Desperate Times Three - Revolution (12 page)

Jimmy stared at the phone and asked the question that had been burning inside of him. “Why are you helping us?”

Thrill roared with laughter. “Jimmy, you really have no idea, do you? I want you to think about something. How many people do you know like your friend, Ken? He’s as clean as a whistle, sharp as a tack, and people like his no-nonsense attitude and rock solid values. I know this started off as kind of a joke, but I firmly believe that you guys have a shot at this. And even if you guys weren’t running, I’d still want to help. I’m filthy stinking rich; you know that, right? What else am I going to do with my money?”

Jimmy thought about that and shrugged. “Thank you,” he said.

“You can thank me by being ready to move. Stay safe and we’ll talk tonight.”

A few minutes later, Julie opened the bathroom door and walked over to join him, wearing a snow-white towel across her middle and another wrapped around her head. “Are you going to hang that up?” she asked, staring at him curiously.

Jimmy looked down at his hand and saw that he was still holding the receiver. “Yeah,” he said, placing it gingerly back in the cradle.

“I hope you were calling room service,” Julie said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I could really go for some coffee. Hey, baby, what’s wrong? Who was that on the phone?”

Jimmy took another quick look outside and ran his hands through his hair. “That,” he said, sitting down next to her, “was Thrill Melbow. He has some people on their way here, and they want to move us to a safe location, whatever that means.”

“Oh, my God.”

“He also said that he has it on
good authority
that Patty is still alive. Don’t ask me how he knows, but he already knew that we’d found you and Bill.” There was a soft knock at the door, and Jimmy sprang from the bed. “Get back in the bathroom,” Jimmy whispered. “Hurry!”

Who is it?” Jimmy asked, peering out the peephole.

“Room service,” replied a man’s voice.

Jimmy, standing in his t-shirt and boxers, breathed a sigh of relief and unlocked the deadbolt. There were four bellhops standing there, and three of them were pushing luggage carts piled high with more shopping bags and department store cartons. The fourth bellhop was pushing a food cart.

“Compliments of Mr. Melbow,” the fourth bellhop said with a wink. He was short and thin as a whip with premature-gray hair and a baby face. “I hope you like steak and eggs.”

There was an awkward moment at the door as the men finished their business and rolled their carts back into the empty hallway.

“I’m afraid I don’t have any money to tip you,” Jimmy said. “I’m really sorry.”

“Oh, no,” one of the men said. “Mr. Melbow has already taken care of that. What we’d like is, I mean, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

“Spit it out, Larry,” urged one of the men.

“Okay, would you mind taking your picture with us? I mean, with some clothes on?”

Jimmy held his hand over his mouth to stifle a smile and held his index finger in the air. “No problem,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

A few minutes later he was back in the room with the door closed.

“Can I come out now?” Julie asked. “I can smell the coffee and its driving me nuts!”

“Just a minute,” Jimmy said. “One of them is still here,” he added, lying. He quickly went through the bags and cartons and sorted Julie’s out on the bed. The smell of fresh fabric and new leather found Jimmy’s nostrils and filled him with nostalgia, reminding him of long ago school clothes shopping trips, with his mother. He went to the door and rapped lightly. “Okay,” he said. “You can come out now.”

The door opened and Julie reemerged, still clad in only a towel. She gave Jimmy a puzzled look as she spotted the bed and held her hand to her chest. “What is all that?” she asked.

“Those are gifts from Thrill Melbow,” said Jimmy. “Go ahead, take a look.”

Julie nearly pounced on the packages, and fresh tears ran down her cheeks as she examined the labels and checked the sizes. “How on earth did he know my size?” she asked. “This is unbelievable. He must have spent thousands of dollars.”

Jimmy smiled and nodded his head. “I think he’s going to be all right,” he said. “I’ve heard he’s filthy stinking rich.”

Julie peered into a cherry-red shopping bag, and her hand shot to her mouth. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “Oh, my God!”

Jimmy had already peeked inside the red bag and was well-aware of what was inside. Thrill Melbow had thought of everything a woman needed to feel like a woman, right down to the underwear and lingerie. “Well, I suppose you should try some of that stuff on,” he said, giving Julie a sly wink. “Just to be sure that it fits.”

Julie smiled impishly. “I think you’re right,” she said, dabbing the tears from her eyes. “There are a few different outfits here. Would you mind if I modeled them for you?”

“Not at all.”

“Do I smell steak?” Bill’s voice cooed from the adjoining door. “Whoa, Julie, you should put some clothes on. Or not. I guess that would be fine, too. Holy shit, where did all of this crap come from?”

Jimmy clenched his teeth; he and Julie exchanged a quick look. Bill stood there, expectantly, in his soiled white t-shirt, flashy bionic leg, and rumpled boxers. He looked like he hadn’t shaved or showered in a week, and his hair stood out in spiky brown tufts.

“Get out,” said Julie. “Here, you take the food cart back with you. Jimmy and I have to get dressed. Go now.”

Bill gave Julie a knowing smile. “I hear you,” he said, nodding his head and flashing Jimmy a quick thumbs-up. “But… what about all of these bags and boxes?”

Jimmy grabbed the food cart and pushed it into Bill’s stomach. “Let me help you with them,” he said. “What is Ken doing?”

“I don’t know,” said Bill, already wheeling the cart through the door. “He’s gone.”

“Oh, shit,” said Julie. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“No, I’m not. I didn’t talk to him, I just smelled the food. What time is it, anyways?”

“Eat and get yourself cleaned up,” said Jimmy. “Take a damn shower and be sure to shave, okay? Everything you need should be in these bags and boxes. When you’re through, pack everything in the duffel bags on the bottom of the cart. Move it; we don’t have a lot of time.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” Bill said, lifting the lid on one of the plates. “Oh, come to papa.”

Jimmy turned and headed back to his room. “Just do what I say, Bill. I mean it. I’m not messing around here. We have to find Ken. We’re not staying here.”

Bill had already taken a bite of steak, lifting it to his mouth like a hamburger. “What do you mean?” he asked, chewing his food like an old cow. “I like it here.”

Jimmy shook his head and closed the door. The moment was gone. Julie was just zipping up a pair of blue jeans.

“You’d better get in the shower,” Julie said.

“I hope they’ve got plenty of cold water,” replied Jimmy. “I’m gonna need it.”

“Very funny. Okay, this is creepy. These clothes fit me as if I bought them myself. How the hell did those people know my sizes? Look, even the shoes are
exactly
my size.”

“Ken seems to think it’s because someone kept track of your credit card purchases and Thrill and his people connected the dots. Those jeans look great on you. I’m not complaining.”

Julie stepped in front of the mirror, turned, and stared at herself over her shoulder. She smiled. “You’d better not complain, buster. I think I look pretty good for a woman my age.”

Jimmy stepped close to Julie, but she gently shoved him toward the bathroom door. “Get in the shower. We’ve got to find Ken.”

Jimmy sighed, realizing that Julie was right. He went into the bathroom and studied his bruised face in the mirror. The swelling had gone down considerably since the day before, and most of the black and blue was fading to a dark green. He’d been pummeled in the ring before and knew that he’d look like his old self in a few days. That didn’t excuse the police for what they had done to him; he had offered no resistance. The thought made him angry, and he became angrier still when he thought of what had happened to Ken and Julie.

Bill was sitting at the table when Jimmy emerged from the bathroom. Bill had his arms crossed at his chest, and his face was as red as a new fire engine. “Nothing fits,” he growled. “This isn’t fair.”

Jimmy caught Julie’s eye. She held her hand over her mouth to hide her amusement and brushed past him, closing the bathroom door behind her. “When was the last time you bought something with a credit card?” Jimmy asked, turning away and pulling a button-up shirt off a hangar.

“How the hell can I remember? I don’t know, five years? They wouldn’t give me any more cards after the bankruptcy.”

“There you have it. You’ve probably gained some weight since then, huh?”

“Yeah, so what? Everybody gains some weight over that many years. Will you please call the front desk for me and see if they’ll exchange this stuff?”

“I don’t think there’s time. Go ahead and call. I’m going to get dressed. Do you mind?”

“Some friend you turned out to be.
Fine
, I’ll call.”

Bill got up from his chair, and Jimmy could see the reason for his anger. The jeans he had on were at least three sizes too small, and the zipper was spread open wide, exposing a chalky white roll of belly. Bill sulked his way to the door and disappeared back into Ken’s room. A moment later, Jimmy could hear him arguing with the desk clerk.

Twenty minutes later, the three of them were standing inside the elevator and heading down to the lobby. Jimmy tried not to look at Bill’s new pants, a pair of bellhop’s maroon slacks, complete with white stripes down the sides. It was the best that could be done on such short notice, and Bill had initially fumed about it. Thankfully, he seemed to have let it go after Julie scolded him for being so selfish. They had bigger fish to fry and very little time to work with. Jimmy loved the way he felt in his new clothes, fresh Levis and a checkered button-up shirt. He could tell Julie was also thrilled with her new clothes. She wore a tan V-neck blouse that tied around the middle and looked like a throwback from the Summer of Love. She had chosen a pair of knee-high leather moccasins that nearly matched the blouse and then quickly braided her hair. The transformation was stunning.

“Keep your eyes open,” Jimmy said for the third time. “Thrill seemed pretty sure that some bad guys are looking for us.”

“Looking for you,” corrected Bill.

Julie groaned and stared up at the floor indicator. A moment later, the doors slid open, and they found themselves staring into a sea of people. Bright lights flooded the interior of the elevator, and cameras flashed from every direction.

“Mr. Logan,” asked an attractive blonde woman with a microphone. “Do you have any comment about President Richter’s remarks at his press conference, this morning?”

“I’m sorry,” Jimmy stammered. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“He called you and Ken Dahlgren a couple of murdering thugs,” the blonde said. Jimmy suddenly recognized her as a local television news anchor. “He also called Ken Dahlgren’s campaign a bad joke. How does that make you feel, Mr. Logan?”

The elevator binged, and the doors silently slid shut.

“Oh, my God,” said Julie. “This is crazy.”

“What do we do?” Jimmy asked.

Bill slapped the button to open the door. “You just watch,” he said, ominously.

“Bill, don’t…” said Julie, but the doors were already opening again, and Bill was brushing past them.

“Mr. Logan thinks President Richter is a jerk,” Bill said, pointing at the blond. “So does Mr. Dahlgren. If he’s got any brains he’ll step aside and let my guys fix the mess he made. Are you happy with the way things are? Do you approve of the new laws they made up? I sure as hell don’t. We’re coming for you, Richter. Do you hear me? You’d better start packing!”

Jimmy gasped and Julie hung her head.

“Excuse me,” a man in sports jacket said. “I didn’t get your name?”

“William Huggins,” Bill said, holding his head high. “I’m Mr. Logan’s best friend. This is Julie Hartman, Jimmy’s woman. Now, if you have any questions, I’d be happy to answer them for you.”

“
William,
” Julie said, we have to get moving. “This should wait for another time. Please,” she said, taking Jimmy by the hand and leading him out of the elevator. “We have to go now. Will you excuse us?”

Jimmy blindly followed Julie into the throng of reporters and clamped his hand around Bill’s bicep as they passed. “Come on,” he hissed into Bill’s ear.

“Do you work for the hotel?” asked another voice.

Bill rolled his eyes as Jimmy violently jerked his arm. “I certainly do not,” he replied, haughtily. “For your information, I am Mr. Logan’s and Mr. Dahlgren’s campaign manager. Look, we really do have to get moving. I’m sorry, that’s all we have for right now.”

“What about President Richter calling you a pair of murdering thugs?” repeated the woman. “Don’t you want to respond to that?”

Jimmy stopped and let go of Bill’s arm and turned to face the cameras. “We defended ourselves, as we had every right to do. President Richter lives in a glass bubble and has no idea what we were up against. Mr. Huggins is right; we the people are coming for him. When you go to the polls, write in Ken Dahlgren on your ballot. Unless you’re happy with the way things are.”