Betrayal

"Not that I'm not grateful for your help and everything, but how long do you think we'll have to run?" Retta's smile had disappeared.

"Don't really know just yet," Ben admitted. "When I decided to take you and run, that's all I'd planned."

Retta's smile returned. "It's okay; I'm seeing a lot of the country that I've never seen before."

Ben walked across the road to the Big Spring Café to get breakfast the next morning, Retta was still sleeping. As he finished his very large breakfast, Red Sinclair sat down at his table.

"Howdy," he said and reached across and took a piece of Ben's toast. "Y'all sure do put the food away. Course I don't do to bad myself," he said and patted his large stomach.

"Help yourself to some toast or something," Ben grinned at the big man.

"Was talkin to the County Sheriff this morning," Red mentioned as he put some jelly on the toast. "Said the police chief over to Poplar Bluff called and said to look out for a big man and a blond woman. Chief said he'd received a BOLO about these two. Seems they stole some money from a St. Louis business man named Moe Farrell. He was told they were drivin a white Ford Taurus. Said this business man in St. Louis was offering a big reward to find them."

Red caged a cup of coffee from a passing waitress. "I told Milt, that's the Sheriff, he'd be better off forgettin about that call." He finished his coffee and stood, "Course that don't mean nothing to you, but I thought it was a mite interestin. See y'all."

"Thanks Red."

"For what? Don't have nothing to do with anyone I know." Red leaned closer to Ben. "Ifin I was that couple, I'd head down to Arkansas. Lots of country to get lost in down there." He turned and left the café with a wave.

"Pack up," Ben ordered when he returned to the cabin. Retta was just finishing getting ready for the day. He explained what Red had told him. "Seems Moe's brought some trumped up charges against us and he's got the police working for him." Ben grabbed their suitcases, threw them in the bed of the truck but stopped before he and Retta got in.

Ben looked at Retta for several seconds. "Moe's boys won't recognize you now, what with your dark, short hair. The only thing that ties you in to all this, is me. I think you should take a bus out of here. I'll lead anyone looking for us in another direction." He pulled three packs of money out of his jacket. "This is $15,000; it should get you some place safe and give enough for a fresh start."

"But you're still recovering from your wound," Retta protested.

"I'm healed enough to drive," Ben replied. He sighed and said, "Don't you understand? I'm the one that stands out; without me around you can slip past them and be free."

"But I don't want to be free," Retta said. "Not if it means being free of you too. Can't I stay?"

"Ever seen Arkansas?" He asked and motioned Retta into the truck.

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

There's another one, Ben thought. Why do all those guys wear shark skin suits and bad ones at that? Moe's suits are Sharkskin, but they cost $4000, Ben mused. You can tell the difference between class and flash, Ben continued his thought. Never thought Moe would find us in Little Rock, Arkansas.

Ben and Retta had left Van Buren, driving through small country towns to Little Rock. The trip had taken almost seven hours because they'd used the back roads and stayed off the main highways; they'd been in Little Rock for three days.

Ben turned his back on the rough looking man and quickly went to where a young woman was looking at clothes. He gently took her arm, put her in front of him, and walked her out of the store. The man in the cheap suit never saw them leave.

They left the Walmart store and hurried to their truck. "Guess a cop or state trooper spotted us," Ben said. "Moe probably has an in with the St. Louis police, heard about it, and sent some of his guys down here." He glanced at Retta. "Sorry, guess we have to stay on the run for a while."

Retta was sitting sideways in the seat, looking out the rear window of the truck. "A big black car just came out of the parking lot and is following us," she warned.

"Time to see if Red was right about this truck," Ben replied and pushed his foot down on the accelerator.

The old, ratty truck sprang forward as if were a race car, quickly leaving the following car behind. At the first intersection, Ben turned left and then left again and made a final left which soon brought him up behind the black car. He kept his followers in sight just long enough to see that they were headed in the opposite direction of his and Retta's motel.

Pulling to a stop in front of their room, Ben said, "Let's get our stuff and head west."

"Where are we going this time?" Retta asked. She didn't seem upset at the idea of continuing to travel with Ben.

"Aren't you worried?" Ben asked.

"Why? You've kept us ahead of Moe's men, I've seen some really pretty country, and you're pretty good company when he let yourself wind down a bit. So, why should I worry? Now, where are we going this time?"

Ben looked back over his shoulder to answer Retta as they entered their room. "We'll head for San Diego. I know a couple of guys there that can help us get to a safe place in Mexico. We can live like rich people down there with the money we've got."

"Sounds like a good plan," a high pitched voice said from inside the room. "But I don't think you're gonna make it."

Ben turned; two men stood just inside the door. One was Louie, who held his infamous flick blade knife, which really didn't bother Ben that much. But the other guy held a pistol on them; he was the one that motioned Ben and Retta into the room. Louie closed the door behind them and leaned against it.

"Shouldn't have betrayed Moe," Louis said with an evil look on his face. "You know, for years I've tried to get between you and Moe, but you were always his little favorite; his fair haired boy that could do no wrong. I raised the boy right, he would say." Then Louis smiled. "I guess he don't think so much of you now."

"Let the girl go Louie," Ben said. "I'm the one that double crossed Moe."

"You think too much of yourself Stillman," Louie responded. "I didn't come for you, I came for the girl. Moe wants his money and he wants her working for him." The pale pasty looking Louie laughed. "Getting to do you is just a bonus for me. No, no, let's not do anything crazy," Louie ordered as Ben took a step toward him. "Arturo, if he moves again, shoot him in the knee cap." Arturo pointed his weapon at Ben's legs.

Everybody stopped at the ringing of a cell phone. Arturo pulled the phone from his inside jacket pocket. "Yeah?" Ben could hear the voice on the other end of the call but couldn't understand the words. "When?" Arturo listened and asked, "So we're not gonna get paid? Okay, I'm leavin now. See ya."

"What?" Louie asked.

"Moe's dead."

"What?"

"Joey said that big Swede that runs the families got tired of Moe tryin to get into the prostitution game; so he had him wacked. Cops found Moe sitting in his car with three gunshot wounds. He had two in the chest and one in the back of the head; gangland style." Arturo walked toward the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Louis demanded.

"Joey said the Feds got all Moe's money, got his bank accounts frozen and everything. Something about RICO warrants. Joey said we ain't getting paid for this job, so I'm headin back. Gonna get my stuff and get the hell out before the Feds come after me." He took another step.

"You ain't goin nowhere until we finish here," Louis warned.

"Louie, you ain't gettin paid either. Don't you understand? It's over, let's get out of here."

Arturo took a couple of steps toward the door. "You ain't leavin," Louie said and raised his knife.

"Louie, don't be dumb," Arturo said and pointed his big automatic. "You brought a knife to a gun fight. Now get away from the door."

Louie stepped aside. He switched his knife to his left hand and as Arturo opened the door, Louie pulled a snub nosed revolver out of his jacket and shot Arturo twice in the back. Then he put another shot into the back of Arturo's head. "Just like you said; gangland style."

It gave Ben a chance to rush Louie. As he got close, Ben grabbed Louie, knocked the gun to the floor and pulled the smaller man into a bear hug. Ben roared and lifted Louie into the air holding him by the neck. Ben roared again, moved his hands and broke Louie's neck; you could hear the 'snap' from across the room. The big man took three steps backward to the wall and slid down to the floor.

"Ben," Retta yelled in alarm. She rushed to him and knelt at his side. That's when she saw Louie's knife sticking at angle out of his midsection. Retta grabbed a pillowcase from the nearby bed and used it to put pressure on the wound, around the knife. "Oh, Ben," she said with tears running down her face.

"Looks like we finally solved your problem Retta," Ben said. He put a bloody hand to her cheek. "You don't have to run anymore." Ben closed his eyes and slid over on his side.

"No you don't," Retta said as she dialed 911. "You're not getting rid of me that easy mister." In the distance, Retta heard the siren from the ambulance.

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

Moe Farrell's murder was determined by the F.B.I. and the St. Louis Police Organized Crime Division to be retaliation for Moe stepping on the big boy's toes. No charges were ever brought as other than the body there was no evidence linking a person or persons to the crime. Moe's small time gang deserted the sinking ship and left the city; those that didn't were rounded up and charge with various crimes.

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

Ben's wound, while serious, wasn't life threatening. The knife blade had missed vital organs so the biggest problem had been the puncture and blood loss. The hospital did emergency surgery to close the wound. The first time the nurses got him up to walk around, he signed himself out of the hospital, against doctor's orders.

"No need to be a sitting target, even if Moe is gone," Ben told Retta. "Some of the guys might not be smart enough to realize that now they wouldn't be paid to off us."

The next six weeks, Ben and Retta made a tour of the small towns and communities in central Arkansas and then back up into southern Missouri; resting for a day or two when Ben needed. He had been a city boy all his life but found he enjoyed the tree covered hills, lakes, and rivers of the "country"; he also liked the slower laid back pace.

"Where to now?" Retta asked as she and Ben checked out of the small motel in Conway.

"I've checked with a couple of people I trust in St. Louis and the heat is off," Ben answered. "Guess it's time to take you back home."

"Why?"

Ben was surprised at the question. "I thought you'd want to get back to your life. Go on with your schooling and your teaching."

The bench seat in the truck allowed Retta to slide over next to Ben. "I could've gone home six weeks ago, but I'd rather stay with you. I can teach just about anywhere we decided to go." She took Ben's hand and leaned into him.

The smile on Ben's face lit up the cab of the truck. "I was hoping you'd feel that way," he said. "Cause I don't want to be apart from you either." He put his arm around Retta, pulled her closer, and put his hand on Retta's cheek. He kissed her; it was several minutes before Ben started the truck.

"You didn't answer, where to now?" Retta repeated her question.

"Back to St. Louis." Ben saw the disappointment on Retta's face and quickly added, "We'll get the rest of your clothes and anything else you don't want to leave and then head over to my place. There are things I want to take with us. Then we'll find a place to live."

"You don't want to stay in St. Louis?" Retta asked.

"If you want to stay, we will. But I'd rather find a place that not so many people know what I used to do for a living; or so many that can connect me to Moe." Ben looked thoughtful for almost 30 seconds, while Retta waited for him to continue. "Moe had a lot of enemies, I mean look what happened to him, and I am, or was, one of his chief lieutenants. Some might decide a little payback is in order. No I'd like to leave all that behind me."

"Whither thou goest, I will go. Whither thou lodgest, I will lodge." Retta gave Ben a big smile. The next several minutes were spent doing more interesting things than talking. Finally Retta said, "Start the truck Ben, we'll never get moved if we sit here all day."

Nine hours later Ben parked in front of his apartment. They had already been to Retta's place and were going to spend the night at Ben's. Early the next morning, as Ben finished putting the few possessions he wanted in the truck, a big black Lincoln Town Car pulled in. Ben knew it belonged to Bjorn Gustavsson, the head of the major St. Louis crime family; and the man that had killed Moe Farrell.

"Get back into the apartment," Ben ordered Retta. She looked at the big black car; she had learned to trust Ben so she didn't hesitate and went quickly inside. Ben opened the driver's door and stood behind it; he reached under seat and pulled out his .357. Holding the big pistol at his side, Ben also made sure the Colt .45 was loose in its holster in the small of his back. Then he waited for someone to get out of the Town Car.

The driver of the car came around to the back door and held it open. Bjorn Gustavsson slowly got out of the car and faced Ben. The man sure don't look like a mobster, Ben thought. If you looked in a dictionary under Swede, his is the picture you'd see. Gustavsson was about 6'3 with a muscular build, and blond with a very light complexion; which made his cold blue eyes stand out. Those eyes are dead looking, Ben continued his thoughts. Wonder what he wants?"

"Mr. Stillman? I'm Bjorn Gustavsson. Your previous employer and I had a slight disagreement," Gustavsson gave men a humorless smile but it didn't reach his eyes. "And now it seems you are without a job."

"Looks that way Mr. Gustavsson. I hope you're not here to continue your vendetta against Moe or his people."

"No, that's not why I'm here." Gustavsson gave Ben another smile. "But what if I were?"

Ben slowly raised the .357, but he didn't point it at anyone. "I believe I'd have to take issue with you sir."

Gustavsson motioned for his driver to relax. "Take issue, in what way?" He was still smiling.

"I'd have to shoot you where you stand Mr. Gustavsson."

The smile disappeared for a few seconds, but then returned. "Well then, it's a good thing I'm not here to continue the 'vendetta' as you call it; just the opposite actually."

"Sir?" Ben was puzzled.

"From everything I've heard and can find out, you were a valuable employee for Mr. Farrell. You did your job discretely and were usually successful; unlike that fellow Louie. Do you know what happened to Louie? I don't want him working for me and I think it would be best if he left town."

"Louie won't bother you Mr. Gustavsson," Ben answered. He smiled and added, "And he won't be coming back to St. Louis."

"Are you sure? Last I heard he was looking for you and a Miss Johnson."

"He found me and yes I'm sure Louie won't be coming back."

Gustavsson looked at Ben with a new interest. This young man is formidable and will make a valuable addition to my business, Gustavsson thought.

I've come to offer you a position with my company."

"And what would I be doing for your?"

"I've decided to take over Mr. Farrell's interest; now that he can no longer run them. I feel you would be a good candidate to run that side of my business, seeing as you know all of the late Mr. Farrell's customers."

Ben returned the smile and shook his head. He turned and plainly laid his pistol on the seat of the truck. "I've retired Mr. Gustavsson. Didn't like the job much anyway; only did it out of loyalty to Moe. "You know my story and connection to Moe?" The man nodded and Ben continued, "Now that he's gone, I can go on to other things."

"Pity," Gustavsson said. "I think we could have a mutually profitable relationship."

Ben stepped from behind the door and walked toward the mob boss. The driver tensed but Ben smiled at him and shook his head. He stopped close to Gustavsson. "I can't advise you on Moe's customers but I can do something better. He turned and called to Retta. "Hon, bring my laptop would you please?"

Retta quickly brought the computer and Ben motioned to give it to Gustavsson. "I've kept records all these years. They're on the laptop, mostly in spreadsheets; the password is bearman.

Gustavsson took the laptop and passed it to his driver. "And how much do you want for this information Mr. Stillman?"

"Consider it a token of my respect and appreciation for not continuing the vendetta."

The man, nodded, motioned to his driver and got back into the Town Car. Ben watched as it drove away and then said to Retta. "Let's get out of here."

She ran out with a last duffel bag, threw it into the bed of the truck and climbed into the cab. "Who was that and what did he want?"

"That was the man who disposed of Moe Farrell and he wanted me to go to work for him." Ben pause for a dramatic effect and said, "I turned him down. Told him I was retired."

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

Ben and Retta returned to Poplar Bluff, making it their base of operations for almost a year. Retta finished her schooling and got her teacher's accreditation, while Ben basically took it easy. He said he was looking for a business opportunity, but while Retta was in school he spent most of his time exploring the country side.

He'd tried to rent a separate apartment for Retta but she refused. "I'm going to be with you all the time anyway so why waste the money on a second apartment?"

"I can't live with you like roommates Retta,' Ben admitted. "I couldn't promise to be a gentleman all the time."

"So who's asking you to do something dumb like that," she replied and flopped down on his lap. Her kiss was all the explanation Ben needed.

While visiting nearby Lake Wappapello and the small town with the same name, Retta found out that the community needed a teacher. She applied and was offered the position.

She and Ben decided to move to the small town. The commute from "The Bluff" was about 20 miles, but much of it was on secondary roads. During the spring to fall periods it wouldn't present a problem, but it wasn't unheard of for that part of Missouri to get snow and sometimes ice storms during the winter.

Ben and Retta took a trip to Van Buren and got married in the rotunda of the Carter County Courthouse. Red Sinclair was enlisted as the best man. He and his wife, Shirley, were also the witnesses. It was a very small reception held at the corner drug store with the soda fountain. There were a couple of presents to open, which surprised Ben and Retta.

From Red, Ben got a fishing and hunting license that was good for two years; Retta received a handmade quilt from Shirley. "Just the thing to cuddle up with your man on those cold Missouri nights," Shirley advised.

There was a third present that was surprisingly heavy. Ben ripped off the wrapping paper and saw a beautiful wooden box. Inside the box were twelve, 1 troy ounce, gold bars and a note.

"Congratulations on your wedding. The information you provided has been most helpful. Please accept this as my wedding gift to you." The note was signed, "Bjorn Gustavsson".

"Gold is about $1600 an ounce," Ben said, surprise in his voice. "These are worth nearly $20,000.

That last duffle bag that Retta had long ago put in the truck had contained a substantial sum of money; over 150 thousand dollars. Ben's life had consisted of working and not much more for the last five years, so he had saved most of his salary and bonuses. The "wedding gift" along with the money from the duffel enabled Ben and Retta to by a business.