The Spirit Survives (21 page)

Since 1998 the Black and Tan Restaurant was known as the premier dining location in Northeastern Wisconsin. It offered elegant and contemporary dining with window seating overlooking the beautiful views of the Fox River.
 

He requested and was seated at a table with a direct view of the door and waited for Bastone to arrive. The Fixer looked dapper in his grey linen sport coat and a white silk shirt with an open collar. His charcoal gabardine trousers completed the outfit. After waiting for twenty minutes, he ordered a Dewers scotch and water and sat patiently sipping it.

When a man in his forties with coal black hair and piercing blue eyes walked in the door, he knew it was Bastone. The man wore a black t-shirt under a black sports jacket. His trousers were obviously custom made and were also black. He was a striking figure.

The Fixer stood up and beckoned to the man. The Italian walked to the table.

“Are you Bastone?” The man nodded. The Fixer offered no name, just shook his hand and beckoned for the hostess. He asked for a different table in the back of the room next to a window. He wanted complete privacy. Bastone followed him to the table, and they were seated.

A beautiful Indian girl with long black hair worn in a ponytail, and big brown eyes approached the table with menus. Her name tag read Macy. Bastone scarcely noticed her, but the Fixer gave her the once over. Her figure was dainty but her breasts were probably 34C. The Fixer loved young women with breasts bigger than a slim frame normally held.
 

Macy smiled and said, “Gentlemen, may I tell you our specials?”
 

The Fixer nodded, still staring at the beautiful girl’s breasts.
 

Macy continued, “The appetizer special is the wild mushroom and goat cheese brochette with fresh bread and creamy goat cheese, topped with balsamic marinate and parmesan cheese. The entrée special is lump crab cakes served with chili creole and a fresh spring mix.”

Without hesitation, the Fixer ordered the specials. Bastone, still oblivious to the girls charm and beauty, ordered an appetizer of beef tips with pearl onions and mushrooms and for his entrée he ordered the grilled rib eye, topped with butter and crispy haystack onions with wild rice. They agreed on a bottle of Merlot with the meal.

Macy left with the order, accompanied by the Fixer’s eyes fixed on her firm small ass. Bastone gave the older man a stern look and said, “Why don’t we get down to business?”
 

The Fixer bestowed on him an unpretentious smile and tore his eyes away from Macy’s backside. His first thought was
, I should pop this arrogant son of a bitch right now!
Mostly, out of fear of the Benefactor, he just nodded.

Bastone continued, “I’ve had Petrov and Bo Lopez under surveillance since I’ve been here. It’s apparent that Petrov is observing Bo’s every move and Bo has no idea he’s being followed. As you are probably aware, Petrov is Sergey Ivanova’s principal hit man. I can only assume that Petrov believes that Bo had something to do with Sergey’s daughter’s murder. Sergey put a million dollar bounty on the killer’s head, only if he is delivered alive. Since we’re both working for the Benefactor, you understand that I need to be the one to take that murderer, whoever he is, to Sergey. Those are the Benefactor’s wishes. Do you comprehend so far?”

“I understand completely,” the Fixer said in a calm and steady voice.

He looked up as Macy approached and set water glasses filled with ice on the table, opened a bottle of glacier water, and filled the glasses. She placed wine glasses in front of each man, opened the bottle of wine and poured a small amount in the Fixer’s glass. He tasted the wine, gave her a big smile and said, “This is acceptable, Macy.” She filled the glasses and left to fetch the appetizers. Both men sat silently while they waited. The Fixer felt nothing but disdain for this bastard, but Bastone exhibited no emotion at all. Macy returned with the appetizers, served them with a smile, while strangely keeping her eyes on the Fixer. She seemed to have concluded that he was the Alpha male at this table, and that he would be the one leaving the tip. Macy was experienced in how to secure the largest tips using her looks.

“Can I get you anything else for now?” she asked, still smiling at the Fixer.

“Nothing else now, honey,” he replied, giving her a wink.

When they were alone, Bastone spoke again, “Both Bo and Petrov are staying at the Residence Inn, Bo in 101 and Petrov in 98. You take Petrov and I’ll concentrate on Bo. Let’s get in touch immediately if anything of significance happens. If not, we can touch base every evening. I have a Smith & Wesson SW11911 in the car for you. When we leave the restaurant, I’ll give it to you.”

The Fixer just nibbled on his appetizer and nodded. He didn’t like receiving orders from Bastone.
Who made him king?
he thought.

Bastone had not touched his appetizer or wine when Macy appeared with their entrees. She replenished the Fixer’s glass and removed his empty plate. Bastone thrust his plate toward her indicating that he was finished.
 

“Was there something wrong with your appetizer?” she asked.

He mumbled, “No!”
 

She took the plate away and placed the entrees in front of the men. She deliberately brushed her breasts against the Fixer’s arm as she served his plate. It didn’t go unnoticed by the man.

Both men ate in silence. Bastone was a man of few words and he had said all he needed to say. Out of fear and respect for the Benefactor, the Fixer just kept his mouth shut. Under other circumstances he would have told Bastone to shove his arrogant attitude up his ass, Mafia or no Mafia. He had an instant dislike for this shithead.

When they were finished eating, the Fixer signaled to Macy for the check. She walked to the table and handed him the bill. He palmed a fifty along with his American Express debit card and handed it to her. She beamed and left to get his receipt. When she returned and gave him the receipt, he noticed that she had written a phone number on the back of it. Bastone seemed oblivious to the entire transaction.
Macy must be working her way through college,
the Fixer thought. He planned to help her with those expenses later tonight, if she was willing.

The Fixer walked with Bastone to his car. The Italian opened the trunk and handed the Fixer a bag containing the Smith & Wesson pistol. Bastone left without another word.

The Fixer left the parking lot of the restaurant. The first motel he passed was the AmericInn. He pulled into the parking lot, proceeded to the lobby, checked in and went to his room.
 

The room was typical of a mid-priced motel, with a king bed in the center of the room. After unpacking his small bag, the Fixer called the number Macy had written on the back of the check.
 

She answered her cell phone on the fourth ring. He identified himself as the guy in the grey sport coat who had spotted her the fifty.
 

“I’m so pleased that you called,” she purred. “I get off at eleven o’clock. Is that too late?”

“Listen Macy, let’s cut to the chase. I need some company tonight, and I’m ready to pay five hundred. Are you willing?”

“Sure,” she said, “where are you staying? I need the money to help with my expenses.”

“AmericInn, it’s just down the street in room 314. See you at about eleven-fifteen okay?”

“I’ll be there,” she answered, and hung up.

The Fixer had long since learned that money would buy you anything you want at any time you wanted it.

He took a shower, put on shorts and a t-shirt, went to the ice machine and filled his ice bucket, unpacked a bottle of Dewers Scotch from his suitcase and poured himself a drink.

He turned on the TV and sat on the love seat to wait on Macy.

At precisely eleven-fifteen there was a knock on the door. He opened it and there stood Macy. She was still wearing the white shirt and black pants, which was her server’s uniform. She had unbuttoned the top three buttons of the shirt showing cleavage of her well-formed breasts. The Fixer felt an immediate stirring in his groin. He gave her a big smile and opened the door, beckoning for her to enter. “Well Macy, don’t you look sexy?”

“I am glad I met such a generous gentleman,” she replied. “Where are you from?”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m from way out of town. You won’t have to worry about seeing me ever again after tonight,” he answered. “You can just call me John.”

“Well John, I love older men, especially if they’re generous.”

The Fixer filled a glass with ice and scotch and handed it to her without asking if she wanted a drink. Macy took the drink and sipped it.
 

“Please sit down,” the Fixer said, smiling. Macy sat on the love seat, placed her purse on the floor and crossed her legs. The Fixer extracted his wallet, counted out five hundred dollars and handed it to her. “Let’s get the business out of the way first,” he said.

She took the money, put it in her purse, and took a long pull from her scotch. “Just tell me what you want and maybe, if I please you, a tip would be appreciated.”

The Fixer was amazed that she evidently had done this before, professionally. He didn’t give a damn; he was ready for this fine young specimen.

Macy placed her drink glass on the coffee table, and began unbuttoning her white shirt. She unveiled a black lace bra, which only slightly contained her breasts. She was gazing into the Fixer’s eyes while she was stripping. She stood up, draped the shirt around the back of the lounge chair and began taking off her pants. A black lace thong barely covered her black bush. She took the clip off her ponytail and let her silky black hair hang down. Macy strolled to the bed and sat on the corner. “Why don’t you join me?” She whispered as she unhooked her bra and tossed it to the floor.

The Fixer was mesmerized. She was sexier than he had fantasized. Her slim body was muscled, showing that she regularly worked out. Her breasts were firm with black nipples, which were erect. There was no question that she was a C-cup.
 

He stood and removed his socks, shoes, pants and shirt. Even in his sixties, he worked out daily, so he was proud of his body. He walked over to the bed and stood in front of her. She reached over and softly stroked him. He quickly sat on the bed and kissed her, while squeezing her black nipples.

The next two hours blew his mind. He was experienced, but he learned a few things from this dark beauty. When he finished, for the second time, he lay exhausted beside her. She stroked his chest while he rested. After a few minutes she said, “Excuse me for a minute I need to go to the ladies’ room.” The Fixer closed his eyes and lay still.

As she was getting out of the bed, Macy quietly lifted his trousers, removed his wallet and took it to the bathroom with her. She didn’t take cash, even though his wallet was fat with fifties and hundreds. She simply looked at his driver’s license, memorized his name and address and closed it. She slipped out of the bathroom and replaced the wallet in his trousers. The Fixer didn’t notice anything until she lay back down beside him and kissed him. “Honey I have to go now, I’ve got appointments in the morning.”

The Fixer got up, tugged his wallet from his pants and handed her two-hundred dollars. “That’s extra for a sensational night,” he said.
 

She smiled, retrieved her purse and put the money in it beside the 32 caliber Walther pistol and the badge.

Macy dressed, kissed him on the cheek and left the room.
 

* * *

When Macy got to her car in the parking lot, she took out her cell phone and pushed a speed dial number.

“This is Bastone,” the gruff voice replied.

“This is Macy, contact made. I have his name and address for you. Let’s meet tomorrow and I’ll provide it and you can pay me the rest of the retainer.”
 

Bastone agreed and they hung up.

* * *

The Fixer immediately went to sleep, gratified and prepared for dreams of the beautiful young woman. He felt as if he had discovered a diamond in a sludge pit. He decided to go against his restrictions about never seeing a hooker twice. He just might give Macy another shot.

Chapter 50

Sergey was damn pissed off. He paced the floor in his condo with a glass of Diva vodka in his hand. Stopping by the large window looking out at the grey hazy sky hanging over Lake Michigan, he cursed under his breath. All the money he’d spent and no results. Petrov was usually productive and Bastone would do anything for money, yet neither had given him anything.

At least his police contact had told him that the man rescued from the cave was an eye witness to a murder. Now he had something to act on.
 

He walked to the couch, sat down, and called Petrov.

“What do you want Sergey?” Petrov answered.

“Listen Petrov, there’s been a break in the case. The police rescued a man named Ben Harris from a cave after the tornados. My contacts sent me a picture of him on my phone, and I’ll forward it to you. I’m told that he can identify my daughter’s killer. You must get to him and acquire a description, and find out exactly what happened. There was also a dead man in the cave with him named Cherokee Alvarez, who works with Bo Lopez. I want to be certain that Lopez or Alvarez were the killers before you bring Bo to me. If he murdered Veronika, I want to see him suffer and beg for his miserable life. This Harris guy is in St. Vincent Hospital. With the police going and coming, I don’t think you can get to him there. Forget following Lopez for awhile and stake out the hospital. When Harris gets out, grab him and get a description of the killers. Then kill him. Is that clear?”