'That'll Be The Day' (Chapter 3)
Serialized Crime Fiction: A Power Pop Heist
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 (THE END)
That’ll Be The Day: A Power Pop Heist
by S.W. Lauden
Chapter 3
“Starry Eyes” by The Records blared from the stereo of Jamie’s pickup truck. He’d owned the 1999 Ford Ranger SuperCab with the shell on the back for twenty years. It was the only significant purchase Jamie & The Jaxx made after signing with a local indie label called Present Tense Records. The recording advance was small, but enough for a down payment on what became their touring vehicle.
These days, every piece of plastic in the interior was cracked and the roof liner sagged like a sad circus tent. Jack glanced at the dashboard.
“Jesus. Two hundred and sixty thousand miles? Surprised this thing still runs.”
“It’s way more than that. Odometer broke a couple of years ago.”
They pulled up to Jamie’s house. Jack climbed out the passenger door, eyes scanning the plastic tarp pinned to the roof with bricks. The place was no palace when Jamie and Wendy first bought it five years ago, but these days it looked like it had been through a tornado. Or two. They cut across the dead lawn to the front door, Jack careful to stay a couple of steps behind his brother.
Jamie stopped on the porch. “Wendy has nothing to do with any of this. She doesn’t even know you got out.”
“So?”
“Don’t go waving your gun around inside.”
“Just get me the money and I’ll be on my way.”
Jamie sighed and swung the door open. “I’m serious, Jack. Keep the gun out of sight. And no smoking.”
“What?”
The interior of the house was in slightly better shape than the exterior. Most of the furniture was the same as the last time Jack was there. He noticed a couple of battered acoustic guitars on stands beside the couch.
“You still play?”
“You know it. How about you? They have any guitars up in that prison?”
Jack shrugged. “Never bothered to ask.”
“Too bad. You’re one of the best guitarists I ever heard.”
“Ancient history. You still play gigs?”
“I actually have a couple solo shows coming up. It’s just me and a guitar, but still fun to shake the rust off every once in a while. Of course, there isn’t much time for that these days.”
Jamie nodded to the other side of the room. A playpen took up most of the opposite corner. Jack wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“Wendy running some kind of day care for extra cash?”
Jamie didn’t have to answer. His wife stepped out of the kitchen with a baby on her hip. It was coming up on noon, but she still wore a bathrobe and slippers. Her kinky red hair was going gray around the temples. Jack could still see the teenage girl who came to every Jamie & The Jaxx show they ever played in Oklahoma. Her lightly freckled face lit up when she spotted Jack.
“Look what the cat dragged in.”
Jack smiled back, trying to mask his confusion.
“Cute kid.”
She took the baby’s hand, making him wave.
“Thanks. This is J.J. Can you say hi to your uncle Jack?”
Jack shot his brother a glance. “That’s your son?”
“Yep. Little Jamie Junior. Hard to believe he’s almost a year old.”
Jamie went over to scoop the baby up. He strolled over to Jack, hoisting the kid up to eye level. “Remind you of anybody?”
The only baby Jack ever held was the one he helped raise after his father split—their baby sister, Jenna. With their mom working two jobs to pay rent, keeping their little sister fed, clean and alive fell to Jack. He got her ready for school in the morning, made her dinner at night and read her bedtime stories when the rest of his friends were out goofing around. He drove her to cheerleading practice in high school, picked her up the morning after slumber parties and beat up the boys that made her cry. Jack moved her into the dorms at Oklahoma State, and helped her find an apartment when she landed a good paying job in Chicago. Jack was who Jenna called when she came out of the closet and moved in with her first girlfriend.
But that was then. They hadn’t spoken since the night he got arrested for stealing those guitars. Three years in prison and she never once wrote, called or came to visit. Jack spent plenty of time wondering what he did to drive her away. Jenna had to have known he was a criminal, since the only real job he ever had was playing guitar in Jamie & The Jaxx. Turns out it’s hard to make a good living without a high school diploma. And it’s hard to show up for class when you have to step in for your deadbeat dad. One more reason for that trip to Milwaukee.
Jack suddenly remembered the gun in his jacket pocket. He jumped back.
“Congrats, you two.”
Wendy went into the kitchen to make coffee. Jack and Jamie spread out in the living room. The baby bounced in his father’s lap on the couch.
Jack leaned back on the recliner, arms folded. “I’m happy for you and Wendy, but that doesn’t change why I’m here.”
“I know, I know. I had my reasons.” Jamie kept his eyes on the kid.
Jack gnashed his teeth and waited for the excuse. Jamie thought of himself as a storyteller, so he always had an elaborate explanation for his screwups. It’s what made him such a great songwriter, back when music seemed like their one-way ticket out of Tulsa. Jack tried to quit the band several times during his twenties and early thirties, but Jamie somehow convinced him to stay. There was always one more gig to play, another song to record, an endless line of record label people to impress. And now here they were a decade later with nothing to show for all those wasted hours in rehearsal studios and half-empty clubs.
“This better be good, Jamie, or I swear to god I’ll blow your fucking head off.”
“I gave the money to Jenna.”
That caught Jack off guard. “Why even involve her in this?”
“She had medical bills piling up and I wanted to help.”
“What kind of medical bills?”
“Cancer. I would have given her my own money, but then Wendy got pregnant and business died down. I already mortgaged the house to save the store. Now I’m about to lose both.”
Jack’s stomach sank. Jenna? Cancer? “Jesus. Is Jenna alright?”
“She’s swimming in debt. Seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”
Jack brought his hands up to his face. If his brother had given his fifty grand to anybody else—any other person on the planet—Jack would be justified in snapping his neck. But Jenna? Putting their little sister first was the one thing they’d always agreed on.
“Fuck, Jamie. I had big plans for that money.”
Wendy came in with two steaming mugs. She set them down on the coffee table between Jamie and Jack. The baby reached for his mother the moment she came into view.
“Smells like somebody needs a change. Let’s go get you cleaned up, baby boy.”
Jack watched until Wendy was gone before bringing his attention back to Jamie.
“No more fucking around. How much money you got here?”
Jamie laughed. It wasn’t reassuring.
“This place look like Fort Knox to you?”
Jack went for his revolver, but Jamie waved him off.
“Thing is, I think I know how we can get your money back.”
“From where? The hospital?”
“No. From some rich asshole in Memphis.”
That'll Be The Day: A Power Pop Heist
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 (THE END)
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Both That’ll Be The Day: A Power Pop Heist and the sequel, Good Girls Don’t: A Second Power Pop Heist, are available in print and ebook formats on Amazon.
