Page 70 of James

She walked into the bar and looked around. Everything seemed to be normal. It wasn’t a seedy smoke-filled dive as she had imagined it would be, just a regular bar. She wondered how she would identify John Smith, but he spotted her right away. He was an imposing man, large and fit. “Ms. Turner, I presume,” he said.

“You must be John Smith. How do you do?” Laura said politely.

“I do fine, thank you.” He added a negligent shrug, dismissing her. “Give me the money and I’ll see you here again next week.”

“Not so fast.” She called on her inner-Suzie and straightened despite her inner turmoil. “I want proof Jake really owed you this money. I’d like to see the IOU, please.”

“You want proof, really? What is this, a set-up?” Smith said. “I don’t carry around paperwork like that.”

“Then you can go get it from wherever you keep it. I’m not giving you five thousand dollars withoutproof I owe it, and for that matter, a receipt,” Laura insisted, although she was shaking inside.

Smith stared at her for a moment, then said, almost politely, “Are you serious with that shit?”

“You better believe I am. As of this moment, I have no proof that I even owe you anything and now you’re telling me you won’t give me proof that I paid even if I do. What’s stopping you from pocketing the cash for yourself and telling your boss I wouldn’t pay?”

“I’m a professional.”

“Then act like one. Write me a receipt and show me the IOU. Surely your boss kept it.”

“Of course he has it. But he doesn’t pull out stuff like that just because someone like you asks to see it.” He sneered at her, like she was an irritating bug instead of a human being.

Keep him talking.“Well, he’d better this time.” She raised her chin and challenged, “Who is your boss, anyway? I think I have a right to know who this money is going to.”

“It’s none of your business who I work for. I’m the one you’ll be dealing with until the money is paid off,” Smith declared. “Now hand it over. I’ll see what I can do about the IOU next week.”

“No.” Laura squared her jaw and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I’ll wait right here while you go and get it.”

“How about I just take the money from you?” He took a threatening step forward.

“In such a public place?” She stood her ground and gritted her teeth. “I’ll start yelling and then where will you be? Because I admit I’m not the gambler my ex-husband was, but I think the odds of your boss having to bail you out of jail are pretty damn strong.”

“It doesn’t do you any good to be seen here with me, either,” Smith tried.

“Why is that?” Laura realized she had him at that point. “This is a perfectly nice place.”

She walked over to the bar and ordered a glass of wine, pointedly ignoring Smith.

A few moments later, she turned around and he was gone. She only hoped the police had understood what she had done and were following him to his boss. In the meantime, she decided to enjoy her drink. God knew she’d earned it.

About half an hour later, Det. Cagney arrived to tell her they had followed Smith to a restaurant owned by Marco Donatelli. They had managed to get someone inside and had seen Smith with Donatelli. This was the break they had been hoping for. Smith was now on his way back. “What made you ask for the IOU? And a receipt? Our recording guy about swallowed his gum when you said that.”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Laura said. “I didn’t know what he would do, but thought it was worth a try.”

“It was quick thinking all right, but try not to have any more good ideas, Ms. Turner. He could have had a gun and taken you with him to Donatelli’s. That would have thrown a real wrench in the works,” Det. Cagney cautioned her. “When he comes back and shows you the IOU, give him the money without any more argument and leave, receipt or no receipt. We’ll handle the rest.”

“Yes, sir.” The honorific slipped easily from her lips, and her longing for James left such an acute ache in herchest, she checked for blood on her shirt. Pulling on her willpower, she focused her attention on the Detective. I’ll be careful and do that.”

Cagney gave her an approving nod and strode away. As he left, she could have sworn she heard a whispered, “Good girl,” but couldn’t tell if it came from the detective, or the memory of James that was always in her heart.

A few minutes later, John Smith walked back into the bar and came to the table where Laura was now sitting. “One IOU,” he said, slapping it down in front of her and sliding into the seat beside her. “Now stop fucking around and give me the money.”

“Just a moment,” Laura said, unfolding it.

The IOU was a sheet of yellow legal paper, with unfamiliar handwriting that read:

This paper represents a debt of $50,000 owed by Jake and Laura Taylor to John Smith, acting as agent for the Garibaldi Import Export Group, Inc. This debt carries an interest rate of 10% per month, compounded.

At the bottom were signatures Jake Taylor and Laura Taylor, in Jake’s handwriting, dated April 23, 2016, and below that, in completely different handwriting from either of the others an addendum had been made:In recognition of Ms. Turner’s loss, as of this date, February 18th, 2019, the interest rate has been adjusted to 5% per month, compounded, with weekly payments of $5000 to be made, applied to the bill outstanding.

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