Rock Chick

Chapter Twelve I Did My Duty to the Pot

I woke up when I felt the sheet go down my hip and a hand go up it.

I turned bleary eyes to Lee, who was sitting, from what I could tell in the dawns early light, fully-clothed on the side of the bed.

“I need coffee,” I mumbled.

“You don’t have to get up, I’m just sayin’ good-bye,” he answered.

I blinked in the semi-darkness.

“Where are you going?”

But I’d lost his attention, he was looking in the vicinity of my hips.

“Do you always wear underwear like this, or is it for me?”

I rolled to my back and pulled the sheet to my waist.

“It isn’t for you, I’ve been wearing underwear like this since Gram gave me my first Frederick’s of Hollywood box on my sixteenth birthday. Now, I owe Victoria’s Secret my first-born child.”

Before speaking again, Lee waited several seconds that can only be described as “loaded silence”. While this silence was going on, he pulled the sheet back down.

“You’re tellin’ me that since you were sixteen you’ve been sittin’ next to me every year at Christmas Dinner wearin’ underwear like this?”

I was having trouble processing all that was happening, seeing as it was oh-dark-hundred, Lee was dressed and leaving and we were talking about my underwear.

Had I sat beside him at Christmas Dinner every year?

I had. At first because I finagled it, the last ten years by a cruel twist of fate.

“I didn’t sit by you,” I kind of lied.

“No, I sat by you.”

At that unbelievable announcement, I got up on my two elbows and winced. Another learning experience, rolling around in bushes with your arms cuffed behind your back made you ache.

I glanced at the clock, five after five.

“It’s five after five! Where are you going?”

He leaned forward and brushed my lips with his.

“Hunting.”

The way he said it made me fear for all the furry little creatures in the woods. Then I realized that Lee didn’t hunt, at least not furry little creatures.

Yikes.

I considered what to say and settled on, “Be careful.”

An arm went around me and he pulled me to him. I was not a big fan of morning kisses before brushing your teeth, especially if tongue was involved.

His kiss was so fine, I made an exception and kissed him back.

He dragged me across his lap and deepened the kiss. If the kiss got any deeper, my lovely sage green satin undies with smoky gray lace were going to spontaneously combust.

When he lifted his head, he said, “Call Hank if you go anywhere, I need my men working. Hank’s gonna watch you today.”

Since I didn’t want to get kidnapped again and yesterday had beaten out the day I called the ticket line and found out Pearl Jam was sold out as the worst day of my life, I said, “Okay.”

He kissed me quickly, deposited me back in bed and then he was gone.

I slept more, got up, drank coffee, sucked down some ibuprofen and called Hank to come and get me. I didn’t know what I intended to do that day but I was too wired by recent events to sit around all day in Lee’s condo.

I surveyed myself in Lee’s bathroom mirror. The semi-shiner was fading but still there.

I looked down at my body.

I had added bruises on my wrists, biceps and thighs as well as some small scratches on my arms and legs.

Very attractive.

To make myself feel better about this situation, I turned to my MAC cosmetics. MAC never let me down. I put on some dewy blush, eye shadow that really had no color but was mostly sparkles, that white under-mascara-base-coat that makes our eyelashes look a mile long and a double-coat of mascara. I donned my Lynyrd Skynryd t-shirt, jeans, black woven belt with the big, square, silver buckle stamped with tiny roses and black cowboy boots.

I’d just tugged on the second boot when my cell rang.

“We have a problem,” Duke’s gravelly, Sam Elliott voice crunched in my ear.

“Duke! God, I’m glad to hear from you.”

“I’m at the store –”

“I closed the store for the weekend,” I informed him belatedly.

“I saw the note, I opened it. We have a near-riot on our hands here. People are freakin’ that Rosie’s not here. It started out pretty peaceful but now the mob want blood.”

“Are you there alone?”

I was aghast. Staffing Fortnum’s in the morning alone in the years pre-espresso-counter was doable. Post-coffee, impossible.

“Dolores is with me.”

Uh-oh.

Dolores drank instant coffee. This was not a good thing.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I flipped my phone shut and the buzzer went just as my cell rang again.

The phone was Ally, I flipped it open and told her to hang on while I hit the button on Lee’s intercom. It was Hank so I told him I’d be down to meet him.

“You doin’ okay?” Ally asked.

“Yeah, I ache but other than that, fine,” I answered.

“What’re you up to today?”

“Duke opened Fortnum’s and just phoned in a potential Rosie Riot. I’m heading over with Hank.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

Hank was not thrilled about heading into a riot situation as the first order of business during his Indy Watch. I talked him into it by alluding to concerns about his masculinity.

I walked in the door at Fortnum’s and wished I’d let Hank talk me out of riot control. There were at least fifteen, maybe twenty people and the air crackled with hostility. It was pretty clear that the regulars were okay with a few confused Rosie-free days but now the natives were getting restless.

Annie spied me before the door shut behind Hank. Annie had been coming every weekday morning for years, eight fifteen, wearing a suit, her blonde hair molded into a style reminiscent of a football helmet. We’d chatted over the counter hundreds of times and she was always pleasant if sometimes in a hurry. It was Sunday and I’d never seen her there on a weekend.

“What the fuck is going on here? Where’s the little guy who makes the coffee?” she snapped.

I stared at her and my mouth dropped open.

“Yeah. Where’s Rosie and why was the store closed yesterday? Ellen never closed the store. As in, ever.” That was Manuel, he’d been a regular since before the days of caffeine. He used to read Vonnegut and Updike for hours in the T-U-V section. I’d known him for as long as I could remember.

“I go out of my way, seventeen blocks, for the Coffee Guy’s coffee. What am I gonna do now? Where am I gonna go?” another guy asked. I didn’t know his name but he’d come with Rosie after he left the chain-coffee-shop and usually popped by a couple of Sundays a month and sometimes actually bought a book.

They started to press in and Hank pushed in front of me going into bodyguard mode.

Really, I was fed up. I understood the love of coffee, but this was ridiculous. I’d had the worst few days of my entire life. I was Lee Nightingale’s girlfriend and we hadn’t done it yet. I was a woman on the edge.

I stood on a chair, put my thumb and finger in my mouth and gave the ear-splitting whistle Dad taught me when I was eleven.

“Listen up people!” I shouted.

All eyes turned to me as I noticed Mr. Kumar walk in with an Asian woman his age and another one much older, the other one possibly prehistoric.

I turned my attention back to the mob.

“The Coffee Guy, whose name is Rosie by the way, has moved to El Salvador,” I lied.

This was not met with happy noises.

“He’s turned his back on coffee and is in the wilds of Central America building houses for the poor. I think we should all take a moment away from our quest for coffee-satisfaction and think about this noble decision. As you clamor for caffeine and curse the hard-working but innocent staff at my store, Rosie is sitting in the bed of a beat-up pickup bumping across dirt roads to make one room homes out of mud for those who have nothing at all.”

I was kind of laying it on thick and had no idea what I was talking about but I was counting on American insularity. Since we hadn’t been to war with El Salvador, what did anyone know about it?

Now, people were staring at me as if I was a performer in the Jim Rose Circus Sideshow.

“I’ll understand if you make the decision to move back to a franchise coffee shop, but consider this. In a couple of years, little businesses like mine, and Mr. Kumar’s over there,” I pointed at Kumar and his neck descended three inches into his shoulders, “are going to be taken over and America will be wall-to-wall franchises. The franchise is killing off America’s Mom and Pop shops. Ask yourself… is that what you want? Is that what you really want?”

No one said a word.

“I said, is that what you want?” I shouted.

There was some shuffling of feet and someone said a quiet, “No.”

It wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement or a cry to freedom but I was beginning to feel like an idiot. I mean, I was talking like Tex, for God’s sake, not to mention standing on a chair.

“Good. Duke’s taking coffee orders. We’ll get you all sorted out in no time. Thank you for your attention.”

I stepped off the chair and Hank was grinning at me. I figured Lee would hear about this. It didn’t matter, they were used to me doing crazy shit. I ignored Hank and smiled at Kumar.

“Hey, Mr. Kumar.”

“India,” he said. “This is my wife, Mrs. Kumar and my wife’s mother, Mrs. Salim.”

I smiled at the women. Mrs. Kumar was clearly a beauty in her day and the bloom was not yet off the rose. She smiled back and it reached her eyes with a dazzle.

Mrs. Salim’s entire face was wrinkled and motionless and I fought the urge to listen for her breathing.

“You buy food at my store, we are here to buy books at yours.”

Something about this show of solidarity made me want to cry. Mr. Kumar must have sensed it because he bowed his head to me. I bowed mine back.

“Then we are going to go to see Tex in the hospital. Then we will go and open our store.”

“I’m going to see Tex later too.”

He nodded.

“Now I can see that you need to make coffee.”

I nodded back and Ally pushed through the door. She saw Kumar right away and smiled, pushing forward. “Hey Mr. Kumar. Is this the missus? Whoa!”

Ally rounded the Kumars, saw Mrs. Salim and couldn’t hide her reaction.

I left her extracting her foot out of her mouth.

Dolores was taking orders, saying such things to the customers as, “Skinny lah-tay, uh, come again?” and Duke was making coffee.

Dolores worked at the Little Bear which was a very cool and could-get-rowdy bar in Evergreen. She could take an order for eight margaritas, two without salt, three frozen, three Jack and cokes, a white Russian and a Shirley Temple, fill it without a mistake and carry it all to the table on one tray. With coffee, she was hopeless. She came in to help out at Fortnum’s every once in awhile and it was never pretty.

I shouldered in next to Duke and made Hank a cappuccino with a triple shot. Pepper Rick was still on the loose and I wanted Hank hyper-alert. Hank positioned himself at the end of the counter, in full view of the front door and in reaching distance of me.

“I guess I picked the wrong time for a bender,” Duke said to me.

“Yeah, but I’m getting used to getting stun-gunned, kidnapped and shot at. Finding the dead body was a serious bummer and Tex got shot in the shoulder last night but other than that, no worries.”

Duke went still. Dolores looked up from the paper cup on which she was frantically misspelling instructions in hot pink marker and stared at me with huge eyes. The customer standing in front of the espresso machine gaped at me.

Er, I guess Lee didn’t fill Duke in yesterday.

“You wanna run that by me again?” Duke suggested.

I eyed the customer and pulled at the machine. “Later.”

We cleared the throng just as the happy sound of the cash register at the book counter rang. As per usual, everyone looked up and Ally yelled the ceremonial, “I sold a book!”

Sometimes when someone sold a book, we shouted it. It was cause for celebration.

I did my book sale happy dance, waving my arms and turning in a circle. When I finished my dance, I noticed it was The Kumars’ purchase. They were standing in front of Ally and I gave them a big thumbs up.

In slow motion, old Mrs. Salim returned the gesture and I feared that her thumb would break off in a poof of dust like the zombie’s arm in Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” video. She snatched the bag from Ally with bony fingers and they walked out on a wave, Mrs. Salim shuffling behind, her bag rustling.

“Now that we have a second, let’s go back over the kidnapping and dead body thing,” Duke said to me, his fingers scratching his forehead under his trademark rolled, red bandana.

My cell phone rang.

Saved by the cell.

I flipped it open.

“Hello?”

Silence, then a quiet voice said, “I need a Rock Chick rescue.”

“Sorry?”

“A scary guy was at the door. He’s gone but I know he’s gonna come back, I know it. He knows I’ve got them and he’s gonna get me like he got Tim.”

It was The Kevster. Who was at the door, only God knew, but it didn’t sound good. And The Kevster had something, something I hoped was glittery and worth a million dollars.

“Kevin?” I asked.

“You gotta help me.”

The phone went dead.

I looked to Ally.

“The Kevster’s in trouble.” I swung my eyes to Hank. “We gotta roll.”

I took off from behind the counter but was halted on a skid when Hank grabbed a handful of my tee.

“What’s goin’ on?”

I gave him the lowdown, trying to pull him along with me but he stood stock-still and shook his head.

“I’ll call it in,” Hank said.

“No! No cops. He’s a little… sensitive.”

Hank stared at me and his mouth got tight.

“I’m a cop,” he reminded me.

“Not today,” I tried.

I failed.

“Everyday,” he returned.

“Hank, seriously, for some reason he trusts me and Ally. We gotta go and you gotta be cool.”

“Indy, seriously, you aren’t going anywhere and I don’t gotta be anything.”

Ally walked up to us. “I’ll go.”

“You aren’t going either.” Hank looked at the both of us. “Jesus. I’ll go.”

Hank started walking to the door asking where Kevin lived.

I followed close behind.

He turned and I slammed into him.

“Stay,” he said.

“I’m not a dog!”

“You aren’t going.”

“I’m not staying.”

Hank glanced at Duke and I was pretty sure they were going to gang up on me so I burst out, “They kidnapped me at the front door of my childhood home! They won’t think twice about coming here. I’m not leaving you and you have to go save The Kevster so I’m going with you.”

“I’m going too,” Ally said.

Turning the tables, Ally and I ganged up on Hank. He looked about ready to commit murder but he relented. He’d known Ally and me long enough to know we’d get our way come hell or high water.

“You have to do what I tell you,” he said.

That was not gonna happen.

“Sure,” I lied.

He stared at me. He knew I was lying. He blew out a sigh and we left.

Hank had barely rolled his 4Runner to a stop outside The Kevster’s house when I was out the door.

“Indy, for fuck’s sake!” Hank shouted.

I ran to Kevin’s front door and pounded on it.

“Kevin, it’s me. Indy Savage, Rock Chick,” I called, sounding stupid but I was also thinking that maybe Kevin had the diamonds and I wanted them. I wanted this all to be over. I didn’t want to be tied to a chair ever again. I wanted that enough to sound stupid.

I felt Hank come up behind me just as the door was thrown open.

Kevin reached out and grabbed my arm and tugged me inside. Every sore, aching muscle in my body screamed out and Kevin swung the door shut behind me.

Not fast enough, Hank had time to twist his torso, slammed his shoulder into the door and it flew open, sending Kevin careening against the opposite wall.

In two strides, Hank was on him, his hand at The Kevster’s throat holding him against the wall.

“Hank, it’s okay, that’s Kevin,” I said.

Hank turned to me, then looked beyond me and said, “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Ally was also in and she was staring behind me and then she tipped back her head and laughed.

I turned and saw that The Kevster’s living room was filled with pot plants. Every surface was covered with plants, and that included the floor. There was a narrow path forged through the plants but other than that, it was wall-to-wall marijuana. It was a pot jungle.

“Holy crap,” I said.

“Gulk,” The Kevster said.

“Hank, let him go,” Ally said.

Hank’s hand loosened at Kevin’s throat and his other hand went to the small of his back. He was wearing jeans, boots and a gray t-shirt that fit snug on the shoulders and chest but sat loose at his waist. He pulled up the back of his tee and exposed a gun tucked into his waistband next to a pair of cuffs. He pulled out the cuffs and slapped a bracelet on Kevin, then he yanked him toward a door and slapped the other bracelet on the doorknob.

Kevin was coughing and explaining at the same time.

“Dude! I had to save the plants! They were dyin’. They didn’t do anything wrong, they’re innocent. Rosie left them to die. Someone had to save the plants.”

Hank ignored Rosie and turned to me.

“I want to talk to you,” he said.

He stalked through the pot path and I followed him into Kevin’s kitchen, which was also filled with pot plants.

Hank glanced around and then turned on me.

“What in the fuck?” he asked.

“How’m I supposed to know what the fuck? I thought he was calling about Pepper Rick, the guy who kidnapped me. I didn’t know anything about this.”

Hank stared at me for a beat and then looked to the ceiling.

“What’re you gonna do?” I asked.

“I’m callin’ it in,” he answered in a no-nonsense cop tone.

Uh-oh.

“Can we take the plants back to Rosie’s first and call it in from there?”

Hank stared at me incredulously, as if I’d just asked for permission to run the world and make every Tuesday International Pink Champagne Day.

I guessed that was not going to happen.

“Okay then, can the police take the plants and leave Kevin? They aren’t his plants, he’s just looking after them as a concerned environmentalist.”

Hank put his hands to his hips.

I sucked some air into my nostrils and then let it out. “How much trouble is he in?”

“Indy, do you have any idea how much this shit is worth?”

I looked around. I’d seen pot, I’d been around people smoking pot, I’d even shared a few joints myself in my wild past, but I had no idea.

“Uh, no,” I answered.

“He’s in a lot of trouble.”

I was afraid of that.

We followed the pot path back to Ally and The Kevster. The Kevster looked freaked. Ally had clearly cottoned on to the seriousness of the matter.

“What are you gonna do?” she asked Hank.

He walked right by her and out the door, pulling out his cell.

“This isn’t good,” I said to Ally.

“Why’d you bring a cop here?” Kevin whined.

“He’s my bodyguard, I keep getting shot at and kidnapped,” I told him.

The Kevster stared at me, this news always brought the same amazed look to everyone. Then again, it was amazing.

Then Kevin said, “Tim’s dead. I heard it on the news. Rosie fucked us all.”

This was true, quiet, little Rosie, the Coffee Guy, had fucked us all.

“Why did you bring the plants here?” Ally asked the million dollar question.

“Dude, I’m a pothead. This is the best pot in Denver, in Colorado, maybe in the world. It would be a crime to let it die. I did my duty to the pot, I pay the price. I have no regrets,” The Kevster was getting dramatic in the face of incarceration. I thought that was a good way to go.

“Tell me about this guy who came today. What’d he look like?” I asked.

The Kevster shrugged. Obviously, a future of using the toilet with an audience made scary guys seem less scary.

“He was one that came before, but without his partner. Dark hair with some gray, big guy. I saw him out the window, he looked angry.”

I turned to Ally, she raised her brows and I nodded.

Pepper Rick.

“When was he here?” Ally asked.

“This morning, it wasn’t even light yet. Bangin’ on the door, bangin’ on the windows, shoutin’. Freaked me out, I didn’t leave my bedroom and your card was on my fridge. I waited for, like, ever. Then I had to pee and I grabbed your card and the phone on my way to the bathroom. I called you after I peed.”

That was a bit too much information.

Unfortunately, Pepper Rick was probably long gone. I had to call Lee anyway, he was hunting and this was information about his prey.

I walked outside and saw Hank talking to a couple of uniforms, one was Jorge Alvarez who was soon supposed to sit the detective exam and, according to Malcolm, would likely be Chief of Police one day.

His partner was Carl Farrell who Ally had made out with after an F.O.P. hog roast. Carl had a bachelor’s, majoring in biology and political science and was now studying forensics. Carl was tall, big, blond-haired and blue-eyed. Carl’s hair was always a bit of a mess, Carl had a killer, dry sense of humor and Carl had a way of looking at you like he knew what you looked like naked. In other words, Carl was very sexy. If I hadn’t been so hung up on Lee, Ally’d have had competition for Carl.

I waved to Jorge and Carl as they walked inside. Jorge shook his finger at me mock-angrily. Carl grinned, then winked as he walked by.

Hank headed toward me.

I was about to call Lee when my cell rang.

I flipped it open.

“Hello?”

“Hello yourself, woman. You comin’ to get me, or what?”

It was Tex.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“They’re lettin’ me out and won’t let me walk or take a taxi.”

I thought about this. He was at Denver Health and it was at least five miles from his house. Crazy Tex roaming the streets whacked out on pain killers did not sound like a peaceful afternoon for Denver.

Two more cop cars angled in, followed by a Channel 9 News van.

Great.

The pot jungle was going to be big news.

“When are they releasing you?” I asked Tex.

“Ten minutes ago.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I flipped the phone shut and Hank stared at me. “What now?”

Ally came out of the house just ahead of Jorge, Carl and The Kevster.

Or, I should say, Ally sashayed out of the house with a knowing smile on her face and Carl followed staring at her ass, a knowing smile on his face too.

Another cop car angled in and Channel 7 News jockeyed for a parking spot. Jorge tossed Hank his cuffs as he passed us, escorting Kevin to the squad car.

“Come visit me, Rock Chicks,” Kevin shouted, luckily not holding any grudges. “Bring brownies!”

“You take him brownies and I’ll kill you,” Hank said.

I ignored his threat. “Do you have to stay here?”

“No, I briefed Jorge. They have it covered. We’ll go into the station later to give our statements.”

“Good, we have to go get Tex from the hospital. They released him ten minutes ago and he needs a ride.”

Hank was shaking his head again.

“We’re not goin’ to Tex’s house. There’s strong physical evidence that suggests he has tear gas and grenades. I don’t even want to think about what we’ll find in his house. I’ll have to call the ATF and those guys are nuts.”

“Then don’t come in,” I suggested.

“Indy –”

I pulled out my trump card.

“He took a bullet for me.”

That did it.

“Lee owes me big time for this,” Hank muttered as he walked to his SUV.

My cell rang as we pulled away from the curb.

The display said, “Lee calling.”

“Hey, I was just gonna call you,” I said.

“The office phoned, you’re all over the police-band.”

Oopsie.

“I kind of led Hank to a house full of pot plants and he went all cop on me.”

Silence.

“Lee?”

“Why aren’t you at the condo?”

“Duke called, he opened the store. There was a Mini-We-Want-Rosie Riot. We settled that and then The Kevster called and told us someone was at his house, scaring him. I thought it was my kidnapper, Pepper Rick and it was. That’s why I was gonna call you because he was at Kevin’s early this morning banging on the door. I thought you’d want to know.”

Silence again.

“Lee?”

“Where’s Hank?”

“He’s driving, we’re on our way to get Tex and take him home. The hospital released him.”

“Let me talk to him.”

I looked at Hank. Hank looked unhappy.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“I think he’s kinda mad at you.”

“Let me get this straight, he’s supposed to be lookin’ after you and he takes you to a house where your kidnapper was, just hours ago, and he’s mad at me?”

Yikes.

“I guess the feeling’s mutual.”

More silence.

“I kinda talked him into it.”

“Yeah, I suspect you’re good at that.”

“If it makes you feel better, he’s already threatened to kill me.”

I heard the sigh before, “Be safe, for Christ’s sake.”

Then he hung up.

When Hank swung in the SUV, Tex was at the Emergency Room entrance, sitting in a wheelchair, his arm in a tight sling, a stocky guy in scrubs and clogs standing behind him.

Tex pushed himself out of the chair as we walked up to him and he shot a filthy look at the guy in scrubs.

“Fuckin’ wheelchairs. Fuckin’ orderlies,” Tex groused.

“I’m not an orderly, I’m a nursing assistant,” Clog Guy said and from the look of him, there was no way I’d disagree. He could be anything he wanted.

“Whatever,” Tex muttered and his eyes settled on me. “What’d I miss?”

I ran it down for him with a little more detail than what I did for Lee, the riot, Kumar’s prehistoric mother-in-law, the Kevster call, kidnapper sighting, pot plants, police and two news vans.

“Fuckin’ A, darlin’,” he said to me.

“Fuckin’ A,” I replied, “now what?”

Tex lumbered to the SUV. “Now, we feed the cats.”