Thursday, May 31, 2012

Magic Town, Chapter 8

Jeff, finds himself in Atlanta wanting to get out of the hotel on a Friday night. In the Atlanta Underground he meets up with Pick, a sly con man who takes Jeff around the Underground ending up at the notorious Magic Town strip club. There’s only one problem: Jeff is the spitting image of a corrupt congressman! Nancy, the beautiful FBI agent with the golden eyes takes Jeff on the ride of his life. With three climax scenes, this story will make you want to get to the next page!


Chapter 8 of Magic Town ...

Saturday, 8:17 AM: What a Mess

Jeff finds himself in the house they were watching––with three murdered people and the congressman shot! The chaos of agents running in and out of the house leaves Jeff baffled as he sits on the couch as Shonna instructed him. He notices a sport coat exactly like his, pulls it over reaching into the pockets he discovers it’s the congressman’s jacket! Inside he finds all sorts of printouts that describe a criminal enterprise of enormous proportion, and in the side pocket Jeff discovers a gun! Back at the hotel they pore over Jeff’s discovery piecing together the scale of this criminal enterprise ...

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Thanks for taking time, and enjoy!
- Chris Lamela



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Author contact: Chris Lamela, chris@chrislamela.com, 707-566-8790 PST

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           Magic Town, Chapter 8

Saturday, 8:17 AM: What a Mess

      She flung the binoculars onto the back seat, it clanked against the camera as she started the car flooring it leaving a long trail of skid mark and smoke behind the car the car screamed toward the yellow house, driving up over the curb onto the scrabbly little bit of lawn in front of the house careening sideways stopping just three feet short of the building.
     Shonna leapt from the car, Jeff saw a flash of Shonna running around the car holding a pistol in her right hand with Jeff wondering where the hell she had a gun this whole time.
     Timidly, Jeff opened the car door stepping out needing to stretch from having been in it so long. Slowly he walked up to the opened house door peering inside. There was nobody in the small living room. Suddenly he heard Shonna screaming, “OH MY GOD! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS! PERKINS WHAT HAPPENED!”
     Slowly Jeff crept through the living room looking carefully around him. There was a coffee table in the living room strewn with coffee cups. A sport coat lay across the back of the couch. He stepped to the left, poked his head into the kitchen seeing a coffee pot half-filled with the warmer still on, a couple dishes in the sink.
     He crept slowly toward the bedroom hallway. Just as he got to the hall, Perkins appeared in front of him looking down at Jeff startled, dumfounded he took a step back, his jaw dropped.
     Jeff looked up at him wondering what was going on, “Perkins right?” The bouncer looked at him blankly, barely nodding. “What’s the deal?”
     “You, you––” Perkins stuttered like he was trying to catch his breath, Jeff could see he was struggling for some reason trying to gain composure.
     Shonna stepped out of the bedrooms, “Perkins, this is a mess and I’ve got to figure out what to do here, but there’s gonna be police and you shouldn’t be here.”
     “Okay, miss Shonna, but––” motioning to Jeff.
     “Perkins, go!”
     “Okay if you say so, theys nothin’ you need from me?”
     She reached up touching him on the shoulder, “No, I’m sorry you had to see all this, but I really need to call the police, it would be bad for you to be here, don’t you think?”
     He nodded, thanked her, turned, walked out of the house, she followed him. Jeff watched her standing at the door. He could hear Perkins’s car start up, pulling away as she stood at the door with her back to Jeff. A few seconds after Perkins drove away he watched, Shonna crossing her arms stiffly across her chest without saying a word.
     Less than five seconds later Jeff heard what sounded like two cars with high-powered engines screeching to a stop only feet from the front of the house. Four men ran in behind Shonna, she passed quickly into the house, across the living room heading to the bedrooms, snapping to Jeff, “Stay out here, the couch!” he nodded, they sprinted into the bedrooms.
     Jeff sat down on the couch with elbows on his knees, his head spinning, tightness in his stomach like cramps. It was full daylight outside. He glanced around him seeing the sport coat hanging over the back of the couch. Impulsively, he reached around him picking up the coat to inspect it. It reeked of aftershave or cologne; he couldn’t place the smell or the brand. He looked at it closely, holding it to the coat he was wearing. An exact match. He looked at the label. Calvin Klein. Jeff laughed to himself, pulled open his coat seeing Calvin Klein, “Jesus, I wonder what brand of underwear he wears!” He laid it over his knees, began going through the pockets.
     The right inside pocket had a money clip with a wad of twenties. He very gingerly pulled two of the twenties out of the bundle being careful not to touch the gold money clip. There was a Mount Blanc pen. Using the twenties as gloves, Jeff pulled off the cap seeing blue ink on the tip. There was a gold business card case embossed with the Congressional logo, filled with cards, Honorable Frank Schedz, United Stated House of Representatives. There was one of his business cards loose in the pocket with blue pen writing on the back, what looked like initials and numbers with a percent sign next to each set of initials. The lettering was very neat block printing in blue ink, carefully done like it was the writer’s habit.
     Using the two twenties over his fingers, he gingerly pulled out a neatly tri-folded set of papers from the other pocket, maybe twenty five pages he guessed. The first page looked like some kind of a summary with a column of dates going back to the first of November, to the right of each date were dollar figures which he guessed averaged about a hundred thousand dollars a day. The next page looked like a more detailed account with a date on the top, the top page having a date from two days ago. There were columns on each page with a sum on the bottom of one of the columns. The next page was in the same format with another sum at the bottom. Each page was in the same form with the dates going back one day at a time, twenty days to the first of November. The summary page had a bottom number of just over two million dollars for the twenty days. He flipped through the pages realizing that the summary page had the sum numbers with the dates for each of these single-day reports.
     “Wow,” he said to himself, “That’s three million dollars a month,” with a low whistle, “nearly forty million dollars a year!” Jeff thought about what that kind of money can buy here in 1994. This is a staggering sum!
     Jeff sat back realizing that this stack of papers was the evidence of all the corruption that Shonna told him about.
     He looked back at the summary page seeing that every other number was circled in blue ink with lines leading to the letters ‘FS $1.12 M’ in the right border, written in the same neat block printing on the back of the card. “FS is Frank Schedz,” he said softly out loud, “he’s taking half! Or maybe he wants half?”
     There was one more single sheet, with a series of two letters in a column, percentage numbers next to each one. Jeff looked at the writing on the back of the card, saw they were some of the same initials that appeared on the page, the page had a big X scratched across the page in the same color ink as the writing on the card, obviously saying that this page was no good. The page had crinkled stretches like it had been pulled on from two sides, pulled between two competing hands. He couldn’t help saying out loud, “Someone pulled this out of someone’s hand. There was anger here!” He tried to think what this all meant.
     Oh, my god, he was really in it, just like she said! He sat back recalling all the things that Shonna told him, mulling the conversations they had as they watched the house this morning.
     He felt the rest of the coat thinking there would be nothing because his coats always had the outside pockets sewn shut, he felt a heavy bulge in the right outside pocket, reached in pulling out a thirty-eight snub-nosed revolver, holding it gingerly with one of the twenties. It was a Colt Cobra, a small handful of gun with a tiny short two-inch barrel. He half-smiled because he once owned one just like it but sold it because you can’t hit the broad side of a barn with it. He looked into the cylinder, there were bullets in the four positions he could see. He laughed to himself, “I guess a guy can’t be too careful!” He put it back into the coat’s side pocket, folded all the papers together putting them, the card case, pen, single card back into the pockets they came from.
     He heard loud talking in the bedrooms, people walking back and forth between two doors. He couldn’t see into the rooms from where he sat.
     Soon Jeff heard the rushing of cars outside. Somehow he was expecting lights and sirens. No lights, no sirens. In a minute three men rushed in, one in front, a gurney being pulled and pushed by the others. They were nearly running. He stood up to look after them when Shonna came out into the living room.
     Jeff looked at her hearing his voice sound almost panicked, “What’s going on?”
     “Okay, time to get you the hell out of here. Come on, let’s go.” Without another word she nearly ran out of the house, Jeff started to follow her when he had a second thought running back to scoop up the sports coat. Soon the car was speeding down the road. Jeff looked at his watch, nearly nine o’clock.
     “Where’s your hotel?”
     Jeff directed her to the Sheraton near the airport. When they reached the hotel twenty minutes later Shonna drove around the building away from the frontage road and freeway, without a word parked, got out of the car. Jeff grabbed the smelly coat following her up to a back door. He reached into his pocket fumbling for his hotel key, turning the lock he opened the door. Shonna scanned the parking lot, following Jeff inside.
     Jeff turned to Shonna as they walked along the hotel hallway, “So did Perkins know you as Shonna back there?”
     “That’s all he knows me as.”
     “Why did he think you came there, I mean wouldn’t that be confusing to him?”
     “He set up the meeting because I told him that I needed to talk to the congressman, he didn’t know what the meeting was about. Of course nobody knew that all those people would be there. I guess he showed up without knowing all those people were there, he went in expecting to see the congressman and a couple other people.” She shook her head, “Instead he walks in on a murder. Poor guy.”
     “Murder? There were dead people in that house?”
     “Yep.”
     “How many?”
     “Three dead, the congressman was still alive.”
     “Wow,” Jeff wondered sitting back. Murdered while he was sitting in that car watching the house with Shonna. He felt a cold chill rush up his spine.
     Jeff turned to her, “Did he tell you why he took so long in the house?”
     “He said he was trying to render assistance. That would make sense. Maybe he panicked a little.” They came to the elevators, he leaned forward pressing the button. “He’s not the brightest bulb in the pack, so I’m sure he was really confused. It was a hell of a scene, pretty nasty. I’m really glad you didn’t have to see it.”
     After a short elevator ride they walked down the fifth floor hallway toward Jeff’s hotel room door. He stepped over a copy of USA Today on the hallway floor, opened the door, Shonna followed scooping up the newspaper, next standing in Jeff’s room. It was surreal to be back in his room, all nice and tranquil, bed made neatly, his suit case sitting on the stand, ironing board out from him pressing his shirt yesterday afternoon before heading down to the shuttle.
     “What do you have there?” She reached out for the coat.
     Jeff started to hand it to her, instead he laid it out on the bed, pulled the twenties out of his pocket, gingerly using them as gloves to empty the contents of the coat’s pockets onto the bed. She gave him a quick smile, “Smart, no fingerprints.” Shonna sat down on the bed, reached into her purse pulling out a little plastic packet, ripped it open with her teeth, spilling out white light-fabric gloves onto the bed. She put them on, began studying the papers. She picked up the card with the scribbles on back shaking her head. “Jesus, the total smoking gun.”
     Jeff looked over her shoulder, “Are those initials?”
     “You sure you didn’t get your fingerprints on this stuff?”
     “You will find my prints on these two twenties and nothing else.” He smiled proudly waving them clutched in fingers, “Sherlock Holmes!”
     She turned around, studied him, burst out laughing at Jeff holding the twenties in his fingers, laughing again even harder, laughing so hard tears appeared in her eyes, started rolling down her cheeks. Jeff couldn’t help start laughing himself, that contagious effect plus they were so exhausted that it felt like that’s all they could do at that moment.
   Finally she caught herself. “Oh, yes, yes, yes, Jeffery, you are my Watson, aren’t you?”
   Jeff smiled, wiping tears from his cheeks. They both felt better.
   She turned, started looking through the ledger pages glancing up at him with a questioning expression. She began to paw again through the ledger sheets, “These are my accounting sheets, the ones that I did in that damned room in the basement of the club.”
     “They were in his coat pocket.”
     “These are definitely mine, see the little black pen scribble initials on the bottom? They required me to do that as a way to somehow make sure they are authentic, from me.” She flipped between the pages making note of the dates on top of each, “They’re out of order, that’s good, that means they’ve been handled, that’s really good. God, I’ll bet these are a harvest of finger prints!”
    She paused looking at the whole stack. “But how did the congressman get these?”
    “When you do your accounting, where does your stuff go to?”
     “Antonio.”
     “Antonio? Who’s Antonio?”
     “The owner of the club.”
     Shonna stood up reaching for the phone, “I need to use your phone, but you need to step out. Go get us some coffee, be back in ten minutes.”
   Jeff stood up, feeling a wave of tired as he drifted to the door, back ten minutes later with two coffees and four pastries.
     He took a sip of the coffee, two bites of a donut, slumped into the stuffed chair in the corner.
     Shonna was just finishing a call, “Okay, you set up the first for five downtown, I’ll set up the other for tonight. You can arrange all that? At ops?” she scribbled in her notebook. “No, no escort, I got him. Could use a guard in the hotel hallway here.” Listening to the other end. “You know how dangerous this is, right? If something happens to him we are so screwed.” She glanced over her shoulder to Jeff, listened. “Yeah, a score for sure. Okay, he’ll get some sleep, then we’ll come see you there.”
     She hung up turning to Jeff. “Okay, we figured out what to do with you.”
     He looked to her questioningly. She smiled.
     “Welcome to the United States House of Representatives!”

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MAGIC TOWN !

http://chrislamela.blogspot.com/2012/06/magic-town-chapter-9.html


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Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Magic Town, Chapter 6

Jeff, finds himself in Atlanta wanting to get out of the hotel on a Friday night. In the Atlanta Underground he meets up with Pick, a sly con man who takes Jeff around the Underground ending up at the notorious Magic Town strip club. There’s only one problem: Jeff is the spitting image of a corrupt congressman! Nancy, the beautiful FBI agent with the golden eyes takes Jeff on the ride of his life. With three climax scenes, this story will make you want to get to the next page!


Chapter 6 of Magic Town ...

Saturday, 5:08 AM: Bernice and the Diner

Shonna takes Jeff to a shoddy little coffee shop where Jeff discovers the shocking truth about why he has been suddenly thrust into this middle of the biggest corruption scandal in Atlanta history!

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Thanks for taking time, and enjoy!
- Chris Lamela


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Author contact: Chris Lamela, chris@chrislamela.com, 707-566-8790 PST

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           Magic Town, Chapter 6

Saturday, 5:08 AM: Bernice and the Diner

     Soon the buildings started to get taller, occasionally Jeff could see the high-rises of downtown Atlanta still lit up, getting just a little closer. The car pulled to a curb in a seedy neighborhood with taller buildings. Jeff figured they were still south of downtown. Without a word, Shonna got out of her car, Jeff did the same. She pointed across the street to a tiny little coffee shop, the only lighted-up building along the darkened street.
     “Why here?” he asked peering around the dismal scene as they crossed the street.
     “It’s either here or a Waffle House. And there’s way too many eyes in those places.”
     Jeff shrugged following her across the street. They pushed through the door, straight back to the farthest corner booth away from windows. There was one man, looked homeless with his big stuffed plastic bag on the bench seat next to him, a half-empty coffee cup in front of him, his head back, snoring. The entire rest of the room was empty, no sign of anyone behind the counter.
     Shonna slid into the booth, Jeff slid into the opposite side along the pink plastic-covered bench seat trying to move over a big rip near the end, stuffing bulging out. Shonna took a napkin from the dispenser sweeping what looked like a dried spaghetti noodle onto the floor.
     Jeff looked up at the bright florescent lights, the translucent cover of one hanging down over the cash register so that bare blue-white light bathed the cash register like some kind of religious icon at the Vatican. A row of swivel chairs turned every which way in the same bright pink upholstery were lined up in front of the lunch counter. The walls were gray, tinted with old cigarette smoke, the floors of black linoleum tiles with wiggles of gray lines. The whole room had a dingy worn-out look.
     Depressing.
     “So, are you in the game?”
     Jeff did a double take, “What?” He leaned forward. “What game?”
     “Look, there’s no way I know you from Moses, but something tells me we can trust you, and nobody knows who you are.” She paused with a deep sigh. “Look, I can’t tell you everything, but we have a situation that needs your help.”
     “But why me?” She didn’t answer.
     Jeff looked around wishing he had a cup of coffee to hold, that soothing hot black liquid that helps the start of a day feel more cohesive. “Can we get some coffee?”
     Shonna cupped her hands around her mouth shouting to the kitchen window, “Bernice!” In a few seconds a rotund black woman in a white apron and hair net pushed through the aluminum swinging door from the kitchen waddling up to the table holding a coffee pot in one hand, two cups in the other. Jeff smiled at her movements which were actually quicker than he thought she could do given her girth.
     “Okay, okay, Shonna, coffee for you and the gennleman, ah sees ya.” She set two cups down with a bang, filling the cups with the pot never getting within two feet of the table, all without spilling a drop, turned without another word pushing back through into the kitchen, the dented silver-painted metal door swinging behind her.
     Jeff tried to sip the steaming black liquid, looked to Shonna. “Better.”
     “Okay, then?” she asked. Jeff nodded at her, sipping again. “It’s gonna be light here soon. We have to do a little stakeout, then we are going to find someone that we need to find, have a little talk with him, and you are going to have to be somebody you are not.” She could see the puzzled expression on Jeff’s face.
     He suddenly noticed that she had a kind of lisp when she spoke. Not really a lisp, just the slightest touch of her tongue to her teeth as she spoke. It was so light, barely audible, it gave her soft voice a certain character that he didn’t notice before. He had already thought that her voice had no distinct traits, certainly not a voice that you would pick out in a crowd. The lisp, or whatever it was suddenly caught his ear.
     “Look, it’s simple really.” She bent her neck to look up into his face to catch his eye. “Are you listening? Look, there is a certain, let’s call him a respectable citizen, who got himself into a certain situation, and now he can’t get back out. Without help. The problem is that if his situation got out to the wrong people a lot of other people would probably get hurt.” She looked at Jeff who she could see was trying to follow along. “And things could get nasty if it’s not done right.”
     “What kind of nasty?”
     “People could get hurt.” Her eyes darted sideways as if in very quick thought, back intently into Jeff’s eyes, “Killed.”
     “Now wait a minute, I’m not signing up to get killed!”
     “No, no, there’s no chance of that. There’s only one little thing you have to do, you will be totally covered the whole time.”
     “Covered? You’re not any little bookkeeper are you? Who the hell are you?
     “I can’t tell you that.” She paused looking intently into Jeff’s eyes. “Let’s just say that I’m one of the good guys. And this particular gentleman we are talking about is also a good guy, at least we think.” She paused. “But okay, maybe he made some bad mistakes. But we are surrounded by some really bad guys.”
     “Bad guys?”
     “Yes, I told you that already. Really, really, bad guys. But not the kind of bad guys that go around shooting people.”
     “If they don’t shoot, then what makes them so bad?”
     “They shoot alright, but the bullets they use are extortion and blackmail.” She leaned over the table looking into his eyes, “And those bullets can hurt worse than the other ones. Those bullets don’t take away lives, those bullets ruin lives.
     “Extortion. Blackmail.” Jeff said those words almost to himself in a low voice, he shook his head sleepily, looking back to her, “But why me?”
     “Because––” She turned looking around her, stood up to reach back for a newspaper laying on the table behind her. She straightened it out laying it in front of Jeff.
     “Look at this picture.” She pointed to the picture he had seen in the newspaper rack at the train station through the dingy plastic that he couldn’t see through. “This is why you!”
     Jeff stared at the picture in utter disbelief, “Wait, that’s me!”
     “No, it’s not you, but it could be your goddamned twin brother! Your hair’s a little shorter, curlier maybe, that’s all, but men don’t notice things like that. That would take a woman’s eye.” How true Jeff thought. How true. A woman’s eye. The eye for detail with the detailed memory that not a man on earth possesses. Not even really gay ones. He half-laughed at the thought of the thousands of times that he and his wife would be out and about when she would make some comment about someone they see when he realized that she must be wearing glasses of a different color or something because she could see details that were completely lost on him. Or when she would get her hair cut or colored, two days later she would have to say, “You didn’t say anything about my hair, you like it?” He would suddenly realize what a dope he is saying yeah that he had noticed, that he forgot to say anything knowing damn well that she knew he didn’t notice. Oh, yes, the eye for detail that men just don’t have a single chromosome for.
     Jeff suddenly snapped to, staring in amazement at the photo of himself, of the congressman on the front page of the paper, reading the caption below about the missing congressman. “So what––”
     “So we have this little situation and we haven’t been able to figure it out and along comes a guy who is a spitting image of the guy causing all these problems. Seemed too good to be true.” She gave Jeff her first genuinely big smile. “And a nice guy, too, who wants to help us.”
     He was lulled by her smile, he couldn’t help it, “Help, yeah...” He looked into those golden eyes with the little black flecks among the gold.
     He was lulled.
     He sat up snapping back to the moment again, “Wait, not so fast! First, who is us? And what is this help you need? You need to tell me what’s going on!”
     She held up her hands to quiet him down. “Look, not so loud. I can’t tell you everything. That’s best for you, really, the less you know…” her voice trailed off.
     “The less I know?” Jeff looked intently at Shonna, bending across the table trying to get eye contact. She looked up, “The less I know, yes?”
     Shonna sat intently, pondering the situation, mulling what to say next.
     “Okay, here’s the deal. You are a spitting image of this congressman, Frank Schedz, and he has a certain habit of wandering off for a few days, sometimes weeks, without anyone knowing where he is. People think it’s all harmless, that he has a mistress or something like that. But the fact is that he has gotten mixed up with some very bad people. All those days off from official business has been to get all mixed up in the local corruption here in Atlanta, with congressman trumps mayor and all that at play.”
     “Frank Schedz. He’s the grandson of the donut king, Earl Schedz, right?” She gave him a half-smile. “He probably has tons of money. What’s he doing with those very bad people?”
     “He’s trying to rip them off, and so far he is winning. But things are getting tight. He is about to get himself into a whole lot of serious trouble. Maybe even physical danger. And that’s weird because the guys he’s playing with don’t usually work like that, but he is really pushing the limits. There’s a lot of big names involved, mostly in local politics, but this city is known for that kind of stuff and so people don’t take it too seriously. But this Frank congressman is getting reckless and careless and other law enforcement is beginning to think that maybe this is bigger than just some of the usual Atlanta hanky panky. For sure it is big. It may be very big.”
     “So where do you fit in?”
     “Let’s just say that I carry a badge, but you don’t know what flavor.”
     Jeff stared intently into her eyes. “So you’ve been keeping the books in the middle of all this. You infiltrated their organization, right? How did you pull that off?”
     “It’s amazing what happens when you play the dumb blond,” she pulled a strand of her hair around with her fingers in front of he face to look at it, “or dishwater redhead. Those stupid idiots actually believe it!”
     Jeff sat back smiling, “So let me see…Magic Town…the guy in the white Panama…missing congressman…a table of guys there and suddenly not there, then more guys again…henchmen, waiting for orders to go set a fire to a liquor store that hasn’t paid up.”
     Jeff looked for confirmation from Shonna, she nodded. This made sense from what little he’d seen. He continued, “… and I’ll bet we can throw in a little mayor and sprinkle it with a few city councilmen? And maybe the police for grins?” Jeff sat back. “Graft!”
     “What, do you read detective novels?”
     Jeff smiled. “Big fan of Sherlock Holmes. Oh, and others, too. You know, Grisham and those guys.”
     “You may be pretty bright there, Jeffery my man, and you got some of the pieces, but graft is too a small word for this. We are talking corruption that will blow the lid off of the whole of northern Georgia.”
     “So you’ve been laying low, watching the books, and what, is Magic Town like in the middle of all this?”
     “Let’s just say that those stacks of money we talked about in that room don’t hardly all come from beer, tits and ass.”
     “Payoffs of some kind. All cash, right?” Jeff leaned back. “So I show up, looking like this guy so you guys start thinking that you can fix this all up somehow. With me?” Shonna nodded. “But where do I fit in?”
     “We haven’t exactly got it all figured out yet,” she stood up, “but let me see if I can find out what’s cookin’.” She walked to a pay phone hanging on the wall. Turning her back to Jeff she inserted a coin, pushing buttons on the phone. He heard her talking clearly, very quietly into the phone, barely able to pick up two words together. She hung up, made another call spending another ten minutes talking in the same quiet voice. That was followed by a third shorter call.
     Jeff sat looking through the grimy windows seeing it still dark outside feeling a drowsy wave wash over him. He glanced at his watch, almost six.
     Soon Shonna turned walking to the table, turned poking her head over the swinging door to the kitchen calling Bernice again, returning to the table sitting down. A moment later Bernice came out to fill up each of their cups with her skillful pour from so high over the table, without a word turning back into the kitchen.
     Shonna lifted her cup with a determined smile, “Well, I guess you need to take first shift, so time to drink up.”
     “First shift?”
     Shonna told him that they there were two possible places the congressman would be, that they were going to stake out the place that she liked best.
     “So he’s what, kidnapped?”
     She laughed, “I doubt it. More likely that he’s laying in some woman’s bed with a very bad hangover about now. That man really does love his drink. We’re going to go sit to watch a house where I believe he is. We’ve got to get hold of him before he leaves, then we’ll have the little talk I told you about.”
     “Get hold of him?”
     “Damn rights, we can’t have two of him walking around!”

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NOW READ THE NEXT CHAPTER IN
MAGIC TOWN!

CLICK THIS LINK:


http://chrislamela.blogspot.com/2012/05/magic-town-chapter-7.html

Also, if you enjoyed this, please give me a LIKE on Facebook to help spread the word! And thank you!

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Magic Town, Chapter 7

Jeff, finds himself in Atlanta wanting to get out of the hotel on a Friday night. In the Atlanta Underground he meets up with Pick, a sly con man who takes Jeff around the Underground ending up at the notorious Magic Town strip club. There’s only one problem: Jeff is the spitting image of a corrupt congressman! Nancy, the beautiful FBI agent with the golden eyes takes Jeff on the ride of his life. With three climax scenes, this story will make you want to get to the next page!


Chapter 7 of Magic Town ...

Saturday, 6:12 AM: The Stakeout

Jeff has discovered that he is the absolute spitting image of the crooked Congressman, Frank Schedz, and Nancy has convinced him to play along. Now he follows her along to a stakeout at six in the morning looking for the Congressman so Jeff can deliver a message to him. He learns more about this beguiling woman as she sits with binoculars pressed to her eyes watching the house with two porch lights. Soon a parade of characters, the mayor, police chief, city council members and others come out of the house only to be followed by the signal that something has gone very wrong!

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Thanks for taking time, and enjoy!
- Chris Lamela



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Author contact: Chris Lamela, chris@chrislamela.com, 707-566-8790 PST

---------------------------------------------------------------------

           Magic Town, Chapter 7

Saturday, 6:12 AM: The Stakeout

   Shonna reached into her purse pulling out a five, tossing it onto the table. They walked through the door, crossing the dark street to the blue Mustang. Jeff walked around to the passenger door. Shonna opened the trunk pulling out a sport bag, walked to the driver’s door, climbed in. She opened the bag, pulled out a pair of very long binoculars and a Nikon camera with the longest lens Jeff had ever seen.
     “Tools of the trade,” she said, turning to lay them on the back seat. Putting the key in the ignition, they pulled away from the curb.
     In only a few minutes the car was pulled over in a neighborhood a lot like the other they had been in earlier, filled with cars all parked helter-skelter, now with a few lights on in the house windows.
     “See that yellow house with the two lights on the porch way up there?” Jeff craned his neck forward trying to see which house she was talking about, nodding that he thought he knew the one. “Well here’s the deal, you got a few Z’s last night, so I need an hour or so. I doubt there will be any traffic yet, but here,” she reached back, grabbed the binoculars handing them to Jeff, “keep an eye on that house, if anyone comes in or out, wake me. Wake me in an hour no matter what.”
     Jeff took the binoculars, inspecting them. He had never seen such a nice pair before, focus, zoom, very nice. He looked through them, that door with two lights over it looked like he could reach out and touch the doorknob. He instantly heard Shonna’s even breathing, very impressed that she had managed to go to sleep so fast. He also knew she had been up all night.
     He watched that door intently for an hour. Nothing happened.
     He leaned forward looking up through the windshield watching great gray hands in the heavens slowly pulling the crescent moon back up into the darkened sky, daylight timidly touching the horizon with the slightest golden rim.
   Finally, he jostled Shonna who woke so fast it startled Jeff, “What, anything?”
   He replied that nobody came or went. She turned the key to look at the car’s clock, seven twenty.
     She took the binoculars from him, peering through them suddenly sitting up straight muttering to herself, “Good job, Nancy!”
     Nancy?”
     “It’s Shonna to you!” she gave a sly sideways smile. “Okay, Nancy, but it’s Shonna and please don’t blow it. If these guys think they’ve been infiltrated there’ll be hell.” He looked back at her with a wry grin. “I mean it! It’s Shonna. I told you these guys can get dangerous. When you meet my team they will all be calling me Shonna. It’s too damned easy to make the slip and it’s too dangerous to let it happen.”
     Nancy. Nice. It suits you.” She gave him a glancing smile peering through her binoculars again.
     “So what did you just see?”
     “Mayor’s chief aid just drove up. Yep, congressman’s there. Got to be.”
     “Why don’t you just go in and get him.”
     She grunted, “No thanks, nice way to get shot for sure. Any idea how many guns are in there?” She watched intently, silent.
     He watched her, turned his head toward the house, could see nothing.
     “So how involved are you in this case?”
     “This case? It’s my case.”
     “Your case?”
     “Accidental, really,” she glanced at him sitting in the passenger seat next to her.
     “How is it your case accidentally?”
     “I’m the one who found the first loose thread and just started following it.” He listened, leaning toward her.
     “I lived in Georgetown while I was in grad school.”
     “I thought you went to Brown.”
     “I did for my undergrad, did my masters at George Washington in DC. Lived in Georgetown, bit of a hustle to the university but what a great neighborhood.”
     Georgetown? Isn’t that a little pricey for a student?”
     She smiled, “Yeah, funny how things work out. I took a room. An old woman, you wouldn’t believe her name.”
     Jeff thought, smiling, “No, don’t tell me!”
     She laughed softly, “Yep, with an O and two N’s.” Jeff laughed thinking that spelling had to come from somewhere. “It’s the Irish spelling of the name. Anyway, I lived there for two years. We became good friends. She was in her eighties, was declining pretty fast toward the end, couldn’t leave the house. So I started doing little errands, pretty soon was doing all the errands, grocery shopping, that sort of thing. She had a part-time housekeeper who would come in and cook and do laundry, but I did the rest of the housekeeping, taking care of her.” She reflected. “It wasn’t bad, really. It was good, it fit perfect with my school schedule. She was really nice to me, always interested in my studies.”
     She adjusted the binoculars keeping them pressed to her eyes. “Anyway, she died. It turns out she had no family, at least that she knew of. I never knew what that really meant, whether they didn’t speak to each other or what, but nobody except a couple of old people who lived in the neighborhood ever came to visit. No Christmas cards or anything. Turns out she left me the house in her will.”

     “Wow, that doesn’t happen every day. That was pretty lucky.”
     “Yeah lucky, a poor little grad student with a big house right in the middle of Georgetown. And a nice bit of money, too. Got to pay off my student loans with money left over. But it wasn’t all a completely clean deal.”
     “Why, what happened?”
     “About six months after everything was settled I get a call from a guy saying that he was her grandson who started asking all sort of questions. Next thing I know I’m getting a letter from some attorney saying he was contesting the will.”
     “I guess you would have to expect something like that, right?”
     “Yeah. At first I wasn’t sure and started thinking that maybe he was right, that he should have something from his grandmother. Then the next phone call he started getting really jerky. Really hostile. So I got to thinking where was he on the holidays, where was this guy when I was emptying her bedpans and wiping her butt? The more I thought about it the madder I got. I mean you don’t know me very well, but when I think something is mine I go after it and I won’t let anyone take anything from me! Nobody!”
     “So what did you do?”
     “I asked around the agency and everyone said that there is one rule in lawsuits: always make sure your attorney is better than theirs. So I got the name of one of those, you know, really high-powered attorneys you read about in the newspapers who was recommended by my boss’s boss who told me to call this guy and mention his name. I just kind of held my breath because there was no way I could pay for a three-hundred-dollar an hour guy. So I told him about the situation, next thing I know I am getting copies of letters sent back and forth between him and the grandson’s attorney, then nothing.” Jeff watched her in anticipation. “Finally I got my nerve up to call this attorney, ask him what happened, how much I owe him. He came on the line, said the other guy lost his nerve and didn’t I read his letters? I said no, not really, so he told me to go look at the letters and I would see that we threatened to counter sue them. They went away. Well, I was really happy and all, but when I asked him how much I owe him he kind of laughed, said not to worry that it wasn’t that much work, that he did it as a favor for my boss’s boss. Seems his firm gets a lot of business from the agency.”
     They both laughed together, Jeff grinned, “Boy, so you were one really well-connected student and didn’t even know it, huh? Did you ever go back to read the letters?”
     She glanced at him, “Yeah, and what made them go away was my attorney’s threat to counter sue and to have the grandson charged with elder neglect! I mean how could this guy pop out of the middle of nowhere trying to get his hands on the estate when he never even bothered to send a Christmas card!”
     “So that’s what they meant when they said to get a better attorney!”
     “I guess so, but it sure was good advice, huh?”
     “How is it that someone your age was in graduate school? Isn’t that the thing people do in their twenties?” She gave him a sideways glance, “Not that you’re not in your twenties!” They both laughed together as she squeezed the binoculars back to her face.
     “Oh, I don’t know, I just kept going in and out of school, each time not finding anything that really got my attention until I happened to take a criminal law class and, well, it just lit me up.”
     She glanced at him, “Isn’t that what you did?” He frowned that she somehow knew this little factoid about him.
     “So how does this all fit into this case?”
     “Well, it seems the congressman happened to have a house in Georgetown. It was on my walk to the university. A couple times I saw him as I was walking by. No big deal, you saw all sorts of government people on that side of town.”
     She pulled the binoculars down rubbing her eyes, held them back up. “Anyway, I started to notice more and more, how would I say it,” she paused in quick thought, “let’s say non-Georgetown types more and more going in and out of his house. A few times I kept seeing the same black man, a big guy who seemed to go through cycles of hanging out at this congressman’s house, so I got curious. I took the license plate of the car he was in one time, contacted the limo company, found out he was the mayor of Atlanta.”
     Jeff nodded, listening intently as she continued, “I was doing my internship at Department of Justice which gave me access to just about any kind of data that could help me figure out if anything was going on.” She glanced at him, “I don’t know, there was just some kind of gut feel that something wasn’t right. So I started doing all the usual checks, you know, income, tax returns, bank accounts, property records, things like that, all the stuff I could get really easy.” She shook her head slowly, “It didn’t add up.” Jeff cocked his head listening. “I mean, how does a guy who makes eighty four thousand a year as mayor live in a three million dollar house, drive three Mercedes, and have a country club membership? This guy was rolling in dough.”
     “Well, I suppose…” Jeff pondered, though he really had no clue.
     “And none of it come through his bank accounts?” She shook her head just slightly, not to lose her gaze on the house.
     “Anyway, I was just finishing school, took a position with the FBI, got too busy to do anything about it at first, I just kind of forgot about it for a year as I was getting my feet wet at the agency. So one day I happened to walk by his house and there’s the mayor coming out of the congressman’s house again. So I went to my chief, told him about it and what I had discovered before. I was expecting him to say thanks to watch him hand it to another agent, but instead he appointed me as a co-lead agent and hooked me up with an older colleague who decided this was going to be my case, used it more like a way to mentor me.” She turned to him with a satisfied smile going back to her binoculars, “Soon my mentor just kind of backed out of the case and there I was, lead agent by default!”
     “Wow, that’s quite a story. So this is your case.”
     She glanced at him with a nod. “That was two years ago. I’ve been on this case since. I figured the congressman has been involved for four years, a year before I discovered it, the year while I let it be, and two years since.”
     Jeff watched this woman sitting next to him. He couldn’t see her captivating eyes looking at him as he suddenly felt a wave of deeper understanding of this woman, a warm flow over his body trickling over his head, through is hair like a warm shower onto his shoulders, washing down around his back as he felt a warm flush across his chest, feeling his face turning flush. He was glad she was looking into her binoculars and not at him that moment.
     “So you said I am going to be doing some kind of talking sense into somebody.”
     She glanced sideways to him quickly, back to the binoculars. “Yes, I believe he’s in that house, but we need to make sure he’s alone. This is going to be a very serious talk.”
     “What am I supposed to be saying to this person?”
     “Well, you’re not exactly going to be doing the talking, more like delivering a message.”
     “What kind of message?”
     “That it’s time to straighten up and fly right. Look, don’t worry about that right now, I’ll fill you in when the time comes.”
     They sat in quiet, Jeff squinting in the morning light to see the house. “Oh, good,” she said softly, “sweet.”
     “Update?”
     “No, false alarm, that’s not who I thought.” She kept the binoculars clutched to her face. “So did Pick get you at the ATM next to Ricky Rocket’s?”
     “Why?”
     “Good. He just walked back out of the house.”
     “Yeah, Rickey Rocket’s. How did you know?”
     “I swear every lonely white business guy must go to that ATM at least once in his life. You wouldn’t believe the people he hauls to Magic Town.”
     She adjusted the binoculars, “But I wonder what he’s doing there?”
     Jeff got a hurt expression, “People, as in other guys? As in lots of them all meeting up with Pick at that ATM?”
     “Yep.”
     “That’s his routine?”
     “Yep. Always the same. Let me guess, you bought him drinks and dinner, then followed him over to Magic Town and you spent how much there? I saw you spreading a lot of money around. He’s the best pick pocket in Atlanta. How much money did he get from you?”
     Jeff reached into his pocket pulling out twenty-two dollars doing a little arithmetic in his head, “Two hundred and something, maybe two hundred ten dollars.”
     She adjusted the binoculars again, “Who’s that with him? Hmmmm. All that cash plus your credit card, drinks and dinner, tips of course, always really big tips, right?”
     Jeff stared at the money in his hand, “God, maybe three hundred dollars! He did it all with a smile! And I smiled the whole time too!” He chuckled to himself. “Well, I’ll be damned, I’m the best Mark in town, huh?”
     “Yep. He’s the best pick pocket in Atlanta. Not a police report in sight.”
     “Well, I’ll be god damned. Three hundred dollars.” He looked up at the car ceiling laughing out loud, “Pick!”
     She laughed with the binoculars to her eyes. “Your common street mugger may get what, fifty bucks? A hundred? And a night in jail for all his trouble! Yep, Pick’s definitely a star when it comes to his style of pick pocketing white guys standing at that ATM.” She frowned with an intent voice, “Well there they go, but who was that other guy?”
     Jeff laughed again, “Does he work for your agency?”
     “Nope, he’s a free agent.”
     “But you pay him?”
     “A few thousand. He is an extra set of ears and eyes for us, nothing strategic. But I trust him and he has given us some really good inside information. Plus,” she glanced away from her binoculars, “he keeps dragging all you businessmen to Magic Town and we end up with people like you!” They both laughed, Jeff suddenly realizing why him being the only white guy in the club didn’t create any stir last night. Evidently it meant that Pick had just found another Mark. He smiled at this explanation for why all the chairs at his table at front of the runway filled so quickly!
     She shushed him adjusting the zoom on the binoculars. “What the hell are these guys all doing up so early? On a Saturday? There’s something really big going on here.” She put down the binoculars, rubbed her eyes picking them up again, looking up and down the street. “Oh, Christ, please no.”
     “What,” Jeff strained to look down the street, “what?”
     “There’s an unmarked up the block watching.” She sighed. “Protection.”
     “Protecting what?”
     “The mayor’s assistant left. That must mean the mayor is in there, no other reason to have a watch. Don’t worry,” smiled Shonna, “they are about to leave.”
     “Leave?”
     “Yep, his honor is just coming out. Oh, god, the chief, too. Hand me the camera.” Jeff reached back handing it to Shonna, she set the binoculars in her lap. In less than a second the camera started clicking and whirring with the auto-winder. Silence. More clicking, whirring. “Jesus, what are all those guys doing there? What the hell is going on? What are they all doing here?”
     “Who all?”
     “The mayor, vice mayor, two, no, three council members, the police chief, two others, look like captains. God almighty, in uniforms even, arrogant pricks, what’s wrong with these guys? Is there a party going on in there? Why are they standing at the curb like that? What are they waiting for?”
     She watched intently. “Who they hell are they?
     “Who?”
     Jeff pulled the binoculars from Shonna’s lap holding them up to see two really big black men just coming out of the house, signaling to the mayor. “Smile boys,” Shonna smirked as the camera clicked and whirred a few times.
     “Wait, that tattoo!” Jeff adjusted the binoculars, “I saw him last night at the club!” He heard three clicks and whirs.
     “The mayor’s turning to get into his car,” she said quietly.
     She paused, “Finally Perkins! Damn I thought he abandoned us! Here he comes driving up. Where you been big guy? Out of the car.” Long pause. “Good boy, Perk, wave to the nice mayor, grin, let them know you are there and you’ll play babysitter. Good boy.” Pause. “Waiting till they leave.” Pause. “Good. Now go into the house, signal us what’s going on, then come back out with your hands on your hips and we’ll come have our little chat with the congressman.”
     “Who is Perkins?” Jeff glanced at his watch noting the time.
     “The bouncer.”
     “The big guy from Magic Town? That guy?”
     Still peering through the camera she smiled, “You bet, he’s our eyes and ears there. Doesn’t miss a trick, has this like photographic memory for faces. He thought you were the congressman so that’s why he put you up front.”
     “I thought I got up there because of my tip.”
     “Oh, I’m sure he was glad to keep your money, but no.” Jeff remembered some of the things Perkins said to him, asking about his driver, remembering when he first came in and him saying even for you, sir.
     “So this Perkins, is he a cop, too?”
     “No, he works for the club. We manage to pay him more on the side but he doesn’t know anything about me, about Nancy, he thinks I’m just the stupid blonde bean counter, even though I not even blond. I am sure he wants to get into my pants.” She laughed, “Especially after last night!”
     Jeff gave her a sideways glance that she could sense even with the camera to her eye. Yeah, he thought to himself watching her sitting next to him, I’d like to get into your pants, too! He leaned back just a bit as he could picture her trim body that he’d seen last night at Magic Town, picture that beautiful body laying on some bed. He put that image on his hotel bed, her coaxing him with curling fingers. Him standing there admiring her, undressing with her saying things like what a manly man he was, giving a little shriek seeing him naked, Jeff approaching the bed…
     “Yeah, Perkins.” Jeff snapped out of his daydream turning to her. “He’s a good guy and he’s so big people are afraid to screw with him. That helps everyone in the club, especially me. Really keeps a lid on things. I really go out of my way to help him out when he needs. Got him out of a couple messes.”
     Jeff could hear Shonna breathing heavily as she watched through the camera so intently. She was waiting for something to happen. She motioned to him with her right hand, “Open the glove compartment.” In the glove compartment there was a police radio with a little red light zooming back and forth across the face.
     “Why don’t you guys use cellular phones?” He prided his Motorola clam phone the little four-inch square wonder that he carried. It was back in his suitcase because his company was getting all upset that his bill was running over nine hundred dollars a month. They were wanting him to refund his personal calls. The roaming charges were running up to two dollars a minute so he just figured out that pays for a lot of calling-card calls for a tenth of that.
     She nodded, “Cell phones are too unreliable. Can’t take chances. Maybe when they get the network built out, but we can’t take chances of no communication.” He nodded, she was right. He recalled a long phone conversation he had once while driving around Los Angeles that was done in seven segments as he drove, the line kept cutting out. That one call cost twenty eight dollars.
     “Hand me the microphone,” she motioned holding out her right hand, taking it holding it to her mouth. Still looking into the camera she clicked the side of the microphone, “Tom, you there?” There was an unintelligible crackling with a voice in there somewhere. Jeff couldn’t make out a word. “Good, yeah, Perkins will give the signal in a second. Then we can go in to have that talk with our little man, assuming he’s not passed out as usual.”
     Jeff assumed she was talking about the congressman, wasn’t sure as he glanced at his watch again, nearly two minutes had passed since Perkins went in.
     “She leaned forward, pressing the camera to her eye, “What’s taking him so long?” Another full minute passed, her breathing quickening. “Where is he? Where is he? What’s taking so long?”
     She gave a small sigh of relief, “Good, there he is.”
     Jeff glanced at the time again, four minutes had passed since he went in.
     “What’s he doing? He’s looking back into the door. He went back in again!”
     She threw the camera onto the back seat pulling the binoculars away from Jeff’s face while still holding the radio microphone. “Tom, here he comes out again, he’s just coming out! But what’s he doing, where’s the signal?”
     “He crossed his arms!” Clicking the mic she screamed, “OH, GOD, CROSSED ARMS! CROSSED ARMS! WE GOT TROUBLE! TOM! WE GOT TROUBLE! I’M GOING IN NOW! WAIT FOR MY SIGNAL!”
    “I’M GOING IN NOW!”

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MAGIC TOWN !

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