I sat alone in the diner. I was ten minutes early; I didn't want to come across as someone that wasn't serious about putting all of this behind me. I wanted nothing to do with anything Jeff and the others had done. All I wanted was to be left alone.
"Refill?" the lady asked as she passed my table.
"Yes please," I nodded as she refilled my soda.
Then I saw it, a black car parked next to mine. I saw him get out of the car with three other men and one woman. My heart started to race as they walked inside.
Lucas, as Ray had called him, walked straight to my table. He sat beside me and said nothing. Slowly I watched everyone leave the diner.
Everyone, including the lady serving the drinks, the large man behind making the food. The couple at the end, everyone left the diner and got in their cars and drove away.
Everyone except one man, he looked like a sharply dressed lawyer. He slowly stood up, picked up the large pitcher of soda, and brought it to the table. He looked at me as he poured some of it into my glass.
Slowly he put it down on the counter then sat down across from me. I was left alone with five people. No witnesses, no one to hear me yell or scream. I reached for my drink and took a sip, and settled in my seat. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen. There was nothing I could do about it.
"Hello," the man said as he stared at me.
I nodded back as I felt everyone's eyes upon me.
"First, I would like to say I like punctuality," the man said as he smiled at me.
I nodded again.
"Second I have to apologize for the feeling you have at the moment, and I want to assure you nothing will happen to you, or your dogs, if you answer honestly," he said. "You have my word."
I nodded and sat upright.
"Good," he said as he leaned back. "Did you get the photos?"
"Yes," I replied. I felt like I had reached my limits of nodding. I told myself short and to the point, answers would get me further than anything else.
"My partners had nothing to do with what happened, but we did warn him, that it would happen," the man said.
"I understand," I replied.
"Good, you are doing excellent so far," he smiled again. "You can breathe normally."
I tried to, but everything about the situation was tense.
"Now," he sat forward. "Your ex-husband took out a considerable loan from us and was unable to pay it back. Do you have any idea where he would hide a large case or bag?"
I looked over at Lucas, and he shook his head at me. "It's not in the house," I said. "He wouldn't trust me or tell me about it," I replied.
The man nodded as if he knew I was going to say that. "Anywhere else?"
"He had a storage unit downtown, I believe the unit was Four 0 Five," I nodded. "He kept most of his get rich schemes thing there after we cleared out the mobile."
"Do you know the address?" he asked.
"It's the one next to the laundry mat on fifth," I said.
One of the men started talking on his cell phone. Lucas and the other man relaxed. "It will take a while," he said as he stood up. "Want a piece of cake? They aren't the best, but they are good."
"No thanks," I replied.
The wait was agonizing. I felt like it was taking an eternity. The cell phone rang back, and it was handed to the man in front of me. I held my breath as he looked at me and said nothing. "Thank you," he replied and hung up.
"Good news," he smiled. "We recovered over half of what he owed; you were correct. For that we are grateful."
I knew better than to smile or breathe a sigh of relief. "And the other half?"
"You now owe," he said. My heart dropped. I knew it.
"I can't, I mean...."
The man held up his hand and shook his head. He nodded at Lucas and the others, and they got up and left the diner to stand outside.
"I hate this part of my job," he said as he loosened up a few buttons on his shirt. "Dealing with their type makes me want to just blow my brains out."
I sat still and looked at him. "You must think the worst right now, and I don't blame you," he smiled. "Truth of the matter he said leaning forward, you have absolutely nothing to fear, and trust me if you did, I wouldn't be here."
I sat still. "If one of us are here, it means that they really can't hurt you," he shrugged. "I am highly allergic to violence and don't get me started on blood," he shook his head.
"Why are you here?" I asked.
"There we go," he nodded. "Good question."
"I am what some would call a handler, I handle situations, that are shall we say delicate," he smiled. "You can call me John."
"Not your real name," I nodded.
"Nope," John said.
"Your situation is delicate because, well you're you," John said. "You have done nothing wrong by their rules or ours, so by that we are not in a position to let's say do things the hard way."
"So, you don't work for them," I said, looking outside.
"Oh, no," John said as he shook his head with a smile. "Other way round."
I looked at him with a look.
"Okay, think of it this way, what you think of about them and all the other groups like them, is totally wrong," he smiled. "You think of them as a parasite that needs to be taken care of immediately, all of them wiped out, all the gangs, the groups, the mafia's all of them gone, right?"
I nodded.
"Wrong," he smiled. "Without them there is no high crime, sure you will still have the small crime, but all the large crime, not so much, there goes all the money to the cities, the officials, the special forces or groups to stop them, all of that money gone."
"So, what does that have to do with me?" I asked.
"You're in a position to help us," John said as he sat back.
"And you are?" I asked.
"The people holding the strings," he laughed. "We say jump, they jump, we say stop, they stop."
"Or?"
"They end up being a headline on the front page, a rival might take them out, a task force takes a huge chunk of their cash cow, any number of things," John shrugged.
I turned to look at them standing outside. They didn't look so scary now. I could see it in their faces. They were scared.
"Nothing happens the way you think it does, Robin," John said. "Nothing, I have a handler, that handler has a handler and so on and so forth. You think because you slap a sticker on your truck and wave a huge flag at election day that everything will happen the way you want it?"
I turned to look at him. "Everyone has a handler, someone like me that tells them what to do, when to do it or else."
"You mean?" I started to get the bigger picture.
"Everyone," he said. "In any position of power, nothing happens unless the people I work for want it."
"And you work for?"
"Who knows," John shrugged as he leaned back. "I always picture them in some dark lit room with candles on the walls controlling the destiny of the world." John laughed. "Makes me sleep better."
"And they want me?" I asked.
"No! Hell no!" John laughed. "I want you."
