CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

"Charlie, it's good to see you, man. Looks like you're staying steady in the polls," smiled Mike.

"Got a ways to go, but we'll win it. Then we own the fucking world," laughed the older man. "Tell me what's happening here. What's going on?"

"Well, Al is, of course, grieving his loss," smirked Mike. Al laughed, shaking his head. "Grieving more than you know."

"Yeah, I'm having a tough time with all the old lady pussy coming at me," he chuckled. "Man, I'm telling you, there's nothing colder than a woman with her eyes on a single man."

"Speaking of, tell me about this new guy you want to bring on," said Charlie, taking his seat with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

"Former cop, did some time in the Army. Looking for a place to retire but can't afford what we charge. He's got a wife, but she's a retired cop as well. Showed me a picture of her, and she's fucking hot as shit. The old guys here are gonna be grabbing their little blue pills.

"We talked some, and he's pissed about what his retirement benefits are, and he's looking for part-time work. Asked if we could use help with security as a trade-off on his rent."

"Where was he a cop?" asked Charlie.

"Here in New Orleans. I've already asked someone about him and got nothing but glowing reviews. Great cop, a little heavy-handed with the criminals, but nothing that the union didn't get him out of. He sounds like someone we could use, and the guy is big as a bus," laughed Mike.

"Sounds like our kind of man. How did the women receive him?"

"Dude is good-looking, man. Big, muscular, handsome. And he's a local, so he's got that southern twang the ladies love."

"I look forward to meeting him and the wife. Tell me about these new psychics that are causing trouble," he asked.

"It's a weird group. There's some Chinese guy," said Al.

"Korean," said Mike. "He's Korean. He reads people based on their birthdates. It's freaking weird."

"Yeah, then there are two old ladies that are psychics predicting futures," said Al. "And then a man and a woman that claim they can speak to the dead."

"Everybody's trying to make a buck," said the man, picking the lint off his pants.

"I know, but these two actually made the women scared. Patti even disobeyed me and stayed with the women downtown. I had to do my whole pissed-off, pouting routine. Got a Rolex and good fuck out of it, but that's about it."

"Maybe I need to visit these psychics," said Charlie.

"I don't know, man. Is that a good idea? You're not in your home state. What if someone recognizes you?" asked Al.

"Let me worry about that."

"How are things going with gathering people for the riot?" asked Mike.

"Great. We've got about twenty thousand people committed to being there once I make my speech. We'll be able to bring our point home with a hammer."

"What if it gets out of control?" asked Al.

"That's kind of the point," frowned Charlie. "I want it to get out of control. I want to prove to them how much they need us. You getting cold feet, Al?"

"No. Not at all. Don't try that shit with me, Charlie. You know I'm committed to this. I just don't want a lot of innocent people dying."

"Innocent people? That seems strange coming from a man that's killed four women for their fortunes." Al looked at Mike, his face a bright red. He was pissed, and Mike hoped he would control his temper, at least for a little while.

"Those women were nothing but rich whores willing to play with their husbands' money and everyone else's. I didn't kill anyone that didn't deserve to die. Just like you, Charlie. Just like you."

"Don't fucking threaten me, Al."

"I didn't threaten you, but you were more than willing to kill to get what you wanted. Your own wife, if I'm not mistaken."

The two men stared at one another, and Mike stood, reaching for the whiskey again.

"I think we all need to take a breath. We've done what needed to be done, and we're going to be rewarded for it. So what if a few rich bitches bite the dust. It's not like we're killing kids. These broads are all seventy or more. They have so much money they don't know what to do with it."

There was an eerie silence in the room as everyone took a few deep breaths. When it seemed settled, Charlie stood and stared out the windows of his condo.

"He's right. No fighting right now. We're close, and we'll all be millionaires. No one has a clue what's happening here. These women are giving gifts to us, freely. Those who choose to fall in love, well, we can't help that, can we? Any suspicions about the death of Marilyn?"

"Maureen," Al corrected. "Her name was Maureen. And no. No one suspects a thing. We got her off the ship without anyone even seeing. Well, almost anyone."

"What do you mean?"

"A couple that were trying to make friends with us. When Maureen first got sick, the wife wouldn't leave her side, trying to be nice. I had to practically scream at her to tell her to leave. She even called asking about funeral arrangements."

"How did she have your number?" frowned Charlie.

"Maureen gave it to her. And before you ask, no, they were never alone for Maureen to say anything to her. Besides, she didn't suspect a damn thing. I gave her the combination of the drugs to make her sick and then the pain meds that interacted with it. She was dead within thirty-six hours."

"Good. I like it when things work out. We have to be careful of the drugs. We don't want anything that stays in the system for very long. You never know when a long-lost relative will pop up and want an autopsy. We can't afford that. Keep using what we've got. Richie says it's the new street drug that everyone is raving about."

"We'll do it," said Mike, nodding. Al was still quiet, pissed about Charlie's attitude. They'd never been best buddies, but lately, they disagreed on more and more.

"How are the other teams doing?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"Alright. Not as well as here. We've got to find a better way to research potential residents. We had two queers show up in Split Creek. Fortunately, Joey was smart enough to interview them and then let them know there wasn't any more space."

"We had something similar, only it was an old man with his daughters. One of them was a fucking lawyer. We got it straight. What about those guys that were in The Shield and then the restaurant? Ever figure out who they were?"

"Nobody," scoffed Charlie. "The boys got their nose out of joint about it. I think they were just big dogs from somewhere wanting to have a meal. It's all good now. They're out of the city."

"Paulie said the three bodyguards that showed up were built like tanks," said Al.

"Paulie should keep his mouth shut," said Charlie. "They're gone now. They didn't see anything, they didn't hear anything, they didn't do anything."

"Look, Charlie, I get that you're saying that, but Gunter, Grant, and Carey said they were in the police station talking to folks. I don't see that as nothing. What if they were asking questions about us?"

"I said it was nothing. It's done, and you don't need to worry about it." The two men just nodded at their boss and set their glasses down on the table.

"We'll get out of your hair. We got a long day tomorrow. I think everyone arrives around four. Our new guy and his wife will be here for dinner for you to meet and give approval. I think he'll be a good addition," said Mike.

"Sounds good," said Charlie. He stood and walked toward the bedroom, waving behind him. He was dismissing them. As the two men left the condo, they got far enough away for Mike to grab Al's arm and pull him back.

"What the fuck are you trying to do? We've got a good thing going on here, Al. Don't screw it up."

"He pisses me off," said Al, looking back at the condo. "You ever think he's doing all of this for him, not us, Mike? He's the one that will become the congressman and eventually POTUS. He's the one that will be seen as the hero. If we get caught, he's not going to come to our rescue."

"What are you saying?" frowned Mike.

"I'm saying watch your back. Because I'm damn sure watching mine."