11
Every event replayed in Tim’s mind throughout the long drive to New York, from the moment that he laid his eyes upon Josephine, until the moment that they parted ways. The night when Jitter was murdered was something that he wanted to forget, but he had to admit that it was a turning point for his relationship with her. If her fiancé was still alive, she would have continued to look at him in the same, cold way. Nothing would have happened between them. As one would expect, however, the night she had come to his room dominated his thoughts the most. The whole matter rested upon instinct: Tim had to steer clear of painful memories; that night was the single good memory that he had from his short stay there.
If I could go back in time, I would choose to relive that night. I’d just change one thing: I wouldn’t let you leave the way you did. I would have locked the door. We’d have had sex over and over again. You had made that ‘mistake’ once; why not do it again? Damn it, Tim … Why did you freeze like that? You just let her walk out that door. I just thought I could have her again. I didn’t want to believe she could be so stubborn.
Sleep-deprived and utterly exhausted, Tim arrived in Manhattan a few minutes after dawn on a cold, late-February morning. The Big Apple sparkled in the near darkness. As breathtaking as it was, the view did not move him. He was so disappointed in himself. Once again, he had failed to stay in one place. Of course, he could take comfort in the fact that leaving his last job was not entirely his fault, but it did not change the reality of unemployment. Caitlin would not appreciate his choice at all. He was in no condition to argue with her. In desperate need of a hot cup of coffee, he noticed an open downtown café where he could find what he needed.
Before he parked his car, he heard on the radio that Paul Jitter had indeed been murdered. According to the autopsy report, he had been shot from a distance with a high-caliber rifle. They found a single bullet, lodged in his neck, thereby confirming Tim’s suspicions.
Minutes later, sitting by the large, sidewalk facing window, he sensed someone staring at him. He lazily turned his head to the left and looked up at the man in question. Surprisingly, he found he knew the curious individual. It was Jon Pantolini, one of his – few – close friends, with a mug of tea in his hands and a rather clever smile on his face.
“Big Tim…” he spoke in his hoarse voice, “long time; no see; where have you been?”
“What’s up, Jon?” Tim returned the smile. “Come take a seat.”
“I heard all about your arrest,” Jon said, sitting across from him; “tough luck.”
“Shit happens, Jonny,” Tim murmured. “What’s new with you?”
“I got a job at the docks, a couple of months ago.” Jon stated: “long hours, freezing cold, crappy pay… I just quit.”
“I just quit my job, too,” Tim grinned, amused by the coincidence.
“What kind of job?” Jon got curious.
“Security guard,” Tim replied. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“We were not meant to be blue-collar guys, my friend,” Jon lowered his tone and leaned forward.
“I don’t know, Jonny,” Tim shrugged his shoulders. “It’s amazing how things can get complicated sometimes.”
“Not if we can help it,” Jon disagreed. “You see, working at the docks can give you access to lots of useful information.”
“Look, man. I haven’t slept all night. It’s a little too early for riddles, anyway,” Tim protested.
“Does the name ‘Chester Bradford’ sound familiar to you?” Jon asked, tension growing in his face.
“Yeah,” Tim said with a nod. “He’s some rich art collector.”
“Oh, no,” Jon shook his head sideways, as the smile on his face widened. “He’s not just an art collector. Five weeks ago, he bought a few paintings. I opened the container because the left side was broken. I pulled the shattered part up and that damn thing was loaded with cocaine. The guy’s a drug dealer.”
“So what” Tim questioned, still not understanding what his friend was getting at.
“I dug up some information on him. He’s heir to some huge, real estate firm. He’s a billionaire. He uses the firm as a front. Rumor has it that he keeps tons of cash in his house in North Haven. What do you say?” Jon’s proposal intrigued him; it couldn’t have come at a better time. Still, Tim was on parole and going up against a drug dealer was something that he had never done before.
“It’s dangerous,” he commented. “A lot more dangerous than anything else I’ve done. Besides, we both prefer working alone. Can’t you do this by yourself?”
“Nope,” came Jon’s sharp response. “I also researched his alarm system. It’s state-of-the-art; I can’t get into the specifics right now. All I can say is that I’m a little too fat to do this by myself. Whoever does this, he must be quick; athletic. There’s so much money in there that we’re going to need a goddamn wheelbarrow to carry it.”
“I need some time to think about it,” Tim said.
“You’d better not take too long,” Jon smirked. “That prick’s in Switzerland. He’ll be back in a few days.”
“You’ve really done your homework,” Tim remarked.
“Of course,” Jon winked at him.
“Did you hear about that murder in Vermont?” It was Tim’s turn to pose a question.
“Heard of it?” Jon laughed. He threw a few, furtive glances around him, before leaning towards his friend. “I know the guy who did it.” Jon’s words ran through him like an electrical current. Tim struggled to hide his surprise and decided to keep his mouth shut, in eager anticipation for whatever his friend had to say. “I was with him, the night before. He said he had to ‘take care’ of someone in Vermont.”
“I knew the victim.” Tim informed. “He was my boss. Who killed the old man, Jonny? I need a name.”
“His name is Darryl Kirkland,” Jon said, the steady tone of his voice convincing Tim that he was being honest with him. “He’s one of the best in the business. What the hell were you doing in Vermont?”
“I worked there,” Tim explained. “Where can I find him?”
“You can’t,” Jon croaked. “He’s coming back from L.A. tomorrow night. Why do you want to know?”
“I think I know who paid him to take out Jitter,” Tim spoke in a firm tone.
“Does it matter?” Jon wondered. “The guy’s dead.”
“It does matter to me,” Tim grumbled. “Nice talking to you, man. I’ll call you with my answer.”
Regardless of Jon’s proposal, Tim was happy to discover the identity of the man who had executed Josephine’s fiancé. Certainly, the hitman would not be much help, as they tended to be quite secretive about their clients, but he would try to find out more nonetheless, even if that meant the use of extreme measures. Tim had to know if Maddox was behind the shooting. If he was, Josephine would finally be free of him. The next thing that he would do was place an anonymous tip to the police. This would be his way of showing her that he had not forgotten about her. All the same, he was unable to shake the feeling that whatever he did for her would be futile.
Maybe it’s hopeless, but I’m still going to meet with Kirkland,” he thought to himself. “Putting Maddox behind bars might not be enough to change your mind about dating me. Hell, I don’t know what else could. It’s ok, doc. Even if you didn’t love your job so much, you and I have nothing in common. We come from completely different worlds. We were raised differently. I’m an orphan. I’m sure you grew up in a fancy place and your folks loved you to death. They had to be pretty weird. I mean, they named you ‘Josephine’? What are they: French? God, I’m too tired to think about this anymore. I need to get some sleep.
Tim still had a key to Caitlin’s 3rd story apartment on 22nd street and he was going to take full advantage. He didn’t even take his clothes off. Instead, he kicked his shoes off and tumbled onto her white, leather couch, closing his weary eyes. Tim was asleep in minutes.
Chapter Twelve
“You’re lucky I’m not alone …” Caitlin’s feathery voice woke him up. His eyes sprang open. She was standing next to the couch, accompanied by a tall, scrawny man. Indeed, he was in luck; his sister would have snapped at him, had it not been for her boyfriend. She didn’t even introduce them. All Caitlin did was mutter something inaudible and escort the man to the door. He closed the front door behind him, before she opened her mouth again.
“Let me guess,” she spoke in a sarcastic tone. “You missed me.”
“Hi…” he groaned, rubbing his blurry eyes. “Actually, I missed the city.”
“You’re so full of crap…” Caitlin grumbled. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Vermont?”
“I couldn’t stay there any longer, sis,” Tim admitted, sitting up.
“Why?” She cried. “Why did you have to give that …”
“Hey, cut me some slack here!” He yelled. “Can you please get me some coffee?” He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I’ll tell you all about it.”
Caitlin gave a gasp of exasperation, as she turned around. Tim only had a few seconds to prepare his story, but he didn’t need more time. He clearly remembered everything that happened. Just like him, his sister had a bad temper; yet, she was a reasonable person. She brought him coffee and joined him on her couch, with the same, angry look on her face.
Caitlin listened intently, as Tim told her the whole story. He had to repeat himself at first, as he brought up the night of Jitter’s murder, but otherwise, she didn’t interrupt him. According to him, he only mentioned it because he believed that his death gave him a chance with her. Tim also spoke about running into his old friend, but diligently left out Jon’s proposal, as his sister would not approve of anything illegal. By the time he had finished narrating, Caitlin was in disbelief. Everything she had heard had left her in awe. He simply sat in a state of confusion when it looked like she had nothing to say to him. She left the couch and went to the living room window, folding her arms across her chest.
“Women…” she said with a sigh. “We’re quite something, aren’t we?”
“Care to explain?” He requested.
“You said they go way back,” Caitlin’s emphatic tone felt like a good sign; she sounded confident about her conclusion. “This means that they know each other like the back of their hand. They can tell when one of them likes a guy or not. They don’t have to say it to each other. If you want my opinion, the doctor has a crush on you. You’re saying she’s in love with her job. That’s why she’s been avoiding you. She’s afraid you’re going to distract her. But Laura: she’s a whole different animal,” she declared, looking down at him over her right shoulder. “It looks to me that she knows about Josephine’s feelings and she’s just trying to steal you from her. She’s done it before. What’s going to stop her from doing it again?”
“Caitlin, are you crazy?” All of a sudden, Tim’s voice became higher-pitched. “The doc has a crush on me and Laura’s…”
“You can say ‘no way’ about it all you like, big brother,” she interrupted. “It won’t stop being true. Think about it, Tim. When did Laura show any interest in you?”
“I was on the roof,” he recalled. “Laura’s chopper landed, and the doc ignored me. She wouldn’t even look at me.”
“Right” Caitlin exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement, “and Laura noticed. What happened after that?”
“Laura wanted to see me.” Tim whispered, leaning his back against the couch.
“…while Josephine was present!” Caitlin went on, turning around. “Don’t you get it? First, Laura made it look like she wanted to update you on what Josephine had been doing. Then, Laura asked you out. Laura doesn’t want to just hurt Josephine, Tim. Laura wants to destroy Josephine. Why else would Laura insist on you staying there so much? Love at first sight? I don’t think so. Laura wants to see Josephine suffer.”
“It’s way too farfetched.” He voiced his mind.
“Actually…” she paused. “It couldn’t make more sense. There’s only one way to find out. Go back to Vermont. You and the doctor need to have a nice, long talk. I don’t know her that well, but she sounds like a nice girl, Tim. If I were you, I’d stay away from Laura. Then, if things work out between you two, you need to be really careful.”
“So: six more hours on the road?” Tim smiled to himself; “sounds fun.”
“You didn’t hand in your resignation, did you?” she inquired.
“No.” He shook his head sideways. “I just told Laura I was leaving.”
“Thank God,” Caitlin sighed in relief. “You know, for a street guy, your knowledge on women is pretty dismal. You got between a manipulative bitch and a workaholic nerd, and then you freaked out. Didn’t you see the signs?”
“Usually, I can tell when a woman likes me or not,” he claimed in a confident voice.
“You’ve probably never met any geeks,” she chuckled. “My friend Sonia from college used to do that. She would just ignore the guy she had a crush on. She thought it was a good way to get his attention. She didn’t. The guy just wouldn’t give a crap. I’m not sure about Josephine, but my gut feeling says she has been trying to avoid you, because she likes you a little too much.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.” Tim sighed.
“Just be honest with her,” she advised. “Everything else will come naturally.”
“Well then, I have to get going. It’ll be getting dark soon.” Tim said, dropping his gaze from her.
“Good luck,” Caitlin chirped. “Call me; I want to know how it goes.”