Parking Lots And Trailers

Stratham, New Hampshire

It's Saturday morning, and getting light out. Ron Strier was enjoying a cup of iced coffee goodness from that donut chain that is everywhere in New England. A few years ago, his doctor told him that the Lifers juice he enjoyed was a little too rough on his stomach, so he became an iced man. It's not bad.

Old habits, particularly for older Marines, are always present. There are not too many days when Ron Strier didn't see the dawn bust out.  A whole day off from work is not an excuse that would shake an old Marine from ever readiness. As Ron took that second sip, an obvious rental car with New York plates pulled into the parking lot.  The vehicle went straight for the far side of the lot near the dumpster, and the driver backed it into a spot.

The headlights shut off then nothing happened.

Nobody got out of the car. It sat in the darkness.

Even a non-cop would start ticking off the possibilities. 

Ron started calculating. Were these kids smooching in a dark parking lot? Was someone waiting for someone else to have coffee? Was the driver a drug dealer waiting for a connection? Divorced couples living far from each other often do a "kid handoff" at a halfway point spot. Were they waiting for Mom or Dad? Was this someone who took himself off the road to snooze or make a call?

Two ingrained parts of Ron's DNA tingled. Marines are never off the job, and neither are cops.

Ron slid a little lower into his seat and decided to stay to see which option would win.

He cracked his window an inch and took in the cool air, never taking his eyes off the rental car.  

Strier looked at his watch and saw the time would be on half-hour in three minutes.  Three minutes later another rental with New York plates pulled into the parking lot. 

That car stopped for about 10 seconds and then headed for the other car parked on the back side of the lot. Ron saw two individuals in the second car as it passed his truck.

Is this a pre-determined meeting for the half hour?

Okay, interesting but not yet criminal enough for Ron to stop sipping his coffee.

The cop's senses tingled when the two cars parked from the driver's side window to the driver's side window. It's the only way for two drivers to lower their windows and chat without getting loud. 

This was looking like a drug transfer.

The second vehicle's interior lights went on, and the doors opened on the driver's and passenger's sides.

Two men stepped out and walked toward the doors of the coffee shop. 

Strier got a very good look at them in the low light of dawn.

The two were Asian and in their early thirties.

In Strier's opinion, they acted "military." They moved purposefully like soldiers, even while smoking and joking, as they headed for the donut shop. There was nothing soft about them except their civilian clothes.

The person in the other car stayed there.

Ron turned all of this over in his mind. What was unusual about this situation that had him on edge?

He tried to turn the cop "OFF" for a minute. There was nothing wrong with two cars of military-age Asians meeting off the highway in the parking lot of a donut shop.  But why two vehicles? Three travelers could fit in one car. Then there was the window-to-window thing and the pre-arranged meeting time. It bugged him more, and he thought about getting on the walkie-talkie and talking with his desk supervisor. He held back on that.

A few minutes later, the two men emerged from the store carrying a couple of bags and three cups of what looked like coffee. There was still nothing wrong with that.

They approached the two cars, and someone stepped out of the first car. Ron looked hard over the top of his dashboard. A woman drove the first car. 

The three stood outside the two parked cars, speaking with each other and drinking coffee. Strier laughed as he thought he was a member of the Loyal Order Of Police officers, and he could not tell if they were eating donuts or something else.

Is this glorious day off about to become a workday for him? Something happened that made his mind up.

The woman went to the driver's side of the first car, got in, and started the engine. 

The two others stepped aside as the car went around the lot and returned, pulling into the same spot.

The cars were now parked head first - trunk to trunk.

The addition in Ron's head started speeding up to the conclusion of "no day off," and he muttered an "Oh Fuck" to himself.

The two trunks were opened, and all three stood over the trunk of the car that arrived first; seconds later, the three were transferring the contents of that car to the other. 

Ron watched and saw what looked like hard rifle cases, a few pistol-sized cases, and some hard cases that could have carried anything.

​Still, this was not verified criminal activity. It could have been an exchange of goods that someone was selling, and this was where they chose to meet. Those goods could be anything.

Strier would stick around to see how this would develop.

As he looked over his dashboard, he took another sip.  Ooorah.

Somewhere On The New England Coast

Most people have a leg or chest day in their week's routine, and I do have that. The Marine Corps instills in a person an obligation to stay in shape because we NEVER stop being Marines.

Because of my job's real-life or death possibilities, I have to put an extra frosting on my workouts, including rangework.

Tango and I are running a route that roughly follows the coast. Parts of the route wind tight with curves, so staying right near the water could be a deadly mistake. There is no sense in getting run over by a texter or someone wrestling with a coffee or bagel while they drive.We hit some side roads and woke up all the neighborhood dogs.

TXT EVE: Hey I'm circling back with you about a commission if I find you a case. What's our deal on that?
TXT ALLSTON: Oh the Missing Muffin Case?
TXT EVE: What? You don't like cases about baked goods?

We have inclines that are good for cardio and some long flats that are a walk in the park. Coast running is the best for sights, smells, and workouts.

After coffee the next part of the day is an hour of gym work. Tango stays in the truck eating donut holes while I take care of that business.

 In my line of work, it pays to either move away from a situation or move toward it faster than in the civilian world. A mere second or two can make a difference.

Gym work forces muscles not to atrophy and to be able to withstand the ballistic shocks that potentially getting shot or punched causes. These are two very real hazards of daily life when you go around disrupting bad people from doing bad things.

In the past three years, I have built my business with a specialty—corporate crime.  

When you disrupt wholesale criminal activities that cross many corporations or industries, you risk encountering blowback from the individuals you are disrupting, organized crime syndicates, or even governments, including our own. 

Some of my recent cases involved the pharmaceutical industry or Big Pharma, Another focussed on smuggling activities at a few transportation companies. One case involved shipments of arms. 

There has been no shortage of work for me.  I get paid very well for inserting myself into companies at a branch or the headquarters level. And I have an expense cost for everything: lunches, daily coffee, hotels, transportation cost and a very healthy daily rate.  I'm not cheap.

A case like Sophie Tanner's ended up in my wheelhouse based on a referral from my friend Ron Strier. The case was interesting and is not completely over. I have to keep my eyes wide open and expect some pushback.

I have tried to reinforce to Eve that there will always be potential trouble, and she's beginning to understand how that works.

I have to decide on one of two job offers at some point this week.

Natalie On The Road

Natalie made good time on the highway and was surprised at how focused, motivated, and free she felt. L.A. got closer and closer.

She knew how her mother would react but was unsure how Anthony would take things.

She used him, and he used her, which was the end of it as far as she was concerned.

Would he come after her?

Natalie never saw much of the country beyond Ashland, KY. Her life was isolated to her home and the neighbors in the trailer park.

There was division throughout school going as far back as Natalie remembered. Most other mothers and fathers forbid their children to play with Natalie or invite her to their houses for birthday parties, sleepovers, or to hang out.

They all knew that Nat's mom was "that slut in the park that had men friends stay over for money."

Nat did not understand what that meant until she hit eighth grade.

In eighth grade, Janet, a person from outside of the park, became Natalie's friend at school. It was nice for Natalie to have a lunch buddy, and in two years, they became close.

The first time she spent a night at Janet's house, she realized how different her life was in the trailer park with her Mom.

Young Nat and her mom never sat down for dinner.  Natalie was on her own evenings and cooked frozen meals in the microwave while her mom slept off yesterday or was working for today.

Natalie's mom's friends were good to her, and some were taken aback that she was in the house. But they got used to the little girl with the remote control who was always watching the TV in the living room.

If they became regulars, most of them did; they would stop in, slip Nat a few bucks, and entertain her with Dad jokes and riddles.

She got Christmas cards from a few of them, and as Natalie explained, "They were gosh darn nice to me.'

There was never a spot of trouble in all the years.

Janet's parents sat down and had dinner with her. They cooked food together and did the dishes together.

Before dinner, Janet's father explained to her what "saying grace was," Natalie wondered whether the lack of acknowledgment in her house about God and saying thank you for the food was bad.

Mr. Teller was curious about Natalie. Is your father part of your life? Who does the shopping for food?"

As Nat explained how her life worked and what was normal for her, Mr. and Mrs. Teller looked at each other and their daughter.

Mr. Teller prayed for guidance on whether his daughter should be friends with this girl.

Natalie shook these memories off as she waited for the next person to pick her up on the road.

She had a lot to prove once she made it to Los Angeles.

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