Bam
THE RED NEON glow of the Rudy’s Place sign cast an ominous glow over the few cars left in the parking lot.
What the hell am I doing back to Elwood?
Most of us (me and the band) now lived in Montgomery, which is about seventy five miles away from Elwood, but once I’d moved there I had yet to return to my home town. There were simply too many ghosts there.
I grabbed my bag from the taxi’s trunk and checked my watch. It was a little after midnight; still plenty of time before last call. I was definitely going to need a few drinks to get to sleep, but that wasn’t the only reason for stopping in. Rudy’s Place was one of the oldest bars in town. My good friend Tucker Harman’s family had purchased the place when we were kids and he had been running the joint for years. I knew if I was going to start poking around town, I’d need to play a little catch up first. Who better to help me do that than the local bartender?
“You can’t spell Alabama without B… A… Fuckin’ M!” Tucker yelled from behind the bar, grinning widely.
“Mother Tucker!” I exclaimed back warmly.
Both the bar, and Tucker looked more or less the same as I’d last seen them. Perhaps both were a little worse for wear, but still full of character.
“What the hell is Mr. big time rock star doing here?” Tucker asked while coming from behind the bar, his arms held out wide.
“I keep asking myself the exact same thing brother,” I said as we hugged. “I’m actually here to meet with an FBI agent about my mother’s murder case.”
“No shit?
I nodded. “We’re meeting tomorrow, but I wanted to stop in here first.”
“Drink?”
It was a point of pride among certain southern men to use as few words as possible when conversing. Tucker had always excelled at this.
“I’ll take a Maker’s Mark if you’re pouring,” I said.
“How long since you’ve been back home?”
The word home rattled around in my head for a while. I knew what he meant but it had been a long time since Elwood was home. I suppose Montgomery was really my home. It’s where my place was, but I’m not sure it ever felt like home. In reality, the road had been my home since I was a kid. In the past ten years I’d slept more on busses and in motel rooms than anywhere. In fact, it had only been two years ago that we’d moved out of the band house and each member got his own place. Even though we’d finally started making some real money, I was still renting a place. It never felt quite right to put down roots there.
“Since right after my mother’s murder,” I responded.
“And now the FBI is looking into her case?”
“I guess so. Honestly, I’m not really sure what the fuck is going on, that’s why I’m here.”
“How can I help?” he asked with what I knew was genuine concern. People from Elwood wore their hearts on their sleeves, for better or worse. You always knew where you stood with the locals.
“Well, for starters you can pour me another one of these,” I said as I finished my drink. Tucker smiled and happily obliged. “Next, you can tell me where I can find my old man.”
Tucker stopped smiling. “Shit, Bam, you don’t know? No one told you?”
“Told me what?” I asked slowly.
“Your father’s dead, bud. He died about three years ago.”
“How?”
“Cirrhosis,” he answered plainly.
I hated my father and wasn’t at all surprised to hear that he drank himself to death, but the news that he was dead still sent a shock through me. Regardless, I refused to allow myself to feel one ounce of pity for the man.
“Fuck him,” I said as I raised my glass, before slamming down the remainder of its contents.
“He’s still your daddy, Bam,” Tucker said.
I shot him a look to remind him of what a prick that man had always been.
“Fair enough,” he responded and poured us both another round before making a toast of his own. “To the return of the prodigal son and the death of his asshole daddy.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I responded before bringing the sweet amber heat to my lips.
* * *
Lucy
My phone buzzed and I answered as soon as I read the screen. “Hey.”
“Hey, baby,” Bam rasped.
“What’s wrong?”
He let out a sigh. “My dad’s dead.”
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said. “He was a fuckin’ piece of shit.”
I bit my lip and blinked back tears. “Bam.”
He sighed again. God, he sounded wrecked.
I leaned against the kitchen counter. “Can I just say something and then I’ll drop the subject?”
“You’ll drop it forever?” he challenged.
“If you want me to,” I promised.
“I want you to.”
I rolled my eyes. “I get that your dad wasn’t a good man, but he still sort of helped to raise you. Even if you don’t feel as though he did a good job, I happen to really like the man you’ve become. Despite the fact you probably did most of that yourself in spite of your father, it must be a mind bend to have lost the two people who made you. So, I would really love it if you’d let yourself grieve.”
“Not sad he’s dead, Luce.”
“I get that, honey. But you need to let yourself feel whatever it is you’re feeling. Don’t stuff it, okay?”
He didn’t say anything for several tense seconds. “I hear you.”
“Good.” I smiled. “I’m here if you need me.”
“Got it.”
“Dropping the subject now,” I said.
“Appreciate it, baby.”
“Are you sleeping?”
“As much as I did before.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Will you promise me you’ll take it easy?”
He chuckled. “Right.”
“Well, will you promise me you’ll try to take it easy, then?”
“Yeah, Lucy, I’ll try.”
“What’s the plan tomorrow?”
“Meetin’ with the FBI guy, then I guess I’ll go from there.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Kind of, I guess. Just wish this shit would die, you know?”
“I do, honey. I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
“I know, but I wish I could be there with you.”
“I’m gonna finish it as fast as I can.”
“That’d be good,” I said.
“Oh yeah? How come?”
“No reason… I just miss you.”
“You do?”
I lowered myself onto the sofa. “Um, duh. You gave me, like, forty-two orgasms last night.”
He chuckled. “You want me for my dick… I get it.”
“Well, excuse me for wanting a little bam bam from Bam,” I retorted. “My rabbit simply doesn’t suffice anymore.”
“Better fuckin’ not,” he warned. “Your orgasms belong to me now.”
“Well, then you better get back here quick-like. I need more.”
“I’m workin’ on it.”
“Where are you staying?”
“Shithole motel at the edge of Elwood.”
I giggled. “How many motels are there in Elwood?”
“Just one… which is why I’m here.”
I shuddered. “Ugh, nothing better, huh?”
“Not unless I want to spend most of my time in the car,” he said. “It’s fine for the moment. As soon as I’m done, I’ll be heading back to Montgomery so I can wrap shit up with the band.”
“I wish I was there,” I said again. I was admittedly fishing, but he hadn’t said the magic words before.
“Me too, baby.”
There they were. I grinned.
“I’m gonna let you go,” he said. “I’ll call you as soon as I can tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I stood and walked into the kitchen. “Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Bye, baby.”
“Bye.”
We hung up and I put my plan into motion.
* * *
Bam
I stepped out into the morning air and dialed Jimmy’s number.
“Hey man, what’s going on? What time is it?” he answered.
“Early,” I responded with a smile. It was always good to hear Jimmy’s voice.
“Why the fuck are you awake during commuter sheep hours? I thought you were on vacation.”
“I’m home actually. That’s why I’m calling.”
“Shit, man, if you’re home, swing by a little later when I’m awake.”
Jimmy and I lived four doors down from one another.
“I’m not at my place, I’m home, as in down home.”
“You’re in Elwood?” Jimmy responded, now sounding a little more awake.
“Yeah, I won’t be in town for long, but wanted to let you know I was here in case you heard something from the family.”
“What brought you back to Elwood?”
“My mom,” I answered. “The FBI is looking into her case and I’m meeting with a guy this morning. He wants to poke around and figures I can help.”
“Wow, you want me to come down?”
“Thanks man, I’m good. Honestly, I’m not even exactly sure why I’m here, but I figure if there’s a chance we can finally find out who’s responsible for my mother’s murder I have to do everything I can.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“If you could let the guys know what’s going on, I’d appreciate it,” I said. “I should be back in Montgomery in a few days and we can talk then.”
We wrapped up our conversation just as I reached the Starlight Diner. I pushed through the double doors, the familiar smell of coffee, stale cigarette smoke, and breakfast on the griddle momentarily transporting me back in time. I couldn’t recount the hours I’d spent in this diner.
I noticed a stern looking man in a dark blue suit sitting with his back against a wall, eyes on the exits, and since he looked totally out of place, I assumed this was Agent Quinn. I made my way to the table and gave him a nod. “Agent Quinn?”
“Mr. Nelson. Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking my hand as I sat down.
“Please call me Bam.”
“Bam. Thanks for meeting with me so early. I know you got in late last night, but I’m on a bit of time crunch and so wanted to get started as soon as possible.”
“What’s all this about exactly?” I asked impatiently.
“Simply put, I believe your mother’s murder may somehow be linked to an ongoing FBI investigation into the Dixie Mafia. I would have never found the possible connection had Mack not asked me to look into your stolen money.”
Special Agent Jaxon Quinn seemed like he was all business. He looked totally out of place in this small town diner and yet completely confident. I had no idea if this guy was going to be a straight shooter or full of shit, but Mack asked me to trust him, so that’s what I was going to do.
“Chas Chambers has serious ties to the Dixie Mafia,” he continued. “They bankrolled his earliest business ventures when he arrived here from England twenty years ago. He proved to be a capable earner for them, and knew how to handle himself when things got rough. It wasn’t long before he was known as trustworthy within the organization, and not much long after that he started skimming from them.”
“I’d love to say I’m shocked,” I said flatly.
“You knew about his ties to the Dixie Mafia?”
“No, but I’m not surprised that piece of shit is involved with them. It wasn’t my choice to bring him on. I never liked the guy and I hope he rots in the shittiest federal prison there is, but I still don’t see what any of this has to do with my mother.”
“Upon looking for the money Chas had stolen from your band, I saw that we already had a file on him due to his mafia connections. Your name was in his file due to him being Roses for Anna’s manager, which isn’t strange, but I did notice a flag on your name.”
“What do you mean a flag?”
“You were listed as potential witness in your mother’s murder case and the recorded statement you gave to the police was attached.”
“Why does the FBI have a file on my mother’s case? Wouldn’t that all have been handled by the local police?”
“Yes, but about a year ago the bureau noticed a pattern of unsolved murders throughout Alabama, Louisiana, Arkansas, and Mississippi, that appeared to date back over fifteen years. The killings were identical, and all in Dixie Mafia territory. Once I saw the details of your mother’s murder, and how little the local PD did to solve it, I knew we had another example.”
“Example of what exactly?”
“Of a Dixie Mafia hit.”
Lights flickered behind my eyes and my field of vision narrowed. I took a deep breath to keep from blacking out. “A hit? Why would my mother have been executed by the mafia?”
“All I can tell you right now, is we’re building a case against some key players. I have some big questions and there may be people within this town that can provide answers.”
“I don’t know anything and have barely spoken to anyone in this town since I left. I can’t see how I can be any help to you.”
“People in this town know you, Bam, and I have a feeling they will talk to you a lot sooner and easier than they would talk to me.”
“Maybe. But if people didn’t talk twelve years ago, why would they talk now?” I asked.
“Because… I’m the one asking the questions this time,” he said in a low, controlled tone.
Well, shit.