We found that not only was there a fence around the building’s rear, it also surrounded the rear parking lot. We couldn’t even drive up and scope it out. But fortunately for us the bag in the rear of the SUV was equipped with a hell of a nice Zeiss spotter scope. With the scope anchored to the dash, I found out that the walk in door had only a pad lock. The overhead door must have had a wireless remote since there was no lock visible.
Also I noticed that there was a camera aimed at the door. Then I saw a small sign on the door. It wasn’t easy but I read the sign illuminated by the outdoor light, that was there for the camera. The sign read, ‘property of the U.S. Border Patrol’. The sign also held the usual warnings against entry and the amount of jail time one could accrue by ignoring it.
“Well that answers the questions I had, I guess.” I said.
“When a woman says I guess that way, it usually means, I still have questions,” Tom said.
“Well, why would the border patrol need a storage facility. The night club was probably here first, since I can’t see them allowing a night club to close off part of a warehouse. So, if it was here first, why the hell would they chose a place next to a night club?” I asked. “There are a hundred warehouse like this one empty due to the recession.”
“Just for the sake of argument, let’s say that it is not really the border patrol. Then who would want to be behind a night club?” Tom asked.
“Well someone who didn’t care about the later hours and the noise.” I said. “You know what? Let’s forget this and just swing by during the daylight hours, We have a lot of time before the show tomorrow, since we did our recon today,”
“Sounds like a plan, now can we get back to plan A?” he asked.
“And plan A was?” I asked.
“Go back to the motel and fuck,” he said.
“Oh yeah,” I said grinning.
We went back to the motel. Tom continued to play daddy. That night we had straight vaginal intercourse and Tom as adequate. He also didn’t take it personal that I masturbated to have the orgasm he couldn’t provide.
I took the small bed in the living room combo, since I left first in the mornings. It was 6AM when my mental clock went off the next morning. The sun rose early so it was fairly bright, even that early in the morning. I checked the watch I had clipped to the waist band of my running pants. It was 6;10 and already hot. I figured it was time to start running in shorts. That one hour made a lot of difference, Unfortunately I didn’t have any shorts, so I ran till I was covered with sweat, big time. It was a little after 7AM, when I opened the door to the suite.
I had the cereal in the bowl and the hot milk in the cup with the power that never quite completely dissolved. I also had my orange juice. I tried to eat well on the road so I wouldn’t become ill.
“Nothing like a balanced breakfast,” Tom said as he sipped the coffee I made for him, and bit into the cinnamon bun, we pickup up in the convenience store.
“You want some of my cereal?” I asked.
“No, I want to go to a restaurant for breakfast,” he said.
“Why didn’t you say so,” I said. I’ll be happy to stop for breakfast anytime you want.”
“I really don’t want to stop for breakfast. The bun and coffee is all I would have at home. Just watching you eat reminds me how I have let myself go.” Tom said.
“Well a good start would be a glass of orange juice,” I said. “There is enough left in the cooler,” I explained.
“Why not the longest trip begins with the first mile,” he said.
True,” I agreed. Yes I recognized the old saying that he had attempted to improve. “So I’ll take a shower and get the smell of running off me, We can go take a look at the Border Patrol Building in the daylight.”
“You do know we aren’t being paid to involve ourselves with the contents of that building?” Tom asked.
“Of course I do, but I have been on the road with these idiots for a month, more or less, and I’m bored silly. It isn’t much fun driving between towns and appearing to be a competent body guard. A body guard for people only an idiot would want to harm.” I added.
“So you are telling me you are bored,” Tom said.
“Yes, I know this is all new to you. If you like you can stay here and watch daytime TV, or I can drop you in a mall to go shopping. I shouldn’t be more than an hour,” I said.
“No, I’ll ride along to keep you out of trouble. If you promise to remember, sometimes a dick is just a dick,” he said.
“Okay, I’ll remember that,” I said shaking my head. Surely he knows those are all screwed up interpretations of well known saying, I thought.
I was proud of myself, because I remembered how to get back to the night club with something else going on behind the fake wall. Something that wouldn’t be bothered by the loud music of a night club. Something that needed a new chain link fence and a sign that said border patrol and a surveillance camera focused on the door.
When we arrived, there was still no car in the lot and the padlock on the gate was locked. Someone could have parked somewhere else and walked in, I thought. Why would they do that. They wouldn’t of course.
“We need to find the owner, and then find out who rents the space. I don’t really think it is the border patrol,” I said.
“Okay, call the register of deeds,” Tom suggested.
“Let’s find a hot spot and try to Google it first,” I suggested. “With all the money Washington has been throwing at the cities to hire people, they just might have put the files on line. It was a job they could count, and when the money ran out for it there would be a stink because some one lost there job because of it. It was just a matter of did Miami use the money like a lot of cities did,
“Here we go,” I said out loud when I found the address and the owner’s name. “It is owned by a realty holding company.” A quick search of the white pages gave me the phone number.
“Hi there, I represent SD enterprises and we are interested in the property at 22 industrial park ave.” I said. A fancy address for a bunch of run down metal buildings.
“I’m sorry that property is already rented,” the agent said.
“We rode by yesterday and it was perfect. Maybe I could persuade the lessee to do a sublet of part of it?” I asked.
“You could try, I guess. The lessee is the night club there. The owner has an office in the club. You probably could find him there later.” She said.
“Thank you so much,” I said. “Is the club the only lessee?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Thank you very much,” I said.
I drove to a waffle house. “You didn’t have to do this for me,” he insisted.
“Why not I hate that fucking car. Drink your coffee and have breakfast,” I insisted.
Tom ordered breakfast and I ordered hot chocolate. When it came it tasted like real hot chocolate. Not powdered crap or heated chocolate milk. When the waitress passed I asked, “Is the recipe for the hot chocolate a secret?”
“You know, you are about the thousandth person who has asked me that,” she said.
“The secret is whole milk, and part of a Hershey chocolate bar,” she said. “There is enough sugar in one of those so that we don’t have to add anything else.”
“Holy shit how simple is that?” I asked.
“So after I finish my eggs, we can go buy you a teapot for the car.” Tom suggested.
And a case of Hershey bars,” I said.
At 2PM there was finally a car in the club parking lot. Actually there were three of them. I parked the SUV and slipped the canvas holster with the .38 into my cargo pants. I was tooled up except for the Glock, which I didn’t carry. Tom had his own .38 in an inside the waist band holster. It was the kind cops were so fond of wearing.
“You ready?” I asked.
“I’m ready, remember sometime a dick is just a cigar,” he said smiling.
I knocked on the door. The man who came to answer my second know said, “We don’t open to seven and we ain’t buying nothing.”
“We ain’t selling nothing.” I said. “We are buyers, aren’t we Tom,” I ask turning to him.
“Yes ma’am we are definitely buyers,” he said.
“Are you cops?” he asked.
“Are we cops?” I asked Tom.
“No, we are definitely not cops,” Tom said to me.
“Not cops,” I said. “We might be the real border patrol though.”
“Yes we could be the border patrol,” Tom added.
“Since we might be the border patrol and that might be a border patrol warehouse attached to the shitty night club, we might go cut the locks off the building and just see what is in our warehouse,” I said. “Or your boss could convince us that the sign is just a joke.”
“Hold on,” the thug type guy said.
“You the border patrol,” the man asked. “Let me see you ID cards.”
“I never really said we were border patrol. I said we weren’t cops, but we might be the border patrol. Then again we might not be.” I said.
He looked at Tom and said, “Is she crazy.”
“I don’t know, do you think she is crazy?” Tom asked.
“What the fuck is this Garza’s idea of a joke.” he asked.
“I don’t think so, since I never met the man. This is the City of Miami’s idea of a joke though. I’m here for the city.” I said. “Your liquor license is for a night club. I need to make sure that the storage facility behind you is not a health hazard. Since we both know the Border Patrol doesn’t own it. We came to you.”
“Wait right here,” the club manager said.
“Do you think I should have worn a suit?” Tom asked.
“No, at least you aren’t in faded jeans,” I said.
“I know, but you are,” Tom replied.
“We might want to keep a hand off the weapons, this might have just gone rank.” I said it as the police cruiser pulled into the lot. It took us an hour to clear it up. I simply explained a gang banger told us there was a warehouse full of weapons behind the night club and they were going to deliver them to a member of the Soda’s crew. I simply wanted to be sure they weren’t full of shit before I wasted a cop’s time. It was a weak story but I was pretty sure it interested the cops. All they had to do was explain the border patrol sign and security camera and we would be out of there.
The patrolman asked the club owner to look in the warehouse. The club owner got defensive so I shrugged.
“I’ll tell you what ma’am you didn’t break any law by asking the man questions and you didn’t impersonate anyone, that they can prove so be on you way and sin no more. Call it professional courtesy and we’ll talk to the detectives. Meanwhile be very careful at the show. If that gang banger shit is really true.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “By the way officer where is the nearest Walmart. I need a coffee pot and a pair of running shorts. Oh, I also think they are smuggling illegal aliens through the back.”
He shook his head, but he also gave me directions.