Mr. & Mrs. Guerin (AU,M/M,MATURE) COMPLETE - 5/20/13

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Re: Mr. & Mrs. Guerin MM,mature, pg3, ch10, Mar 5, 2013

Post by ken_r » Sun Mar 10, 2013 12:27 pm


Chapter 11

When Michael picked Maria up at her mother’s, his wife could have been a stranger the way she was acting. Amy was standing at the door, crying and Maria’s eyes were red. Neither of them said anything to Michael as he walked back to their car of the day. It was the Buick.


Maria still hadn’t said much when they got a call from Raquel down town. It seemed that they had just hit the pillows when it came. “Michael, we are in trouble. Earthquake just killed a man. The police are on the way,” she cried.

Kyle wasn’t on that shift. When they got there, they found Hanson in charge. “Guerin, you and your old lady aren’t needed here,” Hanson barked. We have the perp and the case is clear. That gorilla over there butchered this guy and I might just run both of them in. Shake ‘em up and see what happens, that is what my pappy always said,” Hanson bragged.

Earthquake was standing, his hands cuffed behind him. Raquel was sitting in tears. On the floor covered with a table cloth Michael saw a body. Michael pushed past Hanson’s bully boys and raised the cover to look at the victim. The victim was lying on his stomach, Hanson not having even looked under the body. Michael and Maria, both, had put on gloves even before they approached the crime scene. Michael noticed that Hanson hadn’t bothered to glove himself, even if the rest of his men had done so. Before any of the officers could stop him, Michael reached out and gently raised the body to look under it. “Hey watch what you are doing, Guerin. Shaughnessy, throw these people out!” Hanson screamed.

“Get your head out of your ass, Hanson. If you would have looked, you would see that this man was carrying a silenced Beretta. That isn’t what you would take to a social call,” Michael snapped back.

“Shaughnessy, do what you are told,” Hanson screamed if possibly even in an octave higher.

Shaughnessy wasn’t a bad cop. He liked Michael Guerin, but he had had the bad luck to pull the same shift as Hanson, tonight. That made Hanson his boss. He started toward Michael, but Michael pulled the body high enough that he saw the Beretta also. “Martinez, bag and tag that gun,” Shaughnessy said as he gently put his hands on Michael’s shoulders. “Mr. Guerin, he is the boss and he says you gotta leave,” he said to Michael.

Michael wasn’t ready to start an all out war. He had made his point by showing several of the cops the gun. Shaughnessy had sealed it by telling detective Martinez to take possession of the gun. Hanson couldn’t fudge the report to over look anything. Michael hadn’t ever gotten along with Hanson. He didn’t know what had set Hanson off against Earthquake and Raquel. Maybe Raquel had inadvertently mentioned her friendship with Michael. Yeah, that would send her and Earthquake to jail with Hanson for sure. As Shaughnessy escorted them to the door, Michael bit back any smart aleck comments he could have made. Kyle would have to straighten everything out tomorrow morning when he came in. Technically, Hanson out ranked Kyle, but Kyle had experience and respect. It was strange that Hanson was a sergeant. Most of the time, up through lieutenant, the ranks were given by experience and knowledge. Somehow, Hanson had gotten enough grease to become a sergeant. You might wear the chevrons, but field officers know and respected experience. At the door, Michael turned and said, “Raquel, don’t say anything. Do you have a mouthpiece or do you want me to send Alex?”

Hanson yelled, “That does it, Guerin. Shaughnessy, run them in for obstruction of justice.”

Shaughnessy just kept pushing Michael out the door ignoring the last outburst of the sergeant.


Michael and Maria were back home. “Alex, can you get to the police station and bail out two people?” he called out over the phone. “Good, Raquel and Earthquake were arrested by Hanson for killing a man who was creeping up on them with a silenced Beretta. Raquel and Earthquake were another couple I talked to about the bombing. I don’t know if it is connected, but Maria and I will cover the bail,” Michael said as he looked to Maria who nodded her head in assent.

It was morning when Alex called. “Hey Mike, it won’t be hard to get Raquel and Earthquake off on the charge that Hanson has built up. That bit you did with the gun was good. Hanson isn’t above destroying evidence to protect his theories. He is trying to declare Earthquake himself as a dangerous weapon because he was a professional wrestler. You know they did this with prize fighter’s fists at one time. Our defense will be that Earthquake faced an armed felon with his bare hands. Breaking and entering a home late at night, while carrying an illegal silenced weapon, should be strong evidence that Earthquake actually saved himself and Raquel.”

“That’s good, Alex. Hanson was out of control last night. I will give Kyle a couple of hours to settle the department down before Maria and I go in to look at what else they found. Hanson is an ass, but the rest of the detectives are very good,” Michael stated.

Maria and Michael walked into the detective office as Kyle was finishing up a fast lunch at his desk. “You just gotta stick a needle into him to see what makes him tick, don’t you?” Kyle greeted.

“Sorry Kyle, this was too important to let Hanson mess up. Who was the man killed?” Michael asked.

“A man named Manny Martinez, no relation to our detective. I already checked,” Kyle stated. “You might want to check with your friend Emilio, but I don’t think this Martinez had anything to do with the Hispanics Emilio works with. Their great, great ancestors might have ridden over with Cortez, but I will bet that is the last contact they had with each other,” Kyle said.

“Can you tie him up to the bombing?” Michael asked.

Kyle scratched his head. “Yes and no,” he cryptically answered. “This guy has been known to use military surplus items, but until we have motives for these killings, they are going to be hard to connect together,” Kyle thoughtfully replied.

“I agree that this isn’t Emilio’s way, but he might be able to scare up some information,” Michael agreed. “Kyle, I am running out of informants. Fingers dead and Raquel being assaulted will make many of the street people afraid to talk to me, even if none of the killings are connected.”

Then, Michael changed the subject. “Kyle, Maria found out the name of her father the other day. If you run across a Paul DeLuca anywhere, let us know,” Michael said.

“You might want to look up my dad. He was pretty young when Maria’s father cut out. There was always something when mom was with us about some friend. I don’t know if that friend was Amy DeLuca, but I vaguely remember mom being angry with dad over some woman. I don’t think that was the reason mom left, but dad might be able to tell you something,” Kyle stated.

Michael was in his Ford. “Maria,” he had said. “This is something I have to do alone. When I get back, we will take off for Roswell and see Kyle’s dad.” Michael wanted Emilio to talk to him like the brother he used to be when they were kids. Having Maria with them might make this difficult.

“Buenos dias, amigo,” Michael greeted

“How ya’ doing, cuate,” Emilio returned.

(Author note: “cuate,” is a term in the southwest and in some Hispanic languages meaning twin or close friend. It is pronounced Qua tee.)

“What do you know about a Manny Martinez?” Michael asked.

“What’s the asshole done, now? Emilio asked in returned, proving he did know the subject in question.

“We think he tried to kill Raquel, that bar lady down on Central,” Michael stated.

“I’m not surprised; I tossed his ass out of here a couple months ago. I caught him trying to line up a couple of the younger guys for a heist. I decked him and then, beat the hell out of my guys for listening to him. Anglos are suspicious of us enough. We don’t need to give our detractors any more ammunition. Hey, Mikie, we really are just trying to get some reforms. My guys get out of line, I am going to get rid of them, run ‘em off,” Emilio recited an often used mantra. Emilio knew that many of the younger men were impatient, but Emilio was looking to the future. They had almost produced a candidate for president. He wanted to build education for those who followed him and then, trust within the community. Every body has a few rotten apples somewhere; Emilio had to make sure these didn’t derail the work he was doing.

“Well then, Emilio, can you be on the lookout for any information about this Manny guy?” Michael asked.

“Do you need to know where he is?” Emilio asked.

“I know where he is. He is dead. When he attacked Raquel, her boyfriend, Earthquake broke his neck. We are trying to tie him to someone or thing that is connected with the bombing of Robert’s restaurant and the killing of Fingers. Maybe, he is connected to the shooting of that Valdez kid, Maria’s stabbing or even the assault on the doc at the hospital. Emilio, this is bad! No one knows who the bombing was aimed at or why the attack on Raquel or killing of Fingers. I have to ask; where does Two-Fingers Louis fit in this picture? Why would he shoot a young Hispanic kid? Crimes without motive are not a pretty picture,” Michael finished.

“You have to believe me, Mike. Martinez isn’t one of ours. I never heard of Two-Fingered Louis before the boys heard that he had shot the Valdez kid. I will shake them up in the hood and see what I can learn.” Emilio left more worried than when he arrived. Michael had his problems, but for Emilio, all the time he had spent building up his cause could come down if the wrong persons got connected to his movement.


I don’t care where you start; the trip to Roswell takes in a lot of almost empty country. The Guerins had a lot of people to see. First of all, they wanted to know all Jim Valenti, the former peace officer, knew about Paul DeLuca. The Parkers and the Whitmans were all still in Roswell. They had all helped Amy when she was raising a young Maria. The Guerins had to ask, “Did they know anything about the shadowy Paul DeLuca?”

Looking for most retired peace officers is best done at the local coffee shop. For many reasons, Jim Valenti hadn’t ever remarried. Many of the young people he knew, including his son, Kyle, had moved to bigger cities. “My gosh, kids, let me look at you. Mikie, I wouldn’t want to try to put you in the pokey again. Someone said you were a private detective? How’s that doing for you? Maria, I see a lot of your mother in you. How is Amy now days? I heard about your good fortune. I also know you were back here some years ago after your husband, Stuyvesant, died. Sorry I didn’t run into you then. My own life was somewhat unsettled at that time. Are you here for business or pleasure? How can I help you?” Valent,i the elder, gushed.

Maria spoke, “I hope seeing everyone will be a pleasure, but mostly we need information about my father Paul DeLuca.”

There was a frown on Valenti’s face. “Paul, DeLuca, Paul DeLuca, There was a time I hated that name. Really, I didn’t know him. I always thought he never did right about you and Amy. Jealously on my part, I am sure. Michelle, my ex wife, was right, I never did quit loving Amy. Amy and I always kept our distance. I never gave Michelle reason to be jealous. I guess women know when there are secrets in a man’s mind. She left about the same time that Paul disappeared. I might have thought that fate was playing me. Your mom just wasn’t ready to give Paul up. Even through all that anger, she hoped he would return with a believable excuse. Pop knew more. When he was lucid after he moved to the retirement home, he still said, “She belongs to another man, Jimmy. Leave her alone. Don’t give her more grief. She already had more than her share.” Pop died long before Paul did. I think pop knew something, but he wouldn’t tell me. He did tell me to look out for both you and your mama.”

The next stop was the Crashdown café. Jeff and Nancy Parker had retired years ago. Getting their daughter through college and married to Max Evans, completed their life. “We still need grand kids, but we achieved everything else,” Jeff stated.

Nancy was leaning on his shoulder. “Sometimes, we regret chasing Max off so many times when they were young. We still hope they take time off and have a family. Age needs youth to be sure of the reason of life and the past,” Nancy sighed.

“They are a busy couple,” Maria stated. The Parkers didn’t say anything about Liz getting mugged, so Maria thought it best not to say anything. “We are looking for information about my father, Paul DeLuca.”

Jeff leaned back in his chair. “Oh me, that seems a long time ago. I remember when Paul disappeared. Amy worked so hard. Nancy and I had you for many sleep overs when Amy needed rest. I offered her a job, but Amy needed something more than we could give her. I think the Whitman’s had you at their house, many times, to help Amy. You, Alex and Liz were about the same age and you always played together. When we gave you and Liz a job, we offered to have Alex work for us. He was always busy with music lessons and his computer. The three of you were together through high school,” Jeff explained.

“Didn’t Amy get a lot of legal help from Philip Evans?” Nancy asked.

“Yes, come to think of it, so did Paul before he disappeared. Philip clams up tight when it involves his clients. You being Paul’s daughter and Paul being dead, you might get him to open up a little,” Jeff added.
Stories by Ken
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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Re: Mr. & Mrs. Guerin MM,mature, pg3, ch11, Mar 10, 2013

Post by ken_r » Mon Mar 18, 2013 10:54 am


Chapter 12

“Oh my goodness, Philip come here. Look at that little waif, Michael, and see what a man he has become!” Diane Evans exclaimed.

“Michael, son, it is so good to see you,” Philip Evans expressed as he gripped Michael’s hand.

A tear formed in Diane’s eyes. “Liz calls us, from time to time, as does Isabel. Max, it is like digging weeds to get very many sentences from him. Now, Isabel is pretty regular so, maybe, it is just a boy thing,” Diane said.

Philip gestured with his arm. “Come in and sit down. What is the news from the big city? What have the two of you been doing? Maria, we do extend our condolences over Peter’s death. I understand the two of you are now married,” Philip stated.

“Well, Mr. Evans,” Maria started.

“Please kids, it is Philip and Diane. We still want to keep Max and Isabel saying mom and dad, but the rest of you are more than kids who hung around. We want to consider you as friends,” Philip said.

“Okay, Mr…. I mean Philip, you might know that Michael is a private detective. He is semi- retired now, but we have a case that keeps involving us. There is one point that keeps coming up and that is my father, Paul DeLuca,” Maria again started.

Philip Evans frowned. “I.. don’t…know. There is client privilege. What does your mother say?” Philip asked.

“Philip, I have pushed mom as much as I can. When she isn’t crying, she is cursing his memory. I don’t think there is much more she can tell me. Kyle suggested we come to Roswell and talk to Jim, his father. Jim sent us to the Parkers and they suggested you.” Maria explained.

Philip turned to Diane, “What do you think, Di? Would it violate ethics telling Maria what little we know about Paul.”

“Philip, we have unarguable proof that Maria is Paul’s heir. You gave up the management of his money to Alex when you decided you wanted to retire. The kids have driven all the way to Roswell to learn what they can. I say tell them,” Diane stated.

“Okay, I just hope you aren’t too disappointed. We have no idea why he disappeared or what he was mixed up in. Paul came to us when he and Amy arrived. Paul was in his twenties and Amy was still in her teens. They did have a valid marriage certificate. Paul had me arrange a paternity test for him. He explained that, he didn’t ever want anyone to doubt who your father was. Because of your mother’s age, I examined their marriage certificate carefully. It was legit, no question. At Paul’s request, I had his paternity test appended to your birth certificate. When Paul died, I turned the whole case over to Alex Whitman. I had sold my practice and the new people didn’t really know you. I trusted Alex as, I assumed, you would. Your mother tried several business managers; finally, she came back to Alex. Maria, don’t let the age difference between your parents bother you. When I met them, Amy was past the age of consent, true, a case could have been made about the age difference between them. They had a legal marriage certificate and what they did before that time is no one’s busness but theirs,” Philip concluded.

Maria and Michael were sitting in their motel room. “Well, Maria, what did we learn?” Michael asked.

Maria did a little ballet move, “We learned that I am totally legitimate. We learned that my father and mother were legally married. We, also, learned that my father was as mysterious as ever.”

“When we talked to the Whitman’s, Charles thought that Paul DeLuca had something to do with Washington. While you were talking to his wife, he told me that there were some people somewhere who were upset about his marriage. He had been hiding out in the hippy commune. To take off with a minor was not to their pleasure. That is probably the reason for the paternity test, not any doubt about your mother,” Michael explained.

“We don’t have any reason for all the violence back in the city, do we?” Maria said.

“No,” Michael whispered as he cuddled up against Mrs. Guerin.


It was a new day. This would be their last day in Roswell. Early tomorrow they would head back to the city. Maria had briefly met some school chums that she could hardly remember. They had arranged to brunch and catch up. Maria was unsure of what former friendships they had enjoyed. For many memories she had of her teen years, there had been few friends and hard work. True, she had always remained friends with Liz Parker, now Doctor Parker-Evans. “Michael, I am on thin ice here. I don’t want to give the impression that I am showing off, nor do I want them to think I am dressing down as some sort of condescension. Do you have any suggestions?” Maria asked Michael.

“Maria, it is easier with guys. Wranglers, Tony Lamas and denim, you can’t go wrong. I would advise your running shoes, slacks and a sweater. Don’t let a single designer label show. Take a taxi and don’t talk about money or society. Remember keep to, Liz Parker, the Crashdown and Mr. Hardy in high school. That ought to keep the conversations going,” Michael advised. As Maria left, Michael could only hope that his suggestions didn’t cause her trouble.

Sometime later in the morning, Michael received a phone call. “Mike, you got a few minutes?” the voice of Jim Valenti asked.

“Sure, Sheriff,” Michael replied. “Maria isn’t here right now, but my time is yours.”

The voice on the phone sounded unsure. “I want to talk to you, if you don’t mind,” the voice said.

“Go ahead, Jim, what can I do for you?” Michael replied.

“It’s about Amy. Mike, how’s she doing?” Jim asked.

“I think Amy is doing fine. There is a kind of mother daughter reversal going on right now. You know, Amy deferring to Maria for more and more things. Bringing up Paul DeLuca’s memories is bothering her. If it wasn’t important in our investigation, I think Maria would rather leave him dead and buried. Every time something happens, Paul’s name comes up. I wish we could learn more,” Michael stated.

“That is part of what I want to talk to you about. Pops had sort of a diary or journal where he wrote down thoughts about crimes he investigated. If I can find it, I will see if anything in it concerns Paul.” … There were several seconds of silence. Michael wondered if a supposed diary was the only reason that Valenti called. Then with even more hesitation, Michael heard, “There is another thing. Is… is Amy seeing anyone special?” the sheriff asked.

Michael was thoughtful. This must be the real reason Jim called, clearly wanting to talk to Michael and not Maria. “Not that I know of, Jim. She played pretty wild and loose right after getting Paul’s money. I think she is a lot more selective now, in whom she goes out with.”

“M…M…Michael,” Valenti stuttered. “You think she would see an old cowboy like me as a friend and not just as another gold digger?”

“I don’t know, Jim. Both Amy and Maria are pretty level-headed after you get though the surface society. If you can come to the city, you might give Amy a call. She might welcome a call from her past.” This conversation gave Michael food for thought. Amy needed stability, just as Maria had. Michael enjoyed the gifts Maria gave him as tokens of love. There was really nothing he needed. When he was with Maria, Michael tried to appreciate these things. When he was alone, Michael preferred his old pickup, his old Wrangler jeans and the most expensive things he had ever bought for himself, his Tony Lama boots. Even then, he would be seen more in sneakers than any other shoes, they just were more comfortable.

This call from Valent; it was as if he traded the information of his father’s journal for information about Amy. Jim felt that too get accurate info about this lady, he had to appear with valuable things they could use. When this was all over, if Jim hadn’t taken the initiative with Amy, Michael and Maria should intervene in some way to bring them together, at least give them a chance to see if anything worked.


Michael and Maria walked into Kyle’s office. The department was in turmoil. Men were running back and forth and Michael and Maria had to be careful to keep out of their way. “I don’t have much time right now, Guerin,” Kyle snapped.

“What is happening, Kyle?” Michael asked.

“Manny Martinez used to work for DeAngelo at one time. DeAngelo says he ran the bastard off years ago, but Sully O’Sullivan set fire to one of DeAngelo’s nightclubs last night. Sully is claiming that the bombing was done by Martinez, which we don’t know for sure and his torching the club was retaliation. The mobs are going to war and we gotta stop them,” Kyle said.

“Hey, I talked to Emilio a couple days ago and he didn’t seem to think that Martinez was connected to anyone local at the moment,” Michael explained.

“Go tell it to Sully, Mike. He is the one who has to believe,” Kyle said quickly. Hanson was running from place to place decked out in full riot gear. Kyle didn’t have time to even think what he had told Michael.

“Maria, this is a job for me. I don’t want you along,” Michael stated.

“Mikie, we have always done things together, we are a team, remember. Nothing you do is too dangerous for me not to be at your side,” Maria cried.

“Maria, if you want to help, get me in touch with your friend Bobby O’Sullivan,” Michael stated. He knew Maria always wanted to be involved and help, but the actual facing the elder O’Sullivan, Michael intended to do alone. These gangsters were too volatile to be trusted.

This time, when Robert O’Sullivan opened his door, Michael didn’t wait for pleasantries. He rushed past Marie and holding Roberts lapels, he slammed him against the wall. “Listen and listen good, Bobby. Your gonna take me to your uncle or I am gonna smash both your hands. The only restaurant work you will have, then, will be flipping burgers for the Burger Barn,” Michael said through gritted teeth.

“Hey, believe me, I don’t have anything to do with what uncle Sully is doing,” Robert said.

“Don’t matter,” Michael stated. “It is your restaurant he is using as an excuse.”

“If we get in his way, he might even kill us. He doesn’t have that much love for a relative into him for a half million bucks,” Robert croaked. Michael had to be careful, he could easily kill this worthless bastard.

Michael threw Robert across the room and started for him again. “Okay, okay, I get it. It is your funeral. I will take you to him,” Robert said finally.


“Guerin, someone said you were smart. Guess you can’t believe what you hear anymore,” Sully said as he waved a 45 in Michael’s face.

“Someone has to be smart enough to keep you from committing suicide,” Michael replied.

“Suicide,” Sully exclaimed. “That bum, DeAngelo, ain’t got enough smarts to stop me.”

“It isn’t DeAngelo who is going to stop you. The police are fixing to come with a SWAT squad. They are going to shoot you from three hundred yards. You aren’t going to know when it is coming. You kill too many civilians, good tax payers, they are going to bring in the Home Security boys. They got stuff that isn’t even in comic books yet. You hear a buzz in the air and see a model plane, trouble is that plane is deadly. Nobody knows what it has on it. Think man, DeAngelo’s daughter was wounded in that blast. Maybe, you don’t hold family, but you can bet your farm that DeAngelo does. He didn’t blow up Bobby’s little café,” Michael explained.

“Well, Manny Martinez was DeAngelo’s man. He hit Raquel and Earthquake’s place. You sure that bastard isn’t into limiting competition or something?” Sully asked. “What about Two Fingers Louie? Doesn’t he work for DeAngelo?

“Not that I can see. Two Fingers Louie seems to be imported,” Michael informed Sully. The truth was, Michael didn’t have any idea of what Two Fingers Louie was doing here. Michael was thinking. Sully had lowered his 45 and now, was looking confused. For appearances, he reasoned that he had support of his men. If that reason wasn’t there, soon, someone would raise questions Sully couldn’t answer. “Out of the blue,” Michael said, “What about Paul DeLuca?”

“Paul DeLuca, he is dead. How did his name get involved?” Sully asked.

Michael quickly picked up on the line of thought he had planted. “What do you know about Paul DeLuca?” he said aggressively.

“Old Man DeLuca was always a smart bastard and that kid of his was smart also. I heard he was seen in a hippy commune screwing some hippy kid. Figured him for a baby fucker. Someone finally shot him in some bar along the Mexican border,” Sully stated.

Michael began to retreat. He had more information than he had expected. “Remember the little planes, Sully. Buzz, buzz and sometimes they are so high you can’t hear them. You see a laser dot on your chest, then you’re gone in a puff of smoke,” Michael said as he backed out of the building where he had met O’Sullivan.

Once clear, Michael hurried back to the station where he had left Marie. Kyle had threatened to put her in a cell if she didn’t settle down. Michael hoped this hadn’t been necessary. Maria was going to be hard enough to quiet down just from being left at the station.
Stories by Ken
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

User avatar
Obsessed Roswellian
Posts: 860
Joined: Wed Oct 04, 2006 11:34 pm
Location: New Mexico

Re: Mr. & Mrs. Guerin MM,mature, pg3, ch12, Mar 18, 2013

Post by ken_r » Mon Mar 25, 2013 10:49 am


Chapter 13

“I did my best Kyle. Sully is not really a reasonable man, but he has to keep face with his troops no matter how pig-headed he really is. We had a little discussion about domestic terrorism and the Homeland Security boys. He doesn’t like them much more than I do. He understands that if they are let loose, they will be more than his troops can handle. Mostly he wants to poke DeAngelo in the eye. I tried to make him see that it would be very expensive just to make a point,” Michael explained.

About that time, Maria walked into the room. “Did Kyle have to put you in a cell for you to behave?” Michael asked.

Maria answered very slowly. Michael preferred the Maria who screamed and scratched. That Maria he could handle. The Maria, as she was, now, was dangerous. Michael didn’t know what she might do next. “Did you boys have fun playing at being tough-guys?” she murmured.

Michael reached out for her. Maria didn’t pull away, but she didn’t come to him very willing. “Maria, it had to be this way. If you had been with me, it would have been a distraction. It could have gotten us both killed. Be mad if you must, but realize that I had no choice,” Michael explained.

Michael had finally gotten Maria in his arms, but it was clear that he came to her and he had not been able to pull her to him. Michael mentally shook his head. Give her this one. Let her see that she had won. “Maria, if I can help it, I won’t cut you out of the investigation again.”

This mollified Maria a little, but she still was going to make Michael suffer. Michael put his lips to her ear and whispered, “Sully knows something about Paul DeLuca.”

Maria quickly turned to look at Michael. Because of the closeness Michael had engineered, their faces were only inches apart. “What?” was her only question.

To talk civilly, Michael had to be the one to pull back. “There was something about the DeLuca family that bothered Sully. He did believe that Paul DeLuca had been hiding out in that hippy commune where he met your mother.”

Kyle was always amused at the antics of the two Guerins. Kyle and Tess had a good and active love life, but they were a lot more civilized than the Guerins. If Kyle hadn’t known them so well, he might have been inclined to attempt an investigation of domestic abuse or at least, something about disturbing the peace. Kyle and Michael were not beer bust buddies in high school, but Michael had never shown any violent streaks. Now about Maria, Kyle would have been slower to testify that she was one hundred percent safe to always be around. Michael was a big boy and if Maria got out of line, Mike could have just walked out. Kyle knew that Michael didn’t give a fig about Maria’s money. An occasional dig in his ribs or a kick under the table were things that Michael would willingly put up with. About that time, Hanson ran through the offices shouting, “We are going to hit those Mexicans at Emilio Chavez’s; mount up, four to a car. Both Michael and Kyle now had an immediate problem to take care of.

Michael pulled Maria and this time, he wasn’t gentle. Michael hurried his wife to the back parking lot where they had parked the Buick. Maria was barely buckled up when she felt the Buick come to life. “Stupid bastard, Hanson wants to hit someone and he has chosen Emilio,” Michael stated.

“I thought the problem was with O’Sullivan and DeAngelo,” Maria said.

“Maria, when someone like Hanson tries to be a big shot, he doesn’t think. Sully is now involved with the FBI and Hanson wouldn’t step on federal toes. That wouldn’t be a good career move. He has the manpower and he wants to use them. He has been mumbling about Emilio for a long time. He is trying to trump up an excuse,” Michael explained.

When Hanson arrived at the Chavez home, he found Mr. and Mrs. Guerin sitting under the shade tree along with Alex Whitman and Emilio. Also under the tree was a Ford pickup, even older than Michael’s. Two kids were tinkering with the carburetor, so it must have been way before any emission control carburetors had been mandated. “Can I help you officer,” Maria’s voice rang out.

Hanson surveyed the scene before him. That damned Guerin must have beat him to the Chavez home and sanitized the situation. That is what you get when you allow civilians to hang around the station. Hanson would make sure that Kyle got an ear full when he got back. “An informant stated that someone was smoking pot around here,” Hanson stated pathetically.

“Not hardly, officer. We don’t allow that shit around here,” Emilio stated.

“You mind if we look around?” Hanson stated, gripping his SWAT rifle tightly, hoping that Emilio would resist.

“Help yourself, officer,” Emilio said.

“Hey Hanson,” Maria called out. “Try some of this iced tea. It is really good stuff.”

Hanson grabbed the glass out of Maria’s hand. He drank a sip and coughed as he spit it out. “It is tea!” he exclaimed.

“Why of course, officer. I told you it was good tea,” Maria purred.

Hanson threw the glass on the ground and stalked about the yard. His men waited impatiently for orders. That damned Guerin and his lawyer, Whitman. If they hadn’t been there he might have tried to put a bit of pressure on Chavez. As it was, the SWAT operation was a bust.

“I had to crawl over a million feds, but I got to see O’Sullivan,” Kyle said. “I think you gave him something to think about, Mike. He and DeAngelo are posturing around each other like a couple of alley cats, but for the moment, that is all they are doing.” Kyle stated with a sigh. Then, he continued. “What was it you said about DeLuca? I was too busy at the time with Hanson to pay attention.”

“He said that Paul and his father were smart men. Smart, like as in he was afraid of them. He had heard that Paul was hiding out in the hippy commune and he knew about Paul’s death. He didn’t say anything else about Paul’s father,” Michael explained. “I don’t think he had anything to do with Paul’s death. He spoke in terms as if the death was at a distance, done by persons unknown, at least to Sully,” Michael added.

Kyle leaned back in his chair. “Do you think all of this is aimed at you and the missus?” he asked.

Michael was shaking his head. “I guess we are toxic to everyone we see. Do you think that this business of Hanson’s against Emilio was any part of this?” he asked.

“Michael, you know that the worst thing for a detective is when you do not pick up on signs. The second worst thing is when you see the boogy man behind every tree. I think Hanson wanted to hit Sully and he found out that the feds were interested in him. Now, I might step on federal toes, but you can bet the farm that Hanson would always consider his career. I think it is pure dislike for Emilio because Hanson can’t bully him. I am sure I will hear about you and Alex being there, but you really saved Hanson from making a bad mistake,” Kyle stated.

Michael had been going on adrenaline for the last few days, probably ever since Earthquake had killed that Martinez fellow. Maria had been surviving on adrenaline, also, but she also had a lot of anger for Michael leaving her behind. His excuse that it was for her own good, elevated the anger more. Both of the Guerins needed a day and night’s sleep. It was afternoon, but Maria called out to the household staff that she and Michael would be indisposed until further notice.

Michael didn’t know what time it was, but there was a pounding at the bedroom door. “Yeah,” he called out.

“Sir, a phone call for you. It is a Mr. Valenti from Roswell and he said it was concerning Paul DeLuca. I thought it best for you to talk with him,” Samuel said. Samuel had been the only one brave enough to face the command Maria had made about not being disturbed. Samuel believed anything about Paul DeLuca would be about Maria’s search for her father. Mr. Valenti had been quite insistant.

“Hullo,” Michael mumbled.

“Hey, Mikie, I thought you city folks were up all night. It is only 8:00 pm and you sound like I woke you up from a deep sleep,” once sheriff Valenti said.

“Ahm … sorry sheriff, things have been breaking pretty fast around here the last few days. Me and the missus are trying to catch up,” Michael explained.

“Well, sorry son, I didn’t mean to get you up, but I found the journal. Paul DeLuca is in there. I am going to come up to the city tomorrow. I just wanted to make sure that you were where we could talk,” the sheriff declared.

“We will be here when you arrive. Listen, any discussions must include Maria. She is still pissed that I didn’t take her to meet a bunch of mobsters the other day. I don’t want to tic her off further. I told her that you wanted to talk to Amy. Maria thinks it’s a good idea,” Michael informed the sheriff. Michael was still half asleep and he hoped what he said made sense to the sheriff.


Michael opened the journal the sheriff had handed him. Valenti was off for coffee with Ms. DeLuca and he confessed that he hoped it would string off to drinks and maybe, dinner later.

The journal opened with a lot of crap about the UFO landing. Hell the landing had been more than a hundred miles away from Roswell. The rumor only said that the army had brought some of the debris to Roswell for storage. The dates in the journal were widely spaced showing that for the most part, being lawman in Roswell was mostly drunks, parking tickets and looking for Mrs. Smith’s cat. Finally, Michael got to what Valenti had underlined.

She is a cute thing. I don’t think she is much more than a teenager. I gave them the welcome speech more to see who they were than to carry out my civic duty. The husband’s name was Paul DeLuca. He told me up front that she was a minor and that they had been legally married. I guess, they had been hassled before.

A few months passed in the journal with only notations about normal law enforcement things. Valenti felt that he was a peace officer and he clearly explained the difference. A lawman keeps the law, but a peace officer helps people along. He overlooks a lot of things that do not concern his community. Michael guessed that there were others in Roswell who were concerned about the under aged married lady. The sheriff’s father had made notation that some old biddies had been complaining that Paul living with that girl ought to be illegal. The elder Valenti had simply said, “They ain’t doing no harm and they seems to be happy, so let them alone.”

The journal continued.

I do see that Paul DeLuca is gone a lot. I stop by from time to time to check on Amy. She seems to have enough money, so I guess Paul is a good provider.

I caught Jimmy giving her the eye the other day. I chewed his ass royal. “She is a married woman,” I says. “Don’t make things hard for her. You got that Michelle girl, don’t try to make a collection of them.”

I don’t know what gets into kids now days. My son, Jimmy has been kicking up his heels with that Michelle for some time. The whole town expects them to get married. Now, him taking a shine to that little hippy girl, that spells nothing but trouble.

Again, there was a space full of mundane things about Roswell.

Went by the DeLuca house today. Paul was back home. Don’t know where he goes. Guess it ain’t none of my business. Amy was showing pretty well along. Hope Paul takes parenthood seriously. Damned Jimmy finally made it official with Michelle. Jimmy is working around town. He does a bit of ranch work, but that don’t make enough to care for a wife and child. It was a boy. They named him Kyle. Guess Jimmy don’t want to continue the name any further. I was hoping they would name him James the third. Jimmy said that Michelle put her foot down.

There were several skips and several pages torn out and a couple glued back in. Michael guessed the elder Valenti wasn’t sure what he wanted to leave for the future.

The town is down on me. I shot that crazy man and the town is pissed. Well, I should say that there is an element in the town who are pissed. The man was insane and he was waving his pistol around, gonna hurt someone. I gave him all the chances he needed, but when he pointed that gun at me, I saw in his eyes that he was plumb crazy. I could see that he was crazy, his hand was trembling and I saw something in his face tightening. That was it. I hit him with a 357 right in the chest. Before I knelt down to check him, I kicked the gun out of his reach. Some are saying that I showed indifference to taking a life. Damned fools. I have to live with this every day of my life from now on.

My time is limited. I doubt I last the month. Until they demand my badge, I am a peace officer and I am gonna do my job as I see it. Jimmy finally joined the force. He learned that wife and kid need a lot of money. Part time ranch and handyman jobs don’t cut it. The hippy girl came by today. She wanted help. I told her that my days as peace officer were numbered, but as long as I could, I would help her. Paul had disappeared. It had happened several weeks ago, but normally, when he took off, he left her enough money to keep going. Amy says that the money is gonna run out soon. She is right worried about Paul. I tells her about food stamps and welfare for deserted women. She shakes her head. She don’t want no handout. She wants a job. There are several young couples around Roswell who are good church going folks. I spoke to the Parkers and the Whitman’s. They both has kids the same age as the little girl. I spoke to the Eaberhardts. They have a store and asked me the other day did I know of a young lady of good character who they could hire? I sent ‘em Amy. The Parkers and the Whitmans agreed to take turns day caring for the little girl who stares at you with those large green eyes.

I got a notice to meet with the town counsel in four days. Abigail Smith, she is one of those who were angry that I wouldn’t do something about the DeLucas. She is prodding the town counsel to get my job. Ever since I couldn’t find that damned cat, she has had a hard on. She made a snotty remark to Jimmy the other day when he gave her a parking ticket. I found out something about Paul DeLuca. There is a DeLuca back east. I couldn’t tell if he was a mob boss or something else. Some reports had him canonized for saint hood and others were crying for his blood. He had a son, name of Paul. Seems that Paul has disappeared. Some said the old man sent him out west to hide. I am almost sure that that Paul is our Paul.

Word comes that Old man DeLuca, Paul’s father has disappeared. Either he is pushing up Jimmy Hoffa or the feds have him on ice. Anyway, the whole DeLuca family is broken up. Paul had a brother who wasn’t a very nice guy. That brother is headed for the big house. He is screaming for the feds to release the DeLuca whom we think is Paul’s father. The brother’s wife was a real bitch. She has a son, Sean, who is little now, but what will he be like growing up in that family?

Well, thirty minutes and I will know. Jimmy says that if they fire me he will make sure they can’t park in the city limits anymore. Jimmy is a good boy. He sure ‘nough has his own troubles. Michelle was griping about him being a small town cop. He was rodeoing when they met. Did she think he could become a rodeo hero or something? I haven’t see Jimmy the last few days. I think Michelle has left him for good. She didn’t even want to take their little boy. Some wimmin are angels and some wimmin are just bitches. Jimmy has to let it go. Things happen and there is no reason. They can’t take away my retirement and I will soon have Social Security. If the Washington boys don’t steal all the money, I can get by. I wish I could have done more for that little gal. She works like a slave and the Eaberhardts are delighted with her. They don’t have any kids and they have sorta adopted her. They told me the other day when they retire, they are going to set Amy up in the business.

That was the last line written in the journal. Michael knew most of the history, Jim Valenti, the elder, was retired and Jimmy Valenti rose up in ranks. This did tell Michael more than he had known about the girl he worked with at the Crashdown.
Stories by Ken
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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Re: Mr. & Mrs. Guerin MM,mature, pg3, ch13, Mar 25, 2013

Post by ken_r » Mon Apr 01, 2013 10:50 am


Chapter 14

“Hey, Amy, Jim Valenti here. You think you might have time for a drink or something? I am going to be in the city for a few days. I thought we might catch up on histories,” Jim got out. Amy would never know how hard these words were for him.

“Sure, Jim, I have to make my rounds to several stores and I think I can take a couple hours off about noon. Say Krezkey’s at 12:00 noon,” Amy replied. Jim Valenti, that brought back many memories. Amy was always a radical. After Paul had disappeared, she still was a married woman, but she indulged herself in several demonstrations. Paul’s lawyer, Mr. Evans, had bailed her out of jail several times. There had been many years after Paul disappeared before Amy went out with any men. She knew Jimmy Valenti, now, just Jim Valenti, had gotten a divorce, but she was always a little mad at him for arresting her one time.


“Hey, Kyle, Maria’s grandfather did a disappearing act just like his son did. The word is that he, maybe, was taken into the witness protection program; that, or maybe he was abducted by aliens. Paul DeLuca was killed on the Mexican border, why we don’t know. Paul’s past might have caught up with him or maybe, he got in the way of drug traffickers. Before the old man died, he must have transferred a lot of funds to his son. Maybe, he is still alive and he sent Amy and Maria a fund in memory of his son. There was another DeLuca who was arrested when the grandfather disappeared. Paul, at one time, had a brother and nephew. No one knows what happened to them,” Michael narrated.

“You got all of this from Grandpa’s journal?” Kyle asked.

“Yeah, he was quite a man. I would have liked to have met him. Do you have any memories of him when you a boy?” Michael asked.

“After Grandpa got fired and before his mind went, he could spend some yarns. He knew a lot about alien crashes and alien hunters. He took loosing his job very hard. There weren’t too many years after, that I can remember him out of the retirement home. I always knew that pop had some interest in Amy DeLuca, but he never pursued this when I was a teen. Mom leaving left him in bad shape. Neither Gramps nor pop ever told me anything about the DeLucas. It was always that Amy and Maria got rich and left us folks in their past. Sorry Maria, that is just the way we all saw it,” Kyle explained.

“Kyle, I would like to approach this crime wave with Maria and me in the middle. Maria was always right; if I hadn’t grabbed that table, we would have been ground meat. Fingers must have learned something about Paul DeLuca. Two Fingers Louie wasn’t much, neither was Manny Martinez. Whoever hired them must not be very high on the food chain, either. I bet if we could find out, someone was pulling O’Sullivan’s strings. DeAngelo and O’Sullivan at each other’s throats would be a diversion and the Guerin family getting hit would have just been a casualty on the side. If the DeLuca family is involved, then why hasn’t some move been made at Amy? After all, she has half of the DeLuca fortune,” Michael stated.

Maria hadn’t said much. She spoke up, “Is money the only reason to go after me? There could be something else. We automatically say follow the money and I am sure that is true most of the time. There could be other reasons,” Maria said.

Both Michael and Kyle turned to look at her. Kyle said slowly, “What are you thinking of Maria?”

“I am the last blood heir of Paul DeLuca and his father. Mom was married to Paul and she got equal shares of what was given to us. What if there is some other reason that Paul’s descendants are in the target?”

Kyle quickly looked up. “What if there is more DeLuca money and the descendants of his brother are in line for that. Sorry Maria, money is such an appealing motive for anything,” he stated.

“It was my idea, but I wonder if we should completely ignore Washington Samuels and Ishmal Fontaine, now?” Michael suggested.

“They don’t look so good, now. I still haven’t heard back from the Republic of Vanuatu,” Kyle was playing with the many papers on his desk. “Guys, it is not like in the movies. Real life doesn’t always follow any logic. Life could always pitch us a curve ball. I do agree that you and Mike have a target painted by persons unknown on your backs.

“That was a comforting thought. Maria and I were walking around with a target painted on our backs,” Michael was thinking. He hadn’t voiced this to Maria, a comment from Kyle was one thing, but if Michael gave it credence, that could send Maria into a tizzy.”

“How does one go about finding out about one’s relativies?” Maria asked.

“I don’t know. Go on line, maybe. There are many ancestor researching programs for sale. You could hire a professional to do the research, if you want.” Michael was ticking off ideas as they came to him.

“I … don’t know,” Maria stuttered. “Letting someone else into family secrets might be dangerous. Maybe, … an online program would be best. One that I could use.”

Maria wasn’t stupid, but her computer skills did need brushing up. “There are several cheap programs that will guide you through your family history,” Michael suggested. “Start with the sir name DeLuca and let the program guide you.”

For the first time in several days, Maria smiled. This was a challenge. That was just what she needed. “Let’s stop at a software store and pick something up. I guess it would be safe to ask the clerk what were the best and easiest programs.”

That night, Michael sat alone at the table. When Samuel came up Michael ordered, “See that something is taken to the office for Maria. She is working on a project and may be doing so for several days.”

Samuel nodded and Michael saw several of the kitchen staff carry covered dishes to his office. Michael had the fastest computer and that is the one Maria chose to use. Michael was sitting in his library; the door to his office was open and as he passed it, he saw Maria with a considerable pile of paper and deep in thought as she read the monitor screen.

Later as he sat and read, Michael heard Maria on the phone. “Hey Liz, what was the name of that kid you were telling me about? You know the one who was a computer expert. Think I could hire him after school tomorrow? Think so. That’s good. Give me his number and I will give him a call.” There was a pause of silence. Then Michael heard Maria again on the phone, “Jamie, Doctor Parker-Evans said you might be willing to hire on to help me with some computer research. You will? That’s wonderful. Yeah, that sounds about right. I will pay you in cash. See you tomorrow after school at four.”

“Decide to hire an expert, babe,” Michael stated.

‘Yes, Liz is always raving about this neighbor kid who is so good with computers. I am paying him enough that I hope he wouldn’t want to endanger his job by talking too much, besides, who would he tell? I have a whole list of DeLucas and I need to winnow them out to find the Paul DeLuca line.


Business was booming at the small saloon down on Central. The room was loud and smoky. Raquel had two extra men helping with the bar. Earthquake was busy bringing up fresh stock as the orders of beer and whisky flew. Raquel noted that the crowd wasn’t very particular tonight. The house brand of beer was on tap and keeping Earthquake busy bringing up new kegs. The usual order wasn’t for rye, scotch or bourbon. “Gemme a whisky was the call.” Raquel had called her security company and they had sent over two bouncers in uniform. They along with Earthquake should be able to handle any crowd. Raquel had stepped outside and she saw all the businesses along her stretch of Central were bursting. There must have been something big at the Pavilion. The city fathers trying to build back the old city had built a center right in the middle of all the decay. Raquel had been busy and had not noticed what was playing at the Pavilion. The crowd was excited over something. Many of the businesses had pledged an amount to help Robert rebuild. A few nights like this would go a long way.

Chico, a middle aged Hispanic, came over to Raquel. “Rocky,” he always called her that. “See those Gringos in the corner. I heard them talking about Guerin. You suppose that is Michael Guerin?” he asked.

“Or, maybe, his wife Maria. I heard she got cut the other night at the hockey game,” Raquel replied.

“That one Gringo, the one with the red hair said something about getting Guerin at home this weekend. You think we ought’a call Mike?” Chico asked.

“You damned right we ought to call Mikie,” Raquel answered. “There is too much falling down around the Guerins. Michael needs to hit this one rolling, not wait until it gets on his doorstep.


Maria was hard at work with her teenage computer expert. She was finding him every bit worth what she was paying him. Maria told him what she remembered or had found out about Paul DeLuca and his fingers flew as he dug up web sites of information on the DeLuca family. The phone rang and Maria told Bobby, “Let Michael get it. If it is for me, I will pick up but unless it is really important, I want to keep on with what we are doing.

Michael knew that Maria and her geek were on a roll. He got the phone on the third ring. “Yeah, Michael Guerin here,” he answered.

The background noise was terrible. It sounded like the caller was calling from the middle of a cattle stampede. “Mikie,” the voice sounded over all the noise. “Rachel here. Mikie, there are several Anglo guys here talking about something about Guerin. They said something about a hit on Guerins this weekend. I thought you might want to know,” she warned.

“Hey thanks Raquel. Look, I don’t want to get caught unaware. I am going to come down and try to see who they are and what they want with me,” Michael stated.

“Hey, Maria, I am going to the store for a couple hours. I will be back soon,” Michael called out.

“That is good babe, Bobby and I will be working for a little longer,” Maria called back.

It turned out to be several hours and Michael still wasn’t back. Bobby had gone home long ago. Maria and Bobby had learned a shitload about Paul DeLuca and his family. When the phone rang, Maria grabbed it on the first ring and was about to unload on Michael. Where the hell had he gotten himself to?

“Mrs. Guerin,” a woman’s voice called. Are you Mrs. Maria Guerin, Michael’s wife?”

“Yes,” Maria answered.

“This is Raquel DeLeon. Michael has been arrested. He needs that lawyer, you sent me one time,” the voice said.

Maria, suddenly, was very frightened and maybe a little cross. “What has happened to Michael,” she yelled.

“He got into a fight here at the bar. He put the man he was fighting in the hospital, but Sergeant Hanson has arrested him for assault and battery. You need to get him help as soon as you can,” the voice stated.

Maria quickly called Alex. “Michael is in jail. I don’t know what it is about, but he needs help fast. Raquel DeLeon, an old friend of his just called. Hanson has him up on some charge. It sounds serious.”

Maria and her mother had always paid Alex well for his services. Michael was also a friend from the old school in Roswell. “Honey, Michael is in trouble. I have to see him at the jail. Go back to sleep I will call you when I know something,” Alex said to the still sleepy Isabel.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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Posts: 860
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Re: Mr. & Mrs. Guerin MM,mature, pg4, ch14, Apr 1, 2013

Post by ken_r » Mon Apr 08, 2013 11:41 am


Chapter 15

As soon as Chico saw Raquel make a call, he presumed it was to Michael he made a call of his own. “Emilio, you know that friend of yours, that Guerin guy? Well, there are a bunch of Anglos sitting here who are plotting against him and his wife. What? No, I don’t know who they are. Rocky called Guerin to tell him about this bunch. Do you think he will come down town with guns blazing? How many smarts do you give this guy? Fine, he is your amigo, but I don’t want to get into a shoot out. No the group is mostly Anglos, there are one or two Hispanics with them. You don’t think la gente is involved? Yeah, I know this is strictly Anglo business, but he is your friend. Bueno, el jeffe, if someone pulls a knife or gun I will take them out; until then, I will just enjoy the fight, like WWF on Friday night. TV wrestling, but for real, qué no!” Chico related.

The group were still in the corner talking. One of the bar-maids came back crying. “I just asked them if they wanted another round. That pig with red hair called me a whore and told me to get away from them,” she cried.

It was about a half hour when Michael came in the door. “Mikie, don’t start a shooting war,” Raquel pleaded.

“Don’t worry babe, I ain’t packing tonight,” Michael replied.

Chico moved to the rear of the bar. He quietly moved several regulars sitting there. They looked up and quickly obeyed. Michael was approaching the group with fire in his eyes. “Heard you were looking for Guerin!” he exclaimed.

The big redhead looked up and said, “What’s it to ya, asshole?”

“Well, I am Guerin. I don’t want you bringing anything to my family,” Michael said with an obvious chip on his shoulder.

The redhaired man stood up. “Well it’s that bitch you are married to we want, but the contract does offer more if we take you out, also.” With this, he lowered his head and charged.

Michael side stepped taking the redhead’s head under his right arm. Instantly, he grabbed and using a front chokehold, Michael lifted with all of his might. The surprised redhead was almost bent double as Michael heaved. Each time Michael yanked up, he slammed the redhead in the groin. The redhead groaning, fell to the ground. Several of the others stood up. Michael hit the nearest one with a right cross right at his jaw hinge. Someone grabbed Michael in a lock from behind. Michael came back with his right elbow hard into something soft. Michael heard a grunt, but he hadn’t broken the hold about his neck. Michael, with all of his might, bent forward pulling his assailant close behind him. Michael could smell the feted breath. His mind kept running, “Don’t hit one of these guys in the mouth.” The human mouth was the dirtiest, germiest thing imaginable. In a bar room brawl, once when he was in the service, he had a pal who struck a drunk in the front teeth and had to be hospitalized for weeks with infection.

Michael struck with his fist between his legs and felt a nice soft target. There was no cry of pain, only moans as the third assailant fell.

One of the men who was against the wall when Michael came in reached for his knife. He suddenly felt something hard against his side. Chico with his hand in his jacket was pressing something hard against him. “Drop the knife, pendejo, or I will blow your guts all over the wall,” Chico growled.

The man dropped the knife and slowly sat down under the glare of the barman.

About this time, Hanson arrived and the trouble really started. Hanson clubbed Michael in the back of his head with his sap. Now, if you don’t know what a sap is, it is usually two pieces of horsehide shaped like and exclamation point with sheet or powdered lead sewed between. It lets the blackjack (or as here called a sap,) have a lot of power. Michael went down. “All right,” Hanson shouted, “you get out of here,” he said to the three man who could still stand. Two men were groaning on the floor and before Hanson could do anything, he heard the entrance of the EMT boys from a newly called ambulance. One of the men on his way out leaned over and whispered to Hanson, “That Mex over there has a gun.”

Immediately, Hanson grabbed Chico and spun him against the wall. “Okay, Cholo, what did you do with the gun,” Hanson growled.

Chico reverted to a strong accent, “Mr. Polici man, I ain’t got no gat, I only have a hard finger. I got other things that a Gringo might call hard. I can’t help if that gringo is a pussy. The only gun I got is a 22 for rats and snakes back home.”

The three men Hanson had let go had long gone. The EMT boys took the two groaning on the floor and the man who Michael had busted in the jaw. “What about the other man who is on the floor?” one of the EMTs asked.”

“Eeh, I just gave him a love tap with me sap. He is going to jail. If he is hurt, we have first aid there,” Hanson growled.

The ambulance left, siren blaring. Hanson turned to Raquel, Earthquake and Chico. “Guerin is going to rot in jail. If the rest of you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your traps shut. Guerin came in here to start a fight and I am gonna nail his ass. You say anything different and I will close your dump up as a public nuisance You done had trouble in here before,” Sergeant Hanson declared.

Raquel and Earthquake were dumb struck. The bar was all they had in the world. Michael was there friend, but he did come here to start something. It was Chico who decided what to do. “Hey Emilio,” Chico called. “Guerin put three of them in the hospital, but Hanson let the other three go and arrested Mike. He threatened Raquel and Earthquake. Can that asshole cop actually close Raquel’s bar? You better get a mouthpiece over to the jail before Hanson works what is left of Mike over. Mike is pretty beat up and any more bruises, Hanson might just explain as results of the bar fight.”

There was almost no one at the station except for communications. Hanson led the groggy Michael to the interrogation room. Hanson quickly ran next door to the observation room and turned off the recorder and camera. “Well me bucko, it’s just you and me tonight. Noo… body to disturb our party.”

Michael saw that Hanson was wearing black leather gloves which had something sowed to the top of them. He recognized them as sap gloves. Like the pocket sap Hanson had KO’d him with in the bar the gloves were filled with fine lead powder. They didn’t leave much of a mark, maybe a bit of bruising, but they packed a powerful wallop. Hanson slapped the side of Michael’s face and it felt like he had been hit by a truck. “Ah, Mikie, that was just a love tap compared to what is to come. Damned gumshoe, sticking your rich nose into proper police business. Fucking Valenti says you are just like us, it was that rich broad who brought all the money. Maybe you should let me have a turn with her. I could use some ready cash and I could show her what a man was like. Hanson slammed Michael again.

As Hanson was readying himself for another round, the door burst open and a ready cellphone camera followed by Alex entered. “Back off Hanson, I already got enough to file charges against you,” Alex declared.

Damned shyster, gimmie that phone,” Hanson roared.

Alex stepped back and pointed to the video camera in the corner. “Too late, Hanson. I stopped by and made a public recording. This one on the phone is just for my private collection,” Alex stated.

Hanson looked up and saw the red light brightly blinking. He wondered how long Alex had this thing running.

Kyle walked in, “Beat it Hanson, this is my case and I will take it from here. I already called the captain about you letting those three suspects go. Hanson, did you really go through rooky school or did you get your badge with a quarter and two box tops?`”

Hanson would have liked to have reminded both of these men that he was sergeant. He knew that Alex could have cared less and he was realizing that Valenti didn’t care much more. Hanson had grease, but his reputation wasn’t very good with the department. He would have to speak to his uncle about that promotion soon. Politicians were easier to bully. These damned street cops were getting under his skin.

“Mikie, what am I going to do with you? Raquel said you weren’t even carrying a gun. What was this all about?” Kyle asked.

“Did Hanson really let them all go?” Michael asked.

“No, you put three of them in the hospital. They are on hold until I release them,” Kyle explained.

“It was the redhead, Kyle. He was the one pushing the rest to go after Maria,” Michael stated.

“Well, he is in for a while. His pelvis is fractured. How many times did you kick him?” Kyle asked.

“Aw, I bounced his balls on my knee a few times while I had his head under my arm in a hammer lock,” Michael explained.

“Well, he may be made to talk, the one where you dislocated his jaw is something else. He is going to be eating through a straw and talking with a pad and pencil. You did a number on him, Mikie,” Kyle said.

Kyle let Alex take Michael home. He would visit the hospital in the morning. Damned Hanson, it was rumored that he was being groomed for a political position. Kyle couldn’t wait until he got that promotion. Just get him out of street work. Kyle needed the three that Hanson let go. This was all again centering on the Guerins. What did they know or why did someone want them out of the way. Kyle had a lot to think about. He also had a dozen other murders and a handful of assaults to consider. Something had to break open.


Alex called Maria and told her he was bringing Michael home. Michael had told her that he was going to the store about six hours ago. Maria was frightened at him being missing. Michael’s appearance when Alex brought him up to the door didn’t help her feelings much. “What happened, Alex?” she asked.

“Let him tell you,” Alex stated. “I have to get him out of the charges Hanson made or he might loose his license.”

This brought Maria back to the Crashdown. “Michael hadn’t been raised in a kitchen and he made a lot of mistakes. Michael was always afraid that if Mr. Parker knew the number of times he had gotten burned or cut, he might fire him and Michael had to have this job. His angels were Maria and Liz. Liz would go to the first aid kit and Maria would bring some concoction she got from her mother’s store. They both worked; Michael decided that the attention he received from both girls was what always cured him. Now, he had Maria with two bags. One held a first aid kit and the second was, as before, filled with strange things from her mom. Eucalyptus oil was her favorite. Maria had lavender oil, but one whiff of that and Michael came alive. Maria, I don’t want people to think we are that type of a couple. Maria also had iodine, Neosporin and other antiseptics. She cleaned him up the best she could with many reprimands of, “Michael quite being a baby. If you go to a party, don’t complain about the Koolaid served.”

“Maria, it was that damned Hanson, he hit me in the back of the head. Then, he let three of those guys loose. I broke that redheaded guy’s pelvis. I wish I had done more. He was the one who was talking about getting the Guerins. Hope Kyle can stand on his oxygen tube tomorrow or, maybe, he can grab a quick feel to see if the pelvis is really broken,” Kyle complained.

Maria called her best friend Liz. “Yeah, Liz, Michael got into a bar fight last night.”

Liz almost giggled, “Doesn’t Michael realize his age?”

“Hey, Liz, Michael hasn’t yet gone through puberty. He is still a kid. He heard something about a bunch of guys gonna make a hit of us at home. Michael took it right to them. He hurt three of them pretty badly. You might check on them when you go in today. Could you drop by and give Michael a checkup? He is being a baby about me taking him to the hospital myself. He said put him in the same building with those three he beat up and he might just start up again,” Maria explained.

Maria had hung up the phone when it rang. “Hey, Maria, is Mike up yet? I need to talk with him pronto,” she heard Kyle’s voice say.

“Minute, Kyle, I will go get him,” Maria replied.

“Hey, Kyle, didn’t you get the message that I was an invalid? I need my beauty sleep,” Michael greeted.

“Well, Mikie, you better get up and get armed. You know that redheaded guy you put in the hospital? Hanson screwed up. He didn’t put a hold on any of them. You said the redhead was the leader and now, he has flown the coup. I put holds on the other two for disturbing the peace and distruction of private property. I surely would have liked to talk to that redhead,” Kyle stated.

“Hanson said I hurt him badly. How did he get out?” Michael asked.

That is what I am going to see. I will phone you when I return this afternoon. Bye for now,” Kyle rung off.
Stories by Ken
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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Re: Mr. & Mrs. Guerin MM,mature, pg4, ch15 Apr 8, 2013

Post by ken_r » Sun Apr 14, 2013 11:42 am

sonia62: That is one of the biggest problems in cases like this where several people are getting hurt. Who was the actual target.

keepsmiling7: The red headed guy is worse than you think.

Chapter 16

Lenny Rubenstine was sitting at his desk. A thoroughly ticked off Detective Valenti was sitting on the other side of Lenny’s desk. “I thought that guy was badly injured,” Kyle stated. Hanson had said Michael nearly killed him. Well this shows how much trust you can put in Hanson.

“He was hurt. The floor nurse is supposed to stop by before she goes home. Valenti, something strange is going on. I am gonna get blamed if we don’t figure out what,” Rubenstine moaned.

Just then there was a clearing of the throat at the door. “The head nurse says you want to see me,” a pretty blonde said.

“Yeah, Ms. Anderson,” Lenny said. “What was going on with that red head who came in last night?”

“I don’t know officer. There was blood in his urine and he was complaining about pain through his abdomen,” Anderson reported.

“If he was that bad, where is he?” Lenny demanded.

“A doctor came up to take him to x-ray. He never returned,” Nurse Anderson said.

“Did the doctor sign in or does anyone know who the doctor was?” Lenny asked.

“Yes, I checked his name tag. He had broken it and it was in his pocket. He held it up when he asked what room the John Doe was in. He was a Doctor Parker,” Sally Anderson said in a quivering voice.

Michael thought, “She just figured it out.”

“Nurse Anderson, did he hand you the ID card,” Lenny barked.

Salley Anderson was as white as the sheets she had been carrying. “No, he held it by one end and Doctor Parker was all I saw. Oh god, was that Doctor Parker-Evans ID card?” She mumbled.

“Bingo, it would have been nice if you had figured that out a few hours ago,” Lenny growled like a pit bull with his mouth full of silk drapes. Lenny turned to Kyle. “That must be why they mugged Doctor Parker-Evans. They wanted an ID badge in case someone got hurt and sent to the hospital. Nurse, what did this Doctor Parker look like?”

“He was dark, very thin and looked, maybe East Indian of maybe African American or something. He did have a scar and on the back of his hand he had a tatoo or something that looked like a bar code,” she stated factually. I remember being surprised that he bad teeth. I would have thought a doctor would have gotten them fixed.


It was afternoon. Liz had stopped by on her way to take the night shift at the hospital. “Michael, how many fingers am I holding up,” Liz asked.

“I see six or seven,” Michael growled.

Liz turned to Maria, “Just what I thought, we are going to have to open up his skull cap and let his brain breathe.”

Michael blanched, “Open up my skull. Unh, unh, Liz you are a dear friend, but you aren’t getting close to me with any of those Craftsman tools. I saw one finger, okay,” Michael pleaded.

Liz still looking at Maria, “Like I said, he is delirious. We gotta open his skull up.”

“Yeah, Liz, maybe change that dish water he has for a brain and give him a brain transfusion,” Maria stated.

“Okay, okay, a joke is a joke. I don’t see double and except for a few pains there isn’t anything wrong with me,” Michael emphatically said.

Liz slapped Michael on his thigh. “Now, maybe you will listen to your doctor,” she said.

Michael didn’t have any smart retort. The leg Liz had slapped was the one he had slammed into the red head so many times. Michael’s eyes were squeezed shut with pain.

Liz stood up. Maria he does need a bit of rest. No bar fights for at least two days. Give him aspirin or if that doesn’t work, here is a prescription for Vicodan.

At the doorway, Liz hugged Maria. “Like I said. Michael is fine. Hot baths a bit of pain killer and no excitement for a few days,” Liz cautioned Liz.

“Thanks Chica. When he gets better, Mikie and I have a bunch of things to talk about. That Geek kid was a dream. I gave him an extra hundred last night for his work,” Maria graciously stated.

“That’s great Maria. Bobby’s getting ready for college. That will help. Max is trying to get him a job working with the hospital staff in setting up better software.” With that Liz hurried to make her shift on time. She wanted to see the three guys Michael had put in the emergency room. Liz knew Michael as a very gentle guy, but if Maria was threatened, Katie bar the door, Michael would come in like a wounded tiger.


Kyle called Michael and described what had happened. ““Kyle, that was one of those who Hanson let go. I didn’t get a chance to mark him. I think Chico or somebody told him to stand down!” Michael exclaimed.

“Yeah, I still got the other two but I bet syringes to donuts, they don’t know nuttin. The red head was the leader and the one who knows what’s going on,” Kyle sighed. “Maria said she got something off the Internet. Let me know if it something we can use. Mikie, I think you and the missus are targets. Keep out of dark alleys and tell the missus to dust off that baby Glock you gave her. These boys are rough and I don’t have time to look for new friends. You know, us alien hunters from Roswell gotta stick together.”

With a, “Yeah, man,” Michael hung up. Michael would surely liked to have another go-around with that Redhead. The redhead had called Maria a bitch. That was enough to bust his balls, but he clearly knew something. Every time it looked like they knew where they were headed, someone tossed in a curve.


“Mikie, Bobby is only 16 and he is going to be in college next year. You should see him work. He explained that, how you ask the question is how you control the search. If the first time didn’t work, he would change one or two words and have another go. With a high certainty, he thinks Jean DeLuca was Paul’s father. Jean DeLuca had two sons Paul and Sean. Sean DeLuca had one son, Sean junior. Bobby dug up a copy of Paul’s paternity test. It certified me as his daughter. Now Jean DeLuca was connected with one of those mob unions. You know, take as much money from the workers and use the mob to keep them in line. Jean DeLuca was quite a guy. He turned state’s evidence on his enemies and forced the feds to let him off any one of his transgressions. Those he supported loved him and the rest hated him. There were over 10 times he survived attempts at assassination. Towards the end, I think both the feds and the other mobsters were after him. We think he sent his son, Paul out of town to hide out. Apparently by this time old Jean didn’t trust his other son, Sean. There was money scattered all over the place. The feds dug up Jean’s driveway and found a bunch of cash and bonds. Of course by this time Jean had not survived the 11th attempted assassination. There is evidence that some of his stash has been laundered. Except for one account of Paul being in the southwest and the paternity test, there is no more about him. Sean junior seems to have disappeared also. When Bobby left last night, he said, no one knows where all of Old Jean’s money was hidden both legal and illegal.” Maria and her little buddy had uncovered a bunch of information. Still, there was no reason for Maria and Michael to be a target. Someone wanted one or both of them killed.

“Hey Kyle, no, it only hurts when I laugh. Don’t ever lie to Doctor Liz Evans. I was kidding her a bit and she did the poky-roo to my sore leg. You ought to get her to help with interrogations. What do the feds have on a Jean DeLuca. That would be Paul’s father. He is a big wig back east. Also, do they have anything on a Sean DeLuca junior. He would be Maria’s cousin.” Michael hung up the phone. Liz had been right, he wasn’t in shape for a bar fight and the way he felt it would be quite a while before his bouncy energy returned. Michael still wanted a piece of old Red, but later, Michael had a bit of healing to catch up on himself.

Kyle had reported that Hanson had been causing trouble, but Kyle finally had it up to his chin with Hanson and had called him out during on of the briefings. Kyle said the administration wasn’t happy, but he had good intel that they were putting their money on Kyle if it came to blows. Kyle said that the other two hoods who were left in the hospital were a bust. At first Kyle thought they were stone walling, but finally someone came up with their report while in high school, they were local. Timmy Waters and Angelo Chavez had barely made it out of the slowest Special Ed classes. In “No School Left Behind,” those two hadn’t even found the buss and now Waters had to talk with a pencil and tablet. Spelling bees never feared him.

There had been times when Michael had been placed in Special Ed. The teachers bent over backwards until they understood that education for an orphan kid who worked almost full time taking care of himself, was not a first priority. Michael felt sorry for the poor teacher who had to waste time with the likes of Waters and Chavez. Special Ed had finally gotten Michael caught up and they found he was pretty smart, if someone actually cared about him. Caring about Waters and Chavez was a waste of time. Nothing Kyle could do would get any information. They didn’t know nuttin.


“Hey Mikie, Old Jean DeLuca got blown away in the late 80s. The feds said he was a treasure trove of information against his competitors. His handlers were constantly in trouble for little things that Jean did himself, like murder and bunco. He would turn on anybody then try to take over their territory when the feds took them off the street. Papa and Sean senior didn’t get along, but Paul was always a favorite. Paul was still a teen when papa got waxed. There was something about hippies, but everyone always said Paul was pretty straight. He didn’t smoke, drink to excess or run around very much. The only real evidence that Paul was still alive was that paternity test. The feds heard he was running around with some underage girl. The paternity test and Maria’s birth certificate are the only things the feds had to go on. They asked me if I knew anything, I told them not a thing, I was just making an inquiry.” That was the official line. Kyle was sure the feds could find Maria if they wanted.


Maria had disappeared. Michael was still in bed most of the day and Maria yelled out, “Hey babe, I need some milk from the 7/11.”

Michael had replied, “That’s find babe, wake me when you get back.

When Michael woke up it was dark outside. “Hey, Maria, I thought I told you to wake me up,” he called out.

All that faced Michael was silence. Michael swung his legs out of bed and tried to sit up. “Slowly boy, slowly,” he thought. It was several minutes before the room stopped spinning. The attempt at standing cause a hundred tiny voices to all shout, “Stop, murder, police.” His legs and back were not happy.

Liz would be on duty, but she had her cell phone. Michael called. “Liz, have you seen Maria anywhere?”

“No, Michael, she said she was doing fine last night and except for being a grouch you were doing as expected,” Liz answered.

Michael called Isabel Whitman. Maria and Izzy were not drinking buddies, but they did work on several charities together. “Isabel, Michael here, let me call Alex. Maria might have contacted him about her investments.”

Alex and Michael always joked with each other, this time Michael wasn’t in the mood for anything. “Hey Mike, Maria go find someone better able to take care of her?” Alex asked.

“Not today Alex. This is serious. Maria went to the 7/11 to get a bottle of milk. I still am under the weather. She was supposed to wake me when she got home. It was just after lunch when she left and she isn’t back yet. There is a bunch of really bad stuff going around right now. Maria found a ton of information about her dad. His family was what could eat the sopranos alive. They are pussys compared to the DeLucas. Alex I am scared. I fell sound asleep and she never came home or called. Something has happened,” Michael explained.

“Sorry Mike, did you call Liz, or maybe Tess or better yet call Kyle?” Alex asked.

“Not yet. I called Liz and I need to call her back. I gotta find out my limits with this pain killer. I got to get up, but I don’t want to be a walking drug head. I need to think,” Michael hung up. He still wasn’t clear what he was going to do.


“Just what do you mean accosting me this way?” a very mad Maria said to the three men before her.

“Nothing personal, honey. There are people who will pay, for you not to be in circulation,” one tall man said through rotting teeth.

“How much will they pay? I will double it,” Maria retorted.

“Sorry, doll, if we don’t deliver you, the hit lists falls on us. That is the way things works,” rotten teeth replied.

There was a sound from the shadows. Looking closely, Marie saw a forth man lying on a couch. “Besides, that man of yours done put me in a bad shape,” a redheaded man remarked.

“Aw, Mikie was just funning. If he had been serious he would have broken both of your legs,” Maria said, trying to be nonchalant.

The redheaded man stirred and then he groaned from the pain caused from his movement. Maria saw him spit on the floor and the spittle was laced with blood. Maria looked closer and saw a thin stream of blood running out of the corner of his mouth. “Gimme, a gat. I want to be the one who silences this smart assed bitch,” Red moaned.

“In good time, all in good time. They wants to see her before we sends her off,” cautioned rotten teeth.

“What does anyone want with me?” Maria asked. “I am just a dame with a ton of dough. The morning paper is full of dames like me. Why pick on me?”
Stories by Ken
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

User avatar
Obsessed Roswellian
Posts: 860
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Location: New Mexico

Re: Mr. & Mrs. Guerin MM,mature, pg4, ch16 Apr 14, 2013

Post by ken_r » Sun Apr 21, 2013 12:25 pm

keepsmiling7: One should always be careful about learning about their past.

Chapter 17

Michael was sure that Maria’s disappearance was connected to the bombing and everything afterward. That grenade hadn’t been carelessly thrown through the window. It was only by Michael’s quick response that Maria wasn’t hurt. The murders, the muggings and Maria getting stabbed were all part of the same plot. Michael was sure that Kyle was drawing the same conclusion. Suddenly, someone wanted Maria out of the way. Putting Maria in the middle of this investigation gave this frightening result and brought everything together.

“Hey, Emilio, I need help from your primos,” Michael requested.

“Hey, Mikie, what’s going on,” Emilio responded.

“Someone put the grab on Maria. If it’s ransom they want, Maria’s gots tons of money. I am afraid this is something else. All the problems we have been having are pointing to someone wanting Maria out of the way. You mentioned a new group moving into town. Could your boys sort of sniff around and see if they can get any wind of an Anglo lady being yanked off the streets? If they find anything, get word to me. It’s my problem and I will solve it. I don’t want any of your boys to get hurt,” Michael explained.

“Will do, Mikie. Say if you storm the bastille, my primos are pretty good soldiers. I will be proud to stand beside you. Mikie, we are cuates, twins, amigos for ever,” Emilio replied.

“Thanks Emilio, if it looks too strong for me and I can’t use Kyle and his cops, I will remember your offer. As you said, you have worked hard to build your people up. You don’t need asses like Hanson to have an excuse to go back to calling you a gang. I gotta call Raquel DeLeon. She owes me one anyhow. What I need most is be pointed in some direction. I gotta feeling Emilio, if this is about Maria’s family, she won’t have much time.” With that, Michael hung up. Yeah, that was the way of la gente, the way of the barrio, you help each other, but you don’t destroy your friends in the process.

“Hey, Raquel, how are things going?” Michael greeted.

“Pretty good Mikie. Hanson has tried to close us down as a public nuisance. I called that shyster friend of yours, Alex. Alex got an injunction against Hanson. Alex says we are on pretty safe ground. What’s going on in your world?” Raquel asked.

“Someone put the grab on Maria,” Michael stated.

“Oh no, ya got any idea of who?” Raquel inquired.

“Probably Maria’s family. We are finding that they are a pretty mean lot. That is what is funny. Maria has gone on for years and forgot she ever she had a family. Something must have happened. Now, everything from the bombing of Robert’s restaurant to the several murders all point to someone wanting to get at Maria. Hey, Chico did me a big favor. Can you ask the rest of your staff to be on the lookout for any bits of conversation involving the kidnapping of an Anglo lady? Yeah, I’ll owe you a big one. Don’t let anyone get hurt. Just get me some information. And, thanks a bunch Raquel.” Michael hung up and had one more idea.

“Samuel, have someone get my pickup out. I gotta see a man,” Michael yelled.

“Yes sir, Mr. Guerin,” Samuel replied.

Michael had told Samuel several times that he didn’t need to be that formal when he and Michael were the only two people were involved. Samuel had shook his head, “Sorry Mike, but part of me learning to be a gentle man is the formal speech. I will try to keep our ball games of catch the same, but in manor business, it is best to stay with the formal speech.” Michael hadn’t said any more. Samuel seemed proud of his position. Michael privately wondered when their house had become a manor.

Michael was cruising down Central Avenue. He wasn’t sure where he could find DeAngelo, but he was hoping he would recognize the place when he found it. There weren’t many ethnic gangs in the southwest. Mexican nationals were involved in drugs and some white slavery. The Hispanics Emilio knew shunned them as bad karma. There was a so-called Greek Mafia, namely one very big extended family. They were mostly involved in gambling. Sport’s gambling was their thing. The Native American casinos taking care of normal games. During football season the Greeks were pretty easy to find. Michael had been told by Kyle that there were a few Russians in the south valley, Michael knew that leaving the Russians alone was best. Kyle had warned Michael to stay away from them. Kyle hadn’t said what they were doing, but Michael took Kyle’s warning seriously.

At the edge of the city just before you entered the mountains, Michael saw where a new nightclub had gone up. In the parking lot, Michael saw a dark sedan. Michael remembered back to the time DeAngelo had picked them up. There were two hoods dressed in black suits standing around the sedan smoking. That surely looked like DeAngelo’s bunch. Michael parked on the opposite side of the building from the dark sedan. Getting out Michael walked into the place. The southwest is mostly informal, but there are some places. “Hey, you, you can’t get in here without a tie,” a man standing at the door shouted.

Michael was determined to see DeAngelo and no doorman, even one with an obvious bulg of a shoulder holster under his jacket, was going to stop Michael. Michael walked up to the doorman his hands hanging loosely. Michael was ready for almost anything that would come his way. The doorman’s hands went quickly up and Michael flinched when suddenly he felt a soft something pulling at his neck. “Hey, be still. I kain’t tie no double Winston if you are squirming all over the place.” Michael now had a tie. The tie definitely clashed with his jeans and tee shirt, but he was now, “wearing a tie.”

Michael nodded his thanks and entered the floor. There were many tables scattered around, a Mexican band was playing and there was a pretty señorita singing songs of the far south, beneath the Rio Grande. Off to the side, but where he had a first class view of any show in progress, Michael saw DeAngelo. The table sat several very hot women and at surrounding tables, Michael saw DeAngelo’s army gathered to come to the aid of their boss, if necessary. Michael took the straight forward approach. He walked right up to where DeAngelo was sitting. As he got close, the bodyguard at the surrounding tables stood. Before they could act, Michael called out, “DeAngelo, amigo, how’s they hanging?”

DeAngolo moved his hand over the table and made downward motions signaling his men to be seated. “Well Guerin, what the fuck do you want?” he greeted.

“You told me there were strangers moving into town. I don’t know if it’s them or someone else, but someone put the grab on my girl,” Michael explained.

“What do you want me to do about it?” DeAngelo asked.

“I want you to know that I don’t think it is you. It could be strangers or, more probably, it is family. I am going to hit them and I don’t want you getting antsy when I do it,” Michael finished.

DeAngelo obviously relaxed. “Yeah, family is a bitch. I had to shoot a couple cousins before the rest of my family got back in line. Some of those second or third cousins sure got inflated ideas of their importance. Hey Mikie, your dame is class. If you didn’t have that18 inch dick, I would try to win her away. DeAngelo had to laugh at the joke Michael made before. Hey, Mikie if I can’t steal her away from you, I don’t want a bunch of strangers getting her. If it is family, the sooner you do a bit of pruning the better. I will let you know if I hear anything.” With that, DeAngelo clearly dismissed Michael.

For the moment, Michael had done all he could. Emilio’s people worked among a lot of the population. If they heard anything, Michael was sure they would tell Emilio. Rachael heard a lot of things in her bar. DeAngelo wouldn’t think they were coming for him if he got word that Michael was snooping around. DeAngelo also, was the kind of guy that liked to get others owing him favors. Hanson had screwed things up for Kyle by releasing those guys Michael had fought with. The two they had in custody knew nothing. They had been picked up that night for whatever Red had intended. Red leaving the hospital would be spitting up blood without medical attention. Michael privately thought Red, after all, was just another hired man.

It was the first night in a long while that Michael went to bed without curling up to Maria. DeAngelo was right, if it was family, things could get ugly for Maria pretty fast. Kyle had called just before bedtime.

“Hey Mikie, next time you get married get a bona fide pedigree. That Jean DeLuca was a real bastard. He was turning state’s evidence on other mob members while warning the same members of federal stings. In his early days, he was a double agent, or more, for the war department. He was selling information to both sides. I ran across one statement that he may have been selling separate information to the Russians at the same time. That guy didn’t have no loyalties at all! Those two kids of his were only half brothers. The son-of-a-bitch had two wives. And, it was at the same time. He favored Paul, but all reports said Sean senior was just like the old man. Sean senior married some mob girl. Her daddy was suspected in being an enforcer for someone. Sean junior turned out to be a fuck-up as well as a delinquent.

Now, the good news by all reports, Paul, Maria’s father, was pretty responsible at least for his age. He was in his early twenties when someone sent him to the southwest to hide in a hippy commune. His daddy had been disappeared for several years. Maria’s mom was about 15 when she first met Paul. Remember, in those communes everybody was screwing everybody else. Sort of like Sex Ed in a Middle school where they show all the how to’s and avoid the better not’s. Even at 15, Maria’s mother wasn’t any virgin. Some of those older farts in the commune were pretty hard on young stuff. I am surprised that they didn’t try to run Paul off. They might have tried. Remember, he still was Old Jean’s son. Somehow, Amy got his attention. When through some of his contacts, Paul found out that the commune was to be raided, he called Amy out and they split. Being Jean’s son, Paul was well liked and someone in the feds might have passed him the info with the understanding that he not tell the hippies. I am sure they thought him taking Amy as a souvenir, when he left was his right. He saved Amy from ever getting a criminal record.

My source didn’t have any idea of what he was doing those years the three of them were living in Roswell. Maybe, he was still spying for the feds or maybe Old Jean was slipping him cash. Somehow, when he was shot down on the border, he had managed to build a stash of one hundred million dollars. That is what he gave to Maria and Amy. My source said that whatever Paul was doing for the feds, they decided that Maria and Amy deserved whatever he willed them. Looking back at everything, that paternity test was all figured in what Paul left the two women. Everything about Paul DeLuca was too pat, too perfect. I bet Philip Evans knows more if he was inclined to ever tell.”

It was late when Michael called Philip Evans. “Philip, if there is anything more you can tell me about Paul DeLuca, I would surely appreciate it. Maria has been kidnapped and we think it was family.” Threatening Philip Evans wouldn’t work and besides Philip had been very helpful to Michael as he was growing up. The Evans had learned to love Maria as they loved the rest of the young people who hung around their stepson and stepdaughter.

“Mike, let me think on this. I know that you are in a hurry, but going off half cocked won’t help. Let me call you tomorrow morning. I know you have control of Maria’s money, but if you need someone to hold toes to the fire, let me know. I still have political influence here in New Mexico. I will try to have more for you tomorrow morning, I just have to think about it for a while.” Philip Evans would have to struggle with his own conscious as well as the ethics of his profession. Michael took a double dose of Doctor Liz’s pain-killers. Tomorrow morning, Michael was going to kick ass and move mountains.
Stories by Ken
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

User avatar
Obsessed Roswellian
Posts: 860
Joined: Wed Oct 04, 2006 11:34 pm
Location: New Mexico

Re: Mr. & Mrs. Guerin MM,mature, pg4, ch17 Apr 21, 2013

Post by ken_r » Tue Apr 30, 2013 9:58 am


Chapter 18

Philip called early. That stuff Liz had given Michael was good, he didn’t have any hangover from it and he had taken a large dose. “Michael, there are things you need to know. Did you and Maria sign prenuptial agreements?

“I did. Maria didn’t want us to, but I wanted her and everybody else to understand I wasn’t interested in her money. I never had anything except for my old pickup and Maria hated it. Every gift she ever gave me, I made sure stayed in her name,” Michael explained.

“That figures. Someone else was advising Paul. He ticked Amy off a bunch with that paternity test. She always thought he was accusing her of sleeping around, probably from some guilt she had of what she had done at the commune before Paul arrived. I got hold of her and tried to explain that Paul wanted no one to dispute his claim to being Maria’s father. This was hard to explain because I didn’t know why he was so adamant about the test and it being appended to Maria’s birth certificate. Paul gave Amy one copy of the two documents and had me register another. He had a third which he asked me to keep in my records. Alex has all of those records now. Has Maria made any will or arrangements if something happens to her?” Philip finally got around to asking.

“Naw, we never talked much about money,” Michael stated.

“That is like a lot of you young folks. Mortality seldom strikes the young. But, the young die just like the rest of us. When you get Maria back, you might want to start with Alex drawing up a will for both of you,” Philip advised.

“For me, Philip, I don’t have anything except for a rusted out Ford pickup and a Glock. Everything else is Maria’s. What do I need a will for?” Michael asked incredulously.

“Mike, if Maria dies, she needs to name you as the person to handle her money. If both of you die, then who gets everything?” Philip asked.

“Philip, do you think that is what this is all about?” Michael asked.

“Mikie, families are the bitch even when they are good families when money comes around. There may be people in Maria’s family on her father’s side who are not very nice. Michael, what do you know about Amy DeLuca’s people? Apparently they disowned Amy when she joined the hippy commune. Could they have, someway, gotten in touch with the DeLucas? Do they have some individual agenda? When you get Maria back, you need to tend to some household repair. Repair done by Alex.” Philip had suggested some interesting questions.


“Hey Mikie,” Emilio had telephoned. “Ricky Sandoval is not one of mine. He is too much trouble for me to be very close. I did him a favor once so when he hears I am looking for an Anglo gal who has been grabbed, he listens up. He can’t go to the police with this. He did see an Anglo woman stopped by several men at the First Bank Mall yesterday. One of them was a tall dude, probably Hispanic, and another was a redheaded gringo who Ricky said was pretty sick. All the while he was watching them the redhead kept spitting up some dark stuff and he was wheezing. Dude could hardly talk. Ricky was busting a car at the time so he couldn’t go to the cops. He hears I am looking for something like this, he calls me this morning. The lady was in a late model Buick and the four men who took her were in an old Chevy van. Ricky says it was light colored, that is all he could tell.”


“Kyle, keep that damned Hanson away from me. I just heard that Maria was grabbed and carried off in a light colored Chevy van. One of the subjects was redheaded and was spitting up dark stuff and one of the other ones was a tall and lanky Hispanic. Those two are the assholes Hanson let go,” Michael said with venom and acid dripping from every word.

“Mike, I already talked to the captain about that episode. According to the captain, we just have to wait him out. Hanson, is scheduled to be kicked upstairs soon. I already told Hanson that I would consider it a favor and he would probably live longer if he stayed out of your way. The Captain says Hanson’s grease goes all the way to the mayor’s office.” Kyle shuffled some file folders and drew out three. “Look Mikie, the two left in the hospital are just foot soldiers. They don’t know anything. That Redhead and the skinny Hispanic dude are who we want. That Hispanic guy with the bad teeth was the one who got Red out of the hospital. Red is the important one. The hospital staff thinks Red is hurting pretty bad about now. We have been keeping a lookout on drug stores and a couple of rogue doctors who fix people up without making any report. Two of these files are of Red and the skinny dude. The third file is just comments about the two left in the hospital” Kyle told Michael.

“Kyle, I just need thirty minutes with someone who knows something,” Michael growled.

“Look, Mike, I will cover you if I can. Leave yourself a way out if you have to tickle someone’s toes,” Kyle warned.


It hadn’t been a good night for Maria. The first thing she did was run her hands down her body. Yes it was all, true. She was in a locked room dressed only in her underwear. Last night she had faced her assailants with pure bravado. It had taken all she could muster to stand before those four men and pretend she hadn’t been afraid. She had even tried to turn her kidnapping into a ransom demand by telling them she had a ton of money. One of the first things Michael had taught her was, don’t play chess when the game is checkers. These men made it clear, that they couldn’t be bought by Maria. They were more afraid of whoever was their boss than they were greedy for her money. Pretending she wasn’t afraid also came from Mikie. “It is all in presentation, Maria. Once I met a woman who told me a tale. She actually walked up to a senator in the middle of the session and soundly slapped him. The woman had been an intern and the senator, as so many of them do, had taken advantage of her. After slapping the senator, the woman turned and walked out. Secret service people started to go after her, but the senator motioned them off. The senator was the darling of the press. Many times, he invited the press to private parties with plenty of girls. The press didn’t say a word. They didn’t want their darling to appear tarnished,” Michael has said.

“Mikie, do you think the woman was telling the truth?” Maria had asked.

“Yeah, she told me the story in front of her husband. Stories that far out are usually true. Writers can’t make up things like that. I had shared a bounty with a husband-wife skip-tracer team. We had taken down a skip worth a million dollars. See Maria, when you do not appear in court, the bail money you posted is forfeited. Bounty hunters or skip-chasers get a percent of that bail as reward to turn you in. Later, Michael had told her more. “Maria, the lady got away with slapping the senator because he walked up to him in front of a bunch of people and she had a lot of bravado. If she had done this in private, she would simply have disappeared,” Michael concluded.

Well Maria had taken the first part to heart. She had shown plenty of bravado even though she was terrified. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a public present that would allow her escape. Under the orders of Red, two men held her arms while the tall man ripped off her clothes. Maria was sure what was to come. She was determined not to show fear. As the tall man ran his hands under her underwear, he was searching for weapons or at least he said, Maria saw something in his eyes that chilled her to the bone. She squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth to not cry out.

Except for his raw hands feeling and prodding her bare flesh, nothing else happened this first night. Maria was shoved into a room with no windows or air vents. Maria found a switch, which turned on the one small bulb hanging high beyond her reach.

The room had been prepared before hand. There was a porta potty off to the side and on a table there were three bottles of water, their seals still intact. The other side had a small bunk and a blanket. Maria looked around and finally gave up. She turned off the single bulb and crawling into the bunk, she pulled the blanket to protect her from the cold and at least a pretense of protecting her from any prying eyes ogling her body.

Lying on the bunk, Maria found the walls were very thin. She could make out what the men on the other side were saying. “Hey, she is a fine piece of ass. I want some of that before we put her away.” The drawl made the speaker the other Anglo other than Red.

She heard a Hispanic accent. That probably was the tall Hispanic man. “Hey, you get your turn after me. I am gonna split that piece first and last. When I finish the last time, she is gonna be ready to be put away.”

Next, Maria heard the wheezy voice. “When you jerks get through playing around, I am gonna put a pill in her head and get rid of her for keeps. Her old man done fixed me bad. But, remember, nothing happens to that broad until we get Guerin. Guerin dead, we can take all the time we want.”

All along, Maria had been stealing her self against rape. Now, she had learned that rape was only the start of what had been planned for her. Well, they had just made three mistakes. All in going after Mikie. The first thing Maria was sure of was that Michael loved her. She had walked away from him once, the fickle belief that riches would bring her what she wanted. Now, if she left Michael, Maria was sure that he wouldn’t say a thing. He would be crushed badly, but it that was what she wanted, Michael would never stand in her way.

The second thing was that Michael wasn’t that easy to kill. He had taken his service training seriously. Michael zealously worked out. Maria knew that when she was off at the hair dresser or things like that, Michael spared with Samuel O’Hare. Maria had known that Samuel had been a prizefighter. The original butler she had hired believed he had a gold mine in his job, working for a woman, especially a woman unused to handling a house hold staff. Winston had been getting kickback from delivery boys and people who wanted to get near to Maria. He had to go, but that boxing bum who Michael wanted to hire was almost too much. Michael and Winston had never liked each other. Winston probably always knew that Michael was a danger to his game. Maria came to like Samuel as she better knew him. Michael always said that Samuel was their first line of defense. Samuel was rough around the edges, but the staff also learned to like him. Michael was deadly with his Glock. He played dollar a point with many of the police at their range. Michael always let the policemen win, but only by a point or two. Michael was that good.

The third thing Maria knew about Michael was that he could track a white poodle in a snowstorm by looking for dog doo. The street people Michael knew could be counted on to find out almost anything. Maria didn’t know where Michael was, but she was confident that he would soon find her. Her only problem was to remain alive until he did.

There was one more thing that Maria remembered from Michael. “Maria,” he had said. A stupid man can be locked in an arsenal and not be able to save his life. A smart man can be locked up naked in an empty room and conquer the world. Well, Maria was half-naked locked up in an empty room. She had to keep thinking.


Michael and his pickup had been to every bar on and south of Central. He had repeated over and over that whoever snatched Maria was probably responsible for the bombing of Robert’s restaurant, the murder of Henry Fingers Nelson and probably the shooting of Carlito Valdez, the messenger from Emilio.

Jim Valenti was still in town. Michael had heard that Jim had moved in with Amy DeLuca. Michael might later turn to Jim for advice, but Maria would kill him if her mother’s new boyfriend got hurt. Same with Samuel, He would have been in the same league with Earthquake if the police busted up Michael’s party. Whatever Michael would be called to do would be done by him alone. All Michael knew was that he wasn’t going to loose Maria.

It was late when the news came. A whispered voice over the phone. “Hey, Mikie, no one ever said those guys you kicked ass on were smart. That tall lanky Hispanic guy is back in the bar,” the voice, Michael knew to be Raquel’s whispered.

“Keep him there,” Michael requested. “I want a piece of him, but I don’t want to meet him in the bar,” Michael told her.

“Thanks, Mikie, but do what you gotta to get that woman back. Ain’t hardly anyone else who would put up with you.” Raquel hung up.

Michael was dressed in black slacks, black sweater and a black watch cap. His Glock was belted around his waist and he was now wearing black sap gloves just like Hanson had used on him before. Michael knew, personally, what those gloves could do. Michael also knew that he was a lot stronger than Hanson and he had to favor his punches until he found out where they were keeping Maria. It wouldn’t do to kill the only lead he had to where Maria was locked up. Michael found a place to park his pickup not too far from the bar. He patiently took up surveillance outside.
Stories by Ken
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

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Posts: 860
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Location: New Mexico

Re: Mr. & Mrs. Guerin MM,mature, pg5, ch18 Apr 30, 2013

Post by ken_r » Sun May 05, 2013 1:36 pm


Chapter 19

About noon that day, someone, probably the southern drawling Anglo, came in and left Maria a cheese sandwich and a pint of milk. As he walked in the room, he couldn’t take his eyes off Maria. Maria refused to cower or attempt to cover herself. She stood proudly as the man tossed the sandwich on the table along with the milk. Not a word passed between them.

Maria wolfed down the meager meal. One carton of milk and skinny sandwich wasn’t a real meal as far as she was concerned. Maria was so hungry and she felt so vulnerable without her clothes. Maria lay on the bunk and once again, she heard the men talking. “Sanchez says we can go out and get some whores tonight if he don’t get Guerin first. I am sure he isn’t wasting all his time looking for Guerin.”

Maria heard the drawl, “Yeah, Sanchez will be taking care of himself, you better believe.”

Then Maria heard the wheeze. “You bums don’t quit talking about pussy, I am gonna kill both of you. That damned Guerin tore me apart.”

Back to the southern drawl, “Well if Sanchez finds a way to get Guerin, then we all win. We get laid, Sanchez tears her apart and then she will be ready for you to finish off.”

Maria could only shudder. She refused to loose her faith. Those guys couldn’t take Michael.


Michael stood outside the bar for almost an hour. Finally, the tall Hispanic came out and standing in front of the bar he paused to light a cigarette. The lanky man ambled down the street and turned at the corner alley. Michael moved like a cat. He came up behind the man before the man knew it. With one arm Michael caught him about his neck; the man’s arms automatically went up to fight the choke hold. With his lead-lined fist, Michael pummeled him over and over in the kidney.

With a groan the man fell forwards in the alley. He rolled over and looked at Michael. Michael stepped back and assumed a boxer’s stance. With a roar the man jumped up, lowered his head and charged Michael. Michael swung right and left the lead gloves taking their toll in broken ribs. The man slid down to the ground. He was plenty game. He struggled up and again came at Michael. Up to now not a word had passed. Again and again, the man faced Michael’s lead gloves.


The three bottles of water were long gone. The smell of the disinfectant in the porta-potty was throughout the room. All they had given Maria was the cheese sandwich earlier in the morning. Maria had decided that asking for more might attract the wrong attention. She had heard them men talking through the walls and knew that as soon as they killed Michael, her fate was going to be bad. That tall man with the rotten teeth had insisted that he would be the one to take her first. The indignity when he searched her was magnified by his rancid breath. The only man not intending to rape her was the red head and that was because Michael had hurt him so badly. Really, it was his own fault. The police had taken him to a hospital, but before the doctors could look at him, bad breath using the disguise and Liz’s ID card rolled him out and he made his escape. The escape was an escape to hell as he really had been hurt fighting Michael. Red had said his intention was to place the final bullet in Maria’s head.

Bad breath had a strong Hispanic accent. Maria hadn’t heard him for several hours. All she heard from Red was moans and groans. The conversation of the other two was based on Bad Breath coming back and letting them go find some whores. Noon had come and gone and Maria hadn’t received anything to eat. It was the same with suppertime. The men had stripped her watch along with most of her clothes so Maria had no exact idea of time. Maria had heard less and less from Red. His moans and groans had lapsed into a loud snore. Michael had probably messed up his breathing during their fight.

Maria didn’t know if it was dark outside or not. Her stomach said it had been a long time since she had been given a decent meal. She was becoming dehydrated because three small bottles of water were now used up. Maria still didn’t think it would be a good to ask for anything. Out of sight, out of mind and if she said anything they might once again start thinking of her half naked condition just through that door. Listening through the wall, she heard the two guards arguing sports. Maria only heard the slap of cards, apparently they had lapsed into some card game or the other. This went on with only laughs cursing and cheers as one or the other player out did the other.

“It’s getting late and Sanchez ain’t back,” she heard one man say.

“You can bet he is getting his ashes hauled at some whorehouse,” the other man replied.

There was a moving around and then, the first man said, “Old Red ain’t in much shape, is he.”

“He’s dying. I went into the bathroom while ago right after he hauled his carcass there and back. The toilet was smeared with blood. The dumb shit is bleeding internally,” the second man explained.

“Yeah, but Sanchez said Red knew too much. Only he and Sanchez know who the boss is. Angelo and Timmy ended up with the cops. That Valenti grilled them pretty hard.”

“Hey, what you say we rip a piece off that little bitch we got in there. It ain’t as if we are gonna ever turn her loose or something,” one of the men said. Maria wasn’t sure which one it was. His words again sent a cold chill through Maria, but she finally got herself under control. If she was raped, she imagined it would be pretty bad, but her duty was to stay alive until Michael found her. Maria didn’t allow herself a second where she didn’t believe that Michael wasn’t coming. She just had to wait it out. Like Michael had told her about the police, her duty was to go home. Someway what ever happened to her she must survive.

There was some mumbling that Maria couldn’t make out. Then again the cold chills. “Who goes first?” someone asked.

“Oh great,” Maria thought, “Now, they were going to gamble on my body.”

“You want to go scissors, paper, stone?” one man asked. Hand games were originally from the far east. It was different from flipping a coin in that the coin flip done fairly was described by statistics. Paper covers stone, stone breaks scissors and scissors cuts paper, so if you could read something in your opponents face it became a game not of chance but of skill. For most people playing this game it was still just a game of chance.

Maria heard, “Awe, shit. Paper covers stone. You wanna go two out of three?”

Again there was a period of silence and then she heard in almost whisper, one! two! three! Damn it, stone breaks scissors. You want to make it three out of five?

“Hey, you are just a bad sport? What’s the difference, it isn’t as if we only have to take one go at her? Red is down for the count and if Sanchez has gotten himself into something that he can’t get back from that is his tough luck. I am getting tired of this gig anyway. Let’s each take a couple of turns, break her neck and get out of here. I keep thinking that if things had gone different at that bar fight, it could be me over there on that bunk puking my guts out. That Guerin is more than I want to face.” Again, Maria couldn’t tell which man was talking.

“All right, but don’t take your first trip too long. I want at least one crack at her,” the other man said.

Maria moved as far as she could away from the door. It opened and she was looking at the southern man with the extreme drawl. Should have been able to identify him through the wall, but she hadn’t. “Well … darling, your lucky night. I won first draw. We can take it one of two ways. You can take them undies off real slowly or I can rip them off. Course if I rip them off you will be naked for the rest of the time you are with us.”

Maria silently prayed, “Michael I need you.” Taking her own clothes off would probably be less painful than fighting with southern drawl. Maria slowly reached behind herself and unfastened her bra. In her mind she played music to pace herself. “Mikie, Mikie,” again she made her silent prayer. As she placed her thumbs under the waist band of her panties they heard a crash a scream, “Damn you Guerin, damn you to hell.” Followed by a shot. Then, Maria heard two more shots close together. There was a scream followed by a death rattle as Red died in his own blood.

Maria heard shouting. It was from the other man, southern drawl hadn’t cleared the door back into the other room. “Guerin, Guerin, I didn’t hurt your woman. It was all Red’s and Sanchez’s idea. Look I stayed out here. He was doing her.”

Maria heard southern drawl, “You bastard, I should have given you three out of five. Look Guerin, I haven’t touched your girl. See for yourself, she is as good as new waiting for you. Don’t take it out on me. That little bastard told me to go first. He wanted last because he intended to kill her when he was through. … Please, Guerin, I ain’t done nothing, really.” Maria heard southern drawl crying.

Maria stepped out into the other room, the blanket wrapped around her. It was old and it was badly torn, but it was all she had. One man was standing against the wall his bladder having abandoned any control. On the cot, she saw Red lying in pools of blood his arm hanging off the cot still holding a cheap semi automatic pistol. Michael dressed in black was standing at the door with his Glock in one hand and a fighting knife in the other. Nearest the door to the room which had been her prison, Maria saw the man she knew only as southern drawl. He was on his knees tears streaming down his face. “Look lady, tell him I never touched you,” he pleaded.

“Touched me, Maria almost screamed. You held me as that foul breathed man ran his hands over my bare skin. I heard you and what the two of you were going to do to me. You were gonna kill me. Michael, that rotten teeth man claimed he was going to rape me to death.”

“Maria, he is probably in the hospital now. He was a little slow telling me where they were keeping you,” Michael stated.

“Good,” Maria replied. “Now for payback time. She walked up to the man on his knees. “You wanted two out of three chances to rape me. Well, I am here.”

“Lady, I didn’t touch you. I wouldn’t have really done those things, really, really,” he pleaded.

“Well, I am gonna only touch you once.” Maria swung at the man’s face, not the way of a man but like a cat who women are really related to. Maria sliced her claws across his face and blood ran down his shirt. Maria turned from the bleeding man and said, “Michael, I just broke a nail.”

Ouside you could hear sirens. “I asked Raquel to give me about ten minutes head start. Looks like she about did it,” Michael stated. “Maria go back into the other room until we take care of the animals.”

“Mikie, don’t insult the animals. Skunks and snakes look good to me compared to those two,” Maria said.

It was but a few minutes that Michael came into the room. Maria fell into his arms. “Mikie, I prayed you would arrive in time. Mikie you never have let me down.”

Michael held Maria for several minutes. Then he gently disentangled himself from her and taking the single blanket she had been wearing, Michael folded it in half and cutting a “T” slot in the middle pulled it over Maria’s head. Looking around Michael found a piece of rope that had originally tied Maria he tied the rope like a belt around the serape he had just created.

They stepped back into the room in time to see Kyle directing his men to take the two survivors down town and the meat wagon to take Red to the morgue. “Michael those two don’t know anything. They are just hired hands. We still don’t know what this is all about,” Maria whispered.


Maria dressed as she usually did as a high fashion model. Michael was back in jeans and tennis. Kyle spoke up, “Those two were as dumb as Waters and Chavez. With Red dead, we are going to have to pin everything on Sanchez. I got him in the hospital with two uniformed guards. Liz sent word for Maria to cut back on your red meat. Sanchez is pretty badly hurt. When we get him out, we will grill him. He is the only one who can be charged with everything and he might cop a plea if we threatened to let Michael talk to him again.”

Maria hooked her arm in Michael’s and said, “Kyle, tell Liz that Michael is doing just fine and I am increasing his steaks to two a night both rare.”

Maria and Michael, Mr. and Mrs. Guerin, went home and hopefully some peace and quiet. It wasn’t long before Maria phoned Isabel. “Hey, Izzy, yes, I am fine. I wanted to know what next we have on our social calendar. Charity dance, scheduled at the end of the week, sure, I will be fine by then. I just need get a couple good nights sleep. See you then.” Maria was back on her game. If she had any demons, Michael would have to watch carefully to catch them.
Stories by Ken
Last edited by ken_r on Sun May 12, 2013 1:13 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-

User avatar
Obsessed Roswellian
Posts: 860
Joined: Wed Oct 04, 2006 11:34 pm
Location: New Mexico

Re: Mr. & Mrs. Guerin MM,mature, pg5, ch19 May 5, 2013

Post by ken_r » Sun May 12, 2013 1:40 pm


Author note: The description of La Luz campground and every thing attributed to "Dead Horse Canyon" is all real from memories of my youth

Chapter 20

Maria’s hope for several good nights sleep, was only a fantasy. Liz called as she was getting off her 12 hour shift. They talked several minutes as Liz assured herself that Maria was safe. Kyle called with the latest information they had gotten from Sanchez. Raquel called and Maria couldn’t help but feel that Raquel would have rather talked to Michael. Emilio called and, Michael not being home, he gave Maria congratulations on her escape. Alex called and announced that he needed see both Michael and Maria this afternoon. Something about what Philip had told him. Amy DeLuca called wondering if anything interesting had happened to Maria this week. Maria put her off by claiming that they had been busy.

Michael had just come home at noon when Samuel entered to announce, “Madam has a phone call from what I think is a gentleman.”

“Yes,” Maria said into the phone.

“Am I talking to Mrs. Maria DeLuca-Guerin?” a cultured voice asked.

“Yess …” Maria answered hesitantly.

“Ah, my dear cousin. This war is getting too costly. You have something that is rightfully mine. We need to talk without so much fanfare. I propose we meet at Dead Horse Canyon at midnight. Come alone and I will be alone also. Until then, I remain faithfully your cousin, Sean DeLuca.

If Sean DeLuca’s intention had been to create dialog between Maria and those around her, he most certainly succeeded. When Kyle heard about the meeting, he was adamant. “Maria, you know that Dead Horse Canyon is a box canyon with only one way in or out?” Even growing up in Roswell, Kyle had heard of Dead Horse Canyon. In the fifties, or maybe even earlier, the sprawling city was rushing toward the mountains. The city was defined by the paved roads not the limits set by the city fathers. Ever since the first road, only a wagon trail on the banks of the Rio, there had always been faint traces of those who wanted to venture further from centers of civilization. As the city had become a known source for electricity, natural gas, water and sewage, the ventures were more for immediate and short term excitement than for habitation. To the high school youth this meant “Beer Busts,” and “Make-outs,” that is hangovers and hot sex.

There must have been a time when the canyon was unusable as someone discovered a dead horse on one of the paths leading back between the foothills. Lights in Dead Horse Canyon could not be seen from the city. Once there, all thoughts and rules of the city could be forgotten. Also, the “Establishment” could easily block off the canyon. On nights when traffic was down, the coffee at the all night truck stop was stale, a trooper from one law enforcement or the other would suggest, “We could always raid Dead Horse Canyon.” Of course, they were careful to not do this too often, thus they were always assured that they could find action. Stories of naked young girls and kegs of beer to be confiscated kept the reputation of the canyon state wide.

“Maria, you get your ass back in that canyon, almost anything could happen to you. I finally got the rap sheets on Sean DeLuca. The old man DeLuca was a robber baron from the past, but he had dignity. He favored Paul over Sean senior. He sent Paul out to the southwest for safety, but whatever he was doing back east, you can bet the Sean senior and his kid were doing the same. Paul’s father was playing loose with the feds and the crooks. Sean was strictly a criminal. I am sure that the Sean you talked to was your cousin, Sean Junior. The feds would love to have a couple hours talk with that Junior,” Kyle informed them.

Maria could be extraordinarily stubborn sometimes. Kyle and Michael had cut her out of one part of this investigation and now the ball was in her court. Sean had declared she come alone so they could hash out their differences. Maria was sure that some of this was the money she and Amy had inherited, but there could be something else. “Michael, Kyle, this may be something I have to do myself.”

Michael spoke like he had been doing ever since Maria brought up the phone call. “Yes, Maria, do this, but not alone. You need plenty of backup.”

“Michael, he chose this place because I imagine, it is easy to see who is coming in and going out. Kyle do you know much about this dead horse place?” Maria asked.

“Yeah, when I was back in Roswell high, we played Central high on an away game. I snuck out of the motel and met one of the Central High cheerleaders. She took me for a real excursion trip back into Dead Horse Canyon. Since being on the force we raid it from time to time, usually for the amusement of it. It has been a make-out place for almost a half a century. And yes, that is why the teenagers still use it. You can see those entering and leaving from the canyon hills. Usually, we rush the place. By the time we arrive, the teens are packing up and ready to move out. A few years ago, one group of teens driving there without headlights had a head-on with a car returning from the canyon, also without headlights. It is not an easy place to sneak up on,” Kyle replied.

“See Michael,” Maria stated. “Backup would only warn Sean and chase him away. We want confrontation to see what he wants.”


Later that morning, they were with Alex, the lawyer. “What he wants, Maria? What he wants, is you dead. He has tried to kill you several times. I had a long talk with Philip Evans. You and Michael need to get good directives about what happens to your money if either or both of you get killed. You need to make this decision public so it is understood that killing you won’t leave your fortune open to a court’s decision. Court decisions can be too easily bought.”

“Alex, what if it is not all about the money? What can we do to protect what we don’t even know about?” Maria asked.

“Then, you need to have very detailed directions about very general things that fall under your control,” Alex stated. “It would help if we knew if there are other things that the Sean side of your family might want.”

“Until I have a meeting with Sean, we won’t have any idea,” Maria said.

“Maria, you and your mother have trusted me to manage your fortune, now, you are going to have to trust me to draw up details of a will. I took the liberties of drawing up a draft. You and Michael need to sign it. We can tailor it and amend it later,” Alex directed.


It was later in the afternoon when Michael faced Maria for the last time, in his opinion on the subject. “Maria, you are not going to go alone. You are going to take the Lincoln Town Car and I am going to go as your chauffer. When you face Sean, you put on an act that he couldn’t expect you to drive yourself. I will borrow a uniform from Samuel and get your staff to better fit it to me.” This time Michael didn’t look like he was willing to give on this point. Secretly Maria was pleased. She hadn’t thought of having a chauffer and using the limo. Truthfully, Maria was dreading facing her cousin alone.

Alex had Maria and Michael’s signatures on the draft will, but he still worried about Maria facing her cousin alone. He made a phone call. “Hey, Emilio, are any of your primos cowboys?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, about a dozen of them are from the rural areas around the city. What do you need?” Emilio asked.

“Do you think they could find their way along the trails to Dead Horse Canyon just before midnight?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, there is a moon, at least for the first part of the evening. We could truck the horses to that camp grounds to the north and find our way to the canyon,” Emilio answered.

“Michael’s wife, Maria, is intending to meet with relatives in the canyon about midnight. If you could maybe, take up a look out and cell phone me if you see trouble. I can get a squad of cops there quickly if they are needed,” Alex explained

“Mike’s wife is going alone to meet someone who is, maybe, causing all the trouble. What’s Mike saying about all of this?” Emilio asked.

“Last I heard, they were still shouting at each other. I am sure they will work something out. These relatives have to be stopped. People are getting hurt and killed,” Alex finished.


“Uncle Sully, Robert here. I understand that it was Guerin’s in-laws who torched my place. The DeLuca mob from back east is moving into the southwest. One of my waiters has a girl who works for the Guerins. She says that they are planning for Maria to meet with these relatives at midnight in Dead Horse Canyon.”


“Okay, DeAngelo, you says youse wants to get even with those who hurt your daughter. What say we get a couple bottles of wine, a whisky for me and a couple of soldiers and mosey out to
this Dead Horse Canyon? Isn’t that the way you westerners say it? I heard the old grandpa DeLuca used to play both sides with the feds when he was alive. Them DeLucas ain’t to be trusted, no slight to that gal of Guerins. Actually, I hear she is some peaches and Guerin is a straight arrow. Anyway, they is our own and the in-laws are outsiders. Send them back in boxes I always say,” Sully O’Sullivan, even though he himself was from Chicago, had made his overtures of peace with DeAngelo.


Somewhere about eleven o’clock, the dark Lincoln drove out of the garage and it could be seen that the butler, Samuel, held the door for a darkly dressed Maria as she entered the limo. Maria waited until Samuel fastened her seatbelt then she pulled her dark fur wrap about her. “On, Jeeves,” she ordered.

“Now let’s not get smart-assed back there,” Michael said. “This boat is just cover to get both of us near Sean.”


A few hours before the Guerins had departed, four pickups drove up to the La Luz campgrounds. The word campgrounds was a hangover from times past. No to the north. City recreation areas were unlocked after night fall. If Dead Horse Canyon had been given city recognition, it too would have been locked. Too many of the city fathers had had their first taste of love and of beer, many times at the same time, to want to close it off. Emilio had been assured that the locks would be open when he arrived. Alex had made a sizable contribution to the police relief fund to assure this. The Open Space Patrol was under the police department.

Each pickup held two horses. The moon was still high so the ride was pleasurable. It would have set by the time they were ready to go home. If it was too dark, Emilio and his primos would find a quiet arroyo and have their own beer bust. They could thank the development of soft sided portable coolers made into saddle packs.


The last group to get organized was DeAngelo and Sully O’Sullivan. “We want to give Ms. Guerin time to settle family business before we horn into the party. Sully said. Their only argument was which limo to take. Finally, a game of rock, paper, scissors decided the transportation. They both were driving Caddie limos so except for bragging rights, it didn’t matter. Four soldiers, two drivers and the two mobsters crawled into the limo and headed for the mountains.


Four squad cars, with four officers per car drove into the parking lot of the Country Kettle restaurant. The cars were parked under the lot lights and the sixteen men entered the restaurant. They were shown to one of the party rooms, which over-looked the parking lot where they could keep an eye on their vehicles. Coffee pots, a half dozen iced teas and a platter of munchies were brought in. One of the waiters quietly showed Kyle the location of the back door. They could be at their squad cars in seconds if the alarm went off. Now they just waited for word from Alex. Everything was set.
Stories by Ken
Good teachers are born that way, not made. No! Good human beings, are born that way. Some of them become teachers.

Of course, life is not fair. You shouldn't expect it to be fair, but you should expect it to be ironic.
JKR 1981-2001
History is made of wars, recovering from wars and preparing for the next war.
JJR 1975-