Silver Lining - A Carpelli Adventure: Sequel To The Bestselling Thriller Fatal Mistake (19 page)

He took a moment and closed his eyes. Then a moment later he smiled and opened them.

“Rest easy, John. Everyone is time. There is a shadow lurking out of their range of perception, but it isn’t…,” the Oracle stopped talking and his eyes began darting back and forth rapidly.

“Hold on, John.” The Oracle stated and grabbed his phone. He hit a speed dial number and shouted into the phone. “Curtis, immediate support is required for Eric at the Turkey Creek Mall. Go now, right now, take the two armored vans.”

“What the hell?” I yelled and charged the Oracle. A huge mountain of a man suddenly stepped between us and held me back with one arm.

“Easy John. Help is on the way. The attack won’t come for another half hour. By then the vans will be there and the attack will not happen.” The Oracle seemed to be certain of the facts.

“I need something more.” I stated curtly.

“Like what?” The Oracle replied.

“I need a car.”

“What is wrong with your car?”

“My car? I haven’t a clue as to where it is, plus the last time I saw it, wasn’t exactly in drivable condition.”

“Perhaps you should look again.” The Oracle smiled and pointed towards the door on the side of his office. It was a door, I had never been through. I walked over and opened the door. It led to a balcony that over looked a parking lot that was completely within the building. There on the corner nearest the steps was a car that looked just like my ’67 Chevy Impala, sort of. All the bullet holes were gone. The windows had been replaced and the paint was now a fire engine red. My old car had been restored after I bought it, but it wasn’t of show quality as this new Chevell appeared to be.

“How did you get it repaired so quickly?” I asked.

“It was fairly easy. The tough part was getting the engine parts replaced. It was miracle that it ran as far as it did.” The Oracle shared.

“So where are the keys?” I asked.

“You’ll find them in the ignition. Your taser is under the front driver’s seat. Your forty caliber is in the glove box with two boxes of ammo and the metal baton is in the door pocket.” The Oracle shared.

“Sounds like I’m ready to go. If you don’t hear from me for the next couple days, don’t worry but if you happen to get that feeling that I’m in trouble, be sure to send Mr. Eric and his crew.” I told the Oracle as I stepped through the door and climbed down the stairs to the parking lot.

The car was incredible. It was similar to my old Chevy, but it was definitely not my old car. It handled a whole lot smoother. The interior was all leather trim and seats with chrome accents, whereas in my old car the seats were cloth. But the biggest difference was with the engine. My old car had plenty of power, but this one was roaring to go the moment you turned the key. The car itself was heavier, you could just feel it. The steering wasn’t spongy or loose, but it was very evident that the car weighed more than the factory spec’d model. I drove the freeways around town for a while to get a good feel for the beast and then I got to work.

I had only one place to go, now that the Oracle had Betty protected. I had to find Michael Nolan and then facilitate his demise. I started my search downtown at Nolan’s office, but the parking lot was empty. It was only three in the afternoon, obviously Nolan had a pressing engagement. Which led me to Turkey Creek, the last place the Diablo’s had been seen, in the Oracles mind at least, staging to attack Betty. I drove around the mall several times hoping to draw a little attention, but other than looks of envy from several older men clearly admiring the car, no one seemed to care. 

From Turkey Creek, I drove by my apartment. From the street I could see the front door had been kicked in and a single line of crime scene tape, ran from the top inside corner down to the bottom outside corner. I almost stopped, but I had noticed as I turned onto the block, there was a Ford Crown Vic parked at each end of the block. Off hand, I would have written it off as the FBI watching my place, they always used these big boats to get around in. Under other circumstances they might have been here staking out my apartment, in the hope I’d turn up and they could grab me. Except, we’d had a meeting yesterday to go over the final testimony for the trial next week. So I thought about who else could be watching for me. I quickly decided it could be only one of three groups. The Diablo’s, the Blount County sheriff’s Department, friends of Kelly and Washington, or hired muscle for Anthony Conners.

I continued down the street, making sure I didn’t alter my speed, for I didn’t want to draw any attention from the watchers. As I drove past the second car at the far end of the block, I was able to get a good look at the driver and decided I needed to relax a bit. First of all, the only people in town who knew my real name were, the Oracle, Betty and Mrs. Carmel. The Oracle wasn’t talking and neither was Betty. That left Mrs. Carmel, but the guy behind the wheel didn’t exactly fit the mobs hired muscle profile. The mob liked clean cut, former cops or military. They wanted people who could go anywhere and not draw too much attention to themselves. The driver had a long gray beard and hair to match, so much for blending in. They were Diablo’s. 

I continued on past the Crown Vic to the stop sign and did a quick rolling stop. As I started across the street a third car, another Crown Vic appeared in my peripheral vision to the driver’s side. It was racing towards me. I gunned the Chevy and it leapt forward saving me from being t-boned by the charging Crown Vic, but that didn’t stop the other Crown Vic pulling away from the curb from slamming into the third Crown Vic and taking them both out of the chase. By the end of the next block, I had the Chevy going more than a hundred which left the last Crown Vic far behind and hopelessly unable to catch up. I knew if there were other Diablo’s around, the Fire Engine red car would stick out like the center circle on a Bulls Eye target. I turned right and kept the pedal mashed to the floor while I kept my eyes peeled for any additional players in the game. I wasn’t looking for a fight with Nolan’s boys, just where I could find Nolan.

I pulled into the Maryville Mall a few minutes later and took the chance to stop for a moment. I needed to get my gun out of the glove box, since I’d been foolish enough not to have pulled it out when I first got in the car. It was very clear to me, I was way out practice and I should spend the next couple of days getting my act together, rather risk Nolan turning the tables on me. The first thing I needed to do, was park the Chevy and see if the Oracle had a car that was just a bit less of an attention getter.

The next morning after having breakfast with Betty and hearing all about her shopping trip turned rescue mission, I once again went looking for Nolan. Again, I started at his office and to my surprise, his car was there. The drawback to his car being here was there wasn’t another parking lot with easy access or in a position where I could watch Nolan’s car from. It was the only lot within two blocks. So I parked at one of the other lots and went to my plan “B”. I put a GPS on his car, which allowed me to keep track of it up to two miles away. What it didn’t allow, was any way of knowing who was driving the car.

I already knew where Nolan worked, the make and model of car he drove, where he lived, who he lived with, what his hobbies were, golf, motorcycles and women. Plus, I knew what make and model of motorcycle he rode. This last couple of days would be just to verify what I thought I knew. Plus to decide where to confront him, the final time.

I spent the next two days following Nolan everywhere. I drove a ten year old GMC Yukon that was forest green in color with heavily tinted windows. The Oracle had its engine super charged and some lead weights added to the rear end to provide greater cornering without the fear of rolling over. The combination of the two improvements made the vehicle handle more like a sports car, than an SUV.

Nolan was a very popular and busy man. He was rarely alone except while at home sleeping since his girlfriend, had a bedroom all to herself, although right next to his. On the third night, Nolan had a few dozen friends over from the Diablo’s to watch a pay per view boxing match on HBO. The group had gathered in the game room of Nolan’s hilltop mansion overlooking the Tennessee River, just west of downtown Knoxville. Nolan’s home was more of a gated compound than anything else. So I chose to climb around the gate and walk up to the mansion to avoid setting off any alarms by trying to access the gate. When I reached the parking area in front of the mansion, I decided to take a few minutes and insure there wouldn’t be too many armed pursuers when I left there in a few minutes. I pulled the value stems from the front two tires on the couple of pickup trucks there and the value stems from all front tires on the motorcycles. The two dozen stems I tossed into landscaping.

I found my way into the mansion through the rear kitchen door which led to a stunning patio overlooking the Tennessee River and Knoxville itself. I hid out in what was probably the guest bedroom, though there wasn’t a stick of furniture. Nolan’s biker buddies all used the half bath off the kitchen, but when he needed to relieve himself, he came to the guest bedroom in which I was hiding and used the attached full bath. Apparently, he didn’t like sharing the bathroom with his barely housebroke Diablo’s gang members. Remembering the state of restroom at the Wild Rose, was more than enough justification in my book. Lucky for me, there was also a closet in the guest bedroom that was totally empty. I hid in the closet, while he did his business and then held my breath until he left the bedroom. Damn, I needed to get my shit together and fast.

Nolan went back to his guests just in time to see the end of the fight. It was, only the fourth round when the defending champ landed a solid left hook to the contender’s glass jaw, ending the boxing party. Nolan, being the ever gracious host, suggested they play some poker, since the boxing match was such a waste of time and money. That was at about eleven o’clock and it wasn’t until after one a.m. that Nolan took his second potty break. This time, I was ready.

The bathroom in the guest bedroom was inside the guest bedroom and next to the closet. I waited in the closet for him to come out and as he stepped clear of the bathroom door, I tasered him. Thank God for the carpeted floor and the room being empty of furniture. Nolan dropped with a solid thud, when I released the taser trigger. Then he flopped about for several seconds until I was able to taser him a second time. When I let go of the trigger this time, all he could do was lay there twitching and jerking. I hoped the flopping hadn’t caught anyone’s attention. But it had. One of the gang members had started towards the short hallway that led to my hiding place. As he was about to make his move, I heard someone intercept him.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” I heard one male voice say.

“Oh why’s that? I thought I heard something.” A different male replied.

“So what if you did? If the boss wants our help, he’ll definitely let us know. If you leave the designated area and he wasn’t wanting your help. You’ll regret having bothered him.”

“What’s the deal? What if he needs help?” The second man asked.

“Look, your fairly new, so I feel I have to tell you this, but I’m only going to tell you this once, so listen up. Mr. Nolan doesn’t like people wandering around his home. He has other business going on in other parts of the house and if you’re wandering around, he’s going to assume you’re a spy for someone. That’s why we had to use the side door through the kitchen to enter. That is also why, we only use the game room, the kitchen and the half bath here in the hall next to the kitchen. If you want to go looking around, you can do so, but you’re taking your life in your hands. Cause if he catches you, the least punishment you’ll receive is a pretty severe beating or he just may kill you, if he’s had a back day.” The one biker explained to the other apparently new member, then walked back to the poker table.

“Well, since you put it that way. I guess I’ll stay right here.” The man stated and went back to playing poker with the rest of the Diablo’s. I sighed in relief and squatted down next to Nolan. I tasered him just a little, to insure he wasn’t going to suddenly reach out and grab me. I quit when his eyes rolled back and his tongue stuck straight out. I had to wait a couple of minutes for Nolan to regain enough of his faculties, he could see and hear what was happening around him but was still unable to do anything about it.

“Well, if it isn’t Mikey Nolan.” I teased Nolan as he lay there unable to do anything about it. “Remember me? From the restaurant?” Nolan’s eyes were wide with anger. “You tried to beat me to death in the restroom. Apparently, in all the confusion you didn’t hear me tell you to stop trying to kill me, or I’d be back and I would kill you. Too bad, ‘cause I’m back!” I tasered him again for the hell of it. Once more his eyes rolled back in his head and his whole body began twitching and jerking. I had to wait once more for the effects to wear off some, before I could be sure he was hearing me. As soon as his eyes registered he was comprehending what I was saying, I started in teasing him again.

“Apparently, you have an issue with taking directions. Or maybe, you just couldn’t bring yourself to believe, you got your ass kicked. Either way, I find it hard to believe, a big time attorney like you, isn’t smart enough to save his own life. Is that a southern thing?” I asked, but Nolan just laid there. He eyes locked on me and glaring, clearly pissed off, as if maybe I’d tasered him or something.

“I told you, I’d be back if you ever bothered me or someone I cared about.” I said in a soft even tone. “I also told you, you wouldn’t be able to call on your biker buddies to save your ass. It’s odd don’t you think, there are fourteen bikers in your game room not forty feet away and not one of them will be making any effort to save you. Why? It’s simple. You’re a huge arrogant asshole who thinks he’s too good for the mere mortals that grovel at your rich ass feet. You are so arrogant you made the majority of your home off limits to your supposedly closest friends. In a way, you’ve chose the best place for me to fulfill my promise to you.” I grinned at him and he growled back at me. I tased him again.