Hot Shot, page 5
“I guess this will take us into Happy Village. Doesn’t look too bad to me so far. It’s been cleaned up quite a bit from the looks of things. Entrances to communities and the like are important. Landscaping will usually do it,” Jack said, just to have something to say.
Dennis laughed. “I can show you some pictures of before and after. The after still has to be finished, and by that I think it means the landscaping. The before is a little hard to swallow. Rusted-out junk cars, greasy-looking mattresses, old appliances along with all the other junk people just dumped to get rid of it. Now it just looks like flat scrubland. Put in a few trees for shade, some flowering bushes, some hedges, grass, along with a few benches, and you have urban development. I think it will look really nice once it’s all finished.”
Jack kept his eyes on the road. “I think it was Ted, but maybe it was Espinosa, who said that all the cosmetic work is being done by volunteers and that’s why it’s taking so long. Not everyone has a green thumb, was the way he put it. And everyone isn’t into gardening, so what gets done gets done and what doesn’t doesn’t.
“I’m going to find a place to park. Then we’re going to hoof it. Our first stop will be to find Gentry Lomax or Bessie Love to see what they can tell us. Most of these buildings look like town houses to me,” Jack said, eyeing the dwellings in front of him.
“They are. Three floors to each building. Six apartments to each floor, so that means the buildings extend into the back. Eighteen residents to a building. Ten of those buildings in all, which translates into one hundred and eighty residents. Assuming all the apartments are occupied. In addition to those buildings, as you can see, there are four blocks with small ranch houses on them, three on a side, including the corner houses, which adds another thirty-two residents, bringing the total to two hundred and twelve.
“Apparently Cosmo figured that some people would prefer living in a small house rather than an apartment and took that into consideration when he decided to put up this complex. That had to be a pretty massive undertaking on Cosmo’s part to have all this built. Unless he did it slowly, a little bit at a time, and this is the end result. All the apartments are one-bedroom, one-bath units. To discourage coupling, I assume. The houses are only slightly larger but still only one bedroom.” Dennis giggled.
“According to the floor plan, the rooms in the apartment are a good size and they have eat-in kitchens. The bathrooms are all those walk-in kind for the safety of older people. The houses have a larger living room and a dining area separate from the kitchen. I suppose the people who live in the houses figured they would have guests over, maybe their kids and grandkids, and wanted to be able to sit down comfortably for a meal. It’s a good, safe environment as far as I can tell. If Cosmo is responsible for the design, then I’d say he did a good job.”
Jack nodded as he parked the car and turned off the engine. “He put his father here, so yes, I would have to agree. Lizzie said that Zack Meadows’s mother was here also, so I guess that’s why the two of them partnered up. I know that Cosmo’s father passed away a year or so ago, but I don’t know about Zack Meadows’s mother. No one said, or if they did, I missed it.”
The blistering heat immediately attacked the two men after they exited Lizzie’s air-conditioned car. Dennis immediately started to fan himself as sweat beaded on his forehead. The sky overhead was clear blue, and the sun was a bright golden orb in the sky as a flock of scrub jays swarmed down to nestle in a large oak tree at the end of the street before they squawked and descended to a patch of lawn that had a sprinkler throwing water in all directions. “I have this crazy urge to run through that sprinkler,” Dennis admitted, grinning.
“Yeah, me too. No one is out and about,” Jack said. “Guess it’s too hot for any kind of outdoor activity. How do you want to do this, Dennis?”
Cyrus let loose with a sharp bark. We need to get a move on here.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re gonna move, big guy, but first we need to see if there is some kind of central building, an office of some kind, maybe a community center, or at the very least a clubhouse. Let’s walk down to the end of the block and see what’s there. This area looks strictly residential. All the patches of grass are mowed, probably cut with manicure scissors, and the flowers aren’t wilted, so the irrigation system obviously works. The buildings are well cared for, freshly painted—a really nice place, in my opinion,” Jack said as he strode forward, Cyrus at his side.
“Maybe they have a lawn service that comes around once a week. I can’t see senior citizens down on their knees pulling weeds, and I haven’t seen a single weed,” Dennis observed, peering down at the patches of lawn as they moved along.
“It might be my imagination, but I feel eyes on me,” Jack said.
“Yeah, I have the same feeling. I wasn’t going to say anything, thinking it was just my imagination,” Dennis replied, his voice jittery.
“Look, Dennis,” Jack said, pointing to a small plaque by the front door of the last building. “It says OFFICE. Looks like they have an intercom. Let’s give it a whirl.”
Jack marched up the five steps to a long, skinny porch that looked like a runaway rainbow with bright blue morning glories and clematis climbing up the walls and pillars that held up the narrow roof over the porch. There were clay pots full of petunias, Shasta daisies, and impatiens, all of which were thriving even with the brutal summer heat. Jack pressed his thumb on the doorbell and waited. A froggy-sounding voice blasted from the intercom. “Identify yourself.”
“Jack Emery and Dennis West. We’re here at the request of Mrs. Cosmo Cricket,” Jack lied with a straight face. “We’d like to speak to Mr. Gentry Lomax.”
“He isn’t here right now,” the froggy-sounding voice said.
“Is Ms. Love here? Ms. Bessie Love. We can speak with her if that’s possible.”
The froggy voice spoke again. “It’s Mrs. Love, not Ms. Love. And you are speaking with her right now. What is it you want? We have a strict policy here, and we do not open the doors to anyone we don’t know. You need to make an appointment. That’s how we do things here.”
“I can appreciate that, Mrs. Love, but Mrs. Cricket asked me to come here. I don’t think she would appreciate your policy of not cooperating when it concerns her husband, who is fighting for his very life and who owns this complex along with his partner, Zack Meadows. Are you seriously telling me you want me to go back and report this conversation to Mrs. Cricket?”
The bright blue door, the same color as the morning glories climbing over the door frame, opened suddenly—so suddenly that Jack had to take a step back and almost knocked Dennis down the stairs.
“That’s not what I’m saying at all, Mr. Emery,” said a tiny lady in a flowered dress that clashed with all the flowers on the porch, as she motioned for Dennis and Jack to enter the room. Cyrus barked to show he was part of the party. “All right, you can come in too, but do not pee on the carpet.” Cyrus barked twice to show he was offended at the remark.
It was a real office, but it didn’t look as if it got much use. Everything looked new and fresh, and even smelled as if it had just been painted. There were three desks with three bright red, futuristic-looking plastic chairs. A long table held three computers, an all-in-one printer, and a console telephone. Two bright red file cabinets stood next to the long metal table. Obviously, whoever sat at the desks had to slide a chair over to the table if they wanted to use the computers.
Completing the decor was a large, lush, and healthy-looking ficus tree that took up one entire corner of the office. Black-and-white prints of Las Vegas from the early days up to the present adorned the walls. A small television sat on the corner of what Jack assumed was Mrs. Love’s desk and was tuned to a morning game show. Three old-fashioned ledgers were spread open on the long table, with a box of colored pencils next to them. Different-colored pencils were nestled in the open spine of each ledger. Probably some kind of code for the workings of the complex, Jack decided.
“What is it you want, Mr. Emery? Whatever it is, I’m sure I won’t be able to help you. I just fill in here a few hours each day or when Gentry has other things to do. I do it for a reduction in my rent. Gentry is in charge, and I certainly do not want to step out of line.”
“When will Mr. Lomax be back?” Dennis asked, speaking for the first time. He offered up his famous boyish smile, hoping she would respond to him the way that other elderly people did. She did.
“I’m not sure, honey. He just said he had something he had to do and I would see him when I saw him. He told me what he wanted me to do, and that’s what I’ve been doing since I arrived at eight-thirty this morning. I can make an appointment for you for tomorrow if you like.”
Jack took over. “As I’m sure you know, Mr. Cricket is seriously ill. What you may not know is that he had to be taken back into surgery yesterday. He is still in critical condition. Understandably, Mrs. Cricket is at his side and won’t leave, of course. She was told virtually nothing about what happened on that tragic day. She wants to know what happened. That’s why we’re here, Mrs. Love. You live here, so you were here when the shooting happened. You must know something.”
“Well, of course the poor thing wants to know. I do, too. Everyone does. The thing is, we don’t know anything; none of us do. I was napping that day because I wanted to stay up to see the guest Mr. Hannity had on his show that night. As far as I know, and all of us talked about it afterward in a special meeting Gentry called, not one of us knew anything had happened until after the fact. When the weather is as hot as it has been, in the upper nineties, we all pretty much stay indoors until the sun goes down. The air-conditioning units more or less drown outside noise, if you know what I mean.
“We only became aware that something was wrong when the ambulances and the police cars showed up with their sirens blaring. That’s when we all ran out to see Mr. Cricket lying in the road. The police questioned all of us, but there was nothing we could tell them. I’m truly sorry about that. Mr. Cricket is a lovely man, and he takes care of this complex as if he lived here. His father used to live here, so that might have something to do with it. He held Gentry’s job for a while, but that was all before I came to live here.”
“What about Mr. Meadows?” Dennis asked, again paired with his boyish, winning smile.
She tilted her head to the side as she thought about the question. “I don’t think I’ve seen Mr. Meadows more than five or six times in the two years I’ve lived here. I do know that the other tenants said he used to come quite often. But like I said, that was before I moved in. He doesn’t attend our annual Christmas party or our Fourth of July festivities. Mr. Cricket and his wife and son always come. Sometimes Mr. Cricket plays Santa Claus. That’s always a fun evening.”
“What can you tell us about the gangs around here? Do you all think they had something to do with Mr. Cricket’s shooting?” Dennis asked.
The little gray-haired lady in the flowered dress eyeballed Dennis for a moment before she responded. “Now, that is something you have to talk to Gentry about. If you’re talking about the Cavaliers and Lionel, we don’t consider them a gang. Lionel and his friends patrol and protect this complex, and one reason for that is that Lionel’s mother lives here. I know Lionel, and neither he nor his friends would do anything like that.”
“If they aren’t a gang, what are they?” Dennis asked, going into reporter mode.
“Just . . . just Lionel and his friends. Someone said there are twelve of them altogether. Young men, early twenties. They’re always nicely dressed, they don’t use bad language. Very respectful. Lionel looks out for his mother, who is a really sweet lady. He brings her food, buys her presents, and sometimes takes her out for a ride on Sunday afternoon. Or he’ll take her to one of the casinos to play the slot machines for an hour or so. He’s a good son. Much better than my own son, I’m sorry to say.” Her eyes suddenly filled with tears, which Jack and Dennis pretended not to see. But not Cyrus, who stepped forward and wrapped his front paws around the little woman’s shoulders. He woofed softly to show he understood.
“Oh, what a sweet doggie you are,” Mrs. Love said, stroking Cyrus’s head. That was enough for Cyrus. He backed away and dropped to his haunches next to Jack. Sweet doggie indeed.
“Do they work? Do Lionel and his friends have jobs?” Jack asked.
Mrs. Love threw her hands in the air. “I have no idea. I just assumed—now mind you, no one said this, it’s just my opinion—but I more or less thought they were on Mr. Cricket’s payroll. I suppose I could be wrong. I just don’t know. Just so you know, we here at Happy Village might be old, but we do not—I repeat, we do not—gossip.”
“What about the other group, gang, whatever they are?” Dennis asked.
“Ah, yes, the Scorpions. They are a bad group. This whole area used to belong to them, at least that’s what they claim. They had to . . . I guess you would say relocate, to a less desirable area. They make trouble whenever they can. They have guns. Their leader is someone named Alonzo. There are a lot of them, and they ride motorcycles up and down the roads here in the middle of the night. They throw rocks at our windows, strew their trash all over our lawns. Sometimes they shoot their guns off. By the time the police come, they’re always gone. Someone said that Lionel told Gentry they have over twenty members and that a lot of them are girls. Don’t know if any of that’s true, it seems unlikely, but that’s what I heard.
“You really need to speak with Gentry about all of this. I’m sorry I cannot be more help. Tell me this, if you know. How is Mr. Cricket? Please tell his wife we’re all praying for her husband’s recovery. He’s such a good man.”
“We’ll do that. We’ll come back tomorrow, probably late morning. One last thing. Do you know how many people live here in this complex?”
Mrs. Love pointed to the open ledgers on her desk. “I was working on that when you arrived. We have room for 212 people. We were full as of December of last year, with a small waiting list. We’re down to 192 now. We have applications pending. We thoroughly vet all the applicants, and it does take a while; but it’s worth the wait, as everyone says. This is a wonderful place to live, with people just like you.”
“Where did the other twenty people go?” Jack asked.
Mrs. Love shook her head. “That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. I don’t know. No one knows. They just left. Not all at once but over a seven-month period. It’s worrisome, I can tell you that. No good-byes. They were just gone. Gentry had a call in to Mr. Cricket to discuss it. I’m not sure, but I think that’s why Mr. Cricket was here that day, to talk about it.”
“Well, thank you, Mrs. Love,” Jack said. “We appreciate your taking the time to talk to us. We’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I’ll put you down in Gentry’s appointment book. You all have a nice day; you too, you sweet, handsome doggie,” Bessie said as she stroked Cyrus’s big head. Cyrus woofed his thanks for the compliment and the ear rub. Handsome was good, and he could overlook the sweet doggie bit.
On the way back to the hotel, Dennis kept up a running commentary on their visit with Bessie Love. “I think she’s just who she says she is. I didn’t get the impression she was withholding information. She seemed open and aboveboard to me. Mr. Lomax might know more, but I wouldn’t bet any money on it. What she said about Mr. Meadows did jar me a bit. I felt like I had an itch I needed to scratch when she said he doesn’t go there much. I’m wondering what his total share is on that investment. Do we know anything about him? Like what does he do at the Gaming Commission? Is he Cosmo’s right hand, his assistant, or are they just in this venture together as partners and his job at the GC is just a job? If he’s a partner, where did the money come from? I think we need to know a lot more about Meadows. What do you think, Jack?”
“I agree with everything you just said. It’s weird, but I got the same itch you did, and I’m not even a reporter. I wish Cyrus could talk so he could tell us his opinion.”
The big shepherd woofed, then woofed again. “I think he’s agreeing with both of us,” Jack said. Cyrus woofed again. “Confirmed,” Jack said.
Dennis nibbled on his lower lip as he squinted at the bright sunshine flooding the car. “There was one other thing that brought me up short. What did you think about the twenty people leaving? Mrs. Love said she thought that Cosmo and Mr. Gentry Lomax were going to discuss the twenty people who had left and that it was worrisome. Seven months is a long time not to question why that many people would suddenly up and leave without telling anyone. In this kind of environment, you would think elderly people look out for one another rather than wait seven months to do something, even if that something is just discuss possibilities among themselves. I don’t like it when I can’t come up with an answer.” The young reporter’s voice was so fretful, Jack found himself wincing as though in pain.
“That’s something we need to talk about, but with who I have no idea. Cosmo is in no condition to talk to us, at least not right now. Lizzie doesn’t seem to know anything about the workings of Happy Village. That leaves us to do our own research or possibly have a face-to-face with Zack Meadows. I don’t mind telling you that I’m a little ticked that he hasn’t responded to the three phone messages I left,” Jack said.
“Let’s call him again and see what happens,” Dennis suggested.
Jack took his right hand off the steering wheel to dig in his pocket for his cell phone. He tossed it to Dennis. “Go ahead, make the call, and if it goes to voice mail, tell him we just left Happy Village, where we spoke to Mrs. Love, and it’s imperative we meet and speak with him, on Mrs. Cricket’s orders.”
Dennis did as instructed. The cell phone on the other end rang four times before it went to voice mail. He held out the phone so Jack could hear the cryptic message and what the caller should do if they wanted to leave a message. Dennis left a precise, detailed message stressing the importance of a return call at Mr. Meadows’s earliest convenience. He ended the call and handed the phone back to Jack. “I don’t think we should hold our breath waiting for a return call. I’ll take that one step further and go out on a limb and say I think the guy is avoiding us. The question is, why?”
