A retired sheriff runs afoul of an outlaw he once put behind bars.
Approx. 2,370 words
©2003 by Mae Ondracek
It was a cold rainy March evening as Big Jim entered Jake’s Bar & Grill and ordered, “Milk, Jake.” For the past six years, always the same order. He used to have gin and tonic but he hadn’t felt well and after a good checkup, the doctor told him he had Cirrhosis of the liver and advised him not to drink strong liquor anymore. Big Jim had been a man of action, a police captain at the 4th Precinct and now he wanted a strong drink to warm his aching body.
As Big Jim stuffed his overweight frame into a booth, he heard snickering but paid it no mind until a voice asked, “Well, well, is Big Jim only drinking milk? Is something wrong with the big man?”
“Get off my case, man, or I’ll flatten you,” Jim bellowed as he looked up into the smirking face of the punk he had once hauled off to jail. “”My God, you mean they finally let you out of jail, Pete?”
“Sure, Jim, it’s been eight years and my time was up. Can I sit with you and talk for awhile?”
“Yeah, I’d like to know what you’ve been up to lately. Are you staying out of trouble?”
“You bet, man. I’ve had enough of that place. But what’s happened to you? I mean, you used to be slender and athletic. Now you could hardly walk in here.”
Big Jim sighed and gulped down his milk, “Another, Jake,” he yelled at the bartender. “Health problems caused me to retire from the force and to quit drinking. Enough chit-chat, your time is up. Let me brood in peace.”
Pete countered, “I know there was no great love between us but I need someone to talk to. I know drinking milk didn’t cause all that weight to accumulate. What gives?”
“Oh, hell. I suppose you haven’t heard. Two years after I sent you up, my wife died and I couldn’t take the loss. We were married for 40 years, you know. I started drinking a lot and was asked to retire the next year. Then my liver started acting up and I turned to food to ease all the pains, but tell me about yourself, Pete.”
“Nothing much to tell. My brother wants me to go into business with him but something just doesn’t seem right. Can’t put my finger on it, but I did learn a lot those eight years in jail and feel there is something wrong.”
Pete shook his head and stood to leave but Big Jim ordered him to sit down again and explain. “I don’t know what it is, Big Jim. My brother has that shipping business and something isn’t kosher. I, I gotta go.”
Pete jumped to his feet and hurried out the door. Jim noticed two men follow him out but, by the time he pulled himself out of the booth and got outside, no one was around. Jim cursed himself for letting his weight get out of hand and vowed he’d start loosing it real soon.
As he lumbered towards his car, he thought back to his days on the force. At 45, he had been very athletic, keeping his five-eleven frame down to 165 pounds and he could out run the best of them.
Then Louise got sick and died. His world had collapsed and he no longer cared. Cramming himself with junk food and pastries had quickly put on pounds he didn’t need and now Jim wished he didn’t have them.
He hadn’t liked Pete when he was a know-it-all kid of nineteen. Pete would strut his skinny self in front of all the cops and call them slow, old men. But, when Pete pulled a knife on a guy in the bar and cut his left cheek open, he found out he couldn’t out run Big Jim. He was apprehended within a block of the bar. Pete had tried to jerk away, kicking and screaming insults, but Jim hung on, got Pete handcuffed, and hauled him to the station. Jim thought, ‘Lucky for Pete, the poor gut didn’t die after they removed the eye because of damage to it.’
The next day Jim talked with his doctor and they made plans for Jim to start an exercise program and diet. He’d show them he could do it. No more sloppy fat Big Jim. Jim went to Jake’s Bar & Grill every evening but Pete didn’t show up again for two weeks. When Jim saw him at last, he called out, “Hey Pete, want to sit and gab?”
Pete looked at him, shook his head no, finished his drink, and left the bar. Jim was dumbfounded and couldn’t understand the feeling that something was wrong.
The papers were full of all sorts of drug news and it seemed like no one knew who the supplier was. Jim wondered if it was connected with the shipping business run by Pete’s brother and if they had forced Pete to work with them. They seemed to be watching his every move.
Another month passed before the two men met again and Pete gaped at Jim as he said, “Man, you look like you’ve lost weight. Hope you haven’t been sick.”
“Naw, it’s just a lot of exercising and eating decent food. Where have you been, Pete?”
I got me a night job and it keeps me busy. I sleep most of the day and rarely get out anymore. It was good seeing you again but I gotta run,” Pete hurried out the door.
Jim couldn’t push aside the feeling that something was desperately wrong. He wished he could talk longer with Pete to find out more, but he didn’t show up again so Jim pushed himself harder to loose more weight. Thirty-five pounds melted off and Jim was congratulating himself as he entered Jake’s Bar & Grill on a cool June evening. Jim stopped short as he caught a glimpse of Pete in the bar mirror. ‘Why does he have all those dark spots on his face?’ Jim thought as he approached Pete.
Pete’s jaw dropped when he saw Jim nearing him, “You were really serious about loosing weight, weren’t you? You’re looking good man, and soon you’ll be back to your old self again.”
He started to leave but Jim caught his arm and said, “Hold on, Pete. You’ve got some questions to answer. Are you working for your brother? Where did all the bruises come from? Why won’t you stay and talk with me? What gives?”
“Yes, I work for my brother and some of the crates weren’t stacked right and fell on me, that’s all,” Pete replied. “Now can I please leave? I only have an hour before work and I have to eat and clean up. Please let go of my arm.”
Pete’s voice was almost a whisper as his eyes connected with a man sitting in a booth. Jim dropped his arm and said, “Be more careful, Pete.”
Pete shook his head while he hurried out. After a minute, the guy in the booth rose to leave but Jim blocked his path. “Going someplace fella?”
“What’s it to you, fatty?” He asked before Jim’s fist connected with his stomach. He doubled over and Jim pushed him back in the booth, saying, “Don’t ever call me fatty again because it really upsets me and I can’t be responsible for what I do.”
As Jim headed for the door, he yelled, “Its okay, Jake, just doing my duty. Let him rest for awhile.”
A week later as Jim headed towards Jake’s, he saw Pete half a block away. Jim raised his arm and called out, “Hi, Pete. Good to see….” He stopped in mid-sentence because Pete seemed to just disappear. ‘Maybe I only thought I saw him,’ Jim thought as he entered Jake’s. “Hi, Jake, has Pete been in lately?”
“No he hasn’t, Jim. The last time I seen him was three days ago and he looked terrible, like he had been run over by a truck. He sure looked scared, too.”
“Thanks Jake. Today I saw him for a moment, and then he was gone. I just have to get to the bottom of this. Pete was a rotten punk at one time, but I thought he learned his lesson while sitting in jail. Give me a glass of milk and then I’m going to talk with his brother.”
“By the way, Jim, I want to tell you how great you are looking. How much weight have you lost so far?”
“Almost to my goal of 175. I had forgotten how good it felt to be able to bend over and tie my shoes. I’ll hang those tennis shoes near the refrigerator as a reminder not to over eat again. See you later, Jake.”
Jim entered Big Brother’s Shipping and gasped at the man behind the counter, “Sorry, for a minute there, I thought you were Pete. Are you his brother?”
“I sure am. I’m Mark. We were identical twins and have fooled a lot of people over the years.”
“I’d like to talk to Pete. Is he here?” Jim asked.
“No, as a matter of fact, we haven’t seen him for a week now. Just never came to work one day. Doesn’t answer his phone and he’s not at his apartment.”
“Would you please give me his address? I’ll see if I can find him.”
“Sure, man. I’ll write it down for you, and good luck. He was a great worker, although he goofed up a few times.”
As Jim headed towards Pete’s apartment building, he thought about the conversation with Mark. Something he said had sparked the inner voice Jim always heard when he was working on an important case, years ago. He knocked on the door to room 104. There was no answer. He knocked again. Still no answer so Jim went to the manager’s office and knocked. The door was opened by a short burly guy who must have weighed 250 pounds, or more. Jim thought, ‘Boy I’m glad that’s not me anymore.’
“Hi. I’m Detective Jim Blake and I can’t seem to wake Pete. Does he still rent 104?”
“Yea, but I haven’t seen the rat for a week or more.”
“Will you kindly open the door for me?” Jim asked. “I’d like to make sure he hasn’t died in there.”
The manager said to follow him and unlocked the door, throwing it wide. They looked in every room then Jim thanked him and asked to be left alone for a while. He’d let the manager know when he left.
Jim looked through the closets, dresser drawers, and cabinets. All of Pete’s clothing and everything else was there. ‘Why would a man go away and not take his clothing?’ Jim thought.
He thanked the manager on his way out and headed home. Jim was puzzled because he knew he was missing something important Pete’s brother Mark had said. His thinking must have slowed down during his fat years. Jim knew when he was missing something important, that he should write down everything as best he could recall it. When he had done that, he put all the papers aside and went to bed. For two days, Jim looked over his notes and secretly watched Big Brother’s Shipping from across the street.
Jim made notes on the comings and goings of everyone but something about Mark bothered him. He couldn’t put his finger on the ‘something’, though. That evening he went over his notes again and still that ‘something’, evaded him. He threw the papers on his desk and went to bed. With a start, Jim woke from a very troubled dream. It was one a.m. “I’ve got it!” Jim declared as he jumped out of bed, dressed and headed down to the police station.
Captain Lawrence looked up and said, “Hi Big Jim. Long time no see. You look like your old self again and just like the cat that ate the canary. What gives?”
Jim was excited as he asked, “Have you got any clues on the drug suppliers?”
“No, we sure don’t. But why do I feel you are going to tell us who it is?” The captain asked.
Jim told the captain all that had been happening and Captain Lawrence said, “Wow! Let’s get organized right away. We don’t want them on the street any longer.”
The captain called the men together and Jim explained his story to them. It took them the better part of the day to make all the arrangements and for each man to know exactly where he should be. Nothing should go wrong on this bust. At three that afternoon, Jim walked into the Big Brother’s Shipping office and said, “Hi, Pete. How’s my buddy?”
“But—but I told you, I’m his brother Mark.”
“Sorry Pete. I don’t buy that today. You made a few mistakes when we were talking the other day.”
“No, I couldn’t have.”
“Yes, Pete, when you said ‘we were identical twins’ and ‘he was a great worker’. As Mark, you used past tense as if you knew Pete was gone or dead. Then as I watched you from across the street, you had that slight limp that Pete had and I was sure both of you couldn’t have had the same accident on the same foot. After checking doctors records, birth certificates, etc., I found you didn’t have a twin, just a big brother who was three years older than you when he ran this business. What did you do with Mark?”
Pete was edging towards the back doorway when three detectives appeared from the back room and three more came in the front way, behind Jim.
“Sorry Pete, but you’ll just have to give up and we’re putting your drug business out of commission. Read him his rights, Larry.”
After Larry finished reading, Pete said, “I don’t see how you figured this out. Mark, a cellmate and I, really planned this well and thought it was a foolproof scheme. But, just like last time, Big Jim was just the best and smartest man. I should have of known we couldn’t out smart you.”
“Is, Pete, is. Big Jim IS the best and smartest man.”