Birdtown
“I told you on the way that I don’t cook,” Maura said, dropping a stack of carry out menus in front of Griff at her kitchen table—mostly from the pizza, Mexican, and Chinese restaurants in downtown Amelia.
“No problem.”
Maura studied the confused look on Griff’s face. “What?”
“So…how well do you get along with all the soccer moms here in suburbia?”
“Just peachy. We all swap Jell-O salad recipes at the PTA meetings and whisper scandalously amongst ourselves about the how-to-keep-a-man hints in Cosmo.”
“Sorry. I just didn’t picture you as living in a cookie cutter kind of neighborhood like this.”
“Hey, Birdtown is nice. It’s clean. It’s quiet. The people are…well, they’re not the type of people I have to deal with at work.”
“I’ll bet not. But…” Griff looked out the sliding glass door. “But I can see into, what ten or fifteen of your neighbors’ back yards.”
“Yeah, well, nothing happens in here for them to drool over.”
“What a crime.”
Maura blushed.
Griff smiled.
“And it won’t. And if you don’t behave, I’ll make you sleep on the futon in the rec room downstairs—in the basement.”
“Rec room?”
“Stop it. Just stop it. I’d rather be back across the river with Johnny, but Ohio residency is a licensing requirement.”
“Well, I guess this is as good a place as any to hide out from the law—ironic as it is—what you being a bounty hunter and all. I still can't picture you pushing a lawn mower around the yard on Saturday mornings.”
“That’s why God created snot-nosed neighbor kids. Now, what do you want for dinner?”
Griff shuffled through the menus. “Chinese sounds good. Something hot. Szechuan or Hunan chicken works. How’s the Peking House?”
“I like their beef lo mein. Pork fried rice and egg rolls?”
Griff nodded. “How about some crab Rangoon, too?”
“Sure. I’ll call.”
When Maura left to get their food, Griff called Lance.
“What did you find out?” Lance answered.
“Eply’s dead. And I'm Number One with a bullet on the suspect list.”
Silence.
“You're going to need to get someone to the ranch, pronto, to clean things up,” Griff said.
“You're serious.”
“As a fucking myocardial infarction. There's an arrest warrant out already.”
“How does that happen?” Lance asked.
“The same way Cliff Nickolson and Donald Wallace get themselves dead.”
“Call Ben.” Lance exhaled loudly. “Wilkinson and I will take care of it—personally. What do you need there? Who should I call?”
“This E.J. Leonard guy says he can make this all go away.”
“The old guy? You think he can handle it?”
“He does seem to know everybody in town and anybody who's somebody that’s ever landed a Learjet in this berg. And he’s got a plan.”
“Yeah, well, Custer had a plan, too, until he ran into you people,” Lance said. “It’s your ass on the line, not mine. What about bail?”
“He intends to quash this thing at the preliminary hearing. If I sit it out in jail, they have to do it in ten days. Not so, if I’m out on bail. So, the quicker the sooner is better for me.”
“Anyway, whatever you need.”
“Thanks, Lance.”
“Where’s Helena?”
“New York City.”
“Good. Does she know?”
Griff shook his head. “No. I haven’t called.”
“Maybe it’ll blow over before she finds out.”
“Not likely. She’s got family here about, remember?”
“Anyway, give this Leonard guy my number—my cell number—and tell him to call me when the hearing’s scheduled. And tell him if he needs anything—anything at all—to call.”
“Thanks.”
“Let Ben know we’ll be out there tomorrow. Wait ‘til you hear from me before you turn yourself in.”
“Okay.”
Griff was on the phone with Ben when Maura got back from the Peking House. She asked, “You need a minute?”
He shook his head. “Yeah. You know what to do. He’ll be there tomorrow, but make sure you give him a call if something—anything—comes up. I gave you his number, right?”
Griff listened.
Maura set out plates and silverware, then pulled the square white buckets of Chinese food out of the bag.
“Take good care of Rodya, and I’ll see you in a couple of weeks—or maybe a couple of decades.” Griff hung up and set down his phone.
“Rodya?” Maura asked.
“My buddy. Of the four-legged variety.”
“What kind of name is that for a dog?”
“Well, he’s a Siberian Husky—and the name is from Dostoyevsky. Crime and Punishment, as a matter of fact. Ain’t that ironical?”
“Don’t worry. Papa will take care of this for you. Now, come on, let’s eat.”
Griff just nodded.
Maura retrieved a couple of Budweiser longnecks from the fridge. They filled their plates in silence and ate.
“You sure you want to get involved in this mess? And get your grandfather involved?”
“What mess?”
“You know what I do, right?”
“Actually, no. What’s your MOS?”
Griff smiled. “I don’t think there’s a code for it.”
“I kind of figured we’re sort of in the same line of work, though on opposite sides of the aisle.”
“Let’s just say I get things done that need getting done.”
“Yeah. Me, too. And what is it that Helena needs done?” Maura squinted at Griff over her fork full of lo mein. “Come on. I am part of your legal team. And, I’ve got a few semesters of law school under my belt.”
“Going into the family business?”
“I might. Might not be as action-packed as my present-day job, but, you know, suburbia kind of grows on you.”
Griff laughed under his breath. “Create some snot-nosed kids of your own someday to cut your neighbors’ lawns?”
“Maybe. If I find the right fella.” Maura smiled, then scowled at Griff. “So, what does Helena need to get done?”
“She said…” Griff skated a nugget of Szechuan chicken around on his plate. He took a deliberate breath. “She said she wanted to get back some personal items of her father’s that went missing. He died in a helicopter crash, but…”
“But?”
“But…it was definitely no boating accident.”
“And she knew?”
Griff speared the nugget and shoved it into his mouth, thinking as he chewed. He slowly nodded his head. “She knew. I mean, deep down she knew something wasn’t right. That’d be my guess. But whether she knew what a cluster fuck it would all turn into…I don’t know. Maybe. But how could anyone ever imagine such a mad conspiracy? The government. Google. Assassins and some uber-rich blonde…”
“And you.”
“And me.” Griff shook his head. “You sure you want in on this?”
“I don’t scare easy.” Maura smiled. “And neither does Papa.”
***~~~***