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Wednesday, January 23, 2019

Fiction: Finsoup (a novel) [34]

Bedfellows

By edRogers

[Reviewed here on the novel’s publication day, October 6, 2018: “Coming soon to a Barnes & Noble store near you?”]

Charlie still had a key to his rental house, whose lease wasn’t up until the end of the month. He parked his bike beside the front door and went in. He hadn’t seen the blow-up coming. Maybe he should have, because he knew that the killing of the guard had more of an impact on Margot than he had foreseen. But he never thought he would find himself alone.
    It had been two weeks since he left his house. He and Margot had been so busy after the storm, he never made it back here. The boards with all the department heads’ names and who worked for them were still standing in front of the couch and chairs, but he would be the only one to ever see them again. He guessed they needed burning, along with a lot of other stuff that could bring him into question.
    Charlie poured himself a rum on ice, cut a piece of lime, and squeezed it into the glass. He walked over and flopped on the couch. He was alone now and not sure what to do next, but quitting wasn’t in the cards, or even part of his DNA. He took a drink and began to go through the pile of papers on the coffee table.
    He was on his second drink when he ran across Agent Nowak’s phone number. He leaned back on the couch and sipped his drink. Those D.E.A. agents, Nowak and Morris, couldn’t be very happy about being kicked out of Costa Rica. He wondered whether they would be interested in some payback.
    He made a third drink and pulled Skype up on his computer and dialed Nowak’s number. It rang three times and Charlie was about to hang up when a voice asked, “Who is this?”
    “Charlie Blankenship, from Costa Rica. Is this agent Nowak?”
    “Aren’t you the guy that was on that boat?”
    “The same.”
    “I heard you made it back alive. What can I do for you, Mr. Blankenship?”
    “I have an idea as to how to get back at the people that tried to kill me and disgraced you.”
    “We weren’t disgraced.”
    “Bullshit. They ran you out of town on a rail. You were like whipped dogs running to the airport with your tails between your legs. What I need to know is, do you want to settle the score?”
    “Agent Morris and I might be interested in hearing your plan.”
    “Can you meet me in Nicaragua?”
    “Let me get in touch with Morris. Is this a good number to reach you?”
    “Yes, it is. It’s a Skype number but it’s forwarded to my cell phone.”
    “I’ll get back to you in a day or two.”
    “I’ll be looking forward to hearing from you.”
    Charlie clicked off Skype and leaned back on the couch. Margot and the others were about to miss out on the payoff.


Margot was packing everything she could find that belonged to Charlie, occasionally wiping the tears from her eyes and mumbling, “There’s no fool like an old fool.”
    She didn’t blame Charlie as much as she did herself; after all, she was the one who pulled him into her mess and seduced him. Her inner voice had screamed at her not to sleep with him, but she was blinded by her lust. She had let things get out of hand. Now everybody was paying for her stupid mistake.
    Margot did understand that she had gone too far. She should never have brought up the killing of the guard. There was no need to share with the others the guilt she felt, but once the floodgates were opened she couldn’t stop herself.
    Her dream of saving the sharks was over. There was nothing left. She had tried everything and lost everything. It was time to admit defeat and go home. Paris in the Christmas season was a wonderland. Maybe being back there would refresh her soul and fill the emptiness she felt.
    Her phone rang just as she was dropping the bag of Charlie’s stuff at the side of her front door. “Hello.”
    “This is Agent Nowak, Ms. Rosenburg.”
    “What can I do for you, Agent Nowak?”
    “I had a phone call from your friend, Mr. Blankenship.”
    “You did, did you?”
    “Yes, and he seemed to have some plan to get back at the people who tried to kill him. Do you know anything about that?”
    “I’m sorry, Agent Nowak, but I don’t know about any plan Charlie might have.”
    “Well, Ms. Rosenburg, he wants Agent Morris and me to meet him in Nicaragua, and I was wondering if it will be worth our time or not.”
    “Agent Nowak, as mad as he was for you leaving him to die out on that boat, I doubt he would have contacted you unless he had something that you’d be interested in.”
    “Thank you, Ms. Rosenburg. I saw it the same way. Good night.”
    Margot put the cell phone back on the coffee table. “Charlie, what the hell are you up to now?”


Juan pulled into his yard. He and his wife were still moving things from the attic that were stored there during the storm. Cleaning the mud from the house had been a nightmare, but other than the broken banana trees and the water that ran along one side of the yard, things were just about back where they belonged. Now that he was finished with Charlie and all that crap, he would get the house back in shape in no time.
    He couldn’t believe he had let himself get mixed up with such an incompetent bunch of people. They didn’t understand that Tai could end up needing to trade something for his freedom one day and that trade could be the dead guard. Tai may have thought Morales did the killing but Morales knew better. A match of the bullet that killed the guard with the bullet that was on record with the police would lead right back to him. But now Charlie had claimed to have done the killing in front of two men who had nothing to lose by selling them out.


Howard and Tommy were having drinks at Howard’s house. “Howard, how much responsibility do we have for that guard’s death?”
    “I’m not sure, but in a bank robbery, the guy driving the car is as guilty as the ones in the bank.”
    Tommy finished his drink and got up to make another one. As he mixed his drink he told Howard, “I don’t plan on going to jail for something I had no say in doing. We’ve got to tell Morales.”
    “I would guess the driver of the getaway car felt the same when he found out the others had killed someone in the bank, but telling Morales won’t help us.”
    “Howard, there has to be some way to get out of this.”
    Howard got up and handed Tommy his empty glass to be refilled. “The only thing I can say, Tommy, is to keep your mouth closed. Right now there is no investigation and no reason to think there will be one. We forget the conversation at Margot’s house ever happened. And we stay the hell away from them all.”
    Tommy handed Howard his drink. “Promise me that if it does get too close we’ll go to Morales.”
    “We’ll do that, but only if we have too.”


“Morris, this is Mike Nowak.”
    “How’re ya doing, Mike?”
    “I’m doing okay, still smarting over the Costa Rican thing.”
    “I know what you mean, but there’s nothing to be done about it.”
    “There may be something after all. I just got a call from that guy who was left on the boat. He lived, you know?”
    “What the hell did he want?”
    “He says he has a plan to get back at Tai and the rest of them but he needs our help. He wants us to meet him in Nicaragua.”
    “Are you thinking about going?”
    “It won’t hurt to hear what he has to say.”
    “Okay, I can take off Friday. Let him know we’ll fly down on Friday and back on Sunday. Will that work for you?”
    “I’ll get the tickets and see you at the airport.”


Copyright © 2018 by Ed Rogers

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