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Authors: Mike Faricy

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BOOK: Bulldog (Dev Haskell - Private Investigator Book 9)

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“What are you doing?”

“You can thank me later. Oh, almost forgot,” he said then grabbed the bundle of cash from Bulldogs pocket. “Don’t even ask, man.”

“Not to worry, Freddy, you certainly earned it.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

Casey phoned from the
airport around mid-afternoon. I’d sort of been sitting at my desk in a trance.

“Haskell Investigations.”

“Hi, Dev, will you come and pick me up?”

“Yeah, I can be there in about fifteen minutes.”

“You’re not still mad, are you?”

“No, I’m not mad, Casey.”

She was waiting at door number four on the lower level. It was pretty busy and there were a lot of cars double-parked picking folks up. I saw Casey standing on the curb scanning the cars looking for me. I honked and flashed my lights. She ran toward me, opened the back door and threw her suitcase in. Then she climbed in the front seat and looked at me sheepishly.

“Promise you’re not still mad?”

“I told you on the phone, no, I’m not mad, Casey. Of course, no one else listens to me, so I don’t know why you would.” But I meant it as a joke and smiled when I said it which seemed to let some pressure off.

On the short drive to her home we made idle chit-chat. She told me about New Orleans, the things she’d seen, some of the things she’d done. I pulled in front of her place, got her suit case out of the back seat and followed her up to the front porch.

“Oh it’s so good to be back here. I just needed to get back, Dev. I need to be in the house. I don’t know, now I just wish I could stay here. I mean it was ours, our plan, our dream. God,” she said and then just sort of trailed off.

“Come on in and see the work they’ve done, it looks great,” I said then unlocked the front door and stepped back so she could go in.

She took four steps in past the door and said, “Are you kidding me?” Then she just stood staring at the front room.

“Gorgeous isn’t it?”

“No, it’s painted the wrong color. How could they screw that up? Oh, God, look at the dining room,” she said walking toward the back of the house. Then she stepped across the hallway and opened the door. “And the den, too. They painted them all the wrong colors. What were they thinking? How could they get it all mixed up like that?”

“Wow, I have no idea what they were thinking.”

“Well, it’s still nice to be here. I just wish there was a way for me to stay. Dermot would just love to see everything finished.”

“I think he knows, Casey. Hey look, hang on for a minute. I gotta get something out of the car.” I ran out to the car, then came back in. “Casey?” I called as I came in the door.

“I’m back here in the kitchen,” she said.

When I entered the kitchen she was running her hands over the granite counter tops and tears were welling up in her eyes. “God, I’m such a baby. I miss him so much, Dev, and I feel like I’m running out on him or something.” Then she just broke down and started sobbing. I didn’t quite know what to do so I put my arms around her and that seemed to make her cry all the harder.

“Oh God, look at me, what a mess. If my brothers were here they’d tell me to suck it up. I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to deal with this. It’s just me being a little girl.”

“No you’re not, Casey. You’re being a wonderful woman and the best wife ever for loving Dermot so much.”

“Yeah, thanks for that, course I was his only wife you know.” And then she sort of laughed. She stepped into the bathroom, grabbed some Kleenex, blew her nose then dabbed at her eyes. “There all better. Thanks for picking me up and thanks for not trashing the place while I was gone. Oh God, I’m gonna miss it,” she said and started crying all over again.

“I think it’s maybe time for a glass of wine, Casey.”

“Do you really think that will help?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure it won’t hurt. Besides, we’re almost out of time.”

She sniffled and looked at me strangely.

“The wine first,” I said and pulled a couple of glasses out of the cupboard. I got a corkscrew out of the drawer and opened the bottle, then poured us each a glass.

“Probably should make a toast,” I said. “Here’s to you and your lovely home.”

“Not for long,” she said and a tear ran down her cheek which she didn’t bother to brush away.

“Hang on, you better take a stool at the counter.”

She gave me another strange look.

“Sit down, I’ll be back in flash,” I said and went into the dining room. I came back carrying the wine box.

“Okay, while you were gone some things have happened,” I went on to tell her most of the tale. I glossed over pretty much everything with Fat Freddy, skipped the part about the assault on Dallas, I didn’t mention shooting the guy on her staircase or Bulldog breaking in. I did tell her about the secret panel in the cabinet.

“I think this is the reason Dermot was murdered, Casey,” I said, then opened the lid on the corrugated wine box to reveal the stacks of twenty dollar bills.

She looked back and forth a half dozen times between me and the currency. “What is this? Where did it come from?”

“It’s from some sort of drug caper a few years back, long before you guys bought the place, probably before you even met. It was hidden in the house and a not so nice guy got out of jail and thought he should have it.”

“Was he the one?”

“Yes.”

“Is he?”

“He won’t be a problem. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Including, having to leave. This should take care of that.”

“How much, my God, look at it all.”

“It’s close to five-hundred-grand. I had to use some of it over the course of, well business. Actually, not to rush, but I’ve been keeping this in a safety deposit box in the bank. I was thinking we’d put it back there for safe keeping and get you access to the box and then you’ll be more than covered.”

She gave me a questioning look. “You mean I can stay here, keep the house?”

“Yeah, I think Dermot would want that.”

She rushed off her stool and had her arms around me, crying harder than the two previous times. “Oh my God, Dev, you are such a wonderful man.”

“Casey, that’s something I don’t hear very often.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

It was on the
news a few days later. The police had received an anonymous tip about a body along the river. Foul play was suspected, but no further information was available.

Louie was celebrating a court case victory. We were eating cheeseburgers and drinking beer in the office passing the binoculars back and forth while the girls in the apartment across the way took turns standing in front of a window air conditioner. You could see their hair blowing in the blast of cold air.

“God, that is so great. Look at that, they must have that thing set at ‘Deep Freeze,’” Louie said.

“Yeah, nice. Hey, do you think it’s strange we’re celebrating your DUI victory by drinking beer?”

Louie lowered the binoculars and looked at me. “Don’t start going all sensitive and thoughtful on me. I like you better as a senseless idiot.”

“Just wondering is all.”

“Well, don’t,” he said and went back to leering.

My phone rang. “Haskell Investigations.”

“Dev.” It was Aaron LaZelle, I braced myself.

“Hi, Aaron, what’s up?”

“Thought you might be interested in this, you know the body that was found along the river the other day?”

“A body? Did someone drown?”

He paused for a moment, but didn’t comment, then said, “It was Lowell Bulski, the Bulldog.”

“Really.”

“You don’t sound too surprised.”

“That guy, not a nice man. You’ll have to rent the Twins stadium just to hold all the potential suspects.”

“There was something else.”

“Which is?” I waited for the boom to drop. Maybe someone saw us there or they found my finger prints or DNA or something.

“We ran ballistics on a weapon that was found with him. We got a match on a number of incidents. One of them was Dermot Gallagher’s murder.”

“In a way I’m not surprised. Once I found out he owned that house it was almost like the Devil lived there and there was going to be evil happening.”

“Was your pal dealing with that crowd?”

“Dermot? No, he was straight as an arrow, a good guy. Maybe Bulldog just wanted the house back or something.”

“Umm-hmm,” Aaron said, but sounded like he really didn’t believe me.

“Any idea what happened to Bulldog?” I asked then held my breath.

“Yeah, someone killed him. Guys like him, we sort of look up and down the street, don’t see any likely suspects and its pretty much case closed.”

“No loss to the quality of life in town,” I said.

“Yeah, he was damaged goods, speaking of which, another friend of yours seems to have moved up in the world.”

“Who’s that?”

“Freddy Zimmerman, Fat Freddy, rumor is he’s taken over Bulldog’s spot.”

“As enforcer for Tubby?”

“That’s what we’re hearing?”

“Good luck. It’ll be interesting to see how that works.”

“Just thought you’d like to know. We released Bulldog’s name to the press earlier this afternoon.”

“Appreciate the call, Aaron.”

“My pleasure and it’s your turn to buy dinner next,” he said then hung up.

“You need to go down to the station with legal representation?” Louie said as he opened another beer.

“No, just a heads up, it’ll be on the news tonight. That body they found along the river the other day, turned out to be Bulldog.”

“That jerk, God, good riddance. The city crime rate just dropped by about fifty percent,” Louie said then drained a third of his bottle.

We polished off the six-pack. Once the girls across the street got dressed, we lost interest and headed over to The Spot. My phone rang about an hour later. I’d switched her ring tone to a submarine alarm sounding. The thing went off; “Arooooga, arooooga, arooooga.” Louie and about a half dozen other folks in the bar looked at me strangely.

“Heidi?” I answered then held my breath and waited for the explosion.

“Dev, I would be
very grateful
and make it worth your while if you would come over right now, I just saw another mouse.”

The End

Thanks for taking the time to read
Bulldog
. If you enjoyed Dev’s adventure please tell 2-300 of your closest friends. Following is a list of all my works of genius, the Dev Haskell tales can be read in any order. I’m currently working on another top secret Dev Haskell tale due out in early 2015, look for it.

Baby Grand

Chow For Now

Slow, Slow, Quick, Quick

Merlot

Finders Keepers

End of the Line

The following titles comprise the Dev Haskell series;

Russian Roulette: Case 1

Mr. Swirlee: Case 2

(
originally released as Mr. Softee
)

Bite Me: Case 3

Bombshell: Case 4