CHARLIE HEART

CHAPTER TWELVE: TOMMY

TOMMY

         Tommy and I met about a year ago when he was commissioned to break into my home, tap my cell phone and slip bugs into my rooms.
         Apparently a family I was stealing a policy from wanted to document my conversations in order to catch me saying something they could use against me in court.
         They never got me to court; they never even got the bugs in.
         I caught Tommy sneaking through one of my windows at night. I tackled him and we beat the crap out of each other for about an hour. After we were both exhausted and half dead I told him I would pay him double if he took the bugs and put them into a couple hospital rooms for me.
         ‘Triple’ he tells me.
         I say I’ll quadruple his pay if he tells me how he got in through my high powered lock and safety-sensor system. It’s the best security out there.
         He tells me that breaking and entering is just like meeting a woman for the first time. You say, do, and buy the right things, eventually she’ll open up on her own. This makes me like Tommy.
         Tommy looks like that one skinny black guy in every horror film that always gets eaten first. The one you never realize is gone until someone says, ‘where did Lamar go?’ and his head ends up rolling out of no where all covered in fake blood just before the villain reveals himself.
         We ended that night talking about his divorce. How she dumped him for implanting a voice simulator inside their neighbor’s dog’s vocal cords that would shout dirty words when ever the dog barked. The owners were so terrified that their dog could not only speak suddenly, but that it had Turrets Syndrome.
         I told Tommy he was a genius. Electronic sound and touch systems, robotics, bio chemical engineering, micro chips, macro chips, fish and chips, explosives, what ever. He did it all. After that, Tommy worked for me, exclusively, or so I thought.
         He showed me his whole line of inventions and black market accolades, he was my go to guy whenever I needed anything out of the ordinary done. Bruce usually helped me out with the legal stuff. Tommy, the other stuff.
         “I’m here to visit a Thomas Lamar.”
         The ugly security guard chews his pink gum like a champ. An expert gum chewing six grade girl. He blows the bubble just the right size and when it pops it makes me blink.
         “Arms out please.”
         Pop.
         He scans me with a metal detector.
         “Alright, you’re clear, go on through.”
         Pop.
         I sit down at a window desk. Tommy is already sitting there behind the glass. I pick up the wall phone.
         “Been a while Tommy,” I say.
         “Hey, Boss.”
         I say, “how are you?”
         He tilts his head. Sarcastically, he asks, “Really?” he smiles. “Well, you know what they say about dropping the soap?”
         I smile.
         “It’s not true, when ever someone drops it we all just look around at each other and start laughing. Then the one who drops it gets spanked all day long.”
         I think to myself, Bruce would love jail.
         “How’ve you been, Boss?”
         I take in a deep breath. “Well, I got thrown out of the house today.”
         Tommy asks, “What, you’ve been cheating or something?”
         “No, but you’ve been cheating on me,” I say. “What happened to working exclusively?”
         Tommy looks at me confused then laughs a short laugh. He shakes his head then starts to say something when I cut him off.
         I say, “Caught with explosives, huh? ”
         He looks smug. “How’d you know about that?”
         “Like I said, I got thrown out of a house today.”
         He squints his eyes, leans forward, then notices the cuts on my face and half my suit coat sleeve is burnt off. His jaw drops. He starts laughing. A deep belly laugh like Bruce’s, but I like Bruce’s better.
         “Someone is always after your throat, aren't they? You’re always walking the line, Charlie. I don’t know how you’ve made it this far.”
         I’m not amused. “Who paid you, Tommy? Who wanted it?”
         He shakes his head. “I don’t know the name, Boss.” He laughs a little bit. “I do, however, know that it’s a ‘she,’ and she likes secrecy. She works at a nuclear power plant and I used to buy certain chemical compounds from her under the table for my experiments. All I’ve ever seen are the initials G.J., that’s it.”
         Well, that confirms that it’s Ginger. I was expecting that. Selling under the table though? I did not expect that. who is this girl? I obviously don’t know her.
         Tommy continues. “Oh, and she always sent this hot young white chick named Cassie Conrad over to take and deliver my orders, thats all I know.
         My jaw drops. Cassie? My Cassie?Ginger and Cassie know each other?
         Tommy continues. “I bet Cassie would tell me who G.J. is.”
         I make an exhausted sound and my face ends up pressed into my hands again.
         “Man, you should meet this Cassie girl,” Says Tommy. “She is one wild ride.” He makes a sound a chef makes after he tastes his own gourmet soup. “She is a beauty.”
         I want to throw up again, why am I not surprised.
         Tommy starts again. “Then one day Cassie gives me a letter from this G.J. person. It said she needed help. It said she wanted a few explosives made for her and...”
         “A few?”
         “Yah, which is strange because Cassie disappeared after that and a new guy brings over a package full of equipment and tools to make the bombs. This ugly little red headed kid. I don’t know his name though.
         “A Red headed kid, did he blink a lot?”
          Tommy looks at me funny, “yah, ugly little...wait, you know him?”
         “It doesn’t matter. So you just did what this G.J. person wanted? No questions asked?”
         Tommy shakes his head in defense.“I refused at first, then they tossed over ten grand. You know I’m always broke, Charlie. He looks at me like I should understand his rationalization.
         I’m starting to get a major headache now.
         “I don’t know what this G.J. chick is up to but it’s definitely something big,” says Tommy “I was commissioned to build five exothermic micro reactors.”
         He looks at me like I should know what those are. I shake my head.
         “I’m the only one within a hundred miles with the know how on those. They are the really small and compact kind that make the really big booms, but I only got three to her before I got caught.”
         “Three?”
         He puckers his lips to one side and nods.
         I sit back in the chair and think. Then something Cassie said to me stands out in my mind. She said her apartment blew up. That’s why she had to go rescue her clothes and cigarettes. Was that one of Tommy’s bombs? I don’t know, but somewhere I do know that Ginger has at least one or two more bombs floating around.
         “Did she ever say why she wanted them? Why she wanted to kill me? What about Cassie, did she say anything?” I’m starting to lose my cool. I never lose my cool.
         “Boss, if I knew that I would have to told you already.”
         That is the question that keeps rolling around. Why is all this happening?
         Why?
         Why?
         Why?
         I sit back in my chair again an my mind starts to do the math. Again, when I’m done with computing the problems, the answer always seems to be me ending up dead. Or in a coma. Or worse.
         You now realize that you are surrounded by dark mist. A potent creeping darkness that starts to eat away your skin cells as it touches you. You realize the world is a giant hearse and your body is a coffin.
         For the past five minutes Tommy has been blabbing about the air quality in the jail. He says they are seeping a calming agent in through the vents to prevent excitement. He is says that it just makes the home improvement channel a thousand times more boring, but I’m not listening.
         I cut him off.
         “I need your help, Tommy.”
         I stops. “Well, I would love to help, Boss, but as you can see I’m in somewhat of a predicament.”
         “You owe me thirty grand,” I say.
         Tommy looks confused. “What for?”
         “I just bailed you out.”
         His eyes burst wide open.
         “I’ll be waiting outside,” I say.
         I stand up and walk away, I can hear Tommy shouting and singing through the glass. My head is throbbing now, I think it’s crossing over into migraine territory.
         Ginger.
         Ginger.
         Ginger.
         You are a meal waiting for to be devoured. You are an antelope and she is a tiger. She is a bomb and you are the boom.