Southern Justice, Part 73

I’m Fixin’ To present part 73 of Southern Justice:

Shanna Martin breathed a long sigh of defeat as she was being led toward Joey Sitka’s office. She knew very well that if Joey called, you went. She just hoped and prayed it wasn’t some special assignment. She was too busy to have to fly off to Houston, Miami, or some other far off city to entertain some rich jerk. She had taken a Xanax on her drive to work and had another one stashed for later. All she wanted to do was dance to the music until closing time, go home, and go to sleep thinking about Chris and wake up tomorrow and start planning their future.

When she was ushered into Joey’s office, he was sitting stone-faced behind his desk and in a gruff voice ordered her to sit down. “This won’t take long,” he told her.

Breathlessly Shanna blurted out, “Joey, I can’t travel tonight—–”

“Shut up!” he demanded. “You’re going to travel all right, but it won’t be for work. I want you to get your stuff together and clear yourself out of this club in no less than 10 minutes!”

Shanna was struck dumb, but for only a moment before she said, “Joey! why-why are you firing me?”

“I’m not firing you, I’m doing you a favor.”

Shanna, hanging on the edge of her seat pleaded, “But, Joey, what have I done? I don’t understand!”

“Then let me briefly explain,” Joey said. “The damn GBI was at the county courthouse today trying to get a murder warrant for your arrest. The judge put them off until tomorrow, but from the evidence he says they have, he’ll have no choice but to sign it tomorrow.

“I know what will happen next—those conniving cops will burst in here tomorrow night during our busiest time and slap a pair of handcuffs on you. They’ll bring along reporters with cameras and we’ll be on the front page of the damn newspaper again. I can’t let that happen, Shanna. I’ve already been charged with money laundering, credit card fraud, prostitution, and the’ll probably cook up some more charges before it’s over. They want to close my club, take away my liquor license and throw me into jail——”

Joey kept rambling on while Shanna was wondering how could anyone possibly know what she had done.

But Joey wasn’t rambling, he was killing time. He looked at his watch just before he handed Shanna a single piece of paper. “Take this. It’s the name and phone number of a friend of mine in New Orleans. He’ll put you to work and give you a new ID. It’s no problem to get lost in the Big Easy. But you have to leave tonight. It’s your only chance. You got any money?”

Shanna shook her head no, and in a trembling voice said, “I don’t have much on me, but I’ve got about $60 thousand in my checking account.”

Joey pulled the center drawer of his desk open and extracted a fat envelope. “Here’s two grand to get you by. Write me a check for the $60 thousand and we’ll clean out the account first thing tomorrow morning and I’ll forward it on to you later, otherwise they’ll freeze the account.”

Shanna just sat there in a frozen and shocked state. It was too much for her absorb at once.

Joey shouted out her name to break her from her shocked state. “Shanna! I’m trying to help you here. If you don’t do as I tell you and leave immediately there’s a good chance you’ll never make it. The cops will arrest you and freeze all your assets. You could lose your home, your money and your freedom!”

Bob, the bouncer, returned to the office just as Shanna had completed writing the check.

Joey took it from her hand and said, “Bob will help you gather your stuff and walk you to your car. Delta flight 897 departs for New Orleans at 11:15. It’s wide open. Be on it. Good luck, Shanna.”

Five minutes later Bob returned to Joey’s office and said, “It’s done, boss.”

“She have any final words to say,” Joe asked him.

“Just wanted to know about her car. I told her to leave the keys under the floor mat and we would pick it up and dispose of it.”

“So she’s gone?”

“Yep. I watched her drive away myself.”

“Good,” Joey declared. “What time do you think it will happen?”

“I would estimate about two minutes before she gets to the airport.”

After Bob left his office, Joey sat staring at the check with a smile on his face. The money was his consolation for having to give up a good employee. If anyone questioned it, he would say it represented the repayment of a loan. He had no idea who Shanna was supposed to have murdered, and he didn’t care. However, he did know he couldn’t afford to have an employee charged with such serious crime. He also knew that sooner or later the cops would catch her, and no matter where it was, it would still be connected with the club. That’s why he had had Bob place the bomb in her car.

(tmdunagan@aol.com)