Chapter seven opens from Regis Cahan's perspective. He is talking to his secretary about work and then mentions Ricardo Morales. Cahan was surprised to learn that the normally respectful Morales was rude to his secretary and referred to the pregnant woman using profanity.
Many Cones is a podcast novel based on true crime. The murders inspiring this crime fiction took place 30 miles from Chicago in Northwest Indiana, and captivated the area from the initial brutal crime scene all the way through and beyond discovery of a shockingly bizarre motive.
Regis Cahan watched Ray walk out of the “Fine Time.” Good man, he thought. Regis’ secretary, Gina Drozler, noticed his far away stare. She waited a few brief moments and decided it was time to reclaim his attention. Regis was seated directly across from her. A small table, containing ashtrays and a cantaloupe shaped candle holder, between them. Theirs was beige, although each table sported a different color.
The secretary tilted sideways, like a deadpan clown, waived her hand and said, “Remember me?”
Cahan’s reverie was interrupted by his secretary’s out of focus face and hands. He snapped back to his bearings. “Sorry, I spaced out for a second there.”
He was an imposing man. Tall and well defined. He played handball three times a week to keep the body fat off. For a man too close to fifty, Cahan still caused hearts of all ages to flutter. He had a classic, square jawed face, what appeared to be deep, black eyes and a ready smile. Regis had learned during the sixties and early seventies that long hair, if maintained, made the big girls cry. It looked good on him, as it usually does on men of height.
The secretary returned to her normal posture. She asked, “What were you staring at?”
Regis recentered his attention to her. “I Saw Ray Grandisha leaving. Remember the guy I waved to, when we walked in?”
Gina shook her head. “No. I didn’t see you wave at anyone. I was in front of you. The name sounds familiar, though. Who is he?”
“A cop. I’ve had three or four cases with him.”
“How’d you do?” Gina asked.
Regis puckered and stretched his shoulders slightly. “Won some, lost some.”
A barmaid approached the table and politely asked, “Another Black Jack, Regis?” He said, “Yes, please.” The waitress looked at his companion, without uttering a sound. Gina, mildly put off, said, “One more vodka and Seven-Up, please.”
The waitress dryly said, “Okay honey.”
As the server was leaving, Gina followed her approach to the bar. Then returned her stare to Cahan. “Geez, it’s nice to be remembered. She’s waited on me twenty times and doesn’t know what I drink. She can repeat your Black Jack in her sleep... Are you fucking her?”
Regis chuckled. “No. I’m not. But most of the girls here are very protective of their male patrons. She probably thinks I’m fucking you.”
The secretary giggled softly. “My husband would frown on that. He likes the fact that he’s the only man I’ve ever been with.”
Regis tilted his glass in her direction. “He’s a lucky man to have you. I envy your relationship and your family. And you can type.”
Chapter 7
Regis Cahan watched Ray walk out of the “Fine Time.” Good man, he thought. Regis’ secretary, Gina Drozler, noticed his far away stare. She waited a few brief moments and decided it was time to reclaim his attention. Regis was seated directly across from her. A small table, containing ashtrays and a cantaloupe shaped candle holder, between them. Theirs was beige, although each table sported a different color.
The secretary tilted sideways, like a deadpan clown, waived her hand and said, “Remember me?”
Cahan’s reverie was interrupted by his secretary’s out of focus face and hands. He snapped back to his bearings. “Sorry, I spaced out for a second there.”
He was an imposing man. Tall and well defined. He played handball three times a week to keep the body fat off. For a man too close to fifty, Cahan still caused hearts of all ages to flutter. He had a classic, square jawed face, what appeared to be deep, black eyes and a ready smile. Regis had learned during the sixties and early seventies that long hair, if maintained, made the big girls cry. It looked good on him, as it usually does on men of height.
The secretary returned to her normal posture. She asked, “What were you staring at?”
Regis recentered his attention to her. “I Saw Ray Grandisha leaving. Remember the guy I waved to, when we walked in?”
Gina shook her head. “No. I didn’t see you wave at anyone. I was in front of you. The name sounds familiar, though. Who is he?”
“A cop. I’ve had three or four cases with him.”
“How’d you do?” Gina asked.
Regis puckered and stretched his shoulders slightly. “Won some, lost some.”
A barmaid approached the table and politely asked, “Another Black Jack, Regis?” He said, “Yes, please.” The waitress looked at his companion, without uttering a sound. Gina, mildly put off, said, “One more vodka and Seven-Up, please.”
The waitress dryly said, “Okay honey.”
As the server was leaving, Gina followed her approach to the bar. Then returned her stare to Cahan. “Geez, it’s nice to be remembered. She’s waited on me twenty times and doesn’t know what I drink. She can repeat your Black Jack in her sleep... Are you fucking her?”
Regis chuckled. “No. I’m not. But most of the girls here are very protective of their male patrons. She probably thinks I’m fucking you.”
The secretary giggled softly. “My husband would frown on that. He likes the fact that he’s the only man I’ve ever been with.”
Regis tilted his glass in her direction. “He’s a lucky man to have you. I envy your relationship and your family. And you can type.”
Through another laugh, Gina said, “Look at me, talking to a twice divorced Lothario about family.”
“I guess I just never met the right woman. Too bad you were already taken.”
Gina responded quickly, “Yeah. The way you behave, I would have kicked your ass out right after the honeymoon.”
The waitress brought the drinks. She served Regis first, and then the secretary. Both said, “Thanks.” They spent the next fifteen minutes nursing alcohol and discussing trivial matters. As Gina was finishing her vodka, Regis asked, “What was the name of that kid that missed his appointment today? The paternity. Hispanic kid.”
Gina answered, “Ricardo Morales.” Her conversational demeanor turned wary. “Why are you handling a paternity? You don’t do paternities.”
“Favor for a friend of a friend... He’s a nice kid. If the blood test proves him to be the father, we’ll stipulate to the paternity judgment and get a delayed support order. Delayed until he’s out of high school. If the blood test is negative, he’ll save twenty-one years of monthly payments.
“Does he admit to doodling Little Mary Sunshine?”
Regis laughed. “Yeah. It was all innocent enough. They were out on a date. At the drive in. Things got out of hand.”
Gina smirked and said, “You mean out of pants.”
Cahan grimaced momentarily, then continued, “Things got out of hand. It was consensual all the way. We just want to verify that he’s the father.”
“Why is there a question?”
“It was a first and only date for the two of them.”
Gina smiled and said, “Aah... I should have called her ‘Candy”
Regis bobbed and shook his head at the pseudo humor and continued, “Whatever, did you try to reach him?”
A serious gaze adorned Gina’s face. “Yes, I talked to him and rescheduled the appointment. He was pretty rude.”
Cahan became serious. “Morales was rude?”
“Yeah, he was.”
“That’s surprising. Every time I’ve met with him, he’s been very respectful. A good kid.”
Gina responded, “Well, he wasn’t respectful today.”
“What did he say?”
The secretary paused for a few seconds, trying to decide whether or not to spoil her boss’s day. Finally, she said, “He told me he had more important things to do than worry about some little bitch.”
Regis drew back in his chair. “What... He said that... Is that what he said or are you paraphrasing?”
The secretary took a sip of her drink. She positioned the glass on the stained, white bar napkin, trying to land it in the existing circle. When the glass was satisfactorily grounded, she said, “Actually, he used the word ‘cunt’ rather than ‘bitch.’ But I am a lady and there are some words I won’t use. Everything else is just about word for word.”
Regis sat with a perplexed look on his face. “Why didn’t you tell me right after he called?”
“You were busy and I figured maybe he was just having a bad day. I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Plus, I didn’t want to ruin your day.”
Cahan hung his head, then reached across the table and touched Gina’s hand. “I’m sorry. I’ll straighten everything out with him... When is he coming in?”
“I think in a week or so. It’s in the big calendar on my desk.”
Regis returned his hand to his Black Jack. Before taking a drink, he asked, “Any problems getting him to reschedule?”
Gina answered, “Yeah, a little bit of a problem, but I sweet talked him.”
“Son of a bitch. It seems like ‘favors’ never work out. I swear, no more ‘favors’ for friends of friends.”
“Regis, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that’s what you say every time.”
“Well, this time I mean it... This kid’s the last one. And I will straighten his little ass out.”
Cahan finished his drink, hastily, and said, “Are you ready to go?”
Gina responded, “See, I was right. Your day is ruined. I should have kept it to myself.”
“No. I need to know things like that. The guy is my client. I’m just pissed because he said those things to you.”
Gina finished her drink. She put her hand on Cahan’s and in a mock, ogling fashion, said, “My hero.”
Regis finally laughed again. He signed the bar tab, waived to Ramon, and they left. In the parking lot, as they were getting in their respective cars, Cahan said, “Tell your husband he’s a lucky man.”