Betrayal

Louie took a step toward Ben as he opened the knife again. "Louie, behave yourself," Moe said. "Ben just do your job and let me worry about Miss Johnson."

Ben shook his head and left. He knew arguing with Moe was a waste of time. The guy thinks he's a real hood, now that he's getting into prostitution, Ben thought. Maybe it's time I find another line of work.

********************

Loretta answered Ben's knock at 10 AM on the dot. He motioned for her to follow him to his car. Loretta was wearing a sundress that buttoned down the front, and sandals.

"You look nice," Ben offered as he started the car.

"I thought it would be easier to try on things wearing a dress than with jeans," Loretta answered. Her voice was soft and sad.

"You won't be trying on clothes and such this morning," Ben said. Loretta gave him a puzzled look. "You have any money put aside?"

"What?"

"Money. Do you have any saved?"

"I've got about two thousand dollars in an account and another five hundred in my checking account. Why? Moe said I didn't have to start paying him until next week."

"Which bank?" Ben asked.

"Tower Grove National."

"Good, Moe uses the same bank." Ben saw the puzzled look from Loretta and smiled. "You're not going to go to work for Moe. We're gonna hit the bricks."

"What?"

"You and I are going to your bank and withdraw all your money. While I'm there, I'll get a cash advance on Moe's credit card and then we'll disappear." Ben smiled and added, "I've already got all my money, so between us we should be able to hide until I can figure something out."

"You're going to help me?" Loretta's voice had life in it for the first time since the meeting with Moe. "Why?"

"Loretta, I'm a lot of things, some, hell most of it bad, but I can't and won't be a part of turning you into a whore. You know that's Moe's plan for you don't you? Anyway, I'll help you get away from him. Now let's go back into your apartment and put together a bag for you. Then we'll hit the bank and get the hell out of Dodge."

As Loretta packed, much too much to Ben's way of thinking, she asked, "But won't he be upset with you helping me?"

"Upset? Hell, he'll be so pissed off he might have a stroke; at least we can hope so."

Loretta looked at Ben with a new hope. "He'll punish you for double crossing him, won't he?" It was a statement more than a question.

"He'll see it as more than a double cross; he'll see it as a betrayal." Ben quickly explained how Moe took him in and took care of him. He shook himself. "We won't use credit cards because they can be traced; we'll have to live off the grid. Moe doesn't know about this car so he can't track us that way."

The car was a non-descript Ford Taurus, like thousands of others on the road. But, Ben had put a new engine, new suspension, and made it the most powerful Tarsus on the road. It would take a very powerful vehicle to keep up with it.

Ben's super Taurus pulled into the parking lot of the bank. "You go clean out your accounts. Leave a few bucks in there so there's no report of them being closed."

Loretta gave Ben a questioning look. "Moe's got an in at this bank and we don't want him knowing that you're running before we get a chance to put some miles between us. I'll go see Brinks, the bank manager, and get as much money on Moe's credit card as I can."

"Won't he question you using Moe's card?"

"Naw, when Moe needs a little extra cash, he sends me to get it. I'll get $20,000 or so, Moe does it all the time. Brinks will separate the amount out over three or four transactions and spread them out over three or four weeks. He won't suspect a thing."

"Why do that?"

"Any transaction for $10,000 or more is reported to the Feds, Homeland Security, and bank regulators. This way we won't run into that limit. I'd like to get more but I don't want to do anything unusual; can't take that chance. When I'm done, I'll meet you in the lobby."

"Are you sure the manager will help you?"

"Yeah. Brinks embezzled some money from a couple of accounts and lost it in the stock market. If the info got out Brinks would be ruined. His job and his reputation would be trashed; he'd also go to jail. He came to Moe and Moe paid it back. Now Moe owns Brinks and just about runs the bank."

"How much this time?" Brinks asked after greeting Ben.

"Twenty," Ben answered. "Moe's got a deal coming up and he needs cash."

In less than fifteen minutes the transaction was completed. Ben put the four stacks of $100 bills in his jacket pockets. Each banded stack contained fifty bills, totaling $5000. Ben had requested this division of the money to make it easier to carry.

As Ben left Brink's desk, the bank manager watched him walk away. He saw Ben join a pretty young lady in the lobby and leave the bank. As Ben had said, this transaction wasn't unusual, but Moe normally called and set it up before Ben got there. Maybe I ought to call Moe, Brinks thought. He picked up the phone and punched in Moe's private line.

"Hey Moe, its Tony Brinks. I gave Ben the money you requested and wanted to know if there is anything else I can do for you."

"What money?" Moe asked.

"The $20,000 you sent Ben for," Brinks answered. Then worried he'd done something wrong he asked, "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Oh yeah, my mind was on something else," Moe replied. "Thanks Tony, talk to you later."

Now why would Ben get cash without my say so? Moe asked himself. He was sitting in the coffee shop and he thought for a couple of minutes. He called Ben's home and then his cell and didn't get an answer. "Louie get your ass in here," he yelled. Louie came out of a dark back office.

"Get over to Ben's and see why he's not answering his phone. When you see him, tell him to get his ass in here." Because of Ben's recent mood and his bit of disrespect, Moe had a bad feeling.

Less than an hour later Louie called. "Ben's split," he told his boss. "His car is still here, but some of his clothes are gone and so is his shaving stuff. That .357 cannon he keeps in his desk is gone too."

"Son of a bitch,' Moe responded. "Get over to that Johnson girl's place and see if he's there. Call me from there."

The next call was more of the same. "Broad's gone too; dresser drawers left open with nothing much in them. Empty hangers in the closet; looks like someone took off in a hurry."

"Get hold of the guys and tell them to find Ben and that broad," Moe ordered. His voice was angry. "Call me when you find them."

********************

Nice town, Ben thought. He was standing on the porch of a rental cabin on the outskirts of Poplar Bluff. He and Loretta had been there for a week; they'd made the 160 mile drive from St. Louis in a little over 5 hours. Ben had been careful not to break any speed limits but he wasted little time getting out of St. Louis.

Poplar Bluff, known to its residence and people in nearby communities as "The Bluff", was a large town or a small city, depending on who was talking, with a population of about 17,000. It was close to a recreational lake, Lake Wappapello, which brought thousands of tourists through the community. There were several small industries but it was mostly a farming and tourism community. Big enough to have all you need, but still has the small town feel, Ben continued his thought. I wouldn't mind staying here for a while.

"You can come in now," Loretta called from inside the cabin. The cabin had one large room that doubled as a bedroom and living space. The bathroom was small and didn't give you much room for anything but the necessities. Ben had stepped outside while Loretta did whatever it was that women do to get ready. When he entered the cabin, Loretta had her back to the door. She turned around and started buttoning the man's type shirt she was wearing.

Ben could see Loretta's toned, tanned stomach and the light beige bra she was wearing. "Oh, sorry. I thought you said to come in," Ben stammered.

"I did." Seeing the big man turn red she laughed. "C'mon Ben, you'd see more of me at the pool or beach."

"Yeah, but we ain't at the beach. You shouldn't tease me like that Retta," Ben said with a grin.

"Retta? I like that," she said smiling. "But you wouldn't hurt me; you're just a big teddy bear."

"Even teddy bears have teeth and know how to bite a little girl."

They both laughed and walked to a local family owned BBQ restaurant. "Can we go to a club tonight," Retta asked. "Maybe get a drink and dance a little."

"I don't dance," Ben replied shaking his head. Retta pursed her lips in a pout. "Okay," Ben relented. "We'll go for a couple of drinks and one dance; but only one."

After dinner they went to the lounge at the Holiday Inn, Ben didn't feel like braving the probably boisterous crowd at one of the local bars. Ben and Retta were sitting in a booth where Ben was recovering from the six dances he'd just done. The effect that Retta had on him when he held her close bothered him.

Last thing we need is to get involved with each other, Ben thought. I don't know where I'm going to end up or what I'm going to do. Moe won't let it go. He'll have Louie and others looking for me until he catches me; or I might get tired of running and look up Moe and settle things. Either way, I'm not a good prospect for a woman. Besides she probably doesn't think of me that way. I'm just the guy that's helping her in a bad situation.

Ben looked up as someone entered the lounge and stiffened. He noticed a man who could have been a movie extra playing a mob guy. The man had a swarthy complexion with dark oily, slicked back, hair. His suit wasn't in the best fashion; it was a cheap knock off of in a shiny Sharkskin material. Looks like what he is, Ben thought. I don't doubt he works for Moe, but I don't know him; he must be hired muscle.

Ben turned his back to the entrance and pulled Retta in close so she was hidden from the man's view. "Don't look now but I think Moe has found us," Ben told her. When the wanna be mobster turned his back and walked toward the bar, Ben pulled Retta out of the booth and escaped through another entrance to the lounge.

"Does that scary looking guy work for Moe?" Retta asked. "And how did they find us?"

"Yeah, I'm sure he's looking for us. Moe probably checked the airlines and bus stations and didn't find us so he sent word to all the towns of any size to keep an eye out for us."

"His gang or network or whatever you call it is that big?"

"No, he can barely hold on to his neighborhood in the city. But he has contacts from all over who owe him favors. That's probably what that guy is." Ben hurried Retta back to their cabin. "Makes no difference, we have to move. Get packed."

As Retta packed her things, Ben put on a shoulder holster holding his Dan Wesson .357 revolver. It was one of the few things his father had left him and besides being a deadly weapon it had a sentimental value to him. He also put a Colt 1911 .45 pistol inside the waistband of his jeans in the small of his back.

Walking to their car, Ben saw another vehicle pull to a skidding stop about 50 feet away. Two men jumped out and snapped off shots at Ben and Retta. Before they could fire again, Ben pulled the .357 and fired at one of the men, who was hiding behind the open car door. That man fell to the ground, out of the fire fight; the other one dove behind his car trying to make himself as small a target as possible. Ben fired two shots through the other car's radiator and into the engine block. He pushed the shocked Retta into the Taurus and throwing gravel from the tires, tore out of the cabin's parking area. He constantly checked the review mirror for pursuit. Thirty minutes later, driving through the heavily wooden country side, Ben took a small side road and pulled to a stop.

"Why are we stopping?" Retta asked in surprise.

"Think I'd better do something about the bleeding," Ben answered and pointed to his side and his blood stained shirt. "Those guys were really good or they got lucky. Either way, I got hit."

Retta took over and made him get out of the car. Using the headlights so she could see she made Ben take off his shirt and examined the wound. Looks a lot worse than it is Retta thought. It just creased his side. She washed the injury with bottled water and then used one of her T shirts to bandage the wound.

"That'll hold it until we can get to a drug store," Ben said.

They got back into the car and drove almost due west. Later that evening they ended up at an older place, named Smalley's, in the small town of Van Buren. The small motel wasn't of the strip type places and rented cabins, for those who wanted more privacy, by the night, the week, or the month.

Retta made Ben lay down on the bed and in spite of his protest made preparations to walk to the drug store they'd seen about two blocks away on the main street. Before she left she pushed her long blond hair up under a baseball cap, put on a one of Ben's jackets, and donned sunglasses. The jacket hung on her, disguising her body, and with her hair covered by the cap, it was hard to see that she was a woman.

The drugstore was a typical small town, mom and pop, business. It had something Retta had never seen in person; an actual soda fountain which served ice cream sundaes, malts, and ice cream sodas. She smiled as she picked out the things she needed to treat Ben's injury. After paying for the medical supplies, Retta chuckled and walked over to the soda counter. She bought two banana splits to go and returned to Smalley's.

"If you're a good boy when I take care of your wound, I'll give you this banana split," Retta told Ben with a big smile. "If not, I'll just have to eat both of them."

"Yes ma'am, I'll be good," Ben replied returning her smile.

As they were eating the ice cream Retta asked, "How did those men find us?"

"Just because Moe is a sleaze bag, don't think he's stupid. He probably put the word out to contacts in every major city and town in Missouri and Illinois." Ben shook his head. "It was just our bad luck to be spotted at the lounge."

"What do we do now?"

"We'll lay low here for a few days if we can. Van Buren is too small for Moe to have anyone here. Those guys saw the car and maybe got the license number so I'll have to get rid of it." Ben saw the worried look on Retta's face. "Don't get all freaked out, we'll be fine. Now let me finish my ice cream."

The next morning Ben drove the Taurus to the one gas station in town. He'd noticed four or five vehicles parked close to the main street with "For Sale" signs in their windows. Ben walked around the cars and stopped in front of an older Chevy pickup. The truck's body had a few dents and scrapes but there was no rust. A man, almost as big as Ben, came out of the gas station.

"Howdy. I'm Red Sinclair," he said. "That truck don't look like much, but she's a real runner."

Ben motioned toward the hood and opened it when Red nodded. Inside was an engine that hadn't come with the truck from the factory. To Ben's practiced eye he could tell by the big V8 that the truck was a real sleeper. "Can I start it?" Ben asked. Red nodded again and Ben started the truck. The roar of the powerful engine told Ben that he was right, this wasn't a farm truck.

"Truck belonged to the Chilton boy, Tommy, fore he went off to Iraq," Red explained. "He put a lot of time and money into that truck. New engine, transmission, suspension and such. Planned on doing the body and interior we he came back." Red sighed and stared at the truck for a few seconds. "Boy never made it home. Heard tell it was what they call an IED, you know, Improvised Explosive Device, got the Hummer he was riding in. Tommy's dad gave me the truck to sell; said havin it around the house reminded him that his boy wasn't comin home."

"I'm interested Mr. Sinclair," Ben said. "But I've got that car over there I need to get factored into the deal."

"Red's good enough. Let's take a look at your Ford. Maybe we can do a little horse tradin."

Red walked to the Taurus, reached into the window, pulled the hood release and opened the hood. Ben started the engine and joined Red at the front of the car.

"From the looks and sound of it, reckon you know a bit about engines and such yourself," Red offered. Ben nodded. "Okay son, what's the story. You want to trade a three year old Ford, with a souped-up motor and low mileage for a ten year old truck. Don't make good sense."

Ben looked hard at Red for about ten seconds. One of Ben's talents was being able to read people; it came in handy when he was collecting for Moe. He decided Red Sinclair was a good man and made a decision.

"Mr. Sinclair, er Red, it's like this," Ben said explained the situation. After five minutes of talking Ben said, "You can make a lot of money by calling Moe Farrell in St. Louis and telling him where we are."

Red grinned. "I run my little station here, close it down to go fishin or huntin when I want to and ifin the wife wants to go to The Bluff or up to St. Louis we just go. Got about everything I need or want; blood money won't make my life any better. Let's step inside and see ifin we can't make a deal."

Motioning Ben to a chair next to a beat up old desk, Red poured Ben a cup of coffee. "Now what did y'all have in mind? Red asked sitting across from Ben.

"Don't really know Mr. Sincl...Red. It just came to mind that we need to change cars. What's Mr. Chilton asking for the truck?"

"That Chevy has a Blue Book value of about $6800, but Mr. Chilton said to get rid of it quick." Red paused and said, "Reckon he'd let it go for $6000. That's a good price considering all the work that's been done on it."

"Sounds fair, but I've still got my Ford to get rid of." Ben thought for a few seconds. "Tell you what I'm going to do."

"Wait; let me button down my hip pocket. When a man says that, he's usually goin to try gettin into my wallet," Red replied with a big grin.

"Not this time Red. My Taurus's blue book is about $18000; that's not counting all the work on the drive train and suspension I've done. Give me the truck and $4000 and we'll both make out. You might have to take it to someplace like Poplar Bluff but I'm pretty sure you can get 14 to 15 thousand for my Ford."

C'mon we'll do some paperwork and you can take the truck." Ben hesitated and Red added, "I'll probably forget to send in the paperwork for the new registrations for ten days to two weeks. I'm getting real forgetful in my old age."

Ben grinned and went to his car to get the title and registration. Ten minutes later he drove his "new" old truck back to Smalley's motel. That deal cost me about $8000, Ben thought. But Moe's guys won't look for us in a truck. Ben had another surprise waiting when he entered his cabin.

Apparently, Retta had bought more than bandages and ice cream at the little drug store. Her hair was now a deep auburn and she'd cut it in a short pixie style.

"Those men are looking for a large man and a woman with long blond hair," Retta said smiling at Ben's surprised look. "We can't do anything about your size but I did something about the long blond hair. She put on a pair of horned rimmed glasses and asked, "What do you think?"

Ben chuckled. "Smart thinking Retta. I should have thought of that."

"I'm going to miss being a blond though," she replied.

"You'd look good with a bald head," Ben muttered under his breath. He was beginning to develop feelings for this brave young woman he'd decided to help. She's never once said 'oh poor me' or bitched about running from town to town.

"That's a sweet thing to say Ben," Retta responded to Ben's soft statement.

"Well, it's the truth. Anyway we've got a new ride so we'll hit the road in a few days. No need to stay in one place too long."