Don Bruns: Stuff to die for

“If this Krueger is really from the CIA, they’ll help her.”

I shook my head. “Oh, yeah. What are the three things people have learned not to believe? The check is in the mail, I won’t come in your mouth, and I’m from the government and I’m here to help you.”

“Angel seemed pretty sure Krueger wasn’t for real.”

“Angel also said if the CIA knew of a plot against Castro-”

James finished the sentence. “They’d applaud the effort. Jesus, you don’t think that Krueger and the CIA are-?”

“Let’s find out.”

“What, now we’re going to stalk the CIA?”

“Nah.” For a buck fifty I dialed 411.

“Information. What city and state?”

“Miami, Florida.”

“What listing?”

“Central Intelligence Agency.”

There was as short pause. “I have no listing for that agency.”

“Can you just try the initials, CIA?”

“Oh. Like the CIA?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that one.

“There is no listing.”

“James, you’ve got Internet at the Cap’n?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s Google the CIA.”

James smiled. “All right, amigo. And Lindsey is working late. Maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll invite me to spend the night.”

Lindsey was glad to see him. Cap’n Crab was busy, but the petite brunette found time to hang around the back room and chitchat. She seemed to be good at that. She told him what had happened between the time he’d left and right now, then she told him how she anticipated the night would go, then she asked if he had any plans later on, and I figured that both of them already knew what the night would bring. And so it went. James kept her busy while I Googled.

There’s a home page for the CIA in Langely, Virginia, and they list an information number. When Lindsey and James walked out front, I called the number. The girl who answered was very officious. She asked if I was with the press, and since I wanted her to answer some questions, I told her I was. When she asked me what publication, I should have said I was a freelance journalist, but she’d taken me by surprise and I really didn’t know what to say. Directly in front of me lay the latest copy of Food Industry, so that’s what I told her.

“ Food Industry.”

“And what can I help you with?”

“If a group of American citizens were to be involved in a coup on a foreign government, would the CIA investigate?”

I heard her take a breath, then pause. “And again, who are you with?”

“ Food Industry. We’re doing a story on, uh, food and the CIA.”

“Uh-uh.” She wasn’t buying it. “Regardless, the CIA does not investigate American citizens.”

“You wouldn’t do surveillance on a couple of guys who may have seen something or know something they shouldn’t?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. However, you can tell Food Industry that the Central Intelligence Agency does not investigate, follow, or worry about American citizens on American soil. Okay?”

“One more question. Can you tell me if there’s any roster of CIA employees?”

“No. We couldn’t give out that information.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

I hung up and picked up a copy of the Miami phone book. I thumbed through the Ks and found one William Krueger. What the hell. I dialed the number, wondering where I’d found this new courage. When you’ve been threatened, shot at, almost burned alive, pissed off the CIA, and knocked up the most beautiful girl in town, there’s not much left to be afraid of.

A lady answered.

“Um, is Mr. Krueger in?”

“He’s not home at the moment. I do expect him within the hour. Can I take a message or would you care to call back?”

“I want to be sure I’ve got the right William Krueger. Does he work for the CIA?”

“Yes. You’ve got the right one.”

I hung up. If they traced the call, Lindsey could take the heat.

James drove me home in the truck, grabbed his toothbrush and a change of clothes, and went back to see Lindsey. I grabbed a beer and walked out back, sprawling on the plastic lounge chair and listening to the night birds harmonize. There were no lights on in the apartment behind us, just the ever-present playpen.

I sat there for maybe half an hour, working things through my feeble mind. Maybe the lady on the phone was part of the scheme. Maybe she played along, telling everyone that Krueger was CIA, when in fact he was something else. “Born in the USA” blared from my pocket, and I remembered I hadn’t set the phone to vibrate yet. You’d think it would be the first thing I would have done.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Skip.”

“We’re talking again?”

“We’re talking. I’m not happy with the way I’ve been. Usually I can control my emotions a little better.”

“Hormones and all that.”

“I suppose.”

“And you’re seeing the doctor when?”

“Tomorrow. I can’t put it off any longer. I keep thinking if I don’t get medical confirmation, then it isn’t real.”

“But, of course, it is.”

“Of course.”

“And your other option?”

“I can’t do that. You know me better than that.”

“I thought I did. I guess I do.”

“You do.”

“Here’s a stupid question. Really stupid. With all that’s going on, this is going to sound really dumb.”

“Shoot.”

“Have you thought of a name?”

She laughed. And it sounded so good. “As a matter of fact, I have. If it’s a boy, Eugene is not on the list.”

“Thank God.”

“I like Troy and Aaron. For a girl I always thought I’d pick Alison.”

“One L?”

“One L.”

I took a long swallow of cheap beer and smiled. In spite of everything, Em was talking to me and, better yet, we were talking about the baby. Our baby. It meant that not everything in the world was fucked up.

“Tell me what you and your crazy roommate are cooking up.”

I told her about our conversation with Angel and my call to Krueger.

“You could always just assume that everything is going to be all right.”

“But it’s not. Vic may be in trouble, these Cubans have threatened our lives, and now we’ve been warned by the CIA. And it appears the CIA shouldn’t even be involved. Your friend Jackie is getting threatening phone calls, and we know something we’re not supposed to know. We know there’s a plot to invade Cuba. If we can prove any of this, we can go to the authorities.”

“And if we can’t prove any of it?”

“They may try to make sure we never do. Look, Em, there’s a much bigger risk now.”

“You mean because of me.”

“Yeah. I never had anything that I really cared about. Ever. I never took us-you and me-that seriously. I just never thought we’d end up together. I mean, I wanted to, I think, but now it’s different.”

“I’m not sure we’re going to end up together. Obviously the connection is a lot stronger, but, Skip, I’m not making any promises.”

“I’m not asking for any promises. But I do believe it’s worth fighting for. If I let this Cuban thing take over I’m putting everyone at risk.”

I could hear her breathing softly on the other end. “Don’t be a hero on my account, Skip. You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

“No. I don’t. I also have no idea where we are right now. I’ve got to take some initiative here. I’ve got to get some control of my life and quit letting other people make decisions that affect my life. Your life.”

“So, what do you propose?”

“I think we have to check out the warehouse one more time. We’ve got to find Victor. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”