The Improbable (9 page)

July 1950

T
he
host’s voice streamed through the radio on my desk in the office. I had tuned in
so I could stay awake but shut it off, not wanting to hear about anything they
were talking about. I was trying to concentrate but it was difficult to do so
with the gabbing of the radio and the unbearable heat in the station due to the
broken ceiling fans. I had set a fan on my desk, opened the window, and
unbuttoned my shirt a bit and nothing seemed to cool me down!

           
I set down the files I had been going through and started on the photographs my
father had set on my desk in the morning. Sighing from exhaustion, I opened the
first few folders. The photos were about a year old; they displayed victims
who’d been shot right in the head as well as the bodies of those who had died
from overdose with their eyes closed. I pulled the more recent photos of the
bodies that had been discovered and laid them next to the older ones. I was
trying to understand why the older ones had been shot in the head while the
recent victims had been shot in the throat. I was also trying to figure out why
the older bodies had died with closed eyes and the newer ones died with
seemingly scared, open eyes.

           
Clayton broke my focus when he knocked at the open door and strolled in. “How
you
enjoyin
’ this
lil
’
taste of southern heat, boy?”

           
I shrugged. “Feels like hell.”

           
He set down a mug full of ice water. “Only way to beat it.” He said when I
looked up at him.

           
I immediately began gulping down the ice cold water, thankful for the ice cold
sensation it sent throughout my body. I thought about thanking Clayton but
wasn’t too sure how I felt about him and all his acts of southern hospitality.
I cleared my throat, “Uh, what’s going on?”

           
Clayton partially sat on my desk and crossed his arms while he explained. “So
I’m
thinkin
’ I’m on to
somethin
’,”
he began. “Upon
reviewin
’ the profiles of our lovely
buyers, it’s plain to see that the ages range from twenty-one to thirty.”

           
I nodded. “Right in my ball park.”

           
“Mhm, and that’s not all you have in common with these kids’ they’re all trust
fund babies.” He noted.

           
“It’s inheritance, Clayton.” I said firmly.

           
He held his hands up defensively. “The point is y’all are still made of money.”

           
I glared at him. “What’re you getting at?”

           
“You
gotta
get in with them! It’ll be easier for you
to maneuver your way into figuring out how they get stuff done. These wealthy
youngsters are
fueling
the Trio economy!” He said excitedly.

           
I rubbed my bottom lip as I pondered the information he gave me. “Good point.
My guy Timmy knows someone who’s into that stuff.”

           
Clayton clapped once. “Well, alright.” He glanced down at the photos spread out
on my desk. “What
ya
got here?”

           
It was my turn to relay some information. I pointed at the first set of photos.
“So my father gave me these photographs earlier, said they were from last year,
the ones beside them are more recent.”

           
He examined them, rubbing his chin. “What do you have them side by side like
that for?”

           
“Well I found it odd that just a year ago the fuckers were shooting them in the
head and now in the throat.” I said.

           
Clayton’s eyebrows came together as he tried to make something of the
information. “You could look some more into that, I suppose.”

           
I nodded and took a cool, refreshing gulp of the ice water. “That I will.” My
office phone rang. “David O’Neil,” I answered.

           
“Get your suit and tie, brother, we’re
goin
’ out!”
Timmy’s voice came from the other line.

           
My hands came over my face; I truly wasn’t up for getting all spiffy…or even
being around people for that matter. Not to mention the last party I’d gone to
I’d been arrested for saving a life. All I wanted to do was solve the damn case
so I could show my father I wouldn’t let him down. Then it clicked in my mind!
“As much as I don’t want to, I will.” I answered.

           
“Perfect! We’ll be at your house tomorrow at eight.” Timmy informed me.

           
I shook my head. “You’ve got it.”

           
“Alright, see you then, Chief!” Timmy sounded satisfied.

           
“What did I tell you about that?” I growled.

           
“Oops, I mean see you then…you little lawyer you.” He snickered. “No one’s
around anyways.”

           
I chuckled, “Better safe than sorry, see you tomorrow.”

           
“What’s that all about?” Clayton asked, nosily.

           
“I just made the first move into this case.” I responded. “Tomorrow I’ll be at
a lavish event with some of the wealthiest families in Chicago. I’m bound to
make some connections to get to the drug
and
I have a definite
connection already.”

           
Clayton’s eyes widened. “Alright! This is good, I don’t know why I ever doubted
you.” He winked and turned on his heel to leave my office.

           
I rolled my eyes, already knowing he never had a reason to doubt me. Though I
was glad I was able to show him that I could establish moves in the case
without having to be told to do so, thinking maybe he’d go and tell my father
about my progress. I leaned back with my hands over my head, and sighed. My
eyes grazed across my desk and landed on an old photo of my mother and myself
as a child and a minor pang of sadness tugged at my heart.

After she
died, nothing was the same between my father and I; it was always so hard to
keep him happy unless I was achieving a goal that he had set for me.
Essentially I could say that I was putting my heart and soul in the case to
catch a glimpse of the warmth and love from my father that I received prior to
the death of my mother. Was it so much to ask? Was solving the case even going
to make things better between us?

“Hey! Mr.
Lawyer, open up!” Timmy’s voice boomed from outside as he banged on my front
door.

           
I had been in the bathroom, trying to practice facial expressions that
didn’t
make me look like I always wanted to murder someone. How was I going to make
connections with anyone when my face always looked so angry? I raced to open
the door, stubbing my toe on a few boxes I hadn’t yet unpacked. They always got
me! “Shit!” I shouted before opening the door.

           
“What the hell is going on in here?” Timmy looked around with wide eyes before
stepping in the house.

           
“Got a few boxes I still haven’t put up.” I answered, shoving the box out of
the way with my foot.

           
“A few…? It looks like you just moved in yesterday, boss!” Timmy laughed. “Hey
Chris, you think you could manage to help chief with a few boxes real quick?
Make somewhat of a path through this guy’s house? Sheesh.” Timmy yelled to
Chris who was hopping out the car.

           
“Of course! Chief, my man!” Chris yelled walking up the driveway, looking a bit
out of it.

           
“Are you alright, man?” I asked as he stumbled into my house.

           
“
A-ok
.” He grinned and picked up the two boxes.

           
“Just pull down the staircase in the garage and stick them up in the attic.” I
opened the door to the garage for him.

           
“Gotcha,” He burst out laughing.

           
“Chris, what the fuck is so funny?” I asked, irritated.

           
He shook his head, still snickering, and headed into the garage.

           
“That’s right brother, I like this all black. Hit the ladies like a phantom!”
Timmy assessed my suit once I came back to the bathroom to shave.

           
I chuckled. “I try, I try.”

           
“So you excited or what? I have a feeling you might get lucky tonight.” Timmy
slapped my leg with a rolled up newspaper.

           
“Women aren’t at the top of my to-do list at the moment Timmy,” I sighed. “This
is an important case, I can’t afford to give my attention to much of anything
else at the moment.”

           
“Well good thing this party has nothing to do with the case! Come on, you just
need one night, one girl to get your mind off the stuff at the station, it’s
consuming you!” Timmy exclaimed. “Just let this be a night where you…
ya
know, let go. Think about all the ladies that will be
there, eager beavers to be pleasers if you know what I mean.” He looked at me
suggestively.

           
I snickered and shoved him, glad I could always count on him to make me laugh.
He may have been right about my being consumed with the case, but to get my
mind off of it I would have rather just spent time with them and not pretending
to be interested in some dumb broad that’d do anything for me just because she
knew I had money. I did feel like my life needed a little pizazz but I just
couldn’t afford to take too much time off focusing on work, not to mention I
would need something to report back to Clayton.

“As
much as I would love to, I can’t! And the party has everything to do with the
case.” I said.

           
“How so, brother?” Timmy asked. “But I must say, whatever you say right now I
won’t take serious. I can’t take you serious with shaving cream all on your
face brother.” He chuckled and shook his head.

           
I rolled my eyes. “Anyways, I’m
gonna
finally talk to
that Brandy kid tonight and see if he can get me anywhere. We also figured that
the crowd that uses Trio is young and wealthy.”

           
“Like the members at the City Club.” Timmy nodded.

           
“Exactly,” I mumbled as I washed my face off.

           
“Well I could definitely help you out as I told you before. It’s not for me,
but I know where to look.” He said.

           
“I’m not looking to get into anything too deep tonight, I just wanna establish
something with Brandy.” I told him as I patted my face dry.

           
“You got it boss, whatever it takes to get you one hundred percent back here
with us.” Timmy sighed, looking at me wearily.

           
I knew he was hinting at how he, Chris, and I used to have wild nights as
teenagers, carefree and far more relaxed. I nodded at him in the mirror, not wanting
to bring up the better days.

           
He held out my bowtie in his hand. “Finishing touch and we’re out.” His voice
was quieter, more serious.

           
I fastened my bowtie around my neck and slicked my hair back, making any last
adjustments before we exited the house. “Chris we’re leaving!” I shouted when I
saw no sight of him in the house as I made my way to the front door.

           
When we were outside, Timmy whirled around and caught sight of Chris on the
roof. “Oh, what the fuck brother!”

           
“How in the hell did you get up there?” I demanded.

           
“He’s a little high, but you know you’re the lawyer now not the chief so don’t
say anything.” Timmy admitted, laughing nervously.

           
“High on
what
?” I asked, outraged. “High enough to get onto my roof!”

           
“Just a little reefer, relax. No Trio around these parts, I told you we don’t
do that.” Timmy held his hands up defensively.

           
“Drug use nonetheless!” I exclaimed.

           
“Chris, come on down from there it’s time to go!” Timmy ignored me.

           
“You didn’t know there’s a door to the roof in your attic? Man, there’s an
amazing view from here!” Chris hollered, looking up at the evening sky.

           
“Come on Chris, we have to be there in fifteen minutes.” I ignored his
question.

           
“I can see Eva’s house through the trees! Hi Eva!” Chris turned around and
waved.

           
I looked at Timmy with furrowed eyebrows. “Eva?”

           
He smiled and nodded. “She lives past the woods right behind you, we’ll pass it
on the way out big guy.”

           
“I bet if you look close you’ll be able to see her changing at night.” Chris
snickered.

           
“Alright, get down or we’re leaving your ass!” I yelled to him as I hopped in
the car.

           
“Oh you guys are no fun,” Chris pouted as he made his way down from the roof
back into the attic.

           
“And we’re out boys!” Timmy hollered once we were all in my car.