Brokenhearted in Bakersfield

71 - A SHOT IN THE DARK

Maggie glanced at me sideways.  “You couldn’t take a quiet little presidency at some little out-of-the-way subsidiary of RobbinsYUZ, could you?  Noooo, you gotta get us right smack into the middle of this crappy Broken Heart Park franchise, including the Kartone mob.”

All I could think of was how hot my Maggie looked.

“Well, good thing for you, I’ve got a plan.  And this one’s a killer.”

“Where are we going, Maggie?”

“We’re going back to my place.”  She wheeled into the Jasmine Crevasse parking lot and brought her car to a screeching stop.  She turned in her seat to face me.  “Honeypot,” she patted my knees, “try to forget about your job for a little while, and come with me.  I’ve got another job for you.”

“You do?”  I got out.  “Heck, Maggie, I thought I was gonna have my first power lunch with you.”

She came around the car and took me by the arm (which was still smarting from my encounter with the Kartone Boys) and she forcefully led me to her front door.  There on the counter was a Starving Man-sized bucket of fried chicken from El Loco Pollo (“Only a Rooster Gets a Better Piece o’ Chicken”) and a box of Raw Dog Pizza.  And so help me, there was even two six-packs and a family-sized bottle of NyQuil™.

I got the feeling Maggie really meant business.

Floating past the counter she grabbed the bucket and smiled over her shoulder, “I’m going into the other room to slip into nothing.”  Her long brown hair seductively hid one big brown eye.  “Why don’t you bring the cocktails and I’ll show you that little job I want you to do.”

The next thing I knew, I was getting the shaking of a lifetime.

“Commmme oooonnn, waaaake uuuppp.”

Maggie’s voice pulled me from a deep, deep sleep, and it was her doing all that shaking.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop it.  Okay, I’m up.  I’m awake now, see?”  I rubbed my eyes.

“Get up and get dressed,” Maggie shouted as she tossed me some clothes.  “There’s been a shooting.  In Broken Heart Park.  We’ve got to get out there right away.  Hurry up and get dressed.”

I could see Maggie had her coat on and was already set to go.

“A shooting?  In Broken Heart Park?”  As I got one leg into my jeans and tried to jam one in the other, I assured her, “Probably some good ol’ boy shooting out windows, that’s all.  Happens all the time.”  I tucked in my shirt.  “Maybe it’d be safer if we just stayed here.  There’s some wings and beer left.”

I thought for a second Maggie was liable to slap me across my face.  Instead she reported, “Sheriff Al and Deputy Perro have been shot.”

“How’d you hear all this?”

Maggie seemed to freeze for a second.  “There was a phone call.  Don’t you remember?”  She fiddled with the sleeve of her coat.  “It woke us both up.”

“Huh?  Oh yeah, I guess.  Hey, where’s my other shoe?”  I skipped toward the door with only one shoe on.  I saw my shoe on the kitchen counter and snatched it just in time as Maggie shoved me out the door.

“Let’s go,” she said.

Semi-coherent but totally resolute as the authorized Park Manager, I seated myself in the passenger’s side of Maggie’s car and fastened my seat belt.

Pedal pushed firmly to metal, we were back at Broken Heart Park before I got all my buttons buttoned.  A whole bunch of lights was flashing, and people was standing around in housecoats and robes and underwear.  Maggie and me broke through the crowd.  We could see Joe Plato wildly gesturing to a cop as they stood near the lifeless bodies of two uniformed figures.

Maggie and me approached the scene and overheard Joe speaking, “Like I was saying, I shot Sheriff Al, but I did not shoot the Deputy.”

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