typea_all (32 page)

     "To the Four Seasons."

     "We're having lunch at the Four Seasons?"

     "Yes."

     "And that's the surprise?"

     "No."

     "So what is it?"

     "You'll see."

     We got to the hotel and Ryan parked his car in the self-service lot across the street. He led me into the hotel and than up to one of the large meeting rooms where a big group of people where standing around.

     "Okay, can you tell me now?"

     "Look over at that sign," he said, pointing to a sign on an easel. The sign read "Make a Wish Soap Opera Luncheon"

     "This is a soap opera luncheon? You mean my soap stars will be here?"

     "That's right. Ten of the most gorgeous hunks and hunkettes from your two favorite soaps, and you're having lunch with them."

     And I turned this guy down when he mentioned the M word!

     "You've got to be kidding. When did you find out about this? How did you get the tickets? What do they do at these things?"

     "I read about it on the Internet this week and they still had tickets. It’s a charity auction for the Make a Wish Foundation, and you can bid on things like signed pictures and scripts, and even a tour of the studios. And I did it to make you happy after the terrible week you had."

     I kissed him, and then kissed him again. I didn't want to stop but there were people all around us, and they were starting to walk into the luncheon.

     The luncheon was wonderful! I talked to ten of my soap actors. Ryan brought a one-use camera, and he took pictures of me with the stars. The auction was a fun idea, too, but the only thing I would have been interested in was the tour of the studio in New York. When they started the bidding for it, the value rose quickly to over $600. The auctioneer said "Going Once, Going Twice" and then Ryan raised the bid by twenty-five dollars.

     "You can't spend that kind of money on me! You don't even watch daytime."

     "Maybe I'll start so we'll have more to talk about."

     Someone else raised the bid again.

     The auctioneer looked at Ryan, and Ryan nodded for another raise.

     The action went back and forth a few minutes, and I couldn't believe what Ryan was doing. Finally, one of the stars stood up. "This is all for a good cause, and I can see these two bidders want the tour very badly. How about if we give tours to both of them, and Make a Wish makes double the money."

     "That's fine with me," Ryan said. "Me too," said the other bidder.

     "Then it's going, going, gone," and the auctioneer banged his gavel.

     My head was spinning as Ryan went up to the table to pay, and the other people at our table were congratulating me.

     "All set," Ryan said when he returned to the table. "In a few weeks they will get in touch and set up the tour for two people. Who do you plan on taking?"

     "Are you kidding? You have to come with me."

     "It will be my pleasure."

     The rest of the event was just a blur; I couldn't believe I was going to tour the studio where one of my soaps was made. We hooted when other people won their bids, and we laughed at even the corniest jokes. Ryan had a few pictures left on his camera, so I got a few more shots of the stars and me.

     When the event ended, we walked back to the parking lot, holding hands and smooching like two pimply-faced teens. Ryan unlocked and opened the car door for me, and then he headed around to his side, when someone jerked open my car door and tried to pull me out.

     "What are you doing?" I yelled.

     Ryan started to run around to my side but another guy stepped in front of him. "Hold it," he said.

     I knew that Ryan had been working out for years, and I knew he had muscles because I could feel them all over me, but I never realized that the muscles could come in handy for anything other than sex. Ryan punched the guy right in the face and then kicked him the stomach, so the guy bent over in pain.

     The other goon was still pulling me out of the car, and when I resisted, he hit me in the eye. I went limp for a second and was out of the car being dragged on the ground. When Ryan ran up to him, the goon let go of me so I flopped down on the ground, and he started fighting with Ryan. This guy was bigger, beefier, and uglier than the other, and he wasn't as easy to handle.

     He gave Ryan a punch. Ryan stumbled back and fell to the ground. The goon turned back to me and yanked up my arm. He pulled me up and was about to punch me again when Ryan grabbed his arm from the back and bent it behind his back. He pushed the guy's arm up until the guy bent over, and then Ryan pushed the guy into car next to mine.

     I thought it was all over. Ryan turned to me and started to say something, when I glimpsed movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head and saw the other goon, the one Ryan kicked, coming at us. He ran past me, headed toward Ryan, and I stuck my foot out and tripped him. Ryan was now close enough that he lifted up his knee and caught the goon on the face.

     "I can't believe we just got mugged at the Four Seasons," Ryan said. "Let's get the hell out of here before these guys get up."

     As we drove off, I said, "I don't think that was a mugging."

     "What do you mean?"

     "There are some things I have to tell you, some things that have been happening to me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."

     "Better spit it out."

     I told Ryan everything about Reynolds and Big Jimmy, about Chester and Fred, about all of the threats and attacks. He listened quietly while I spoke, which took almost the entire trip back to his apartment. When I was done, he just sat there quietly and drove.

     "Well?" I asked him.

     "Well what?"

     "About everything I just told you."

     "You didn't tell me everything."

     "What do you mean?" I was hoping that he didn't know about my innocent flirtation with Luke.

     "You didn't tell me why you waited until now. You didn't tell me why you couldn't confide in me; tell me the truth. You didn't tell me why you thought this was something I didn't need to know. Would you have said anything if we weren't just attacked back there?"

     "I was planning on telling you. I was going to tell you that weekend we had the argument. I was going to tell you this week, earlier, but then the mammogram thing happened."

     "You had plenty of time to tell me."

     We drove the rest of the way in silence, until we got into his apartment. "What are you going to do?" he asked.

     "I'm going to call the FBI in the morning, and then I’ll file a complaint with the Longport police."

     "I think that's a good idea."

     He was distant with me as I packed my things.

     "I really wish I didn't have to go back now," I told him. "I wish I could stay here tonight."

     "You better go back. You have work tomorrow. I have work; I already missed two days last week. Are you okay to drive?"

     "I'm fine."

     Maybe God knows why I do certain things, because I certainly don’t.  Monday morning I called the FBI but I didn't go the police station. Jackson and Samuels were not in the office, and Beebe and Wing, I found out, had been reassigned to New York. I left a message for either Jackson or Samuels to call me back, and went to work.

     Joan asked me about my black eye as soon as I got in. I don’t think she bought the story about me falling into my vacuum cleaner, but she was nice enough to pretend to. Then she told me that Lipschitz wanted to see me in his office.

     "He said that you should go over as soon as you came in," she told me.

     "Have any idea what it’s about?"

     "Not a clue, but he's in a bad mood."

     On the way to his office, I stopped by the nurse's station and talked to Helen and Bernice. They told me that Jerry Odem quit his job, and Helen asked if I was still seeing "that cutie" who brought the Chinese food. For some reason, the word "cutie" just didn't seem appropriate for Bruno, but everyone has their own tastes.

     Downstairs, I knocked on Lipschitz's door.

     "John, it’s Brooke."

     "Come in." He opened the door, and stared at my black eye. "Please sit down."

     "What's up, John?"

     "Brooke, after what happened on Friday, I think we have to re-evaluate your employment situation."

     "What does that mean, in real English?"

     "Your continued presence here may be a danger to the hospital."

     "But I called the FBI. Everything will work out...soon."

     "Well, I feel it only fair to warn you that I am re-evaluating our need for your continued employment."

     "John, how can you say this? You were so brave on Friday, you saved my life."

     "Well..."

     "You were a hero. I'll even ask the FBI to give you a commendation."

     "But..."

     "Please, just don’t do anything rash. Give me a chance, that's all I ask."

     "Well, I'll think about, but I can't promise you anything."

     I was very depressed when I got back to the lab, but I tried my best to seem upbeat and positive. I got Lipschitz to waver somewhat, so I just had to work on him a little more. I'll be a model employee. I'll work overtime. I'll even be nice to Gert.

     Joan, on the other hand, was in a lousy mood. Everything was okay between her and Steve, but she was sick to her stomach and starting to look green.

     "Joan, why don't you go home? Call Lipschitz and tell him you're sick."

     "I did call him. Twice. He's got a thorn in his ass so big he needs surgery to get it out. He said that if I left, I'd be fired. I need this job." She started crying.

     "You're kidding? He said that?"

     "He said that the lab is falling apart, and that I'm a failure as the head tech." She was really sobbing now, so strong it was difficult to understand her. "He said he was giving me a negative rating this year. It's not fair!"

     It wasn't fair -- that bastard was taking everything out on her. So maybe he had one shining moment and saved my life with his briefcase, but this was just not fair. Joan was a great tech, and a wonderful person. If he had to screw someone around here it should be me, although I really needed this job.

     "Wait here, Joan, I'll be right back."

     "Where are you going?"

     "I’ve got an itch to scratch."

     I stormed out of the lab and over to the hospital, thinking "The gall of that guy, taking his problems out on a poor, innocent, pregnant tech."  I went straight down to his office, saw that the door was closed, but just opened it and walked right in.

     "Lipschitz, we have to...."

     He was standing there in an all black outfit like a ninja, even with a sword on his back. The pants, however, were down around his ankles and there was a television-video unit playing a porno movie. Luckily he was facing away from me so I didn't have to see Lipschitz Junior.

     He ducked behind his desk. "Didn't you ever hear of knocking?"

     "Didn't you ever hear of locking the door?" I yelled as I closed the door. "God, what are you doing?" I pointed to the movie, still playing on the television.

     "Jesus." He reached over to turn the television off, but with his pants still around his ankles, he fell right on his face, with the television just out of reach and his naked ass pointing to the heavens.

     He dragged himself close enough to the television to turn it off, and I got shivers thinking about what he was rubbing along the poor tile on the floor.

     "I can't believe you just walked in here. Get out!"

     "I am not getting out. Why are you watching that stuff? It’s disgusting."

     "It's for the in-vitro lab, that's what it's for. They use these to...you know...help out the guys who have to give samples."

     "And your job is to test out every movie?"

     "Just to make sure it’s okay."

     "With a ninja outfit on, and the pants on the ground? What's with the outfit anyway?"

     "It's...well...role playing, maybe it helps guys...you know. If you won’t leave, as least turn around." 

     I turned around. "If you think I believe that role-playing story then you need to pry your head out of your sphincter. Pick those pants up, please. And take that sword off before you cut something off that you may want to use again sometime."

     "Okay, okay. Why don't you just get out of here? And please, don't tell anyone about...."

     "Well, if I'm not going to be employed here anymore, I have no incentive to keep your secrets."

     "Jesus. Okay, your job is safe."

     "And if you let Joan go home early, there would be nobody to tell anyway."

     "Okay, she can go home."

     I opened the door and started to leave, but turned around. "And you owe me one more wish."

     "What's that?"

     "I don't know yet, but I'll figure something out."

     By the time I got back to the lab, Lipschitz had already called Joan and told her she could go home.

     "I don't want to know," she told me, "but thanks for whatever you did or said."

     "Go home, relax, call Steve."

     I tried Jackson and Samuels again, but they were still out.

     I called the Longport police and asked for Luke. Office Walker wasn't in, the operator told me, but I could speak with another officer if I wanted.  I didn't want to, I told her, and I hung up.

     I was just sitting there, ignoring all of the people waiting for tests outside, when someone grabbed my shoulder. I screamed and jumped in the air, and Bruno, who was behind me, screamed and jumped back.

     "Jesus," he said, "don't do that, you scared me half to death."

     "I scared you, Bruno? You scared me. Don’t just walk up to someone like that without saying anything, especially someone with my high cholesterol. What do you want?"

     "Can we go talk someplace?"

     "I'm working. There's no-one else in the lab today."

     "Please? It is very important."

     I called over to the in-vitro lab and talked Gail into working over here for a little while. She was an experienced tech who was more than qualified. Gert gave me some dirty looks while I was showing Gail a few things, but I was used to her looks by now.

     "Let's go for a walk," Bruno said.

     As we were walking, he explained why he was there. "The boss went into the hospital today, it doesn't look good. He was in Philly, got terrible pains, and went into Temple Hospital."

     "Is Julie with him?"

     "You got to be kidding. She can't be found. Who the hell knows where she is and when she'll turn up? Jules drove in to Philly and is sitting with the boss now."

     "Is there anything I can do?"

     "Just tell me if you know any more about what's going on."

     I told him about the conversation between Julie and Jimmy. "So it looks like Julie is helping Jimmy take over the business. She's helping him for money because she knows Jason won't give her a dime. What I don't know is why the business is so important to Jimmy, you'd think he'd be happy for the money."

     "Maybe I can help you there," he said. "Jimmy is more than a shark, he's connected. He represents some big guys from Philly and New York who want to get into the casinos real bad. They want a hand in the unions and they want to clean a lot of money that they have lying around."

     "So getting into a legitimate business like R and R might give them the foothold they need."

     "That's right. There's also rumors that Jimmy is into lots of other things, and maybe responsible for a few union guys disappearing these past months."

     We were down by the bay by then, standing on a pier at a bait shop that was closed. The air was cool, but the sun was bright and warm, and without a breeze it was very soothing and relaxing. Neither of us noticed Fred until he said something.

     "Turn around." Fred was standing there with a gun. I suppose the guy grew enough brain cells to figure he wasn't getting anywhere with a knife.

     "Come on, Freddie, put that thing down before you hurt yourself," Bruno said.

     "You know this guy?"

     "Yeah. Freddie's my nephew on my late wife's side. He's not too smart." He turned and started walking toward Fred. "Ever since you started working for Jimmy you've been a real pain in the ass, you know that kid?"

     Boom! Fred shot Bruno in the thigh, the gun sounding like a cannon. Bruno went down on the ground. "Jesus, Freddie, you can't even shoot straight. Where were you aiming that thing?"

     "I didn't aim anywhere, Uncle Bruno." Uncle Bruno? What a polite killer.

     In obvious pain, Bruno said, "Next time, take your time and hold the gun steady. You didn't learn anything at Jimmy's, did you?"

     Freddie started fidgeting around, and turned to make sure no one was coming.

     Boom! Bruno shot Fred in the thigh, and Fred went down, dropping his gun.

     "See, kid, that's how you do it. I was aiming at your thigh cause you’re family. I just grazed you, so you'll be able to make it to Cousin Sheila's wedding next month."

I started walking toward the street. "Bruno, I'll go call the police."

"Hold up there, no police."

"But...."

"No police. This is family. Freddie's a pain but he's not a bad kid once you get to know him." This is something that I never planned on doing. "I'm okay, just a graze, the kid is a lousy shot. Just help me to my car and I'll be fine. I can drive this way."

"What about Fred?"