Mer was terrified of Pollock and her fear was justified. There were rumours about Pollock's goons viciously attacking his opponents and really, anyone who posed a threat to him.
Maybe we came on too strong with the creep and blew the advantage of secrecy and being able to actively pursue leads and witnesses so we could make a case and the authorities could follow up and ultimately prosecute him.
Now we would have to do this being shadowed by Pollock's crew and even informers on his payroll who would notify him if we got too close to uncovering his crimes.
It was frustrating, but really our own fault for being confrontational and tipping our hand early.
I had the whole day ahead of me to go over the case since Mer went into the cable network studio to conduct an interview with a candidate hoping to run for Mayor in the upcoming civic elections.
I decided the time could be best spent reviewing my notes from interviews I already conducted with politicians and celebrities who frequented the Enigma Club but who were unwilling to testify to crimes they witnessed committed there.
It was tedious work and by noon I was exhausted and irritable and ready to pack it in for the day when my cell buzzed.
I picked up the familiar voice of Trent Micheals whom I knew ever since my days at university.
"Hey Pal, you in the mood for pub fare?"
"Are you kidding―when have I ever turned down a burger and beer lunch?"
"Never when it's my treat," He laughed, "Meet me at Wheat Sheaf Tavern in half an hour."
"And you're serious about buying?" I asked.
"Yeah, make sure you're on time―this might be temporary insanity."
"I'll be there," I chuckled, "I need a break today."
Trent was already seated and chatting up a waitress when I arrived. Some things never change, well, with Trent Michaels anyway.
"Five minutes early!" Trent yelped, "Guess I'm going to have to ante up and pay your way today."
"Did you rob a bank?" I joked.
"No, but you're looking at tthe new feature writer for The Post, " he beamed.
"I'd like to say you're settling down at last, but I see you still have a roaming eye."
"Oh, you mean Lil? She's the girl I've been telling you about―working her way through law school and even working shifts here when she can get away."
"I stand corrected, I smiled, "I guess everyone's got to change sometme, even the great Trent Michaels."
He tipped his glass to me in agreement. I was impressed.
"So, anyone knew in your life, or are you still carrying a torch for Claire?"
"No torch," I said solemnly, "but I am working with a girl. You may know her―Meredith Cassidy"
"Know her? Everyone knows who Meredith Cassidy is―she's the star of cable news."
"Can't disagree with that, but it's more a woking relationship right now."
"Can you tell me what you're working on?"
"Can't do that, Pal, but it's not because of protecting sources. What we're investigating could be dangerous―the less you know, the better."
Trent's smile faded. "Sounds serious, Pal―you sure you want to do this?"
I shrugged, "Not really, but I'm in too far to back out now. "
I realized I dampened the mood. "But for now, let's eat, drink and be merry," I smiled, hoping to make light of things.
"Well, in that case, you can't leave here until you have to go home in a cab―I'm buying and beer is the best restorer of gladness."
"I'll drink to that," I smiled.
We ended up drinking until the supper hour and then we both left our cars in the lot and took cabs home.
I just got back to my house when it began to thunder and lightning.
A perfect night for sleeping, I mused and did just that.
I must have fallen asleep instantly because I was awakened just after 9 pm by the buzzing of my cell.
I picked up to Mer's frantic voice. "Can I come over?" she asked.
"Sure, what's wrong?"
"I'll tell you when I arrive. Put on some coffee―I need it."
A short while later my Ring doorbell notified me she pulled into the driveway.
I met her at the door and before I could say a word, she collapsed into my arms.
I swept her up and carried her to the couch and told her to lay back on a pillow while I got a throw blanket to drape over her.
I could see she was agitated and trembling, so I made her sip from the hot coffee I made and waited until she was calm enough to talk.
"Are you okay now to tell me what happened?"
"She nodded. "Someone fired a shot at my house and the bullet lodged in the front door."
"Oh my God! I exclaimed, "did you get a look at the perp?"
She shook her head. "No, but I know who ordered the shot―one of Pollock's goons was told to send me a message."
I nodded. "No doubt about that. They want to back you off."
"Well, it's not going to work," she hissed defiantly.
"Did you contact the police?"
"I did and they offered to station a cruiser outside my house, but I declined."
"Why did you do that?"
"Because my neighbours are a young couple with a newborn. They don't need this in their lives. I was hoping I could stay here with you until this whole thing dies down."
"Of course, you can," I said, hugging her.
It was then I knew I loved her and wanted to shelter her forever and keep her safe.
