pillar. His eyes went wide. I drove the end of the nightstick into his stomach and he gasped. Two blows to the head and he was limp as a marionette without strings.

  “Three down, one to go,” I said, and cracked my knuckles.

  CHAPTER 65

  A GUN MUZZLE pressed against my spine.

  “Put the nightstick down real slow. Real slow.”

  It sounded like Officer Miller.

  I stooped to place the nightstick on the porch floor.

  “The gun too. Put it beside the nightstick.”

  “There you go.”

  He kicked them both away from me.

  “Hold your hands out and keep them out. Now turn around. Do it real slow. No sudden moves.”

  When I turned around Officer Miller locked eyes with me for a moment. Then he leaned forward to peer through the broken screen door. When he saw his partner lying naked on the floor he made a face and jabbed the gun hard into my chest.

  “The hell’d you do to Owen?”

  “Borrowed his clothes.”

  He studied me.

  “I know you?” he said. “You look familiar.”

  “Name’s Axel King.”

  “King? With that long hair you look more like a queen.”

  I had to do something. Otherwise I would die. He was going to shoot me. No doubt about that.

  My plan was simple. I would drop to a squat and swing one leg out to sweep his feet out from under him. He would drop facedown and I would smash him in the side of the jaw as he fell. On the count of three I was going to execute my plan.

  One.

  “Turn around, Mr. Queen. Put your hands behind your back.”

  Two.

  “You listening to me, asshole? I told you to turn around.”

  Thr . . .

  Gunfire roared.

  Reflexively I dove for my gun, popped up onto one knee, and raised my weapon.

  I did not fire. No need to.

  In slow motion I saw Officer Miller’s body arch backward, his gun crashing to the porch floor, blood spreading across his skull. His eyes rolled up and he went down hard. Dark blood oozed from his head and pooled on the floor beside him.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw a figure emerge from the deep shadows. It was Carlos. His gun was still leveled at the dead cop.

  “He’s dead, Carlos. You killed him. You can lower the gun now.”

  “He’s really dead?”

  I nodded.

  “Four down, time to go,” I said, and holstered my gun.

  CHAPTER 66

  ELEVEN FIFTY-SEVEN P.M.

  “Let’s go, Carlos.”

  “Not till I shoot those other three bastards. Where’s Viper? He’s the next to die. What’d you do with him?”

  “Carlos, give me my gun back. We need to get out of here. Now.”

  “Look, you saved my life, and I owe you. But these bastards need to die. This thing needs to end right here and right now. Otherwise I’ll be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. And so will Anna. You want that? Huh? Do you?”

  “They’re going to die tonight, Carlos. Trust me, they’re going to die. We will too if we don’t get the hell out of here.”

  “You can leave if you want to. My work’s not done here.”

  I pointed my gun straight at him.

  “Don’t make me shoot your kneecap. Give me the gun.”

  Blazing headlights appeared in the distance. They sliced through the darkness as shifting panes of light streamed between trees and bounced up and down over the gravel driveway.

  Carlos and I plunged into the woods. We stopped on a slope and hid behind a log and peered down toward the house.

  A white Hummer slowed down, extinguished its headlights, and came to rest in front of the house. The driver, built like a rhinoceros, stepped out. He was wearing a sport coat over a T-shirt and his hair was slicked back. It was one of Frank Romano’s bodyguards. I kept watching to see if the ponytailed bodyguard was with him. And he was. He got out of the Hummer and stood beside the other guy. They chatted for a moment. Then they drew their weapons and fanned out across the driveway.

  Moments later the ponytailed guy saw Viper pinned beneath the Lincoln Town Car. He shot him dead. The sound echoed and faded.

  Both bodyguards stormed the porch. Needles, handcuffed to the pillar, looked up at them. A knife sliced across his throat.

  The screen door whined open and slammed shut. Right away the interior of the house glowed yellow and orange from a muzzle flash. A bullet for Officer Brown.

  The night fell quiet. It seemed like the bodyguards stayed in the house for a long time. Probably searching it. But there was nobody left to kill.

  Finally they stepped out onto the porch and stood scanning the area. They stood there for a while. Then they crossed the lawn and climbed into the Hummer. Red taillights disappeared down the long gravel driveway.

  “Who were those guys?” Carlos said.

  “I’ll tell you on the way to my motorcycle,” I said.

  When we got to the bottom of the driveway I took off the wig and removed the set of plastic teeth from my mouth. The temporary tattoos would have to come off later. The cop uniform would have to come off now. It would be risky to wear it while motorcycling down the highway. So I reached into my backpack and took out my street clothes and put them on.

  “Ready to roll, Carlos?” I said, and revved the engine.

  He climbed on behind me and we rode out of there.

  CHAPTER 67

  IT WAS AFTER one a.m. when we pulled into S’mores and Snores Campground. Dim lights glowed in a few camper windows, but the rest of the campground was dark. In the black velvet sky the stars glinted like white diamonds and the fat moon gleamed like a white pearl.

  I slowed my motorcycle. The chirring of night insects drowned out the low rumbling sound of my engine.

  Lights were on inside my motor home. My motorcycle rolled to a stop beside it. I was pretty sure Anna would still be awake.

  “Nice RV,” Carlos said, getting off the motorcycle.

  “I like it,” I said.

  We both turned to look when the entry door flew open and Anna jumped out. She ran frantically to Carlos and threw her arms around him and they hugged each other and they both cried.

  “Carlos,” she said, cupping his face with her hands, “your forehead, what happened to your forehead?”

  “They burned me with cigarettes. They were real bastards.”

  “You’d have bee
n proud of him, Anna,” I said. “He saved me from a bullet.”

  “I shot Artie,” Carlos told Anna. “Killed him. The other three are dead too. Some guys from the Romano family showed up and killed all three of them. We watched it happen and I enjoyed every second of it. Every second. Rip set the whole thing up. He arranged it so that the Romanos would come in and do all the dirty work for us. Anna, if you want to marry this guy, you have my blessing.”

  I laughed uncomfortably. I would rather take a bullet than a bride.

  Anna stretched up and kissed me lightly on the mouth and pulled back a little and locked eyes with me.

  “Rip, thank you. Thank you for everything. You saved Carlos and you saved me. We no longer have to worry about Viper. We can go on with our lives.”

  “I’ll send you my bill,” I said.

  We all went inside and Anna made some tacos and we sat around eating and talking and laughing until sunrise. It had been quite some time since I had pulled an all-nighter, and I was struggling to keep my eyes open. Finally I stood up, stretched until my muscles creaked, and then padded off to the bedroom. Anna joined me.

  We tried to keep our bedroom noises down while Carlos slept on the couch in the living room. Our lovemaking was more passionate than before. There was an urgency that had not existed before, an even greater closeness, a genuine sweetness. Our bodies were in harmony with our minds, with our feelings, with each other. There was no sense of loneliness or isolation. We responded to each other, to our special rhythms and needs, our demands of the flesh. Anna was aware of her sensuousness. She had it and she let me know she had it. She was bold and confident and knowing. My hands found the familiar swells and curves. By teasing her, making her wait, I drove her to terminal frenzy. When I took her I heard a sharp intake of breath. A rhythm began. It was the rhythm of life. Like a heartbeat. My mind lost control to my heart and my body.

  When I awoke later that morning Anna was already showered and dressed and lipsticked. She sat down on the bed beside me and told me Carlos had gone to work. She said he needed to go check on his adult entertainment club, make sure everything ran smoothly during his long absence. He was worried the place might have been damaged and mismanaged and God knows what else.

  “I need to go check on my house,” Anna told me. “It’s been so long since I’ve been there. Mail is probably piled up in the mailbox, and my front yard is probably littered with free weekly newspapers. Why don’t you come with me? We can stop and get some groceries on the way and I’ll make you a big dinner tonight and we can snuggle on the couch and watch some movies and eat some popcorn. You can see what my house looks like.”

  I wasn’t about to tell her I had seen it before. I wasn’t going to mention that I had broken into it. Some things are better left unsaid.

  “Count me in,” I said, and swung out of bed.

  I turned on the hot shower spray, soaped and scrubbed, face tilted up, eyes closed. The shower roared. Steam billowed out. I shaved everything that needed shaving, got out of the shower, and toweled myself dry.

  Knuckles rapped on the bathroom door and Anna stuck her head in and handed me a steaming mug of coffee. I sipped some of my coffee, holding the mug in both hands.

  “You’re going to spoil me, Anna.”

  “You deserve some spoiling.”

  After I got dressed I made a bowl of oats and blueberries and took it outside to eat. Anna kept me company. We sat peacefully at the edge of the blue shimmering lake, watching the rowboats bob up and down in the gentle waves. It was a bright and breezy day.

  Anna put her hand on my knee.

  “Did you pack some clothes, Rip?”

  “Didn’t know I was supposed to.”

  “You’re going to stay at my house for a while, aren’t you?”

  When I had finished packing I got on my motorcycle and pulled up behind Anna’s car and signaled for her to lead the way.

  CHAPTER 68

  FOR THREE DAYS Anna and I stayed in her house and explored the world of ourselves, making new discoveries, adventuring across every frontier, entering unchartered territory.

  We shared our photos and our stories of our past. We cooked good food. We made love. For me the intense companionship was like an oasis in the desert.

  On the fourth day Anna began to look for a job. She had been out of work for some time and her bills were beginning to pile up. After two days of searching she was hired as a waitress at Pita Pan.

  She decided not to resume her night classes until the following semester. She had missed too many classes.

  While Anna spent her days at Pita Pan I worked on my novel. Commuting back and forth between her house and my motor home would have been inconvenient, so I brought my laptop over to her house and spent my days writing at the kitchen table. It felt good to finally get some chapters written.

  To break up my day I would stop writing at ten a.m. and go out for a run. After my run I would do some bodyweight training. Then I would shower and eat lunch and get back to my writing.

  I found myself missing Anna when she was gone. Really missing her. It made me uneasy. I had not known her that long.

  Every night she returned home after work and told me how her day went and then listened to how my day went. Some nights we went for long walks before dinner. Other nights we engaged in more vigorous activities.

  On the weekends we took overnight trips to various places around Missouri. Most of the time we took my motor home and stayed at either a campground or an RV park or a state park. There were two or three weekends when we decided to stay at a hotel instead.

  In Branson, which has more theater seats than Broadway, we watched some shows. We saw Amazing Acrobats of Shanghai, Clay Cooper’s Country Express, and Legends in Concert. We took a ride aboard the Branson Scenic Railway and ate dinner in a vintage railroad car. At Table Rock Lake, which spans more than forty-three thousand acres and eight hundred miles of shoreline, we had a picnic lunch and went on a boat cruise.

  In Hannibal we went to see the Mark Twain Boyhood Home and Museum. The famous author had lived there from the ages of seven to eighteen. The museum contained his original manuscripts and the desk he used to write The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. As an aspiring novelist I enjoyed the visit thoroughly.

  In Jefferson City we went to see the Governor’s Mansion, the Missouri State Capitol, and the Missouri State Penitentiary. The penitentiary, before it closed, used to be the oldest operating penal facility west of the Mississippi River. It was named the “bloodiest forty-seven acres in America” by Time magazine. Famous inmates included Kate Richards O’Hare, Charles Arthur “Pretty Boy” Floyd, and James Earl Ray.

  In Kansas City we visited a number of museums. American Jazz Museum. Arabia Steamboat Museum. Kansas City Museum. Kemper Museum of Contemporary Art. Money Museum. National Museum of Toys and Miniatures. National World War I Museum.

  In Springfield we explored Fantastic Caverns. A tram took us all the way through the cave. We never had to walk. The temperature in the cave was a cool sixty degrees Fahrenheit. It was a nice break from the summer heat. I finally learned the difference between stalactites and stalagmites. The former hang from the cave ceiling, the latter grow from the cave floor. Knowing this bit of trivia made me feel like one of those geniuses on the Jeopardy TV show.

  Our weekend getaways were time away from everything except each other. The time flew by like a whirlwind.

  Anna had lived her entire life in Missouri, yet she had never seen much of it. It was a great joy for me to explore the state with her. The nickname for Missouri is the Show Me State. Anna and I showed it to each other.

  CHAPTER 69

  ONE SUNNY WEEKEND afternoon we drove out to a local park and took a leisurely walk. I put my hand out and she took it and we smiled at each other. Birds moved in the trees above us, fluttering about, chirping to each other. A summer breeze carried the scent of cut grass and blooming flowers.

  “I feel lucky,” Anna said. “Lucky you came into my li
fe. I don’t feel . . . empty anymore.”

  “I feel lucky too,” I said.

  We were quiet, holding hands, strolling along the shaded walkway. Anna seemed pensive. Almost philosophical. Something was on her mind. We walked in silence for a while before she finally spoke again.

  “Rip?”

  “Yes?”

  “I . . . I don’t want to lose you.”

  “I don’t want to lose you either.”

  “I’ve never felt this way before. Not about anybody. Ever. You are . . . You’re different. Special. You listen well. Like you really care. You are smart and funny and handsome. You treat me better than any man has ever treated me. You make me feel alive. You make me feel loved. I never had that, you know, and I don’t want to lose it.”

  “What makes you think you’ll lose me?”

  “You haven’t exactly proposed yet.”

  Here we go. The beginning of the end. This is when I always lose them. They always want to put me in a cage. It never works. I tried the cage once. That was enough.

  Lovers should be like library books. You don’t own them. You pick one up, check it out, bring it home. Then you begin to read it. This is where the joy is. In the reading. In the journey. In seeing how each story begins, how the plot progresses, how the characters evolve. If your library book is not a good read, you can return it and check out a different book. There are plenty to choose from. But you cannot do this if you bought the book. You cannot trade it in for something more interesting. No, you have to keep the book. Even if you don’t want it. So you stick it on a shelf. You forget about it. You let it get dusty. And nobody ever reads the book again.

  “Anna,” I said, “there’s nothing wrong with just dating.”

  “Yes there is. Dating is only a temporary relationship. Marriage is a real relationship. A commitment.”