Family Secrets-Chapter Seven

Still furious with his uncle, the next morning, Bill forced himself to return to the factory to go to work.

“Just get the story, then you can go back home,” he kept telling himself.

  After he clocked in, he made his way back to the loading dock.  As he opened the large swinging door, he saw his Uncle Harry pacing while smoking a cigarette.  A plie of cigarette butts littered the floor.

“Oh…hey… good morning, Bill,” Harry said with a nervous laugh.

Bill didn’t even make eye contact as he passed by his uncle in silence.

Harry let out a long sigh.  “Bill, wait,” he said.

Bill stopped, turned toward Harry and put his hands on his hips with no expression.

“Look, I know I shouldn’t have torn up your picture like that,” Harry said.  He reached into his jacket and held something out in his hand.  “Here…I want you to have this.”

Bill crossed his arms and looked at the object in Harry’s hand.  “What is it?”

“When Tom gave me that picture for John to sign for your grandpa, I had another copy made for me too.  So, here…since I tore up your picture…you can have mine.”

Bill hesitated for a moment before he took the photo from his uncle’s hand. 

“Thanks,” Bill mumbled.  It didn’t completely make up for what his uncle had done, but he appreciated the gesture.

“You can have the picture, but you just need to understand something, Bill.  You can’t keep asking questions like that…you just can’t.”

“Just tell me the truth and I will drop it, Uncle Harry.  Is Carl who I think he is? Is Carl Hellman John Dillinger?  I really need to know.”

Harry took a long drag off of his cigarette then rubbed the back of his neck as he exhaled smoke.  “Yes…But you have to swear not to tell anyone.  I mean it, Bill.  Carl will be very upset if you do.  And trust me…he’s not the type of guy you want to upset.”

Bill drew an x over his heart and held up his hand. “Thank you, Uncle Harry.”

“What are you doing after work tonight?” Harry asked after a short pause.

“I don’t have anything planned, why?”
“You’ve been asking a lot of questions about slot machines.  So, I thought I would take you to see a Freeman Slot Machine in action?”

“I would like that”, Bill replied with a smile.

 

Bill had everything he needed for his story.  He knew how and why Dillinger faked his own death.  He knew about Dillinger’s plastic surgery and what his alias is.  And, best of all, he had confirmation that he had actually met John Dillinger.  But he wanted more.  He wanted to know more about this special shipment coming in a week from Saturday.    He wanted to make his story to be the best that it could be.

 

“Good morning, Peter,” Bill said as he jumped up on the fork truck.

“You sound chipper this morning,” Peter replied.

Bill looked over both shoulders to make sure no one was around then he leaned toward Peter.  “Guess what?  Uncle Harry is going to take me to see some of our slot machines in action.”

“Well, take a good look, because we aren’t making them here anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” Bill said surprised.

“Harry told me they’re moving the whole slot machine operation to St. Louis.  Carl wants to expand to other things here.”

“What kind of things?”

“You’ll have to ask your uncle,” Peter replied as he walked away.

 

That evening after work, Bill followed Harry to The Victoria Hotel. As they walked through the lobby, Bill marveled at the luxurious architecture of the hotel.  From the fine marble floor and crown molding to the huge crystal chandelier that hung from the vaulted ceiling, everything was exquisite. 

Harry led Bill down a hallway, through a door marked “employees only”, then to a freight elevator that took them to the basement.  When the elevator doors opened, Bill saw two hulking men in suits guarding a metal door at the end of a hallway.

“Good evening, Mr. Freeman,” one of the men said as he opened the door.

Once through the door, Bill saw a busy casino full of the noise of people gambling and a haze of cigarette smoke.  To his left, he could see two rows of a dozen slot machines.  Behind that, were two roulette tables and two craps tables.  Beyond that was a row of tables where people were playing poker and blackjack. 

To his right, was a full bar and a dozen small tables.  They approached a table with Carl and a scantily clad woman.

Before they could even sit down, a man wearing a white dress shirt, black trousers, and a black velvet vest approached them.

“What can I get you, Mr. Freeman?” the man asked.

“Scotch on the rocks,” Harry replied as pulled out a chair and sat down.

“And for you, sir?” the man asked as he turned his attention to Bill.

“Um…nothing for me, thanks,” Bill replied.

Once the drinks arrived, Carl pulled a wad of money from his pocket and handed it to the woman.

“Here you go, doll, have some fun,” Carl said.

When the woman left, Carl leaned forward and looked directly at Bill.

“Listen, kid, I’ve been thinking.   I’m not sure you understand how important this job you’re doing for me a week from Saturday night really is.  I’m just not sure you’re ready to do it.”

Bill felt his heart begin to race. 

“No…Carl…I’m ready.  I’ve been practicing on the fork truck all week. I have no doubt I can do it.”

“It’s not you’re driving I’m worried about.  I mean, do you really understand what you are doing?”

Bill rested his forearms on the table and calmly looked Carl in the eyes.

“I know I’m unloading a truck in the middle of the night.  So, whatever is on that truck…it isn’t furniture.  I also know you didn’t give me that gun so I could shoot at more beer bottles.  I know all about the slot machine operation.   I understand what I’m doing.”

“This ain’t about slot machines, kid.  I’m moving up to something bigger and better.”

“Then what am I unloading?” Bill asked with a raised eyebrow.
“It’s marijuana.  The college kids out here are going so crazy for the stuff, I have to expand my operation.  First, you’ll be unloading 400 pounds of the best marijuana California has to offer.  Then we’ll put 40 pounds of the stuff into furniture boxes and give them to 10 of my distributors.  The distributors will split it up and sell it a few ounces at a time.  This one deal will bring in more money than all those slot machines over there will in a year.  That’s why I’ll be there to personally oversee it.  I want to make sure everything goes off without a hitch.”

Bill could feel his heart pounding in his chest.  Now he knew why Peter didn’t want to do this job.  Making slot machines was one thing, but selling marijuana, that was completely different.  Bill wanted no part of unloading drugs.  But he knew he couldn’t let Carl see any hesitation.  He had to put on his best poker face.

“You can count on me,” Bill replied trying desperately to sound confident.  

A bulky man wearing a suit approached the table and looked at Carl.

“Hey, boss, there’s a guy over there in a gray suit at the blackjack table.  I can tell by the way he talks he ain’t from around here.  Anyway, he asked to talk to you.  He said Lizzie Fields sent him.  What do you want me to do?” the man asked.

As Bill, Harry and Carl glanced over, Bill saw Bo sitting at one of the card tables in a gray suit.

 “Are you sure he said Lizzie Fields?   I haven’t used that password in years,” Carl said.

“That’s what he said, boss.”

“I recognize that guy,” Harry said.  “He said he was a newspaper reporter.  He tried to interview me for some kind of story.”

 Carl combed his mustache with his index finger and thumb. “A newspaper reporter you say.”  He looked across the bar at Bo with an icy glare, then looked at the man. “Tell him I’m not here.  Wait until he leaves…follow him…. Then hide the body were it will never be found.”

A lump formed in Bill’s throat.  He glanced over at his uncle expecting some sort of reaction.  But he just sat silently calmly sipping his drink.

  After the man disappeared into the back room, Bill watched a different man deliver the message to Bo.  Bo played a few more games of blackjack then got up and headed toward the back door. 

Bill stood.  “Well, it’s getting late, and I have to be at work early in the morning.  So, I guess I’ll see you a week from Saturday,” Bill said before he turned and calmly walked toward the door. 

 

Once he left the casino, he hurried up the flight of stairs and walked briskly through the hotel lobby.  When he made it outside, he ran as fast as he could to the parking lot.  Out of breath, Bill put his hands on his knees and frantically scanned the area for any sign of Bo or his car.  Just then, Bill spotted Bo’s blue Ford leaving.  A moment later a black sedan pulled out behind it.  Bill sprinted to his car and sped to The Sky View Motel where Bo was staying.

As he pulled into the motel parking lot, Bill saw Bo walking toward his room.  Across the lot, two men in suits were getting out of the black sedan.  Bill quickly pulled up beside Bo and opened the passenger door of his car.

“Get in,” Bill shouted. 

Bo placed his hands into his pockets, calmly leaned over and looked into the car. “And why exactly would I do that?”  he asked with a laugh.

“I don’t have time to explain.  But those two guys over there are coming to kill you.  So, if you don’t want that to happen, I suggest you get into the car now,” Bill said urgently, pointing to the two men approaching them.

 Still smiling, Bo stood upright and saw the two men coming toward him.  But the smile left his face when he saw one of the men pull a gun from underneath his suit jacket.   Bo quickly jumped into the car.   Before he could even close the door, Bill popped the clutch and pressed the gas pedal to the floor throwing Bo into the passenger seat.  With the tires squealing on the pavement, Bill pulled out onto the street.

Bo gripped the dashboard with both and hands and pulled himself upright.  “Are those two friends of yours?” he asked.

Bill checked the rearview mirror to see if the black sedan was following them. “Carl Hellman sent them after you.  You must have got some bum information, Bo.   When you asked to talk to Carl back at the casino, you gave the wrong password.”

Bo jerked his head toward Bill with a raised eyebrow.   “And how exactly would you know something like that?  Unless of course, that was Mr. Hellman sitting with you and your uncle in the bar.”

“Yeah, that was Carl.  And if he finds out you’re still alive…,” Bill shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair.   “We have to get you out of town.”
“Very well…take me back to the motel and I will head back to South Carolina tonight.”

Bill looked at Bo wide eyed. “Are you crazy?”  I can’t take you back there.  Those thugs will kill you for sure.”

“So, is this your plan?  Kidnap me, and then hold me hostage so I can’t take my story back to my editor?”

Bill glared at Bo.  “This isn’t about the story, Bo.  This is about keeping you alive.”

Bill took a deep breath to compose himself.  “Okay, first, we need to find you another motel.  Then somehow, I’ll figure out a way to get your belongings to you…Then we can both get out of town.  I just hope those two guys don’t recognize my car and tell Carl I helped you escape,” Bill said, rechecking the rearview mirror to see if they were being followed.

Bo stared for a moment out the windshield then bowed his head.  “There is no need to find a motel.   I…I have other accommodations,” Bo said softly.

Bo gave Bill directions to a neighborhood in a nearby town.  As they drove through the darkness, Bill couldn’t help but notice how uncharacteristically quiet Bo was.

 

Reviews

[SweetNutmeg]

No typos or little mistakes, which I continue to find impressive. You are very good at proof reading.

And wow! That was a surprise! I had NOT expected that to happen. Bo is frustrating even when he's being rescued. His initial nonchalant response was infuriating. And now, I am desperately curious what is going to happen to Bill. Will he be discovered as an undercover reporter? Will Bo get away? Will they join forces? Will Bill stick around to unload that marijuana? I'm also curious how Peter is going to handle something he disagrees with morally, going on right beneath his nose. I'm full of questions!

[Gary]

Thank you for your encouraging words, they mean a lot to me.

[Michelle Saldana]

Whoa... So it's true... Carl Hellman is actually John Dillinger. Gah!

One suggestion that I have for that mind-blowing reveal is to build up more details around the scene in order to enhance the impact.

Nevertheless, it seriously hit me like a shockwave, leaving me almost open-mouthed in surprise.

The casino scene is undeniably intense. Then, just when I thought things couldn't get more gripping, Bo's unexpected entrance propels the suspense to a whole new level.

I'm eagerly anticipating the unfolding of Bill and Bo's relationship and how they'll navigate the escalating danger that they're facing.