Money, Get Away!

Chapter 8 Bear Market

"Would you mind just telling us about the plastic case?" The voice was sarcastic. The three of them, including Tony, were in an interrogation room with very little furniture, no windows, two wood chairs so one of them had to stand. The one fellow standing was in a business attire, a nice brown tie, dark gray pants, and a light gray button-down long sleeve without a jacket but with a badge on his belt. Maybe he was a Lieutenant, but he was the one on his feet and leaning back against a wall with his hands in his pockets behind the guy sitting with his arms folded. There was a bare metal table laying between Tony and his interrogators. The table was bolted to the floor.

The one standing, had a definite clean Hispanic look to him, maybe Cuban with a bushy Tom Selleck mustache and curly black hair. He was tall, he was older, rough cheeked, a dark quiet man with no expression and hard intelligent eyes. The other was stocky, a fatso older man who looked like he lifted weights and was probably fat because he was also older. He had a gut. He had a boney face with a long expressive jaw so that it was like talking to an oversized fat rhesus monkey, with a veined nose and bloodshot brown eyes. The room smelled like alcohol breath and Tony couldn't decide if it was this tough looking sheriff deputy or a previous captured drunk. But as the talk went on he'd made up his mind it was this deputy who stank like a drinker. Of the two, he was by far the larger sheriff and entirely more animated. His vest must have cost the department a pretty penny.

This bigger guy leaned back on his wooden chair across from Tony, and hooked his thumbs into his bullet proof vest, which made him look a little more like a sheriff, but didn't make him look any more intelligent or friendly.

"You didn't unwrap the case, did you?" Tony's face was incredulous.

"Of course, sure we did, we thought you might be attempting to sneak drugs past the x-ray machine."

Tony looked frustrated, biting his lower lip before saying, "But we're not flying. I told you we never even came anywhere near TSA or an airplane. We were on an exit bus and we didn't come from any jet or another country either. We were simply picking up an old jalopy I've stored for too long in your neighbor's garage after dropping out of a taxi. If you people would charge a decent amount for storage, we would have paid you instead of them for your garage, but you don't. Your prices to park in this town are a shame. A shame designed to earn tornado damage insurance money by making the impoverished park outside in the wide open for damage claims."

The whole speech looked like it bored the Sheriff.

He looked at Tony's driver's license and said, "Okay Mister Antonio Com-e-dero," he pronounced out that last name slowly as if he'd only just finished the second grade. "...if that is your real name. How do we know you were not simply frightened away by our security and decided to hide a minute or thirty on the shuttle?"

"You had no right to open it, we were not hiding."

"The dog gave us a reasonable excuse to open it. You still haven't answered my question. What's the case all about?"

"If you opened it, don't you know? What it is, is none of your business. But if you opened the case you'll see it is exactly what it looks like."

"So, they are real?"

"What did you think they were?"

"We thought maybe movie props."

"They're no gag, their the real McCoy."

"Did you know there is a law here in this state that you have to notify us of large amounts of money or valuables being transported onto any airplane."

"Are you not paying attention? I told you, we're not flying. We're only here to pick up my car and get back to Vegas. What's in the case doesn't belong to me, it belongs to my client. Also, did you not look in my wallet and see that I'm a private investigator?"

"Who's your client? The prince of Saudi?"

"My client is none of your business, there is such a thing as client-shamus privilege."

He looked at Tony's driver's license again, and also the PI license, which was out of Nevada, and a CCW concealed carry permit out of Wyoming, "Get around a lot?"

"I travel frequently."

"How do we know you were not simply frightened away by our security before deciding to board the Shuttle."

"Look, I can't psychologically make up your minds for you, but I can tell you it's really easy to confirm we were not hiding, just look at your video. You have cameras all up and down this joint. I had no way of knowing he was coming because he wasn't in sight when we boarded the shuttle. We weren't avoiding anyone."

"Then why the goofy disguises?"

"I told you, we came from my cousins costume charity event."

He pursed his lips and made a triangle with his hands on the desk, stared into the triangle, "Well, sometimes our dogs have false positives, happens all the time. Was there drugs at that party?"

"No, but there were fireworks. That's probably what the dog smelled. My cousins, they get a bit too excited at parties. A firework flew into bystanders. But as you can see, I have survived. Now you have no reason to keep us locked up. Please, don't make me call my client and have him send his lawyer, you've seen what's in his case. His lawyer will be just as expensive and capable."

"Look mister, you're not scaring anyone, you want I get tough, I get tough." He stood up to tower over Tony, "Brother we'll lean on you so hard you'll have to reach up to pull your socks on every morning."

"Okay," suddenly the nicely dressed man behind him spoke and it froze the deputy, "Set him free."

He looked incredulously behind him, "What? But, Lieutenant!"

"You heard me, he's right, we have nothing on them." And with that the L-t. went out the door first without speaking any further.

"Well, get a load of that. I'll be a monkey's itchy ass." He scratched the back of his head. Then he undid the handcuffs and pointed at the door and pulled a gun from his vest. "Here's your target gallery pistol. What do you shoot, Butterfly's with this thing?" he didn't wait for an answer, "And you're not allowed conceal carry this in the building."

"You brought me into the building, remember?"

The Sheriff handed his gun to him with the magazine separately, "Don't stick this in it till you get off our property. Now get out of my airport and don't let me see you around here lurking in drag no more. And get that damn dress off for God sakes.... it's indecent."

Tony reluctantly pulled off the moomoo and wadded it up, put away his pistol and ammo in different pockets and stuffed the dress into the wig to take with him. His clothes looked singed in places, big spots and a torn place in his pants. He looked less pretty with that moomoo off.

Outside the door was a hallway with windows facing the same avenue where the shuttle was. There was a bench seat. "Seeing your little lady's interview isn't over with yet, you can wait on the bench," said the sheriff.

Tony said, "You mean interrogation, don't you?"

The sheriff didn't answer him but walked away with a low growling mumble like a rhesus monkey might if he had a lot of trouble on his mind. Then another door opened nearby with a click and there was Melanie coming out of another room smiling and laughing. Melanie had the shopping bags with her. There was a female sheriff behind her, a blond with a pony tail, and they were both laughing. She helped Mel carry the bags to where Tony was sitting and Tony stuffed his wig and dress in over the case; which he was pretty happy to see in the shopping bag.

"Well Mel, it was a pleasure to meet you," the female sheriff said and shook her hand, "And you," she looked at Tony accusingly, "...no more playing around with fireworks like that. You're lucky to be alive mister." And with that she turned and walked out the same direction rhesus had.

There was another shuttle lined up outside the windows with a different driver and they walked quickly to the exit to get to it before it could depart.

"What did you tell her?'

"Oh, you know,just lady chit chat."