'That'll Be The Day' (Chapter 8)
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 8
Memphis, Tennessee. Home of the blues, as well as Graceland, Beale Street, Sun Studios, Stax Records and Ardent Studios—to name but a few. Jamie & The Jaxx must have played there twenty times over the years. Some of the best gigs of their failed career as far as Jack was concerned. He wrote the momentary nostalgia off to sleep deprivation as they pulled up outside a run-down greasy spoon.
Jamie threw the car into park, his door swinging open.
“Listen, Jack. Chaz isn’t really the same guy he was back in the band. Probably best to let him do most of the talking.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jamie’s jaw got tight. “It means that if you pull a stunt like you did back in Austin we’ll be in deep shit. The people he’s connected with these days are pretty serious.”
“I’m the one who’s fresh out of prison. Pretty sure I can handle myself.”
“Never said you couldn’t. Just try not to get us killed.”
They wound through the parking lot and into the restaurant. The sound of Frank Stokes’s “Downtown Blues” greeted them as they entered. The place smelled of brown gravy and hardboiled eggs. Chaz was the only other customer, seated at the booth furthest from the door. He stared the Sharp brothers down with a toothy grin.
“Son of a bitch. You two still look the same. I mean, there’s a little wear and tear, don’t get me wrong, but you’re doing pretty damned good all things considered.”
Jack wished he could say the same for their old drummer. His once skinny frame had filled out with the kind of flabby muscle favored by plumbers and bikers. The overhead lights reflected off his shaved head. His baggy suit gave off a serious “high school gym teacher on his way to Sunday services” vibe.
Chaz motioned to the bench across from him. “Have a seat. How long’s it been since the three of us were together?”
Jamie and Jack squeezed in. Jack focused on his menu, letting Jamie handle the small talk.
“Time flies.”
“No shit, man. I can’t believe I’ve been living in Memphis for a decade already. Moving here changed my life. No telling how I would’ve ended up if I’d stayed in Tulsa. Probably dead or…” Chaz let his sentence trail off.
Jack’s eyes flicked up. “Or in prison?”
Chaz shot daggers at Jack. “Wasn’t what I was gonna say, but since we’re on the subject—when’d you get out?”
“None of your business.”
“Bet a pretty boy like you was popular inside.”
Jack shook his head in disappointment. “Still a homophobe, huh? That’s pretty pathetic, Chaz. Even for you.”
“Calm down, Mr. PC. I’m just giving you shit.”
Jack’s eyes dropped back down to the menu. “Whatever. What’s good here?”
“Damn near everything, but steer clear of the greens unless you want to spend your afternoon on the toilet.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
The waiter came over to pour their coffee. Jack ordered a beer to go with his. That got a chuckle from Chaz.
“Still living the life, huh? Impressive. Hey, I wanted to ask, whatever happened to our old rehearsal studio? I miss that terrible carpet cave sometimes.”
Jack was about to cut the trip down memory lane short when Jamie spoke up.
“They tore that whole building down. Put in a Dollar General a few years ago. So, is everything still looking good with our arrangement?”
Chaz stirred cream into his coffee with a bent spoon.
“Damn, Jamie. That’s what I always liked about you. No messing around, just straight to the action. No wonder you used to fuck so many groupies back in the day. How’s Wendy doing, anyway?”
Jamie almost spit out his coffee, but quickly recovered.
“She’s good. Our son’s about a year old now, so the pressure’s on to bring home the bacon. If you know what I mean.”
“That’s why I fly solo. Hookers are a lot cheaper than wives and kids.”
The waiter brought Jack’s beer and took their breakfast orders. Fried catfish, scrambled eggs and grits all around. Chaz waited until the waiter was gone before talking business. He leaned in to whisper at Jamie.
“You got the cash with you?”
“Out in the truck. You wanna do the transaction right here?”
“Definitely not. Just making sure you two are serious.”
“Like a heart attack.”
“Good, because he’s moving the item tonight. That’s your best shot to snag it, but it won’t be easy. You guys have guns, right?”
Jack couldn’t resist busting his brother’s chops. “One of us does.”
Chaz leaned back with a disappointed sigh.
“Are you two a couple of amateurs? In case you forgot, I’m putting my ass on the line for you here. Maybe we should just forget the whole thing.”
Jamie sputtered to recover, leaving Jack to respond.
“Take it easy. My brother thought this might be a simple break-in. That’s all.”
Chaz gave Jack a sideways glance, erupting with laughter.
“Holy shit, Jack. This is just like old times; you stepping in to save your little brother’s ass. Some things never change.”
Jamie and Jack kept their lips buttoned tight. There was still no telling which direction this situation might go. It took Chaz a full minute to catch his breath. He wiped his eyes with a paper napkin and blew his nose.
“Okay, listen. I can get you another piece, because you’re definitely going to need it. Where are you two staying?”
Jack shrugged the question off. “We came straight here from the highway. Still need to find a place.”
“Good. There’s a roach motel out by the airport called the The Tennessee Inn. Get a room there and lay low. Best for you guys not to show your faces around town before tonight.”
“Why’s that? We don’t know anybody in Memphis besides you.”
“Believe it or not there are still a few people who remember Jamie & The Jaxx. It even got me laid once or twice.”
Chaz waited for some kind of response—a high five maybe?—but carried on once he realized the Sharp brothers didn’t give a shit about his sex life.
“I’ll bring you the gun and the rest of the info tonight. You can pay me then. But make sure you’re ready to go. You’ll only get one shot to pull this off.”
They stocked up on junk food and cigarettes at a gas station before heading toward the airport. Jamie’s pickup was the lone vehicle in the motel parking lot. They paid in cash and headed to their room.
The first couple of hours went by in a blink, but they were both going a little stir crazy by sunset. Jack was sprawled out on one bed while Jamie sat cross-legged on the other. All eyes were on the TV mounted to the opposite wall. Planes rumbled by overhead every fifteen minutes, shaking the building down to the studs.
Jack felt like he was sitting inside an amplifier turned up to ten.
“Still can’t believe you let him talk about Wendy like that.”
Jamie shook his head and grabbed the TV remote. He flipped to the menu and scrolled down for the millionth time.
“I already told you, I had no choice. We need him to pull this job off. Besides, who cares what that fat fuck thinks anyway?”
“I would’ve taught him some manners if it was my wife.”
“Well, Wendy’s not your wife, so I guess you don’t have to worry about it.”
Jamie stopped scrolling when he saw VH1 was showing Behind The Music Remastered. He hit select, groaning when he realized the episode was about ‘90s girl group TLC and not one of his beloved pop rock bands.
Jack rolled his eyes. “You expecting The Monkees or something?”
"The Monkees episode of Behind The Music was great. I know people still love to hate on them, but they made some great records.”
“Probably more accurate to say The Wrecking Crew made some great Monkees records.”
“That was totally normal back then. Anyway, they started writing and recording some of their own stuff for Headquarters.”
“All I’m saying is other people wrote and recorded their best songs.”
“You high? ‘Randy Scouse Git’ is amazing. That one was all Mickey Dolenz.”
“Whatever. I’ll take ‘Steppin’ Stone' over any of that wannabe psychedelic shit they released later on.”
Somebody started pounding on the door and Jack jumped up to grab the gun from his jacket. He retreated to the dark bathroom while Jamie stared him down.
“What the hell are you doing? You know it’s Chaz.”
“I know. Open the door slowly.”
“Whatever you say, tough guy. Prison really made you paranoid, huh?”
More pounding. Jamie opened up to let Chaz in. His head was beaded with sweat as he surveyed their modest accommodations.
“God, what a dump. Reminds me of some of the places we used to stay on tour. Where’s your brother?”
Jack stepped out from the darkened bathroom. Chaz took a step back.
“What the hell is this, some kind of ambush?”
“You can never be too careful.”
Chaz grinned. “You always were an intense son of a bitch, Jack. But that’s good, because you’re going up against a couple of mean bastards tonight. I know because I’m the one who hired them. Now where’s my money?”
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)
Can’t Wait For The Next Chapter?
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 format on Amazon.
LIKING THE BOOK? PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW! Amazon, Goodreads—wherever you buy books. Even ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ and a few words would help A LOT.
