Machine by Normandie Alleman
31
Bridger
“So you’ve takencare of your mother, at least for now.”
We were at my apartment, and Dynassy had just finished telling me about how her conversation with her mother had gone. She’d been spending so much time at my place since we’d gotten back from Milan that she’d practically moved in, and I couldn’t have been more thrilled. The media frenzy had died down somewhat, and I’d grown more accustomed to life in the spotlight. After all, when you got involved with a member of the Barnes family, you had to accept that a big part of your life was now fair game for the paparazzi and the tabloids, whether you liked it or not.
We had big plans for how to integrate our lives, and the planning was going well. But there was one thing that kept bothering me. Our patent had gone through, so whoever was stealing our machine was infringing on our legal rights, and I wasn’t going to sit still for that.
“Are you sure you’re up to doing this?” I asked her.
“Yes, but I still can’t see Sal being a thief.”
“I didn’t believe it either, but I’m almost sure it’s him.”
“Well, if it is, our plan ought to flush him out.” She laughed. “The whole thing makes me feel kinda like a spy. Are you sure Saturday is the best day to try it?”
“Yeah. Sal likes to do his paperwork when it’s quieter. You’re less likely to draw attention. During the week, the place is just too busy, and on Sundays the place is closed.”
The next day, I threaded a wire between Dynassy’s breasts, under her clothes, trying not to allow her magnificent body to distract me.
“How is it you know how to do this stuff?” she asked.
“I’m a SEAL, remember?”
“You guys do this kind of stuff?”
“Baby, we do all kinds of stuff. And yes, surveillance is one of them.”
Her eyes lit up. “Cool. You know, you’re really hot when you’re being all SEAL-like.”
I bit back a smile, but she kept going.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to strip-search me. Just to make sure I’m fully prepared for this mission.”
I recognized that lusty look on her face, and as badly as I wanted to give in, I needed to focus on the job at hand.
“We can do that later,” I said with my sternest look.
With a sigh, she gave up. “Fine. I’ll behave.”
“I’ll take you up on that later,” I promised. “Try to get him to admit he stole the designs, okay?”
“Got it,” she said with a salute.
I rushed her into the car before I changed my mind and let her distract me. I didn’t want us to miss our chance and have to wait another week to have this settled.
I switched cars with Barvo for the weekend so I could drive something that wouldn’t be recognized. Barvo normally drove a Porsche, but he’d held on to the pickup truck he used to drive, and that was the one I was borrowing. It blended in better than a high-end sports car would.
There is was—Sal’s Toyota, parked in his spot.
“He’s here. Are you ready for this?” I asked. Part of me felt bad, asking Dynassy to do this, but the man was stealing from our business, and Dynassy was about to become a part of that business in a way. She offered to do it, and I’d be able to hear everything that was going on, thanks to the wire she was wearing.
Not only would I be listening, but I’d be recording every word that was uttered.
I’d given her the key so she could let herself in, in case it was locked, and I heard the bell jingle as the front door opened. I’d given her instructions not to stop, to go to Sal’s office at the back, taking advantage of the element of surprise.
Over the wire, a door creaked.
“Hi,” Dynassy said.
The flustered voice of my boss Sal came next. “Hi there, Dynassy. I wasn’t expecting to see you here today. The shop is mostly closed on Saturday. Everything all right with your car?”
“Yeah. The car is great. You guys did a super job fixing it. You’d never know it had been in an accident.”
“Good to hear. Good to hear.” He was repeating himself because he was nervous. Good. She had him right where I wanted him. “What can I do for you then?”
“Well, Sal, a little birdie told me that somebody who works here has invented a machine that has been featured all over the internet, and I had some questions about it.”
“What kind of machine?”
She laughed. “A naughty one.”
“A naughty one, huh?” he laughed nervously.
She nodded. “My friends and I…we were thinking about branching out, doing some movies, and we thought you might be able to help.”
“Your friends?”
“Yeah, some other girls who are models.”
“Honey, I don’t know if this is some kind of come on or what, but I gotta tell ya, I’m too old for all that.”
“Oh.” Her voice was flat. “You don’t know anyone who makes machines for girls?”
“Sorry, but I don’t. I just fix cars, and lately, with my prostate, I can’t do near as much of that as I used to.”
“Oh, all right. I just thought…” Her voice trailed off.
“Wish I could help you,” Sal said, and the sincerity in his voice made me realize I’d been wrong. He wasn’t the guy.
“Do you mind if I use your restroom on the way out?” Dynassy asked.
“Not a problem. It’s up front. Help yourself.”
“Thanks,” Dynassy said.
Then I heard a few doors opening and closing.
Then, “I can’t believe I did that. How embarrassing!”
Oh yeah. She was going to kill me. That was obvious.
Then I heard another deep voice. “Hey, did I hear you say you were looking for someone who makes machines for girls?”
Water running. “Uh, yeah. I was. You know anything about that?” Dynassy asked, but she sounded nervous.
Who was she talking to?
“Because I might know someone,” the male voice said. “Depends who’s askin’ and why.”
“I was looking to make some movies with one. Me and some of my friends.”
“No you weren’t. I think your little boyfriend Bridger set you up to do this.” The voice grew menacing, and I bolted out of the car and started running for the building.
I got there in seconds, and just as I started to fling open the front door, I realized it was locked. The asshole must have locked it behind himself when he came in. Dynassy had my key, and she was inside.
Banging on the door and yelling for Sal, I knew I couldn’t wait. Putting my shoulder into it, I broke the door down and ran into the women’s restroom.
One of my fellow mechanics, Peter, had Dynassy up against the wall. The look in her eyes was one of sheer terror.
Peter turned around, but before he could mount a defense, I threw him off her. Then I hurled him head-first against the sink. A sick, cracking noise filled the air as cranium and porcelain connected, and he fell to the floor unconscious.
“Wow Bridger, you made that look so easy!” Dynassy stared at the man on the floor. “Oh my God! I’m so glad you were here. I think he was going to—”
I took her in my arms. “I know, but I would never have let anything happen to you.”
Sal appeared in the door. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“I’ll explain everything, but do me a favor and call the police? They’re going to need an ambulance for him too.”
Sal nodded, and shuffled off to call the cops.
“That was one of the scariest moments of my life.”
“I’m sorry, babe. I should have never put you up to this.”
“No, it was also one of the most exciting!”
I shook my head and squeezed her tight.
When the authorities arrived, they took Peter to the hospital and took statements from me and Dynassy. They confiscated my recording of the entire event, and the officers involved seemed to think they’d be able to build an attempted assault case against the embittered mechanic.
“Seeing as he has implicated himself in more than one crime here, we’ll toss his place while he’s in the hospital and see what we come up with. I’ll be in touch,” the lead officer told me.
When I got Dynassy home, I made her some soup and tucked her into bed.
“But I’m not tired.”
“You’ve been through a traumatic event, and I know what’s best for you.” I hadn’t forgiven myself for putting her in harm’s way like that. All for that stupid business. I couldn’t wait to wash my hands of it.
But then I remembered—I wasn’t going to be washing my hands of it.
After watching a movie, Dynassy finally fell asleep. So I didn’t disturb her, I went into the next room and tried to take my mind off this morning by reading a book.
I was interrupted by the ringing of my cell phone. I’d taken to answering it again since the media coverage had slacked off a little. “Hello?”
“Bridger Thompson?”
“Speaking.”
“Mr. Thompson, this is Officer Tucker. We spoke earlier this morning.”
“Yes, Officer. What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to inform you that we conducted a search of your colleague’s home, and found some pretty incriminating evidence.”
“What kind of evidence?”
“Images of your product, drawings. Looks like he’s got some of your mail, which is a federal offense. Also, there’s some stuff on his hard drive that will likely keep him in prison for quite a long time.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“I’ve said all I’m at liberty to say for the moment, but your little sting appears to have uncovered a lot more than someone stealing your invention.”
“Thank you, Officer.”
“No problem. But in the future, try to leave the police work to us. Oh, and off the record, if you ever start selling those machines, let me know. Might get one for the wife.”
I chuckled, thanked him again, and hung up.
