An Absence of Trust Pt. 02

"No problem, Billy," Junior replied, "Man, I owe you. This one's on the house."

"Thanks Junior, but," I said, "make sure you send me a bill."

We discussed a few more details and made arrangements to get the keys to Rich's place.

Okay, that was one thing to check off the list.

I answered some voicemails and made a few phone calls about the restaurant. At least everything involved with the restaurant was going in the right direction.

While powering through my list of 'to-do's' I received a text from Maddie:

'Call me when you have a minute'

Despite all the negative things happening my spirits buoyed at the thought of talking to Maddie. I sat for a moment and thought. It was not more than a few weeks ago I had no thoughts of Maddie. I'd buried that bad chapter of my life once and for all I'd thought.

But just hearing her voice brought back so many good feelings and memories. I realized I still cared about her. If we ever got to a particular point with any type of revitalized new relationship, I'd need to examine the trust issues and we'd need to have a very serious conversation.

I shook my head, getting way too far ahead of myself, I thought. Then I called her.

"Hi Billy," she began, and then quickly started to explain her thoughts about the plan for the business.

"We need to separate the freight business from the real estate rentals. The rental is controlled by your property management company and as far as I can see, Leslie is making no claim on this part of the business.."

She went on to tell me that as far as the Mettke side goes, I, as the building owner, would have to take physical possession of the building.

"Otherwise Bart Mathers could drag this out for many months And from what I know of him, he will." She told me. "That would give them the opportunity to drain cash and assets out of the business until things became settled legally."

When she finished I was silent. Despite the positive feelings of talking to Maddie, suddenly the stress of the last week and all the events had exhausted me.

"Billy?" She asked, "Billy, are you still there?"

"Yeah Maddie," I answered after a moment with an exhalation of breath. "I'm here. It's just so much has happened... "

I didn't complete my thought.

"What else?" She asked.

And then I told her about Rich and Dallas. She paused and then replied.

"Look Billy, I have some time," she said, "you shouldn't be alone right now. What time is it," she paused, "1:45, have you had lunch?"

I hesitated not replying.

"I'll be there in 20 minutes, half an hour tops, I'll grab something to go."

Before I'd had a chance to reply I realized she'd already hung up.

I sat in my living room worried about Dallas. Rich too. I was also worried about the business. The very idea of that fucking Leslie taking advantage of my brother infuriated me. And then there was Hartoonian. The smug attitude and the thought that he set my brother and Dallas up to be beaten got me more steamed.

Just then the doorbell rang, it was Maddie.

Despite my anger and worry Maddie's sheer presence cut through my emotional fog like the beacon from a lighthouse.

Without thinking or saying a word I enveloped her in a tight hug, craving the comfort of her body. I think I completely surprised her with my actions. Once we separated she just looked at me with a perplexed expression trying to gauge my actions.

"Sorry," I chuckled and apologized, "I guess I just needed you at that moment."

Once again she stared at me, trying to understand.

Quickly Maddie walked into the dining room and set the food she brought on the table.

"So tell me a little more detail about what's going on?" She asked.

We discussed the attack and then the legal part of the issue.

"As I said," she began, "if you could take physical presence of the Mettke Building and even, at least temporarily run the freight business that would be the best case scenario. Mathers has taken a little bit of slightly ambiguous language in the original contract and is trying to hang his hat legally about the company ownership, including the building."

"There is no way this would stand up in a court of law, but they could do quite a bit of damage in the meantime before we ever got before a judge."

We sat and discussed the issues until we reached a point when there was nothing left to say about the matter at hand. And then there was a slightly uncomfortable pause. Finally Maddie met my eyes.

"Billy," she began but hesitated, "last time, when we were together," she paused again, "you said some pretty confusing things to me..."

"Maddie, I, " I began, and she held up a hand, gesturing to me to be quiet.

"And it scared me. Billy, I've never stopped caring for you and I've never stopped blaming myself for all the problems that ended our marriage." She told me.

"So when you say nice things to me, it encourages me that there may be some kind of chance. And if there isn't, I don't think it would be healthy for me to be around you." Now a single tear coursed down her cheek.

I sat for the moment thinking. She was right, I could not play games with her. It wasn't fair for her or for me.

"Maddie, I understand," I began, "and for a long time I was so angry at you, but, I hope time has helped to soothe some of that wound. I don't know," I said, "but I do know this. I still care about you and I've enjoyed it when I've seen you. I can't promise anything, but if you're willing I'd like to see what happens."

She sat silently staring at me. I could tell her brain was working, weighing pros and cons, judging the emotional risk. Finally she shifted into attorney mode, practical and confident.

"We'll see." She said, "in the meantime we need to get you and Rich through this legal mess."

She packed her stuff to go and stood up and walked to the front door. She had shifted so abruptly from emotional to business like it surprised me. I stumbled after her.

"Wait a second Maddie," I said and she turned toward me, "thank you," I told her and opened my arms up gesturing for a hug.

She stopped, paused, and then smiled and hugged me back.

"I think we have a lot to talk about," I said to her as she walked away.

My thoughts were confused after Maddie had gone. I revisited the sensitive sore spots that ended our marriage. Her father, Tiffee, and the political campaign. But beyond that I was still so terribly attracted to her, both physically and emotionally.

Every time I imagine my long term future it includes being married and hopefully having a family. I could think of no one better than Maddie that could fill that role with me. I thought of Chrissy and Bambi, and though both had their own particular qualities, neither measured up to Madeline.

Lost in thought I heard the rumbling vibration of my phone. I'd silenced it before Maddie arrived.

A missed call from David Greenstein and three missed calls from Richie, and a text message.

'Billy, get down here, hurry'. It was Richie.

I tried to call him as I drove to the hospital, everything went to voicemail. When I got there I rushed down the hospital hallway to Richie's room. I noticed a uniformed Seattle policeman as I hurried past. I also noticed the same rough looking guy who'd been in the critical care waiting lounge I had seen the day before.

I burst into Rich's room and noticed a suited man standing on the far side of the room and then there was Rich. He looked upset, as if he'd been crying.

"Richie, what, what happened?" I asked as I hurried to his bedside.

"Dallas." He began, "It's Dallas. He," he hesitated and choked up, "Dallas is dead." He finally told me and broke down in tears.

I stood there stunned. Dallas!? Dallas was invincible. I thought of all my times with him and the stories both he and Rich told about their time in Iraq. Based on what I'd heard he was a full blown war hero. And now some cheap thug had taken his life. My sadness was turning to anger.

"Mr Damon?" the stranger on the far side of the room interjected, "Detective Pappas, Seattle Police." He introduced himself. "Can I get a word with you?" He said and lightly gripped my elbow and steered me out of the room.

He asked me what I knew of the events between my brother, his wife, Dominic Hartoonian, and the night Rich and Dallas visited the Mettke building.

I relayed to him what I knew, which wasn't much, and I told him of my suspicions concerning Hartoonian.

"But you have no specific proof of any actions by Mr Hartoonian?" He asked.

"Nothing," I said, "but I know that son of a bitch was involved."

He nodded and then asked a few more questions as we slowly walked through the lobby. I noticed that same tough looking guy in the waiting lobby. This time there was another guy with him. Same wind blown, serious expression, but this guy was taller with a shaved head, light beard and tanned from exposure to the sun. Their eyes followed me as Detective Pappas and I walked past.

That evening I brought Richie back to my place. He was still rightfully upset about the death of his best friend. We talked, reminisced, and laughed about the good times.

I told Rich I had one of Junior's guys taking care of his house and that he should stay with me for now. With his injuries and fragile emotional state this was the best situation.

The following morning, contrary to what I had advised Rich, I went down to the Mettke building. Walking through the main floor I noticed several men I didn't know hanging around the main floor freight loading area, smoking. They didn't look like they were workers. Their eyes followed me as I walked up the stairs to the mezzanine.

Entering the office it looked like business as usual. Leslie was at her desk talking on the phone looking at her computer screen. The door to the dispatch office was open but so far, I had not seen Hartoonian.

"What are you doing here?" Leslie asked me without preamble as she hung up.

"What am I doing here!?" I asked, my voice rising. "We'll number one, I own this building and all those trucks," I said pointing vaguely down the stairs, "and number two I came down here just to see what murderers look like up close."

Leslie could not look me in the eye at my accusation. Certainly she must have heard about Dallas, either on the news or perhaps from Detective Pappas.

She stayed silent but I quickly noticed Hartoonian arms crossed leaning into the doorway from the dispatch office. The same smug, innocent look on his face.

"Our deepest condolences on the loss of your friend," he began falsely sympathetic. "Such a strange coincidence that this all happened so close to our building."

So many things angered me about this guy. The fake condolence, the smirking confidence, and the proprietary reference to 'our building'.

"Listen, you son of a bitch," I began moving toward Hartoonian, "I know you were involved and I'm going to... "

I didn't finish my thought as two rough looking large asshole's emerged from the dispatch office. Their hostile confrontational glare stopped me in my tracks. Give me either one of them one on one and I was all in, but three against one, that was a losing proposition.

I studied the two guys for a moment. Both had the slightly foreign, Eastern European look. Similar to Hartoonian, but these guys were big. Not the lean look of Dom, more brute strength than finesse..

"Billy," Leslie said quietly, "just go. Please?"

I noticed the slightest hint of compassion. Perhaps she'd gotten in too deep with this group. I then noticed a non verbal stern look from Hartoonian flash toward Leslie. As if to silence her. She quickly retreated into a silent, passive demeanor

"In the future," Hartoonian taunted, "it would be best for you to make an appointment to see me before you just drop in. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a business to run."

I heard one of the thugs laugh. Angered and embarrassed I walked back down the stairs. I noticed a couple of the guys I'd seen on the way in out on the floor near the door I entered. This time they were closer and tighter to my exit path.

I maneuvered around one guy and the next guy gave me a shoulder. He was smaller and lighter but it stopped me for a moment. I turned, wheeled around and gave the guy who'd shouldered me a hearty shove. Quickly I was surrounded by these four assholes.

Just as I thought the fight would begin I heard a single unintelligible word from Hartoonian leaning out of the office. The guys glanced up and then reluctantly backed away, giving me the eye.

Later at home, still angry, I thought of Madeline's advice. How in the world was I going to physically take possession of my building with that gang taking up residence there?

Rich was still upset, grieving for his friend. The violent way it all happened enhanced the sense of violation and loss. Rich had tried to get more information from Pappas, he was told the investigation was 'ongoing'.

I pondered the dilemma I was faced with. There were a series of issues. Foremost was justice for Dallas. This was out of our hands legally. We had to let the police do their job and hope that something breaks. So far I was not optimistic.

The next thing was the business. Legally Leslie and Hartoonian had the majority shares combined. Plus they had a sleazy lawyer, and possession of the building.

Finally there was Rich's marriage to Leslie. I could not imagine a situation in which he could possibly reconcile. The relationship with Hartoonian was a dealbreaker not to mention the likely connection to the assault that led to Dallas's murder.

I thought about the situation and then suddenly I had an idea. Maybe Junior and Clarence's company and his employees could persuade Hartoonian and his goons out of the building. I would then take possession and begin the process of wrestling the business back from Hartoonian.

I called Junior.

We met and I explained my plan. Junior and Clarence were both friends of Dallas and were aware of the circumstances of his murder. Right off I could tell that they were not as enthusiastic as I had hoped.

"Who are these guys again?" Junior asked.

I explained what I knew about Hartoonian and his crowd. Clarence interrupted.

"I know who you talking about," Clarence began, "them are some bad dudes."

We sat and discussed the situation. They finally agreed to get three or four of their guys and go check out the situation at Mettke Freight Friday morning. I thanked them and told Junior I wanted him to bill me.

Despite all this negativity there was some good news. I heard directly from Preston Phuong. The construction was nearly complete on the restaurant, Sampan. There was an invitation-only grand opening. The planned event will be widely publicized to announce to the area that the business is officially open and ready for business. It was scheduled for a week from Saturday.

That night Maddie called. I'd wanted to talk to her but so much was going on. She offered her condolences for Dallas. We talked about that for a while and then drifted into the legal issues surrounding the business, Rich and Leslie.

"I can begin the process of eviction," she told me, "but as we discussed, this will not happen quickly. I'm sure Bart Mathers will tie this up as long as possible. There is no doubt we'll get the building back. The question is, how soon."

I told her I understood and to start the process. There was one more thing I needed to talk to her about.

"Are you available a week from Saturday?" I asked and explained about the restaurant opening.

There was silence on the line.

"Maddie?" I asked, wondering if she was still there.

"Yes," she finally replied. "I'm here."

I repeated my invitation to Sampan.

"Billy, are we really going to do this?" She asked.

Now it was me who hesitated. I gathered my thoughts.

"I know Maddie. I can't give you any guarantees about anything at this moment. But I do know this, I've enjoyed being with you over the past few weeks and I'd really like for us to go to this event together."

"We'll see" she said and before I knew it she had hung up.

Friday afternoon I got a text from Junior, 'can you meet with C and I? Reef Bar - 8 o'clock'.

Meet with Junior and Clarence. This will be interesting, I thought. Maybe some good news.

I got there first but they were not far behind. Watching them thread their way to my table I did not get positive looks from either Clarence or Junior.

Quietly they sat down, ordered their drink, and didn't say much until the waitress had left.

"So what happened?" I asked.

They explained they and three of their employees all went down to the Mettke building.

"Not sure what's going on down there," Clarence said, "but it ain't no freight company. They doing something illegal down there, and those dude's are packing."

"They've got guns?" I questioned, and both of them nodded affirmatively.

"Look Billy," Junior said to me, "I owe you, and I want to help, but those dudes are out of our league. I don't want to have to tell one of my guys' woman that he ain't coming home."

We sat there and I got a little more information from Junior and Clarence. They described that there were about 5 guys on the main floor, almost like security. They suspected they were all armed.

And then upstairs there were four more and Leslie. It sounded like Hartoonian, the two big guys I had seen when I went there, and then there was another older guy, full beard. He looked like he was in charge.

"They called him Levon, or Lev, or some shit." Clarence added.

One other thing they said was that Leslie looked nervous, kind of scared.

I thanked them and reminded Junior to invoice me for their services as we walked out.

Now what was I going to do I thought. If they are doing something illegal, drugs most likely, a freight company would be the perfect cover to transport them. I was getting in deeper it seemed daily.

I called Detective Pappas looking for information about Dallas's murder and to let him know of my suspicions regarding illegal activity at Mettke Freight. He sounded patient and listened as I talked.

"I appreciate all this Mr Damon," he told me, "but so far we have no leads on the assault of your brother or Mr Crenshaw and...."

"But what about the drugs?" I interrupted him.

"What drugs? We can't go raiding a business just because of suspicions. I have no proof at this time of drug activity, and neither do you," he told me, "now I'm sorry about Mr Crenshaw, but please Mr Damon, let us do our job."

And that was that. So frustrating.

Late Saturday afternoon I left my house for a short run to burn off some of my anxiety. I was certainly concerned about Rich, his marriage and the business, but also this entire involvement with Hartoonian and his thugs. I was also struggling with my feelings with Maddie. A good run often cleared my head.

Just as I was leaving I saw a car, out of place, in my neighborhood. It looked like the same generic sedan with tinted windows that I'd seen outside the hospital. I noticed the tinted window slightly open. I angled across the street toward the car.

At that moment the car accelerated away, leaving me standing in the middle of the street.

During my run I took inventory of recent events. The biggest stress was Mettke Freight and Hartoonian and that whole crowd that had taken over my building. I needed to ask Maddie about the timeline on the recovery of the Mettke building.

I needed to talk to Maddie about Saturday night too. That was something else that was confusing, in several ways.

I surveyed my street as I returned. The mysterious car, possibly driven by Hartoonian's gang, was nowhere to be seen.

That night I called Maddie, voicemail, she returned the call an hour later.

"Hello Billy," she greeted me, businesslike.

We discussed the state of my building and the ownership question.