J. Black - The Shop

The morning was sunny, but there had been some chop in the open bay. Weather reports did not lie.

A storm was coming.

43

As they tied up, Landry spotted a girl lying on the other dock. She looked exactly like a Barbie doll. Tanned Barbie, maybe. She was lying on a chaise cushion that had been dragged out to the dock, talking to a member of Franklin’s security detail. Big guy, biceps that only came from hours in the gym, his Danehill Security cap sitting atop a bulging shaved neck like a child’s beanie. He dangled his feet in the water. Landry could hear hip-hop music coming from somewhere. He detested hip-hop music. He glanced at Franklin. The man’s face was grim.

“That Riley?” Landry asked him.

“Uh-huh.” The way he said it showed he was simmering. “She’s after the help again.”

The help, Landry thought. Like Luke Perdue. He hopped down from the boat to the dock and started walking in their direction.

Franklin rushed up behind him, trying to keep up. “What are you doing?”

“You’ll see.” He crossed to the other dock and strode toward the two people at the end. He didn’t pause when he reached them but let the momentum carry him right up to the moment he pushed his foot into the security man’s back, toppling him into the water.

The man had time to say “Hey!” before he hit. He made a big splash—probably weighed 240.

The guy stood up in the waist-high water. His face was red, either from the sun or from anger, except for the white triangle of zinc oxide on his nose. “You mother fucker, what’d you do that for?” he yelled, trying to get up on the dock. He had to pull with his arms and hands.

Landry stepped on one of the hands. “You know what my wife’s favorite TV show is?”

The guy just stared at him.

“ Celebrity Apprentice . You ever watch Celebrity Apprentice ?’”

“What the fuck? What are you talking about? Get off my fucking hand!”

“Donald Trump? Remember the part where he says, ‘You’re fired’? Well, that’s what you are, chum. You’re fired.”

“Get your foot off my hand!” The guy looked at Franklin. “Who the fuck is this fucker?”

Franklin looked nervous, but said, “He’s my new security.”

Landry was really starting to like Franklin.

“You can’t fire me. We’ve got a contract—”

Landry’s foot came off the man’s hand and toed into his larynx. You could overdo it, so Landry pulled back at the last moment and tipped up the chin, just enough pressure to send the man back into the water.

“Daddy!” screamed Riley.

The guy stood up again. He looked up at Landry and let out another string of profanities laced with obscenities. Landry felt uncomfortable with that. He was raised the old-fashioned way, and you didn’t curse in front of a lady. But a glance at Riley told him she wasn’t one, so he let it go.

She looked avid. Like a cat waiting for a mouse’s next move.

Landry returned his attention to the security guy. For a moment Landry thought the guy would lunge at him, but then he thought better of it and waded to shore. He emptied his cap into the water and slapped it against the dock, then glared at Franklin. Franklin took a step back.

“You don’t have to fire me. I quit!”

“Daddy, what are you doing?” demanded Riley.

Franklin glanced at her and then back at the security guard. “I want all of you off-property ASAP. I’ll settle up with your boss.”

“Fuck you.”

The E-Team.

Riley tagged along as they went to the security center situated in a metal outbuilding not far from the main house. She wasn’t the only one who tagged along. A pack of dogs joined them, mostly terrier types. Yapping and snapping, making Landry wonder how thick his socks were.

In the security center, Frank reiterated his position, this time to the chief of security, whose name was Melvin Graus. He told Graus that Danehill was no longer providing protection for the island. The chief was understandably upset. First he tried intimidation, then he tried logic, then wheedling, and back to intimidation. To his credit, Franklin stood firm.

“You know there’s a provision in here about premature termination of the contract,” said Graus. “You’re going to have to pay us a substantial amount in penalties.”

“You can talk to my accountant about that.”

“I’ve never heard of Salter Security.” He glared at Landry. “Are you sure of this guy’s bona fides?”

“His bona fides are fine,” Franklin said.

Landry liked Franklin better all the time.

“Okay then. You’ll be hearing from our attorney.”

Franklin said to Graus, “I want you off the property by noon today.”

Landry leaned near Franklin’s ear and said, “Eleven.”

“Eleven today. Eleven sharp.”

“But we have equipment to move, electronics—we can’t just pack up like we’re in the circus.”

“You’d better get to it then.”

Landry said to Franklin, “Boss?”

“Yes?” He sounded slightly bemused at Landry calling him boss.

“Do you want me to escort Mr. Graus out?”

“Yes, you do that.”

“I can find my own way out,” Graus said stiffly.

Landry stood over Graus and held his eyes. “I’ll want to see your inventory.”

“That’s bullshit.”

Landry said to Franklin, “It’s a precaution. We wouldn’t want him walking off with any equipment he doesn’t own.”

Franklin said, “I hardly think he would do that—”

Landry ignored him and remained where he was—towering over Graus. He felt Graus’s confusion, calculated the moment the smaller man would take a step backward. He was off by about two seconds.

“All right, if that’s what you want,” Graus said to Franklin.

“Good, I’ll meet you—all of you—by the guard’s gate at eleven hundred hours,” Landry said. He held Graus’s eyes until the man looked away.

After Graus was gone, Frank said, “I need to practice what I’m going to say to Cardamone. Mike is a smart guy. He’ll know something’s up if I don’t sound convincing.”

Landry was sure Franklin would be convincing, but he said, “Okay. But I’m going to need to see the grounds.”

Frank led the way out of the security center. He seemed pleased with himself. Standing up to someone was probably a rare occurrence for him. Landry noticed Riley looking at her dad in a new way. She was looking at Landry, too, but her look for Landry was different.

As they walked in the direction of the octagon house, Franklin took the lead, pointing out hidden cameras and infrared sensor grids. “A lot of the equipment was installed by the Secret Service for Owen’s visits,” Franklin said. He added for Landry’s edification, “The veep. This stuff is all inactive right now. Some of the equipment is Danehill’s, but not much. Are you sure you guys have it covered?”

“You’re covered. You can’t see our people, but they’re there.”

“When I was in the DOJ, I had a very good relationship with the FBI.”

“That’s good to know,” Landry said.

They continued on. Franklin walked on ahead, rehearsing his lines for his upcoming conversation with Cardamone. He was far enough ahead so they couldn’t hear what he was saying. Riley moved closer to Landry and said, “Why do you keep looking around like that?” she asked.

“Like what?”

“Back and forth.”

“Looking for threats.”

“But you said the FBI has it covered.”

“Ever heard of measure twice, cut once?”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“I can’t believe Daddy stood up to Graus that way.”