9 Seconds of Freedom, Original Suspense fiction, Part 13, links to parts 1-12

When I woke to the sound of sausages sizzling, I knew it was going to be a good day. I’d been in town two days longer than I intended. I still hadn’t gotten to number one on my to do list.

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READ PART FIVE

READ PART SIX

READ PART SEVEN

READ PART EIGHT

READ PART NINE

READ PART TEN

READ PART ELEVEN

READ PART TWELVE

That was okay. The things she did to eggs made me want to forget it all and settle down.

“This is amazing,” I said.

“Well, I had to pay you back for the strip show last night,” Leeanne said.

She’d cooked link sausages and scrambled eggs, with spices I had never tasted. It was the best breakfast I’d ever eaten. Well, for the last six months anyway. I noticed that the fuzzy memories swimming by had all but stopped.

It must have been my focus on things outside myself. I’d decided, I at least had to stick around long enough to find out what score Leeanne had to settle with the mayor. Then I could decide if I wanted to help, or mind my own business.

Although I still hadn’t emptied my truck bed, I was determined to make it to Vern’s antique store that day. I had to know if he had any information about the bear. The feeling that someone was depending on me had been fading, and I didn’t like that. If someone was waiting, I had to find out who.

Leeanne poured me a second glass of juice. I decided to talk about work. It was the best way to avoid awkward questions I didn’t want to answer.

“So, next up is measuring for windows. Once we get those ordered, we start tearing out the plaster. That will make any electrical or plumbing issues easy to get to,” I said.

“Okay,” she said. “You’re the expert here, I’m just the project manager.”

“About that, if you don’t know construction, how did you end up with that job?” I asked.

Leeanne laughed. “I didn’t know I had until he said it to you yesterday. I think Fred just likes to see the best in people,” she said.

By eight, we were ready to head to work. That’s when it got a little awkward.

“Time for the walk of shame,” Leeanne said.

“Why? We literally did nothing but talk,” I said.

“Right, but who’s going to believe us?” she said. “It’s cool, just go with it. I promise, Fred and Ben won’t give us any flak.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” I said.

“Nana Murphy, on the other hand, is going to read you the ten commandments,” she said.

“Who is Nana Murphy?” I asked.

“The cashier we’re about to meet at the bottom of those stairs,” Leeanne said.

She smiled. She was loving this.

“Everyone already thinks I’m a ho, won’t hurt my rep a bit. Good luck,” she said.

She sashayed down the stairs, like a woman who’s had the night of her life.

“Mm,” she said. “Thanks a lot, lover boy.”

Great. Now I had to follow that. I walked down. I could feel my face turning beet red. Whoever I’d been in the past, I couldn’t imagine I’d been much of a lady’s man.

Surely this wouldn’t embarrass me so much.

“Don’t worry, Mr. West,” Nana Murphy said. “Your secret is safe with me.”

She looked at me with a sideways glance, then started laughing.

I was confused. “Thought you said she’d read me the ten commandments,” I said.

“Please, I broke four of them before I was eighteen,” Nana said.

“Besides, I have a nose for this stuff and if the two of you shared a bed last night, I’m the first lady,” Ms. Murphy said.

We went down the steps to the basement, where Fred was waiting.

“Okay, I’ve got a dumpster coming in this afternoon. What all do you need for removing the plaster?” he asked.

I made a list of tools we’d need. We loaded them into the panel van. I drove to the work site. This time only Leeanne came along.

“Why didn’t Fred come today?” I asked.
“He’s got a truck coming in, so he’s needed at the store,” she said.

That made sense. We started on the top floor. I called out measurements from each window opening, while Leeanne marked them down on a floor plan print out Fred had given us.

By the time we got halfway through the second floor, we had the system down.

“48 ¼ by 23,” I said.

“Got it,” she said.

There were over 20 windows in the first two floors, enough to keep me busy installing for a week. I was starting to hope I would be here that long.

We had lunch under the shade tree again, with Fred and Ben joining us. There was no sign of the sheriff, or the mayor however. The day was going perfectly.

While Leeanne and I packed up the lunch stuff, Ben and Fred went inside. They were planning to join us to start the demo process. This should be fun.

We opened up the back of the panel truck and took out four sledge hammers and a pair of heavy pry bars. As we walked to the porch, our two partners in crime came back out. I stopped. Leeanne laughed out loud.

Standing on the porch, looking like they were heading into surgery, were Ben and Fred. They both had on Tyvek paper suits, booties, shower caps and goggles.

They looked ridiculous. But it got worse. The laugh must have been the reaction they were going for. Grinning from ear to ear, they looked at each other.

“Ready?” Ben said.

“Ready,” Fred said.

With that, they both pulled out gas masks and put them on.
“We’re breaking plaster, you look more like you’re ready to Break Bad. All you need now is a Winnebago and a truckload of cold medicine,” Leeanne said.

“You two are going to suffocate in those,” I said.

I pulled a dampened bandana over my face and picked up a hammer. Leeanne followed my example.

“Who’s with me?” I said.

Raising the hammer over my head. I ran into the house. For the first few minutes, we all just let off steam, busting holes in every wall. After that, we dropped into a steady rhythm and started to make good progress.

If you’ve never busted out plaster and lath, it’s fun.

It’s the kind of work that doesn’t take much skill. As the wall opens up in front of you, you feel like you’re making fast progress, and you get to smash things you’ve been taught all your life to be careful of.

After an hour of swinging hammers, and ripping down huge chunks of ceiling, we were ready for a break. Ben and Fred pealed out of their Tyvek suits as we made our way outside to catch a breeze.

Leeanne dragged the hose out and we all took turns wetting our heads, which feels amazing when you’re that hot and dusty.

A truck rumbled to a stop in front of the house. The driver climbed down, giving us a funny look.

“Where do you want this dumpster?” he asked.

Ben showed him where to park it in the alley and he backed his truck around and let it down. Fred signed his clipboard and the driver came around front.

“Do you mind?” he asked.

He pointed to the hose.

“Help yourself,” Leeanne said.

The man picked up the hose and took a long drink.

“Man, that reminds me of being a kid every time. Thanks guys. See you next week,” he said.

He climbed into his truck and ground up into first gear and was gone.

As his truck pulled away from the alley, I caught a glimpse of a familiar black sports sedan. It sat in the alley on the other side of the street, almost covered by a leafy shrub, but it was unmistakable.

I didn’t have time to mess with Hal today. A plan began to form in my mind. As I manned the wheelbarrow, Ben and Fred shoveled plaster into it. Then I wheeled it out. The dumpster had a door that opened at one end. I ran the wheelbarrow up into the dumpster and tipped the busted plaster out at the far end.

The pile grew fast.

With each trip, my plan grew. I’d decided to trust Leeanne. I’d been keeping this secret about my memory for six months. Other than the doctor and the cops in Kansas, no one suspected. It would be nice to have someone on my side.

I hoped that would happen. It might freak her out. I’d have to take that chance.

Seeing Hal had reminded me of an idea I’d shrugged off the night before. They must have tracked my truck somehow. I still needed to empty it out, but with Hal following me, that presented a whole host of risks I didn’t want. I had to shake him.

I made trips to the dumpster until I couldn’t push the wheelbarrow any more. The downstairs was stripped to the rafters, except for pulling nails and some detail work, and Ben and Fred looked exhausted. We decided to call it a day and they shed their Tyvek and left for home.

“Want to have some fun?” I asked.

Leeanne grinned.

“Sure, this have anything to do with loser boy’s spying on us?” She said. She waved toward Hal’s car.

“Everything,” I said.

“Perfect. What do you need me to do?” She asked.

I outlined my plan and picked up the Hitachi nailer on the way out of the house. I went out the back, under cover of the tall fence. I made my way around the block, to the alley where Hal was parked. I was hoping he had his windows up. This was going to be a little noisy.

I moved in low, staying behind trash cans and the corners of garages. The alley was gravel, and lined with wooden fences on both sides. I could see Hal’s trunk at the other end. I got to his car, then waited. If I didn’t time it right, he’d hear me and there would be trouble.

A few seconds later, I saw what I was waiting for. The panel truck pulled around the corner, honking. Leeanne was behind the wheel, with my big jacket on. She wore a cap I’d found under the seat, pulled low over her eyes. I felt Hal sit up. The car rocked. He started the engine.

It was time. I’d clicked the selector to bump mode on the nail gun. As I hit each tire with the plunger tip, a 3-inch framing nail exploded into it. As Hal put the car in drive and pulled forward, his tires began to deflate. He’d hardly made it a block when he had to stop.

“Dammit!” he yelled. He climbed out and came around the back to look at the damage. He pounded his trunk and looked back to where I was, hidden in the alley, laughing.

Leeanne pulled the panel truck back around the block and I opened the doors and threw the nail gun in the back, waving to Hal. He ran toward me. I darted around to the passenger side of the truck and climbed up. Leeanne took off.

Since we only had three blocks on him, we had to move fast. We parked the panel truck in the basement, locked up and ran to my truck. I rolled underneath it and looked up.

There was the tracker, just as I’d expected. It was attached to a magnet and rested on top of a frame piece.
For this to work, they had to believe the tracker was still in place. So, I left it. We climbed into the truck and headed out. I laughed.

“We’re like Bonnie and Clyde,” she said.

“Dear God, let’s hope not. That didn’t end well,” I said.

“See, serious. Always serious,” she said.

She gave me a somber look, then burst out laughing.
“That was fun. Now what?” she asked.

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