Page 1 of On the Run




  On the Run

  Glenn Gamble

  Chicago, Illinois, USA

  © 2011 Glenn Gamble

  www.GlennGamble.com

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  On the Run © 2011 by Glenn Gamble

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Glenn Gamble.

  Bon Appétit

  Escape

  On the Run

  James

  A Thousand Chances

  1001: Car Wash

  Chapter 1

  “It’s done,” Bones said

  “That’ll show that motherfucker for fucking with me,” Jim said.

  The two men shook hands, switched vehicles and drove out of the gas station in opposite directions. Bones rode off with several thousand dollars for the delivery, and Jim rode off with satisfaction with the job and a trunk full of gifts. It had been 13 months since Jim and Carla narrowly escaped a shootout with his former best friend Steve. Jim and Carla left town and seemingly fell off the face of the earth. Steve hadn’t heard from Jim and no games had been run in Jim’s territories ever since he was run out of town, so Steve set up shop in Jim’s old locations a month later –not smart.

  ###

  Jim still had good rapport with Frank who served as his eyes and ears for his business dealings in Chicago. On the other hand, since he snitched on Jim and Carla the day of their moving out, Frank was a trusted ally of Steve’s who would work for him and help run his home games. Initially, Frank wanted nothing more than to lodge a bullet into Steve’s skull, but decided he would brief Jim before taking any action. Frank flew to Memphis and met with Jim at a casino buffet in Tunica, Mississippi.

  Before sitting down to discuss business, Jim’s bumbling right-hand person filled eight plates with seafood, steak, chicken, turkey, mashed potatoes, cole slaw, ribs, cornbread and dessert. In contrast to his oafish demeanor, Frank gracefully balanced each plate on his shoulders, forearms and in both hands. Once he settled at his table, the slaughter began. He picked up his 16 oz. rib-eye steak and stuffed as much in his mouth as he could chew until the poor cow disappeared. Steak sauce seeped from the crack of his mouth on both sides as the sauce ran past his first chin and down his second chin onto his tightly buttoned shirt-collar. He continued his onslaught as he polished off one plate after another with the utensils being more of an option to him. Jim walked in, prepared his plate, and followed the sound of Frank’s disgusting food munching noises to find him.

  “You waste no time in getting the party started,” Jim said.

  “Hey fella,” Frank said, offering his right hand.

  “How’s the lobster?” Jim asked.

  Frank snatched his hand back and grabbed one of five lobster tails.

  “The best,” Frank shouted. “They still have plenty. You should get one, Jim.”

  “I think I will,” Jim said. “Now talk to me.”

  “Ya know, Steve must got balls da size of watermelons.”

  And you must have the appetite the size of three elephants.

  “He got a lotta fuckin’ nerve to barrel in my house while my family’s sleeping telling me he’s got a proposition. I gotta fucking proposition for his fucking head,” Frank yelled. “I started to split the fucker’s melon, but I remember you telling me not to harm him until you get situated.”

  “Okay.”

  “Steve sits down on my leather sofa and tells me that he’s taking over your shacks to run business. Frank, I want you to be my partner. You haven’t been gone two months and he wants me to be an accomplice in stealing your money.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Jim said. “Please continue.”

  “I didn’t know what I should do, so I told him that I needed a little time to get things in place,” Frank said. “He got angry and started ranting about needing me to start tomorrow, but I bought a little time by convincing him that I needed to get some men in place so the game will run smoothly. That’s why I wanted to talk to you on such short notice.”

  “What, to get men in place for Steve?” Jim snapped.

  “No, to let you know what’s going on in Chicago,” Frank said. “Why ya busting my balls, Jim?”

  “Should I?”

  “Jim, what the fuck,” Frank shouted. “I fly down here to let you know what’s going on and you’re busting my balls like a mistress I knocked up. What’s the matter with you?”

  “Frankie, I like you, but I’ll fucking kill you if I find out you let Steve know where I am,” Jim threatened.

  “Jimmy, you’re dead as far as everyone in Chicago is concerned.”

  “Is that what they think?”

  “They haven’t seen you in almost a month and everyone’s nuts right now. Ain’t nothing coming in and everyone wants a piece of your pie.”

  “I bet it’s a jungle on the south side.” Jim took a sip of his Crown and coke. “It was already getting bad when HUD and CHA let all these animals out the projects. Now you have to contend with a bunch of 2-bit opportunists as well.”

  “Everyone’s money running low, Jim. Why ya think Steve’s so anxious? He’s even telling people that you’re dead.”

  “Because he needs money and is pretty much the only one who’s strong enough and knowledgeable enough to take my place in the business,” Jim said. “But he’s also smart enough to realize that he’s the muscle and that he needs some brains to make it work. That’s where you come in.”

  “I guess.”

  “Okay, this is what you need to do,” Jim instructed. “Accept whatever split on the action Steve gives you. You keep 100% on the take in my south side properties, but I need you to call up all my high-end clients and have them move their action to the north and west burbs. Find out who their favorite dealers and runners are, and give them a pay raise to work the burbs.”

  “I don’t understand. Why you wanna move them to the burbs?”

  “For a few reasons: one, my high-end clients are professionals who never liked to drive 40 miles to a game, but did so anyway because of me and two, none of them like Steve and will run like hell when they find out he’s running the game in the city,” Jim said. “Steve’s game is going to be seedy and while it will turn a profit, you and I both need something to fall back on when his game gets busted.”

  “Are you saying that he’s going to get busted?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Jim winked. “And when he gets busted, I don’t want you to have a lot of money on you. Because it will be seized. I’ll give you more details when I’m ready to move. Right now, I want Steve to get comfortable. Let him continue to tell people that I’m dead. It’s better that way, for I can come back to life in silence.”

  “Got it.”

  “One more thing, Frank.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I want 25% of the action of the table games in the burbs.”

  “So I get 75?” Frank asked.

  “If my math is correct, yes.”

  “Jim, you don’t have to give up that much. We can go 50-50.”

  “I’d rather be a silent partner who provides support in exchange for a commission,” Jim said. “Think of it as me giving you a franchise and you actually operating the business on far better terms. Besides, I’m still getting 90% on the shylocking.”

  Frank extended his grease-drenched hand to Jim to shake on the deal.

  “Uh Frank…” Jim hesitated.
>
  “Oh, I need to get one of those moist-towelette thingies,” Frank said as he snatched his hand back.

  “And some napkins,” Jim said.

  “Ha ha, I guess I would need those things since my hands would still be wet.”

  “By the way, Steve doesn’t know about my properties in the burbs. Keep it that way,” Jim said, looking Frank in the eyes. “When you move the game out to the burbs, tell my high end clients that there’s a better game than mine in the suburbs. They’ll fucking love it.”

  “What about the police out there?”

  “You’re going to love this,” Jim said. “I got two police chiefs on my list of high-end clients.”

  “One is the chief of police in the west suburban location, and the other is the chief of police in the north suburban location, right?” Frank asked.

  “Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “Jim, I think I’m going to bust one.”

  “Ha, ha, I knew you’d love it.”

  ###

  One year after that meeting with Frank, Jim ordered Frank to have the police bust Steve’s game. Frank had a better idea. Bones dispatched dozens of police officers to raid Steve’s five gambling houses while he was out of town vacationing with Jessica. They found stolen weapons –many of them uncrated, cash, and computer print outs of sports bets that were placed and loans that were made. As Jim suspected, Steve ran a sloppy operation that produced a paper trail long enough to put him in prison for several years. Good thing the officers who raided the houses weren’t real police officers! They were only dressed as police officers. Bones even went as far as to “borrow” some squad cars to make those mass “arrests.” The phony police officers dropped the men off a few blocks away from the houses, told them that they were letting them off with a warning, and instructed the gamblers to walk to their cars and go home.

  The “officers” took everything that wasn’t nailed down to the floor. They even took the Pomeranians from their main location. That’s what upset Steve the most. He cried for 10 days after telling Jessica that their precious dogs were gone. This was Jim’s favorite part of the setup. Jim, Frank and Bones ripped Steve’s heart out by stealing the pets. They proceeded to mock him by having “Have you seen my pets” flyers with pictures of the dogs and a photoshopped image of Steve crying posted all over the south side of Chicago. Steve suspected Frank of being involved in the setup and raided his house only to find him and his family long gone, with Bones en route to Memphis, bearing gifts.

  Chapter 2

  “Frank, you’re gonna have to lay low for a while,” Jim spoke into his cell phone.

  “Yeah, I know,” Frank said. “I guess it wasn’t a good idea to change from your initial game plan of calling the police and giving them a phony drug tip to having my goons come in and shake the joints down.”

  “Steve wouldn’t have known that you were involved in this, but fuck it. What’s done is done,” Jim said. “Does Bones know about the suburban game houses?”

  “No.”

  “Keep it that way,” Jim warned. “I got a bad vibe about Bones.”

  “He’s all right.”

  “On the surface yes, but he shook my hand like a deceitful bitch,” Jim said.

  “Jim, it’s only a weak handshake.”

  “No, that man is a snake hiding in the grass. A man who is as intelligent and street savvy as he is would never shake my hand like that if he had any respect for me. Deal with him at arm’s length. That’s all I got to say right now. We’ll be in touch.”

  Click!

  Jim placed the phone in the breast pocket of his black leather jacket, placed a stick of watermelon-flavored Extra chewing gum in his mouth and slid out of the black two-door coupe; then he popped his trunk to look over the goodies. Dozens of guns lay strewn in the trunk next to the suitcase. I bet there’s some green candy in here. Frank knows I like green candy. He popped open the suitcase. Thousands of dollars from the heist and green apple Jolly Ranchers both soft and hard candy with a note. Jimmy, you’ve given me riches beyond my wildest dreams. Don’t spend it all in one place. Jim liked the personal gesture. He tucked the note away, grabbed his suitcase and locked the garage door, and walked in the house. Now he only needed to make one more phone call.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey you P.Y.T.”

  “Jim, how are you?”

  “Pretty good and you?”

  “I’m exhausted, but I’m making it.” Carla yawned.

  “Nursing’s tough no matter what setting you work.”

  Like this guy knows anything about nursing or even hard work for that matter. This year will probably be the first year that he’s had a W-2 form since… well, ever!

  “Tell me about it,” Carla said. “So what made you call?”

  “I can’t call to see how you’re doing once in a while?”

  “You usually don’t,” Carla said. “What makes this occasion any different?”

  “You came across my mind and I wanted to see how you’re doing.”

  “I guess you came across another loser chick for tonight’s date.”

  Is she on her cycle or something? She’s riding my ass like a rodeo and all I wanted to do was say hi. Okay Jim, calm down. Let’s see what this is all about.

  “No, it’s not that at all,” Jim said. “I… Oh forget it.”

  “I… what?”

  “I wanted to hear your voice ,” Jim mustered.

  Only if Jim could see Carla’s reaction. She smiled, blushed and wanted to be near him. How would he react if he could see her skin had turned strawberry red when he told her that he wanted to hear her voice. Instead, all he got in return was an extended silence that made him feel a bit uncomfortable.

  “I miss talking to you, Jim.”

  “I know you do,” Jim cracked.

  “Asshole.”

  “Come on, Carly, I’m just talking noise. I miss you too.”

  “Then how come you never call?”

  “You know I can’t always call because of Steve.”

  “Sure you can, Jimmy. It’s been a long time since we’ve been in Chicago.”

  “Yeah, but Chicago is only eight hours from here and Steve and his crew could be down here right now,” Jim said as he cleaned one of his new guns.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Carla blurted. “A lot has changed in a year.”

  Carla was right; a lot had changed in a year. She landed a job as one of the lead nurses for a mobile healthcare company in Memphis. The company provided housing, meals and a competitive salary for her services. Jim even managed to find a job that utilized his undergrad biology minor. He became a sales rep for a biotech firm, selling pharmaceutical solutions to doctor’s offices and hospitals. For the first time in his adult life, he worked a respectable job and felt like a respectable man. Of course, he kept one foot in the underworld, albeit a smaller footprint. In the Memphis area, Jim was an honest, working man.

  “Carla, let me switch over. I gotta take this,” Jim said. “I’ll only take a minute.”

  “Hurry your ass up already,” Carla responded.

  Click!

  “Hello?”

  “Jim, my baby girl’s in the hospital,” Frank cried. “They beat and raped my daughter.”

  Jim’s heart went cold, like a small block of dry ice beating through his chest, pumping ice water through his veins. His anger brewed and quickly boiled over, yet there was nothing he could say, nothing he could do to make this go away. A cloud of guilt came over him as he felt partially responsible through his indirect dealings in the racket back in Chicago. He fell silent.

  “Hello?” Frank yelled.

  “Frank, I’ll take care of this.” Jim said. “Just stay by your daughter’s side. I gotta go.”

  Click!

  “Carla…”

  “What’s wrong Jimmy?”

  “I’m going to be on the next flight to Chicago. I’ll explain later, I gotta go.”
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  Chapter 3

  Jim boarded the 6:05 a.m. Delta Airlines flight to Chicago. En route he had a layover in Atlanta. He used that layover to reschedule appointments that he had with doctors and health care facilities for the day. Jim also called his employer and left a message on his sales manager’s voice mail to inform him of his family emergency and his need to take the day off. Luckily for Jim it was Friday and the weekend gave him enough time to visit Frank and his family and tend to any matters that he deemed important.

  Now that he had settled his business matters with his prospective clients and employer, it was time to make one more important phone call.

  It took a more than a few moments for Carla to recognize Jim’s voice. She was awakened by Jim’s phone call and was still groggy. After wiping the crust out of her eyes, Carla slowly plugged her earpiece in her phone and place the ear buds in each of her ears. Now she could comfortably lie down and talk to Jim.

  “Good morning, Jimmy. Do you have any idea what time it is?”

  “Eight forty-three in the a.m.,” Jim replied.

  “Why are you calling me so early?”

  “Because I wanted to know that you were okay,” Jim said. “That and I have almost an hour layover.”

  “Why are you going back to Chicago?”

  “My friend’s daughter got hurt real badly and I must find out what’s going on.”

  “Jimmy, it’s still dangerous in Chicago. Do you remember what happened the last time you were in Chicago?”

  “Very much so,” Jim said, “but I have to go.”

  “No you don’t. Please, catch the next flight back to Memphis.”

  “Carla, I have to go,” Jim said. “I at least have to find out what happened.”

  “Will you do one thing for me?”

  “Depending on what it is, dear.”

  “You’re calling me dear?”

  Carla was caught off-guard with his term of endearment. From that fateful night that they decided to go inside Jessica’s basement, she could never get a read on his emotions. Given Jim’s capricious nature, she could never be too sure about where they actually stood. Were they friends? She knew that she could count on him to protect her, but anything beyond that remained a mystery.