Sometimes a Man has to Do a Thing

Then the hollow courtesy knock on his bedroom door before it was opened without his consent, like at the doctor's office. Donald Hughes stepped in first dressed in his casual attire, a pair of Dior beige twill pants and a blue Fiori Di Lusso suit jacket over a salmon Polo shirt. Despite his distinct salt and pepper hair he exuded a strength that dominated the space around him. His personal life mirrored his time at the law offices of Hughes, Garrett and Herschel in that very few ever dared to oppose him. Neither physically or verbally.

"Put that out." Donald commanded, snapping his fingers.

"You are so lucky the groundskeeper Arnold called me." Claudia appeared from behind her husband pointing an angry finger at her son. "What the hell were you thinking letting that detective into this house?"

Richard lowered his head and meekly shrugged his shoulders.

"That's not an answer now is it?" Donald asked taking a minute to check his Rolex watch. "Speak clearly and honestly so we can get this done, I've got to meet some friends in a couple of hours."

"Say less. What else is new?" Richard quipped.

The strike was sudden and sharp as his father open hand slapped him across the mouth. "Trouble seems to follow you like a beaten dog yet you keep feeding it with your horse shit." He snarled, grabbing his son by the throat.

Claudia tentatively put her hand on her husband's shoulder. "We don't need this now please. Richard I need you to tell me everything you know about that missing girl, because believe it or not they aim to hang this around your neck."

Donald pulled back while fixing his jacket then running a hand through his still lush hair, reestablishing his self control. Richard sulked, holding a hand to his reddening cheek. Claudia sat beside him on the bed, inwardly cringing at exposing her three thousand dollar Lace Knit Dress to her son's sordid mattress.

"Come here my love." She soothed, pulling him into her arms. "Your father is frustrated, and can you really blame him? Your behavior lately has left this family exposed to any number of legal threats and humiliations."

"Sorry mama." Richard whined into his mother's modest bosom.

"I know baby bear, now tell me about when you first met this girl." Claudia stroked her son's auburn hair out of his face.

It was a love story for the ages narrated by Richard Hughes. Money exchanged hands and Douglas Berkowitz supplied a formal introduction to the new girl at the Foxy Hole. After several shots of what Paul the bartender referred to as a Buttery Nipple followed by a lap dance, Richard drunkenly declared his love for butterscotch and the blonde goddess gyrating on his lap.

Haley and Richard's first date involved a hurried lunch and a long afternoon of window shopping at various jewelry stores in Nashville, where Richard bought his sweetheart a tennis bracelet with two matching 3.00 ct. VS2 clarity diamond earrings. Haley expressed her gratitude immediately that evening by fucking his brains out three times in quick succession leaving him sore, drained and woefully committed to her. And why not? She could always grow to love him over time, as long as he proved himself a stable pillar to support her dreams.

Haley Luffman was after all an aspiring dancer, singer, or even actress. The streets would simply accuse Richard of simping but they had no idea what it felt like to be under and inside a woman like that, staring into those serene blue eyes and seeing a future worth killing for.

"That weed has turned our son into a gotdamn poet." Donald mused. "Just skip to Sunday night please before Hollywood calls to cast you in your own love story."

"We fooled around a little in my car at the beginning of her shift, then I left." Richard stated, shrugging his shoulders again. "Came back here, smoked and played video games."

"Okay but there was no surveillance footage of you being there honey." Claudia spoke slowly. "Unless that blurry shadow figure was you. Was it?"

"That's what that detective asked me too, I only saw a piece of it on the news."

"They are moving fast on this one because it's already looking like a murder because of the torn panties and single shoe found near Dino's." Claudia said, getting up and pacing the room as her thoughts gained momentum. "I spoke to the DA early this morning about this and they're convinced that this will end in a murder trial. Richard honey you don't have a solid alibi to corroborate what you just said. The good news is that there is no clear video evidence of you being there. Bad news is that horrible CCTV footage could be you. Even worse they claim to have an eye witness who can put you on scene in the right time frame to fit their narrative making you the last person to see Haley Luffman."

"Alive." Donald Hughes added soberly.

***

Marvin Woodall was a complex madman, a certified menace that accepted money to dole out gruesome physical punishments. His loyalties lied with a Korean loan shark who he partnered with and handled difficult collections for. Her name was Kim Waters and she kept Donald Hughes' law firm on retainer. So when called upon she loaned the civil litigator the unique services of her personal henchman, with promises of a small kick back.

"Ten thousand up front." Donald offered with a stiff finality. "Another ten after you bring me proof it's been handled. Kim told me you don't end lives but if you could see your way to changing your mind on that, there's an additional fifteen involved."

Donald's personal Mercedes-Benz Maybach was parked out front of a newly built condominium complex in East Nashville where Marvin's third baby's mama resided. The polished lawyer usually had a driver to chauffeur him around but not when he had private business to tend to. Fewer witnesses he pondered while watching the five foot six, two hundred pound black man leaning in his passenger side window considering his generous offer. His father taught him that long ago. Make it so they can't say no.

"Miss Kim told me you're good people, but she wasn't real clear on the mission objective here." Marvin finally spoke up. "What are the repercussions surrounding this because I smell desperation?"

"Well Mr. Woodall there is always some level of risk involved in your line of work is there not?" Donald countered, sensing a verbal battle which strangely aroused him in the courtroom but only annoyed him in the streets.

"All I'm asking is why reach out like this? Man of many riches such as yourself should already have a team in place for times like these."

"You're cautious curiosity just convinced me I've found the right man." Donald said, lowering his defenses. "You are correct I did have a fixer but he turned out to be very unreliable."

"Who was it?" Marvin asked taking in the older white man's fleece lined lambskin leather jacket. "Another brother down on his luck probably huh?"

Donald avoided the impulse to smile at the other man's overt racism. "Greedy drug dealing pimp named Curtis Barlowe."

"Yeah heard he found out the hard way that he wasn't no angel, and thus couldn't fly." Marvin laughed, amused with himself. "Fuck it I'm in what are we doing? Can I get in it's cold as shit out here?"

"Have you heard of the strip club called the Foxy Hole?"

"Yeah, over by the airport." Marvin said climbing into the Mercedes and rolling up the window himself. "Damn this is elegant."

"There's a concrete divider about waist high that separates the strip club parking lot from the one next door."

"Dino's Spaghetti Warehouse." Marvin finished for him. "Did you know they recently added a mean calzone?"

"A homeless man has been taking shelter beside that divider for the past month now." Donald said, ignoring the other man's banter. "The locals affectionately refer to him as Flathead Frank."

"He an Injun?" Marvin asked seriously.

"No, I think it refers to him catching and eating the fish, I'm not real sure. But he is set to testify against my client here soon and I need him to reconsider what he saw. After all most of those street lights were out making it difficult to see anything."

"Couldn't bribe him huh?" Marvin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Straight to fucking him up?"

"Can't find him." Donald said throwing his hands up in frustration. "He pan handles all over that area and usually settles down beside that barricade, but not lately."

"What if the cops have him?"

"Then I guess I need to find another man." Donald stated looking Marvin in the face. "Might need a brother a little further down on his luck, willing to pull the trigger."

Marvin Woodall just smiled at that.

***

Marvin Woodall looked up at the sweeping Italian menu on the wall above the cashier. "Oh shit you guys have gluten free pasta now?"

"Yeah the owner's mom got diagnosed with Celiac disease last year." Giovanni informed him distractedly, while sliding a fresh batch of calzones into the giant pizza oven behind himself. "She stopped coming by for lunch and it broke everybody's heart."

Marvin looked around the busy dining area at Dino's Spaghetti Warehouse studying the early lunch crowd. He took a minute to admire an old couple seated near the front window sharing a bite of pasta and smiling after a quick saucy peck on the lips.

"I don't have Celiac yet, just a gluten sensitivity." Marvin offered staring back up at the colorful menu. "Yeah let me get the shrimp and Rotini gluten free."

The dish was prepared in less than twenty minutes, and Marvin spent the next hour picking it over while keeping an eye on the streets outside. His theory was that if Frank wasn't moving along his normal route that the authorities either scared him off or scooped him up for protection. It also wouldn't be too much of a stretch to consider Nashville police leaving unmarked units watching the scene of the crime.

By the time he wiped the extra sauce from his mouth and paid the check he had convinced himself that there were no hidden eyes watching or taking notes. Outside near the waist high barricade he kicked at the sad debris of what he assumed was Flathead Frank's makeshift campsite. Damp cardboard, crumpled cigarette pack, even a Gatorade bottle half filled with dark sickly piss.

"Ain't seen that pazzo around since that girl went missing." Giovanni called over while taking two trash bags out to the dumpster.

"Whose that" Marvin asked innocently.

"Flathead Frank." The young Italian answered, walking over and lighting a cigarette after dropping the garbage. "That crazy asshole had a whole setup at night, taped cardboard to the divider making some kind of roof even. I kicked his filthy ass one day to run him off, but then he just started camping out after we closed for the night. Always leaving this fucking bullshit behind." He kicked the piss bottle out into the street.

"Why here though this doesn't seem practical?" Marvin asked.

"You kidding me? With most of the airport traffic staying out there on the main roads, and with the shitty burnt out street lights he's damn near invisible over there at night." Giovanni laughed. "Besides in the summertime when they prop those doors open next door at Foxy's you might get lucky and see some tits."

"Right on." Marvin agreed, walking off.

With the Foxy Hole not yet open Marvin did a rapid check around the other three failing businesses on that side street before spending the rest of his afternoon in and around the airport. Armed with the old mugshot Donald had given him he cruised laps around the main thoroughfare before going inside and shouldering his way around multiple terminals. Cameras and armed security made him nervous so he popped in his earbuds and tried to remain hidden in the bustling crowds, even mimicking the same nonchalant attitudes of the hundreds of other travelers.

The sun began to set eventually Marvin noticed through the airport's giant ballistic glass windows. He scarfed the rest of his Orange Chicken and tossed the empty container in the trash, while still looking around. He was just haunting himself at that point, trying to find similarities in every old white guy he saw.

Donald Hughes had asked for nightly progress reports, and instead of calling Marvin decided to drive the fifteen minutes over to the law firm so the stiff white haired prick could see the sweat on his brow.

"Waldo don't wanna be found." The frustrated henchman muttered to himself.

Marvin Woodall parked his red Kia Sorento across the street from the business plaza that housed the three story law offices of Hughes, Garret, and Herschel. He took two more puffs of his Black and Mild cigar before exiting his car and crossing the road. The plaza was actually a cul-de-sac that consisted of corporate headquarters for several major franchises including Buffalo Wild Wings and Dollar General. The law firm's building was at the furthest end where one would turn to get back to the exit.

Marvin marched purposefully, so as not to look suspicious but pulled up short in front of a huge water fountain that decorated the center of the walkway. He felt his mood shift as he watched Donald Hughes arguing with a burly giant in the lobby of Hughes, Garret, and Herschel.

They were still roughly thirty yards away so Marvin took a seat on one of the decorative bronze benches in front of the fountain, and watched the smaller, older man pointing his finger angrily while verbally berating the slump shouldered brute that obviously worked for him somehow.

The bald, red bearded muscle man backed up defensively shaking his head in apology. Donald took a deep breath, running his hand over his well coiffed salt and pepper hair before reaching out to gently tap the six foot three giant on the shoulder.

"That's the dude from the strip club." Marvin muttered to himself fighting to remember his name. "Dougie??"

Marvin watched the tough guy lawyer take a phone call, nodding his head twice before handing the cellphone to Dougie who visibly paled at whatever was being spoken to him. The entire interaction was enough to spook the suspicious black man who slowly stood up while watching the windows around him, as his balls tightened feeling invisible eyes on him.

"Fuck this." he mumbled before turning and speed walking back to his car.

***

"Pauly let me get another Jack and Pepsi for the lady here." Richard Hughes called out to the bartender at the Foxy Hole.

"Thanks darling." Tiffany purred, rubbing her slick, glittery double D breasts on his arm. "It's been a long fucking night." She confided in him sitting on the stool beside him at the bar.

"I can imagine with business down lately." He observed, blinking against the showroom lights and seeing only five single customers scattered around the near empty strip club. "Sad part is half the guys in here might be Metro undercover."

"Don't be an asshole." Tiffany giggled. "You know how many blowjobs I had to give out tonight to supplement the lack of tips?"

"Never figured this job was a labor of love." Richard said almost bitterly.

"That's mean." The aging dancer said, warning him with her eyes. "Look I know Haley meant something to you, hell I'm sick about her too. But that's the nature of the game hon, girls come and go everyday. Maybe she decided this life ain't for her and managed to find a way back to Kentucky."

"Without her car?" Richard snapped. "And no fucking underwear?"

"Yeah, freaked me out after that lady cop told me. Just got done smoking a rock, that's why I sent her to you." Tiffany admitted. "Listen I know Haley was new to this but she wasn't no better than the rest of us. She danced and sold her pussy too, except her's might of still been a little tighter. Remember what you came in here for that night, what you paid for. A quick fuck in the champagne room, nobody told you to go and fall in love."

"She was different." Richard sulked. "Dougie called her fresh because she hadn't been with that many guys yet. I was gonna take her out of this shit hole."

Paul the bartender showed up with the drink, breaking the tension of the moment.

"Here Tiff." He said deftly sliding the glass to her. "Hey Richie Doug just got back and wants to have a word with you."

"He say what he wanted?" Richard asked.

Paul didn't answer as he turned his attention to a pair of thirsty cowboys that had just stumbled into the strip club, he merely pointed Richard to the small dark storage closet near the left side of the center stage.

"If Haley don't turn up just keep your eye out for the next fresh fish." Tiffany advised walking away while sipping her drink.

Richard patted his pockets making sure he had his baggie of weed edibles before walking toward the center stage, as he sometimes shared his drugs with the friendly bouncer in various hideaways at the Foxy Hole. Right when he walked past the men's room two giant hairy hands reached out and snatched him inside.

"I never should've gave you that girl." Douglas grimaced, pinning Richard by the throat up against one of the stall doors. "What did you do to her?"

"What the fuck're you talking about?" Richard choked.

"I sold you some pussy not her future you fucking weirdo." Douglas growled, fighting back tears.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Was all the frightened man child could manage, vainly fighting the white knuckled fists around his neck. "She wanted out man, it was her idea."

The furious giant let him go and took a step back, guarding the bathroom door. "All these whores want out, you think I don't know that shit? You think I don't know who every bitch in here is fucking and sucking? After Haley was broke in I was like the third one to fuck her I get it she was amazing."

"What?" Richard asked in his small guy voice.

"Before I introduced you to her I hooked her up with some other punk rich kid who promised her the same shit. A better fucking life. She probably fucked you the next week just to see if you could beat the other kids offer. I guess not huh?" Douglas barked a harsh laugh. "Which one of you love sick perverts did it?"

"I had no idea..." Richard began slowly.

"Sure you did. I also saw you up here that night Richie." The brute took a menacing step forward. "I haven't seen the other little prick he stopped coming in."

"See? So he probably stayed away hoping you'd forget his face." He quickly pointed out. "Needed time to plan all this shit too."

"You were here Richie. Sunday when Haley went missing I saw you, not him." Douglas closed the distance, towering over his prey. "It was you who kept going on and fucking on about how much you cared about her."

"I don't know what you expect me to say Dougie."

"Don't Dougie me man. Not now." Douglas warned in a cold whisper. "You put me in deep with some scary men bro. If I can't get her back then my whole world is fucked."

"It's me man, Richie. I didn't do..."

The brute cut him off by slamming him back into the stall door and forcing his tree trunk forearm into the struggling kid's windpipe. "Don't tell me that now. 'Cause if you don't bring her back, then I got no use for you right?"

"Please."

"Or if you went and killed her out of jealousy then I might as well take it out on you now." Douglas switched his grip and once again wrapped his meaty hands around Richard's throat strangling him. "Don't give a fuck whose kid you are cocksucker."

His lungs burned as they fought for a new breath, the world darkening at the edges of his vision, the red bearded, snarling mad man choking the very life out of him, Richard actually squeaked like a chew toy as he went limp.

"Police! Hands up! Hands up!" Someone shouted as they banged through the men's room door, Richard mercifully collapsed to the ground. Before slipping from consciousness he watched three uniformed patrol officers tase and wrestle the violent bouncer to the ground, cuffing him with two sets of handcuffs.