Madtown Redux

By Perry Jewell

It has been said one can never go home. The truth is, you can but you will likely be surprised when you get there. And sometimes it takes a bit more work and effort to make it happen. And, odds are, it will involve some pain.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Perry Jewell
• Release date: Jan 12, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463271377

Perry Jewell

Freshly retired quasi tech type looking to indulge a life long dream of being a writer. I've been dabbling for years, ok over 5 decades, and just never had what it took to dedicate myself to the nuts and bolts part of the process. Finding things like agents, editors and publishers never fit in with having to working for a living. Yup, pretty lame excuse but it's all I have left at this point. So I'm just going to grit my teeth and jump in here.

Book preview

Mad Town

Perry Jewell

Copyright 2018 Perry Jewell

Smashworks Edition

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places. And incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 1

I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed the snow and winter until I stepped down on to the tarmac in Madison. It had been better than ten years since I had left home and in all my travels I hadn’t made it back to snow country for a winter. There had been too many Christmases spent in rotting green jungles or blazing dry deserts. Granted, I had volunteered to be there but I had had no urge to go home. My parents had divorced about the time I left and both had remarried and moved on. Two siblings, both older had done likewise to lord only knows where. I felt a sharp pang of regret that we had never really been all that close as a family and none of us had made much of an attempt to keep in touch over the years. We were a family of loners with me being the worst.

As I stood looking over the snow I heard a discreet cough behind me. Without looking I stepped to the side.

First time in the snow?

I glanced over at the speaker. It was the cool elegant type I had noticed getting on the plane in Chicago. I had guessed her as some kind of professional, probably a lawyer from the papers she had taken from her hand tooled briefcase as soon as she had taken her seat. Her clothes were off the rack, a very expensive exclusive rack, and her auburn hair was done up in an intricate coronet braid. She reminded me of a red headed Grace Kelly from To Catch a Thief. What had surprised me were her eyes. They were a pale brown, shading towards the color of old gold coins. They were absolutely stunning in their impact.

Not really. Its more of a homecoming. I said smiling. Her answering smile was more brilliant than the sun on the snow.

Well then, welcome home. I’m Claire Bennings.

Her handshake was firm in spite of the cold. There was a brisk wind out of the northwest buffeting us with dry arctic air. She was bundled in a large fur coat, the collar turned up high around her neck. My black leather coat was half open. I guessed the temperature at about ten degrees with a pretty stiff wind chill taking it well below zero but after the heat and humidity I was used to I was reluctant to zip it up.

Lane Garrison. Do you live in Madison or are you here on business?

I live here. I’m an attorney with the Attorney General’s office. She shivered and clutched her coat tighter. Mr. Garrison, I don’t mean to sound pushy but…

Could we continue this talk in the terminal? Out of this wind? I finished for her.

Yes, please.

We headed for the terminal at a brisk walk. I could feel her glance at me several times during the short trip but she didn’t speak again until we were well inside the terminal and headed for the baggage claim area.

How could you stand that cold with just that light jacket?

I couldn’t. I was just as cold as you.

She looked at me questioningly.

Like I said, this is a homecoming. I’ve been gone a long time and I just didn’t have it in me to notice the cold all that much. And what I did notice was an enjoyable change. Give me a few days and I’ll notice it right away. Right now its too well remembered to be a problem.

You’re a rather eloquent man when you want to be.

I laughed as the carousel rumbled to life.

And out of place here with that tan. May I ask where you got it?

Not at all. I just finished a job in Spain two days ago.

Spain? What kind of job?

Construction. I was the assistant field manager on a road and bridge project down near Cadiz.

My flight bag came by so I hefted it off and set it at my feet.

Which one is yours?

You don’t have to…

I know. Which one?

that blue overnight.

It came over so I picked it off the belt and grabbed my own, slinging the strap over my shoulder.

It really isn’t necessary, you know.

I just smiled. She was watching me again, trying to decide something. I motioned towards the door and she fell in to step beside me.

I’m heading downtown if you don’t have a ride. Could I drop you somewhere?

She hesitated at the doors, studying me with serious eyes then gave me another smile. Lower wattage. Like Mona’s.

The cab was warm and the lady sitting next to me had opened her coat. She was watching me with open curiosity while I watched the passing scenery. Her attention only registered on a small portion of my mind as my thoughts went over, for what seemed the hundredth time since Chicago, what it was going to be like to see my old friends again. I was torn between excitement and apprehension.

Are you always so rude, Mr. Garrison?

I took a slow deep breath and brought my attention back to the inside of the cab. I liked the gently mocking tone in her voice and the mischievous glint in her eyes.

Not usually. I’m afraid I have a lot on my mind.

You must. I haven’t had a man deliberately ignore me since I was twelve.

I can imagine.

You make me wonder if I’ve forgotten my makeup or something.

You could forget your makeup and still turn every eye in a hundred yard range.

She smiled demurely.

I was beginning to wonder if you had noticed.

I laughed and shook my head.

Hardly, Miss Bennings.

Claire, please.

All right, Claire. You’re a lady used to being noticed and appreciated. You know damned well the effect you have on men.

Her smile faltered a second.

Most men. Or should I say members of the male species?

And I’m not?

I don’t know. Yet. You seem different somehow.

How different?

She put her finger to her lips and those golden eyes watched me closely. Meeting those eyes was both easy and difficult. Easy because she was very beautiful. Difficult because there was something behind them that kept trying to reach out to me. The mood shifted as they grabbed hold and suddenly the inside of the cab became too close. We both felt it. Luckily we were pulling up to the Capitol and the cabbie said as much. He stopped and went to get her bag. Claire took a slow deep breath then blinked rapidly bringing the lady attorney back.

A strange man.

She quickly got out of the cab then leaned back in the open door.

You intrigue the hell out of me, Garrison. I’m going to be a brazen hussy and ask when I’m going to see you again.

I caught a hint of a question that she wasn’t used to asking.

I’ll be busy for a few days. How about after Christmas?

She smiled and shook her head.

And I suppose there’s no way I can get in touch with you.

Try the Villa Roma. Lew Apollaro will be able to get a message to me.

Her eyes met mine and the rapport flared briefly.

I’m in the book.

Chapter 2

I paid the cabbie and stood on the snowy sidewalk outside the Villa Roma. It hadn’t changed. The windowless white walls were still covered in posters and graffiti. Different from the SDS slogans I remembered but in the same general vein. The place was only a couple of blocks off campus and still an open wall political forum. I remembered it for its excellent cheap Italian food. For a struggling underclassman it was always a treat to come down to the Villa and pig out on pasta and dago red. Old Tony Apollaro, Lew’s dad, had been generous.

Old Tony. Short, fat balding patriarch from the old country. He had a voice like a gator’s bellow and a damn hard hand. I had bussed tables for him for pocket money my one semester at the U. It was where I had met Lew when he came back on leave to visit. He was a few years older than me but I had a season of charter boat crewing down in Florida under my belt and the wander itch growing. That one semester had been all my budget could handle and I really had no idea what I was doing in college so I had enlisted one step ahead of the draft board. I had gone Sea Bee so I had spent the prerequisite time in Ho’s paradise but things were winding down by the time I got there. I had run into Lew again there. He was a seasoned second lieutenant running the Quartermaster group at the base I was attached to for over six months. We both managed to make it through our tour in country. After Lew rotated out I was working on an airstrip near Cam Loc when word had reached me about Tony. By that time he had been in the ground almost two weeks. I sent my regrets and got an open invitation to visit whenever I was in town.

The front door was still locked so I walked around back. The kitchen was open for deliveries so I went in. The smells of garlic and tomato wrapped around me like an old friend’s hug bringing back memories of dirty dishes and late nights with old Tony pushing us hard in that gravely voice. I set my bag in a corner and headed for the double swinging doors that led to the restaurant proper. The cooks gave me a quizzical look so I smiled and waved. Beyond the doors I could hear a heated discussion with a familiar growling tone. I swung the door open quietly and looked inside. At the bar a short man was waving his arms as he yelled at a trim young man in a suit. I gathered he worked for a liquor distributor and his company hadn’t come through with a part of a promised order. Lew was heavier than I remembered but four years of running an Italian restaurant can sometimes do that to a person. As I walked up behind Lew I could hear the salesman’s pitch and I could see why Lew was angry.

Listen, I’ve got other customers who had their orders in first. I can’t just arbitrarily decide who gets what. The computer lays out the schedule and there isn’t anything I can do about it.

You know what you can do with your computer. Villa Roma has been buying from Abco for almost twenty years. When I ask for an order and you say you can do it, I want it done. I don’t want excuses.

We do the best we can. I can see if there’s…

Lew made a disgusted sound and waved the man off.

Excuse me. Mr. Apollaro, I don’t like interrupting but I couldn’t help hearing the discussion and I think I can help you.

Lew turned like a cat and glared at me, a hot reply on his lips. When he recognized me his eyes narrowed a touch and a hint of a grin touched his mouth.

Yes, Mr.?

Wayne, Jonathan Wayne. I took out my wallet and handed him one of the various business cards I had collected over the years. Lew palmed it in his big hand so the salesman couldn’t see it.

I represent a distributor who is new to the Madison area. We cater to the specialty restaurants over in the Fox Valley and we’ve been expanding down the 151 corridor. I can safely guarantee we can supply you with the best in liquors and wines at fair prices. We’ve been working with some of the finest restaurants and we know how to deliver the products you need, when you need them. We are a family owned business and we believe in keeping relations with our customers on a personal basis. Computers are great organizers but they’re not very good at dealing with problems. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Apollaro?

All during my pitch, the other salesman had tried to hide his growing discomfort. He craned his neck trying to read my card but Lew kept it well hidden.

Yeah, I like it. How soon can you get me what I need?

Lew, there’s no reason to go to another distributor. The salesman put in anxiously. We can get the rest of your order by this afternoon.

Lew gave the clown his best withering glare.

What about your computer?

I’ll find a way to work around it. Please, Lew. Give me a chance to see what I can do before you make a decision.

Lew thought for a minute. How he could keep that black glare on his face was beyond me. It was all I could do to keep from laughing. I thought the poor guy was going to cry when Lew relented.

Alright. You get until 2 to get this mess straightened out. You get one more chance. Screw it up and I’ll go with Wayne here. Now go get me my product.

The salesman pumped Lew’s hand, his feet already shuffling towards the door.

You won’t regret this Lew. Abco will take care of you.

It damn well better.

Lew waited until the door swung shut before his face split in a grin and he grabbed me up in a bear hug.

Lane, you old pirate, how the hell are you? Damn, it’s good to see you.

He let me loose but kept his hands on my shoulders.

John Wayne. For Christ’s sake, you couldn’t come up with something more original? I don’t believe the putz bought it. Well, dammit, don’t you have anything to say?

I would if you’d shut up for a second.

"So talk. What the hell brings you to Madison? Without a