Mick the Dick Ch. 38

After work, especially after a day like this, I just had to hit Murphy's Pub. This was one of those days I'd like to live upstairs from Murphy's so I could drink and not worry about having to drive. I had to deal with getting the tape back, talking to Teresa, get yelled at by Holly, and sicking my attorney on the biggest news station in the city.

On the way to Murphy's I took a little detour past a liquor store and picked up a bottle of bourbon and one of tequila. After the last couple of weeks, I had put a serious dent on my supply at the house.

Carla had taken a detour past her apartment to change clothes which meant we would probably get there around the same time. When I drove past the front of Murphy's. There was this familiar little red Corvette convertible parked out front. A couple of cars in front of it was a silver Mercedes convertible. Naa! As much as I wanted to go to Murphy's, I wasn't ready to deal with that.

I pulled around the corner and called Carla on the cell.

"How 'bout we go to my place and order out?"

"Sure, but I thought you wanted to go to Murphy's."

"I did, but considering there is a red Vette and silver Benz parked out front, I'd rather have a nice QUIET dinner and a few drinks with you."

"I'll meet you at your house."

The more I thought about it the more I really wanted to just relax. A couple extra drinks, soaking in the hot tub, I'd be like a new man... especially with the right company.

Now, what was I in the mood for? Pizza? Well, yeah. I'm always in the mood for Pizza. Mexican? There's the answer. Carla loves Mexican, especially with her tequila. And guess what? There's a full bottle on the seat next to me. And guess what? There's a Mexican carry-out on the way.

Still being a little paranoid about my best buddies, the Dipshit brothers, I was watching in my rearview mirror. There wasn't anything obvious. And the way I drive, someone would have to drive at least as bad as me to stay with me, right?

I stopped by the Mexican place and picked up a half-dozen tacos, "fajitas por dos", fajitas for two, and two fried ice creams. While I was waiting for the food, I ran next door and picked up two six packs of Corona. I figured we could have our own little Mexican celebration for... well... anything.

When I got to the house, Carla's car was in the driveway. She doesn't have a key to my house, at least I don't think she does. Maybe she does. I tried the front door and it was still locked. I went inside and deactivated the alarm. Okay, I know she isn't inside. I went to the back door and looked out. There she was, already in the hot tub.

I unlocked the door and went out onto the deck, arms full of goodies.

"Now how did you know I was in the mood for Mexican?", Carla asked as I stumbled my way to the table with the bags.

"That's my profession, ma'am."

Carla got out of the tub with nothing on. She leaned over and picked up a bottle of tequila from next to the tub. "See?"

"Excuse me, ma'am, but there are laws in this community about running around naked in public, it's called indecent exposure."

Carla stopped and looked at me. She assumed a slightly exaggerated modeling pose. "Do you think this is indecent?"

"No ma'am. I don't. It would make a rather nice ad for Jose' Cuervo."

"Nobody can see back here anyway." She slipped a black blouse on.

Carla walked over and gave me a kiss. She opened the bag to see what I picked up. I took the bag with the fried ice cream and put it in the freezer. When I walked back onto the deck with two shot glasses for the tequila, Carla had already opened a bottle of Corona and killed it. She had a taco in her other hand and took a healthy bite out of it as I walked towards her.

"I'm sorry, but I'm hungry."

"Go right ahead. I'll catch up."

I took the bottle of tequila Carla had already opened and poured each of us a shot. "Where'd you get this?", I asked holding up the bottle.

"I stopped and picked it up on the way. I noticed you were getting a little low the other night. I almost stopped and picked up the food, but then I thought you might not be in the mood."

"In the mood for what?", I asked with a devilish grim.

"Mexican food."

"Oh! That!?"

"Pheury!"

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I know, you're always in the mood."

"You have a lot of room to talk, running around naked like that."

I pulled a taco from the bag and opened a Corona. I sat the beer down and picked up my shot of tequila, "Here's looking at you kid."

Carla picked up her shot and returned the toast. "Cheers!"

We finished off a six pack, half of the bottle of tequila, and all of the food before we even got into the hot tub. I went inside and slipped out of my clothes. Just in case someone stopped by, I put on a pair of swim shorts. On my way back out, I took the fried ice creams out of the freezer.

"Oops! We almost forgot the best part.", Carla said as I approached the tub.

"I didn't. I've been saving the best for last."

Along with such delicacies as Corona, Pacifico, tequila of any brand, and Mexican food in general, the most important single contribution to society from Mexico has to be fried ice cream. Even though it is best when served right out of the fryer, warm on the outside - cold on the inside, a lot like my ex-wife, fried ice cream is great any way at all.

Carla and I sat on the edge of the hot tub and enjoyed our dessert. We chased it down with the tequila and another beer.

The rest of the night was very much like the other evenings Carla and I had been spending together lately. We relaxed in the hot tub for a while and then went inside and made love. That's right love, not just sex. I was really, really enjoying having her around all the time. Yet, I was still hesitant on mentioning either of the two "M" words that have a tendency to ruin relationships, "move-in" or "marriage".

I felt as though Carla would do either, and even though she had never come right out and said so, I think she'd love to have a kid. Me? I always thought about it, but now, at my age, I can't imagine having some rug rat running around. Hell, I'd be mid-60's by the time they'd graduate from high school.

In the morning, Carla had gotten up and had breakfast done before I dragged my sorry ass out of bed. I ate, did a little workout in the gym, and then went for a little run. Naturally, I made the little detour past the gun safe on the way out. Something was telling me I was going to have company.

I walked down the driveway scanning around a bit. To my right, I saw a bright blue import parked where there normally aren't any cars. All of the American made Japanese cars look alike these days so I wasn't sure what make it was. It also had dark tint on the windows so I couldn't tell how many occupants there were. Because of the terrain and shrubs, I don't think they could have seen me yet, so I ran back inside to grab my cell phone. I quickly told Carla what was up. She wanted to come with me, but I told her no. "If I need you, I'll call."

I started on my trek once again. This time, I left by way of the back door and cut through the back yards of two of my neighbors. This would put me behind where the blue car is parked. This would give me the opportunity to run past the car and see if it was occupied and maybe identify who it was.

I ran down the driveway as if it were mine and out into the street. As I got near the car I stopped and acted as though one of my shoes needed to be retied. With the help of the rising sun shining through the opposite side of the car I could barely make out one occupant, the driver. I couldn't make out enough to identify him.

I took off up the street once again, giving him plenty of chance to make his move, if that was his intent. I made it all of the way to the park before I actually saw that the car was following me. Oh, I knew it was following me. My sixth sense radar was actively pinging away letting me know it was back there, but this was the first time the driver slipped just enough for me to see the sun bounce off the chrome trim.

Trying to see just how good this person was at trying to trail someone, I deviated from my normal path and darted directly into the woods. I could see the blue car speed up and turn into the parking lot of the park. Once I was far enough into the woods, I stopped so I could see what the driver was going to do. The driver got out of the car and ran back towards where I had entered the woods.

I was totally expecting another encounter with the Dipshit brothers, but was fooled. I didn't recognize this guy. He was a little younger than either of the Dipshits. I guess I'll call him O'Shit. He must be an Irish cousin. He was dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a bright red golf shirt. So much for camouflage. I took off towards where I hoped the trail would be. Even with the age difference, I hoped I could outrun him on a cleared surface. The sticks and leaves were advertising my position to him. Luckily, there was that slight echo associated with most woods that hopefully was throwing him off just a little.

When I finally got to the trail, I went to the left, back towards the parking lot. Remember how I told you the trail went in a type of a loop? Well most of the trail does. I don't know how I ended up on this trail but it led me right to a stream. "If I remember right," I thought to myself, "the other trail comes close to stream too."

The trail I am on continues on the other side of the stream. Nope, I didn't want to go that way, so I started along the bank. I could hear O'Shit still trailing me. I made it to the loop trail and made a left. This was looking familiar now. I was able to make up for lost time.

I made it to the split where I confused the Dipshit brothers the other day when I saw Laura jogging towards me.

"Hi, Mick. Good to see you again."

"I can't talk right now, Laura."

"Trying to lose a tail again, Mick."

That stopped me dead in my tracks. "Tail?!?"

Laura pulled a small badge case from her waste sack. She flipped it open. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw her gold colored State Police badge and I.D. card. "I found out what happened the other morning when we met."

"Ahh! Okay. Yes, someone is following me again."

"Do you want to find out who they are, or do you already know. Maybe your news friends?"

"It's not either of the ones from the other day."

"Just one?"

"Yep! Just one."

We could hear the pitter patter of little feet running down the trail.

"Hide behind that tree, Mick." She pointed to a big tree just off the trail.

As O'Shit came down the trail towards Laura, she flipped her badge out. "Sir! State Police. I need to talk to you."

O'Shit had an "oh shit" look on his face as he hit the brakes. His feet tangled forcing him to stumbled, trip, and go airborne right into Laura, knocking her down. O'Shit struck his head on one of the logs that lines the trail, knocking himself out.

I took my cue and jumped out from behind the tree and ran over to Laura who was shaking off the blow.

"Are you okay?", I asked her as I reached down to help her up.

"Yeah, I think so. Did you get the tag number of that truck?", she asked with a giggle.

I helped Laura to her feet, "Ooo! Ouch! I think I hurt something." She couldn't put her weight down on her right foot. So I helped her to sit on one of the logs. "You better check on him."

I rolled O'Shit over onto his back. He moaned a little as he started to regain consciousness. He had one heck of a knot right in the center of his forehead. He raised his hands up to his head.

"I think he's okay."

"I think I sprained my ankle," she said, "it hurts like a mutha."

I took a look at Laura's ankle. I rubbed it lightly. "Does that hurt?"

"No. That actually feels pretty good." Laura chuckled, "Considering that's the wrong ankle."

I could feel myself blush, "Oops! Sorry about that." I looked at her other ankle. It was swelling up pretty good.

"Don't be sorry, it took my mind off the other one. Now if you could only do that to my butt. That's what I landed on." We both laughed.

By that I noticed someone running up the trail from the parking lot. As she got to the split in the trail, I saw that it was Carla. She stopped and gave me a look of instant murder.

"Ah hah! Going for a run. Being tailed again, huh?"

"Ah, Carla, wait a second."

Laura spoke up. "I'm a State Trooper..."

"And I'm a don't give a shit!"

Laura held up her badge and I.D., "No, I really am. This guy," she pointed to O'Shit, "was following Mick and fell into me when we tried to stop him to find out what he was doing. Right, Mick?"

"That's right."

Carla looked over at O'Shit who was just starting to sit up, still rubbing his head.

"I'm sorry, Mick," Laura whispered, "I didn't know you were married. I don't even know your last name."

I started to laugh nervously, "I'm not married. This isn't my wife. Carla, this is Laura. Laura, Carla, my girlfriend and girl Friday."

Both girls looked at each other and smiled. They both turned towards me and started laughing. I guess it was one of those female E.S.P. things us men wouldn't understand.

"Ahhh, what happened?", O'Shit moaned as he finished sitting up.

"You just assaulted a Trooper.", I said.

His eyes bugged out like a cartoon. "I what? No I didn't. I tripped. I didn't mean to run into her."

"So you admit you ran into her."

"No! I mean, yes. I mean, it was an accident. I didn't mean to."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Al Jones. I'm a private investigator, just like you." He pulled out his identification and handed me a business card.

"Not just like me. I'm not laying in the mud and poison ivy."

He jumped up to his feet. "Poison ivy?!? I'm allergic to that stuff."

"I know most of the private dicks around here, I've never seen you before."

"I'm actually from out of town. One of Mr. Armacost's friends recommended me. Mr. Armacost wanted someone you wouldn't know."

"Who's your client?"

"I can't tell you that. You know that's privileged information."

"Okay. Then I guess we'll have to wait until you get to trial on the assaulting a police officer charge."

"I didn't assault any police officer. I fell."

"That's not what I saw. I saw this Trooper identify herself to you and you attacked her, knocking her to the ground."

"Alright, alright. I was hired by Benjamin Armacost."

"Armacost?"

"That's right. He thinks you are having an affair with his wife."

Oh no! Here we go again. "He thinks I'm having an affair with his wife? He really is screwed up, isn't he?"

"Look, can we discuss this over tea?"

"Tea? How about coffee?"

"I can't drink coffee, but I'll take a tea."

"Okay. But I think we better get her to the hospital first."

Laura stood up. "No, I think I'll be fine, Mick. I'll just put some ice on it, if I can get some help to my car."

"Sure. Put your arm around my shoulders." I put my arm around her waist and pulled her tight against me. Carla watched every move.

As we got to the parking lot, I helped Laura get in her car. "How are you going to explain this?", I asked her.

"Well, I could write up a report that you asked for my assistance and say what happened. That way, just in case I need to do a workman's comp claim. Besides, that would be an injury in the line of duty and I wouldn't have to take sick time."

I handed her O'Shit's business card and one of mine. I wrote my home number on the back. "In case you need anything, call me."

Laura handed me one of her cards. "I think I'll be okay. I think it's just a sprain. I'm off the next two days anyway."

"Well, let me know how you're doing."

"Okay." She moved a little closer to whisper, "Can I still cash in on the butt rub?"

"Sure thing. Call me."

Carla was on the other side of her car. She couldn't hear, but she sure acted like she could.

"Well Mr. Jones. Your reputation is on the line here, not to mention your license. One professional to another, I'm going to extend a little professional courtesy to you. Meet me at the little coffee shop up the block from my office in an hour."

"Yes sir, Mr. Pheury. I'll be there."

As I turned to get into Carla's car, she was pulling out of the driveway. "Oops!"

I turned towards Jones O'Shit, "You'd better make that an hour and a half."

"Can I give you a lift?"

"No, I should finish my run anyway. Thanks." I jogged towards the street and my house.

By the time I got to my house, Carla was already gone. I was wondering if she was really pissed off or just teasing me. All of the things I have done to her that should have given her a reason to be pissed off, I can't imagine why she'd get mad at this. She had to be fucking with me.

I showered and shaved, the other "S" I took care of earlier. I made my way to the office and had a few minutes to spare. I ran up to the office before meeting Jones O'Shit.

I walked through the door. "Hi, Schweetheart."

Carla just looked up at me and back to her computer. "I thought you have a meeting."

"I do, in about 10 minutes. I wanted to see you first."

"Haa!"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, just haa!"

"Why'd you drive off and leave me on the lot?"

"Since when do you need any help?"

She took me by surprise. "What do you mean by that?"

"You said you didn't need my help, but then you ask for it from a female trooper."

"I didn't ask her for it. She just happened to be there. And I didn't say I didn't need your help, I told you if I needed it I would call you. Is that what this is about?"

Carla continued what she was doing on her computer.

"I'm going down to meet O'Shit. I'll be back in a few minutes. Do you want me to bring you something back?"

"No! If I need something, I'll get it myself."

Okay, now I knew she was fucking with me. When she acts this way, why marry her? She already knows how to act like a wife.

I went to the little shop and grabbed a table. I ordered a cinnamon raisin bagel with cream cheese, a large coffee, and a small orange juice. As my order came to the table, Jones came into the shop. He saw me and walked over and sat down. His clothes were still rather dirty from our earlier encounter. The knot on his head was now very pronounced giving him a unicornish appearance.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Mr. Pheury. I had a problem finding a parking spot."

"That's okay. And the name is Mick or Pheury, drop the mister crap." I casually took a bite out of my bagel. "Would you like something?"

"Okay, Mick. I'm Al. And a cup of tea with milk and one sugar will be great."

"Okay Al. Why are you following me around?"

"Armacost thinks his wife is fooling around on him."

"So, Armacost thinks I'm having an affair with his wife?"

"I don't know. He thinks she's fucking around with somebody. Look Mick, I was asked to follow you around and see if you are the one. That's all. This morning, when you took off into the woods, I didn't want to lose you. That's the only reason I followed you. I was afraid you were going to double back on me and I'd lose you when you went to work."

"But why does he think it's me having an affair with Teresa?"

"Somebody told him how tight you are with the owner of Murphy's Pub. She's selling the wharf to them. The night he got caught with Stacy What's-her-name, you were there. And he claims he saw you at a sports bar downtown with her. He thinks you keep showing up."

"He has lost it. Yes, I am tight with Murphy. The night he was caught I drove one of his guest's limo. And, the night he saw me with someone at a sports bar downtown, I was sitting next to his daughter. He even introduced us. I think he's confused and grabbing at straws."

"So, do I have your word, one professional to another that you are not having an affair with Teresa Armacost?"

"You have my word as a professional and a gentleman." Alright, so I lied about the gentleman part, but only as much as he could accept it as a professional.