“Hope you didn’t check in under ‘Kip Keller’,” said Charlene as she held the feet of the dead hitman and Kip held the upper body and they pushed him head first toward the open lid of the dumpster behind a darkened diner.
“Glad you didn’t check in under ‘Charlene Victor,’ Kip paused as the body fell over the lip and thudded into the dumpster, then continued saying, “but ‘Victor Charles’ won’t be that hard to figure out in an investigation looking for you. What did you do before…”
They both removed their gloves and put them into a paper bag, which Kip promptly used his lighter to engulf in flames and he watched until the bag and gloves became little more than a stain on the asphalt.
“Before what?” She asked as the flames died.
“What did you do for fun before this,” he said, as they walked back to his rental car.
“Lawyer,” she replied. “But you would know that if you’d been to any of the reunions.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. And I missed you. I expected you to be at each one, but you never showed.”
“Can’t exactly go and catch up everyone up about the wife, the kids, and the job, can I?” Kip pointed out.
“Fair enough,” she said. “But you could have called. I left messages with your mother. She’s still alive, right?”
“Yeah, last I heard she was with another bozo boyfriend living in North Carolina. Haven’t spoken in…a year?”
“You should check in on her now and again,” said Charlene.
“Done enough of that for three lifetimes,” said Kip. As they climbed into the car, he said
“We’ll go back to the hotel and you can clean out all those clippings you have of me on the walls. I’ll do my best to explain that a drunken guy shot down the door, but scrub up all the blood with this solution I have before I let them know. We’ll regroup at a new hotel I’ll check into later. Meet you at the Denny’s on Fourth Street at 6:00 a.m. Don’t check out. Just leave the card key on the room’s desk.”
“I have done this before, you know,” said Charlene.
“Sorry. It’s been a long night. Just want us to be on the same page,” said Kip.
“We are,” she said and touched his hand, resting on the shift console, gently.
They made eye contact.
“Thanks,” he said.
-----
Inside the Denny’s, Kip sat in a booth, his eyes shifting between the push open glass doors and his watch that read “6:07”. Finally, wearing a shoulder-length auburn wig under a ballcap with dark shades over eyes, Charlene entered and talked to the woman at the front. He could see by her pantomime that she was describing him and asking where he might be. He was thankful that she hadn’t motioned his height and guessed she was either tactful or maybe she’d ceased to notice with his new-found stiletto tallness that really just made him seem average for a male, or so he hoped. Kip could never be for certain if 5’8” was seen as average by people or 5’10” or six foot. He just didn’t want to be looked “down upon” literally or figuratively.
Charlene made her way to his booth and slid in.
“Thought you’d never…” Kip started to say.
“Yeah, well, I had to wait around to return my rental car so it didn’t look like I’d skipped out of my hotel in the middle of the night for no reason.”
“Oh hell, we wouldn’t want the hotel having a bad impression of your nightly escapades,” said Kip with a wink.
“Doesn’t matter. We’ve got to figure this out fast. Who’s trying to kill you?”
“What did the guy sound like who tried to hire you to off me?” asked Kip.
“Booming voice. Very in love with it and his wit. Sounded like that ‘In a World’ cheeseball from the movie trailers.”
They both had a chuckle at the analogy.
Charlene continued. “Anyways, said you weren’t very good at your job, but that was it.”
“So, maybe I didn’t kill a guy he wanted me to. That’s about half of all the jobs I was hired to do. But most of them thank me for not going through with it. And the rest of them I return their money because it goes haywire. They can hire someone else if they still want to.”
“He said, ‘Your job’, Kip. Maybe he means your other job,” she said.
“Oh, protection. My security business? Maybe. But I’m really good at…”
“What about L.A.?”
“Well yes, the party was botched, thanks to someone,” Kip said, twisting his mouth at her.
“I’m sorry about that, but maybe that’s why they tried to hire me. They knew.”
“Who at the party would know?” Kip asked, taking a sip of his coffee just as the waitress came over.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” The waitress asked.
“Same as him, but regular,” said Charlene.
“Okie dokie,” said the waitress, topping off Kip’s coffee with the orange-handled pot of decaf.
Just as she left, Charlene said, “You drink decaf?”
“Helps with the shakes,” he said, holding out his hand in a steady fashion to demonstrate.
“Oh. Makes sense.” Charlene finally removed her sunglasses, revealing puffy dark circles from last night’s bender. Kip’s face reacted from the shock of the eyes and she said, “That bad, huh?”
“We did tie one on,” he said. “Back to the party. Why would they wait five years to come after me for not effectively protecting the kid or his friend?”
“‘Not effectively protecting?’ They’re dead.”
“Thanks to you,” he said. “They would have been fine…”
“Yeah, well, if whoever’s after you is after you over the party, they don’t care who kept you from your job, just that you didn’t do it properly,” said Charlene.
“True,” he said, just as the waitress returned with the black-handled regular coffee and turned over a mug and filled it in front of Charlene.
“Can I get you two anything to eat?” the waitress asked politely.
“Stack of pancakes,” said Kip, looking at the waitress, not at the menu.
“Short or tall,” said the waitress, not knowing this was a sore spot.
“Tall,” said Kip. “Tallest you’ve got.”
The waitress laughed. “Sure thing, sweetie. And for you?” She looked to Charlene.
“Two eggs poached,” she said.
The waitress took their menus, still on the table, and left.
“So, let’s say it was someone from the party. And I failed at my job as you’ve pointed out so well. Some guy with a booming voice wants me dead. Is it the father of one of the kids who died? The father of the kid I was hired to protect was kinda nebbish. Maybe it’s a friend of the family?”
“We’re not going to figure it out here. We’ve got to lure him out or we’re never going to know who he’s sending next or why,” said Charlene, taking a sip of her coffee.
“Yeah, and, assuming we’re successful in surviving, there’s going to be a whole lot of bodies piling up before we figure it out,” said Kip. “And I don’t want a repeat of this morning.”
“Disposing of bodies sucks,” she said.
“I got us a new hotel room outside of O’Malley’s neighborhood this time,” said Kip.
“Good. I don’t think he’s involved in this anyways,” she said.
“Hope not,” said Kip, somberly. “But what if he knows I was around when his nephew went floating in the river. I mean, you figured it out.”
“I doubt it. I know what name you used to sign into the hotel and those credit cards you used, but only because I knew what you’d use from your adolescent days.”
“And what was that?” asked Kip.
“Steven Tyler,” Charlene said with a giggle snort. “C’mon, the singer of Aerosmith. So obvious.”
“Maybe to you,” he said. “It’s a pretty ordinary name otherwise.”
“That’s fair. It also didn’t sound like Vin’s voice and he knows me. I don’t see why he would try to disguise his voice because he doesn’t know you and I have a history.”
“Let’s not count on that,” he said. “Anyone could have figured it out. Your buddy Haru could have.”
“Haru wouldn’t have told Vin that just to get my old best friend killed. I never told Haru anything about my past other than my mother’s death.”
“He could do research too, though,” said Kip.
“Okay, but we don’t know for sure yet,” said Charlene, as if defending her sword master.
“We need a plan,” Kip said, taking a slurp of his coffee.
Charlene took a sip of hers. “I say we bring Haru in on it.”
“What? To see if he’s part of it?” Kip was somewhere between incredulous and insulted.
“No. Because he’d know about Righteous Killers. He’s got a tap on the grapevine. He always has.”
“Then he does know,” said Kip.
“Don’t say it like that,” said Charlene, somewhat offended.
“I’m sorry I don’t have a trusted mentor like you who is also a hitman, but I don’t trust him right now. I don’t trust anyone.”
“Understandable. Someone just tried to kill you. Has that never happened before?” asked Charlene, slightly amused.
“Actually, no. No, it hasn’t. Not until I met you again.”
“So, this is my fault,” she said flatly.
“If it’s someone from the party, yeah, it kinda is,” said Kip.
“Wait a second…” Charlene started just as their food order arrived.
The waitress set the pancakes in front of Kip and said, “Tallest stack for the gentleman” and then set the poached eggs in bowl on the plate in front of Charlene, “And the poached for the lady. Anything else for now?”
“No, that’s fine,” said Kip. “Thank you.”
Both Kip and Charlene smiled at the waitress in a pained saccharinely toothy grin and she returned the smile, figuring they’d just been arguing, faced away and left, believing her tip might be going down the drain just due to their current disposition.
“You’re going to blame me and I’m trying to help by…” Charlene started to say.
“By bringing another killer into the narrative,” Kip said finishing her sentence.
“By finding out who’s trying to kill you, friend or foe, neither of which is Haru.”
“Okay, okay. I guess I…I don’t know either.”
“Well if you have a better plan,” said Charlene.
“No, at this point, I don’t,” said Kip. “But I’m starving.” He stared at the stack of five large pancakes and fished in the ramekin for a pad or two of butter the waitress had left. “We’ll decide how to…after.”
Charlene met his eyes and smiled for a brief moment before salting her eggs. They were agreed. They would contact Haru.
