Page 68 of James

“Sure, I take it black”

Laura nodded and waited as Detective Cagney walked away to fetch her coffee. She turned to Detective Stone, her curiosity piqued. “He seems marvelous, but what did he mean about helping each other?” She didn’t miss how Det. Stone’s eyes lingered on the man’s broad back. Laura couldn’t fault the woman for that, or for her gaze dropping to the man’s taut ass.

Det. Stone cleared her throat, all business again. “He’ll explain in just a minute. I think it’s going to be okay,” she reassured Laura.

Det. Cagney took a seat at the table, placing the coffee in front of Laura. “One coffee, black, as ordered.”

She gratefully took a sip, feeling its warmth soothing her nerves. As the taste of the bitter brew danced on her tongue, Det. Cagney began to explain the situation. His voice was steady and determined, mirroring his unwavering gaze.

“First, your loan collector’s name really is John Smith. He’s also more than a collector. We’ve been trying to get him and his boss’s operation for quite a few years now. Unfortunately, it’s difficult to get people to testify in these kinds of cases. Sometimes there’s witness intimidation, other times the evidence is too thin,” he explained. “Paula doesn’t think you’re the kind of person who intimidates easily, so I’m hopeful we can solve our problems together.”

Det. Stone nodded. Laura listened intently, her eyes fixed on Det. Cagney as he continued.

“We think his boss is a man named Marco Donatelli, but we haven’t been able to prove anything. Donatelli isrelatively small-time, but he has his hands in multiple rackets in town: gambling, loan sharking and prostitution. If we can get Smith, we hope to squeeze him to give up Donatelli. For that, we’re going to need your help.” Det. Cagney stated. “Paula says he made contact with you last night, is that correct?”

Laura nodded, confirming the details. “Yes, he called and told me I was responsible for gambling debts my ex-husband ran up after we divorced. He said he would call back in a few days to tell me where to bring the money. He wants five thousand a week on a debt of a hundred thousand. At an interest rate of five percent a month, which he claims is generous because I’m a widow, of all things.”

“Okay, I’d like permission to put a track and trace on your phone so we can get a record of future calls. The trace is unlikely to get us anywhere because these guys use disposable phones. But you never know, and the recordings will help as evidence,” Det. Cagney continued.

Laura quickly agreed and turned over her phone to the detective, who said he would return it to her in a couple of hours. He also gave her his card with his personal cell number on it and instructions to call him any time. He reminded her a little bit of James, with his confidence and strength.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Laura's days passed in a haze of unease and loneliness. James’s absence weighed heavily on her heart, yet she remained steadfast in her decision to keep her distance. The constant questions from her father and Suzie only served as reminders of what she was trying to avoid.

Every time they brought up the subject, Laura's stomach tightened. She knew that her family cared about her and wanted to help, but the thought of reaching out to James was unbearable. It felt like a betrayal to herself, a surrender of her independence and pride.

After one of their family gatherings, her dad broached the topic once again. “Laura, I really think you should consider calling James. He's a good man and he cares about you,” he urged.

Laura felt her frustration rise. “Dad, I appreciate your concern, but I've made my decision. I don't want to involve James in this. Please, let's drop the subject,” she pleaded.

Suzie, ever the persistent sister, joined in the conversation. “You know he's always been there for you. Hesupported you during the tough times with Jake. Don't you think he would want to help you now?”

Laura's patience waned. “Sis, I've asked you before, and I'm asking again. Please, stop bringing up James. I need to figure this out on my own. I can't rely on someone else to solve my problems,” she asserted, but her voice trembled. Realizing the toll the conversation was taking on her, Laura made a firm promise. “If either of you mention James again, I’m leaving. I need space and time to work through this on my own. I love you both, but please respect my decision.”

The silence that followed her words weighed heavily on her, amplifying her sense of isolation. Laura longed for James's comforting presence, his unwavering support, and the reassurance he always brought. But stubbornness held her back, locking her in a self-imposed solitude.

“Okay, okay.” Suzie held out her hands as if Laura pointed a gun her way. “We’ll let it go.” She exchanged a glance with their dad, who just shook his head, sadly.

Days turned into nights, and Laura tried her best to maintain a semblance of normalcy, pushing aside thoughts of James and the turmoil that surrounded her.

Then, on a Thursday night, as Laura found herself lost in her thoughts, the piercing ring of the phone cut through the silence of her empty home. Her heart skipped a beat, as anticipation and trepidation flooded her senses. With trembling hands, she picked up the phone and answered, “Hello?”

The familiar voice on the other end of the line greeted her with those two dreaded words, “Mrs. Taylor?”

With a deep breath, Laura steadied herself and forced herself to confront the shadows she had been trying so hard to avoid.

“Is that you, Mr.Jones? Do you have a problem calling people by their correct names?”

Silence ensued on the other end of the line, then Smith grated out a nasty chuckle. “All right, all right. Mrs. Turner, then. You’ve made your point. I want you to bring the money to The Frog on Wornall Rd., south of 55thSt., Saturday night, nine o’clock.”

Laura immediately objected. “You’ve got to be kidding. That’s the other side of town and I don’t have a car.”

“I’m sure you can find a way to get there. You won’t like the consequences if you don’t.”

Unwilling to back down, Laura pressed her point. “I don’t owe you a damn thing. What Jake did after we divorced is not my problem. I don’t care what you and your boss think. And it’s ‘Ms.’ not ‘Mrs.’ for your information.”

“We’ve been through this already,Ms.Turner,” he sneered. “Your name is on the IOU, whether you put it there or not. It’s your debt now.”

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