The Hogue Dossier

"Mike stepped in and took the fall for him. He got six more months, and Martin was released two months later. Mike became kingpin, nobody else in the posse was smart enough, and they liked the easy life. They been tighter than brothers ever since."

The foster parents were surprisingly reticent to talk about Mike. The man refused to say anything. The woman just smiled.

"My husband was an abusive asshole. We only became foster parents for the money. He treated Mike like shit for a couple of months, making him work part time and taking his money. Then one night he got carried away in an argument and slapped me so hard I fell and hit my head on the coffee table. I was only out for a few seconds, but when I got my senses back he was on the floor and Mike was beating the hell out of him. I got him to stop before he killed him. Mike pulled him up and pinned him against the wall. He put his face up to his and said in a clear, calm voice that if he ever touched me again he'd die slow and painfully. That was fifteen years ago, and he hasn't offered to hit me since. He knows all I have to do is make a call and he'll be hurt just as bad."

"I was scared at the rage I saw, and got him into judo, thinking it would calm him down. He was a natural, and went to class five times a week, getting his first degree black belt in just under two years."

"He got his scholarship in track. He still holds the state high school record in long jump. You ever seen him jump? I don't know where he learned it, but he launches himself and seems to fold up and reduce his wind resistance. The coach tried to train him to jump the normal way, but when he started setting records he let it go."

"He sends me Christmas and Birthday presents, and cash now and then. When I got breast cancer a few years ago he paid the full bill. He loves me, I think, but he refuses to see me as long as I'm married to my husband. The funny thing is, as long as Mike is a presence in our lives, he's an almost perfect husband."

This lead Dr. Parker to his college coaches and friends.

"Mike was always a little distant. Oh, he was friendly, but was pretty much a loner. Then he moved out of the dorms and into the house of his mentor, Mrs. Madison, and we hardly saw him."

Mrs. Madison was in her sixties now.

"I remember Mike. Best lover I ever had. Hung doesn't even begin to describe him. Just a hair over ten inches, and I'm not kidding. I measured it once. Ten and one eight. He made me very happy, after I got used to him. We met at a mixer for the college. I'm a big donor, and they sent him to escort me. The first time we danced and I felt that huge thing rubbing my stomach, I knew I had to have it. We were good for each other. I taught him good manners, how to dress, how to be a good companion. He moved into my house eight weeks into his freshman year as my 'assistant'. One of his main duties was assisting me have orgasms as often as possible. He stayed with me until he graduated. We basically lived as man and wife. I don't think he even had a girlfriend. Said I was giving him all he could handle."

"I was at the Olympics as his guest. I was the first one he hugged when he stepped off the podium. It broke my heart when he graduated. I'm worth quite a bit, and offered to sign a contract saying he could have seventy five percent if he stayed with me for ten more years. He made love to me all night long and was gone the next day. I cried for a month. He came out for a vacation right after he lost his TV show, and stayed two weeks. He still calls, sends gifts, but our time is over. Now, If you'll excuse me, I'm going to look at some old pictures and cry my eyes out all over again."

Even at her age, Mrs. Madison was still a stunner.

She thought they may be able to get something out of his former assistant, now retired and living in Arizona. Two men were sent.

Kathryn laughed at them.

"You want some free advice? Tell your bosses to quit while they're losing. Here, it's for you."

She handed them the phone. The voice of Mike Hogue boomed out of the speakers. It had a definite chill in it.

"This has stopped being funny. Quit aggravating my friends, or I'm going to push back, hard. You make sure you give them that message. Now, I suggest you apologize to the nice lady for taking up her time, and leave."

One of the investigators, embarrassed by being dismissed like a child, got belligerent.

"You're in San Francisco. Maybe I need to be a bit firmer with the old lady, what are you gonna do?"

They could hear the humor in his voice.

"Do you know for a fact where I am? I might be standing right behind you."

The other detective looked behind them on instinct and paled.

"Brian, we need to go. We need to go NOW!"

The other investigator sneered.

"You gonna let someone hundreds of miles away and an old lady scare you? Buck up, you wimp."

Before he could respond a voice spoke from behind him. He whirled around.

A tall man with silver hair stood in the doorway with three friends. Each had a golf club in their hands. The man that spoke was holding a Glock .40 in one hand, the biggest driver he had ever see in the other. He turned towards the woman, thinking to use her as a shield if it got any more tense.

She had taken the distraction to pull a Judge revolver out of a drawer. A big gun at any time, in her small hand it looked enormous.

He heard the man speak.

"Leave quietly, or I'll let Bob show you his slice. He'll aim for your knees, and will hit your balls."

"Hey!" the man called Bob protested, to the laughter of his friends. Kathryn spoke.

"You need to leave. NOW. And if you get stupid and try to hurt my intended, I'm afraid I'll be forced to shoot. This thing has shotgun shells in it, I'm not the marksman he is."

Recognizing defeat, they turned to leave. The voice of Mike came through the speaker.

"Tell your boss this is the last incident I'll tolerate. One more and I come hunting. Make sure everyone involved understands."

They heard him disconnect.

The men escorted the agents to the garage.

"One more thing" said the man called Bob, "we need your wallets. I'm a retired federal judge, as is he, and this fellow is a retired district attorney. We find you interesting, so we'll do a little background, see if any bones fall out of your closet. Don't worry. Being the fine upstanding citizens we are, we'll return the 'found" wallets. I'll send them the address on your cards, overnight. They'll be home almost before you will.

They were about to protest, when the belligerent one felt someone tap his shoulder. He turned to see the woman, gasping in pain when she kneed him in the balls.

"That's for calling me an old woman."

They weren't ten miles away, on the way back to the hotel, when they were pulled over. He was given a ticket for not having a license, that carried a hefty fine, and the state trooper politely suggested that the dry desert air didn't agree with them.

...............................................

Her report included all the interviews, and an analysis of his mental state.

"Mr. Hogue could be a borderline physcopath, he exhibits a lot of the markers. capable of great violence when threatened, he can be kind and generous to strangers. He never really had the chance to develop a moral compass. Due to his looks and sexual endowments, he is slightly narcissitic, believing if it's best for him it's best all round."

"The only serious relationship he ever seems to have had was with a transsexual. He was ever engaged to her briefly before she broke it off."

"His IQ is just over genius level, and shouldn't be underestimated. His mind, coupled with his size and ruthless attitude, makes him a very dangerous adversary. He employs highly capable people who are almost fanatically loyal."

She sighed as she filed the report, wondering where it was going. She had read the Atlanta report and shuddered. She was three layers removed from the actual investigations, that should keep her safe. She didn't even want to consider what might happen if he found out the chain leading to his investigation ran straight to her.

Her mystery employer better be really careful. She didn't know what his end game was. She suspected the investigation had little to do with business. The whole thing felt personal. Remembering the old saying about grabbing a tiger by the tail, once you did you couldn't let go at the risk of being eaten, she firmly hoped he had a good grip.

She received a nice check, with instructions to keep digging. She had no idea why, but it was his money so she had the investigation ramped up a little more, getting more aggressive. They tried unsuccessfully to bug his office. They found what they thought to be a weak link in his tech support, a man who was deeply in debt due to the cancer his wife was trying to beat. Surprisingly, he refused their overtures and told his boss.

When Mike got the story he called the man in for a report, and when he left he had tears in his eyes. Mike had all the hospital bills sent directly to his office, and arranged for a part time caregiver to help with his wife.

A story like that couldn't be contained, and his employees, already loyal, closed ranks like nothing else.

They also couldn't get into his home to plant bugs. The top of the line security system caught two men breaking into his apartment. They wore no masks, so in less than a day he had their names. Two days later they were sitting in a warehouse being "interviewed" by members of Hermando's old gang. This led to several steps up the food chain and eventually to Dr. Parker.

Jill Parker was sitting at an outside table of her favorite lunch spot, enjoying the sunshine, when she felt eyes on her. Looking up, she saw a man several tables over staring at her. It was Mike Hogue, and he wasn't smiling. He got up and moved to her table, sitting without asking. He smiled. It was a shark smile, no warmth.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Parker. The sunshine sure feels nice, doesn't it?"

She tried to speak twice before she was finally able to say anything.

"Excuse me, do I know you?"

He actually laughed, a genuine laugh filled with amusement.

"Please, Dr. Parker. You probably know me better than anyone. You've had me followed, delved extensively into my private life past and present for months now. I thought we'd save a lot of time by meeting and let you ask questions directly."

"Please Jill, oh, you don't mind if I call you Jill do you? Actually, I think I'll call you Jilly, it's much less formal between friends, don't you agree. And make no mistake, Jilly, we WILL become very good friends. If not, I make a pretty bad enemy."

He paused to let her process what he had said, continuing before she could speak.

"And tell the Manetti brothers to back off. They're way over their head here, and have no idea who they're fooling with. Tell them to be happy being midlevel thugs, and stay out of the big time. They have neither the juice nor the balls to make it. They'll get eaten alive by their competitors, if I don't decide to deal with them first."

She tried to keep her face impassive, but her mind was reeling. How could he possibly know so much?

His face shifted from cold dispassion to mild concern.

"Jilly, bear something in mind. The people you're dealing with, the big guys, don't recognize borders. If they don't get to you directly, it could spill over onto your family. Emily is a beautiful girl, and Tommy is a fine boy. Try to keep their best interests in mind while you play these dangerous games."

He stood up.

"Lunch is on me, Jilly. Walk away, and don't look back. It will be better for everyone."

She watched him walk away, idly noticing when a huge Hispanic man followed him at a discrete distance.

She was scared, more scared than any time in her life. She got hold of the Manetti brothers, told them what happened.

"He told me to tell you to back off, Emilio, or bad things could happen to you. I don't know if that scares you, but it should. I have the feeling he knows way more about you than you think. Everything I've learned about him tells me that if he snaps, people will die, badly. I don't think anyone has any idea how much carnage he could cause. Please Emilio, think about what I said, and tell your friend I'm burned, and I won't be any help to him any longer. Tell him I'm sorry, and I was glad to help, what little it was."

Emilio wasn't impressed. The man was huge, but he was a fancy real estate agent. How dangerous could he be? And it was a fact, if you couldn't get to the man, get to those close to him.

The man refused to let Jill go, so she kept the watch going.

That's when she went to sleep in her home in San Francisco and woke up on an island halfway around the world.