The Auction

The Auction - A Hannah Todd Story

The Auction - A Hannah Todd Story

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental. This work is copyrighted by the author. All characters involved in sexual activity are eighteen years of age or older at the time of portrayal.

This is the continuing adventures of Hannah Todd. I would strongly recommend you read at least some of "The Bridge" and "Badass," which provide the backstory for most of the characters in this story. And if you've been reading me, thank you for your continued support. Your comments are priceless, so please leave your wisdom so I might improve my product.

The Auction - Part Four

The Auction - Part Four

I didn't want to disturb Rhee Spanner during the weekend, so once I had taken my run and the kids were off to school on Monday I gave her a call. She's always up and always working.

"Hannah, my dear friend. It looks like you've made quite the splash. Hundreds of girls and women emerged into the light, revealing some pretty disturbing stuff. It's a shame you couldn't have taken your time with this. I expect plenty of those perps got away when they heard about what we did."

"Yeah. After what we've been going through lately my troops need a rest. You can't do it all, Rhee. There was a sense of urgency I felt to get as many of those girls released as soon as possible and it looks like that part of the plan worked."

"Speaking of urgency, I know this isn't a social call. What have you got for me now?"

"A non-urgent matter, as a matter of fact. There's someone I want you to do a deep dive into."

"Non-urgent, now that's something new."

"Don't razz me, Rhee. It's not urgent, but it is important."

"What do you have for me, sister?"

"I want you to do a deep dive into F.B.I. Special Agent Carlotta Russo, out of Washington, D.C. I want to know everything about her. Especially if she is a sinner or a saint. The former could be good for me and the latter could be a problem, so dig deep."

"I'll sic Shadow on her. Before the end of the week you'll know every time she farts."

"You have a way with words, my friend. Thanks for your help. I'll let you get to it. Oh, before you go."

"Yes?"

"I thought Shadow was tailing Jimmy Cookman for me."

"Haven't you been reading my reports, Hannah. Shame on you. I had someone take Jimmy out drinking and she roofied him and had him chipped. So we can turn his chip on and off at will. If you want to know where he is at any given time just ask and you shall receive."

"Thanks. I've been so under it with our latest pursuit that I guess I'm letting the paperwork pile up. I don't have time for Jimmy right now. That sonofabitch still owes me inventories from two years ago on George Barry's sports stuff. For reporting purposes, we've done an unofficial inventory, but the IRS has been bugging my people. It may be time to open that can of worms pretty soon. Maybe I should let Big Dom take the meeting with him. That will motivate him."

"How is the gentle giant?"

"Ever vigilant and ever present. I don't go much of anywhere without him."

"I wouldn't if I were you. He's my kind of operator."

"I think he's Duane's favorite. He's certainly mine. But that's between you and me."

"I'll keep it on the down low. Let me go, Hannah. I want to see what we can dig up on this Agent Russo. I'll be in touch as soon as I've got something."

"Love you, Rhee."

"Love ya back, Han."

*CLICK*

I hadn't heard back from Toothy, so I made a call to the clubhouse.

"Soul Riders. What the fuck you want?"

"It's me, Hound Dog. Hannah Todd."

"Sorry Queen Bee, didn't mean nuthin' by it."

"I know you, Dog. Is Toothy around? I haven't heard back from him."

"He's gettin' ready to head out. Hold on and let me catch him."

I sat on hold for no more than a minute when my old friend picked up.

"Queen Bee. How's my girl? Sorry I haven't been back to you, but we had two babies born this weekend and I feel like an air traffic controller around here between that and the solar business. Changes, changes, everywhere. It's enough to drive me back to drinkin'."

"We've been busy here too. We've got our own pregnancy issues here too."

"Oh? Don't tell me you..."

"Oh no, Toothy, that ship has sailed."

"Yeah. Cassie too. Three's enough."

"Yeah, I've got four of my own and Celeste too. Duane's brother's woman is pregnant, and Herman and Peggy are trying. That was always my favorite part."

"So tell me, Hannah. Is that your work I'm seeing all over the news these days."

"Can't say yes, won't say no."

"That's all I need to know. You are a saint, and I don't say that about no one."

"Thank you, my friend. How's my buddy, Cass?"

"Still the love of my life. She ain't gettin' any younger, but she is always gettin' better."

"Well said. Toothy, tell me, are you guys coming east anytime soon?"

"Why do you have a special project for us bikers?"

"Nothing special for now. Just hopin' you two will get here for one of the holidays. I know it's a long way off, but I know we have to book you guys way ahead."

"Ain't that the truth, Queen Bee. Business is booming. Every day we are upgrading to new systems as the technology gets better. I've had to turn down work, and we are six months out on upgrades. It's wonderous."

"Pays the bills."

"And it keeps my rowdy bunch working. And if they're working, they are staying out of trouble. And Hangar has been growing his business, Q Bikes."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He went from small engine repair to strictly bikes. He's even doing Electrocycles. Tiny is keeping him really steady. No more bullshit from Mr. Stake."

"I understand they are getting married. I'm sure Becky is happy about that. She's made quite the comeback."

"Yes she has, thanks to you. Youwillbe expected at the wedding. Even if I have to send someone to drag you out here to Monroeville."

"There will be no dragging. Give me a date well in advance, and I will clear my calendar. Duane and I will be there."

Thanks, Queen Bee. Give my best to my brothers Duane and Ranger Ron. You know our door is always open to you folks."

"Mine too, Give Cass a big kiss for me."

"You know I will. Right on the old hoo ha."

*CLICK*

I'd made the call to Toothy from the sun porch, but I wanted to talk to Holly, maybe have lunch together. So I went up to the office where she was at her desk going over paperwork. I gave her a big smile.

"Holl. Let's have lunch together. Maybe we can talk about the divorce and see where we are at. I have a special favor I wanted to ask you and talk about those properties you are concerned about."

"I'd love to, Hannah." She smiled back. "I'm actually reviewing some of the things Jake and I were talking about the other day, and I'd like to discuss them with you anyway."

"How about twelve-thirty? I have an errand to run this afternoon but I don't have to leave until almost two. So I won't be here when the kids get home from school. But I shouldn't be that long afterwards."

"We can do twelve, if that's better for you."

"Twelve it is." So I left her to what she was doing and went down to play with the three babies. Babies, ha! They are toddlers now. Especially Ellie, Bertha and Mac's little girl. She was sharp as a tack and teaching my twins how to toddle. She was full on walking and blabbering away, a mile a minute. She even made sense sometimes. I'd forgotten how much I missed watching kids grow up.

At twelve, I left the kids to Becca and Aggie and went into the kitchen to see what Bertha was brewing up for dinner. She had collected greens and other veggies earlier in anticipation of making a salad for Holly and me. And by the time Holly appeared, the salad was done, with sourdough cheesy bread as a side.

"So, Holl, how did it go with Mr. Johnson. Are we solvent?"

"Oh, we are way more than solvent. We're up more than three percent for the year and we are only in May. Jake expects us up above five percent by year's end. Including our portion of RFS, we are teetering over a billion. Not Tuttlehill territory, but easily in the top one percent in the area."

"Good to hear. Jake is doing a great job for us. Have you spoken to Barry Finkel? I'd like to talk about the five properties you mentioned the other day. One in particular."

"Oh? What, may I ask, is that about."

"While you were out gallivanting with Mr. Miller this weekend, Davante and Harley paid us a visit. They're getting married, Holl. And I'd like to give them one of those properties as a wedding gift. And I know just the one."

"Oh? Not the little farmhouse, is it?"

"No, Holly, that one is my special place. Just for me. Don't tell the kids, but during the summer and early fall a lot of our veggies and some of our chickens come from there. And those brown eggs you are so fond of."

"Which property do you have in mind? They are all worth a pretty penny. That's a very generous wedding gift."

"I'm a generous gal; you know that. Besides, Davante will be family some day and you can't do enough for family. He and his intended are both government employees and could never afford a place like this one on their own."

"Which property, Han?"

"The three bedroom outside of Downingtown. Close to Bertha's people and pretty close to Duane's place."

"I have no objection to that. It's been sitting empty for a year now. Three bedrooms. Are they thinking about having a family soon?"

"Oh, they're thinking about it." They sure are. Every waking minute.

"And the other four properties you want?"

"That's right. Four more, including the farmette. It's very special to me."

"And can I inspect these properties before we add them to the settlement?"

"No. Take it at face value and, like I said. I'll pay you cash for all of them to add to your personal estate. What are you worth now, Holl, twenty, twenty-five mill?"

"Good that you're paying attention. More like thirty, with these properties."

"I'm sure Mr. Miller will find them very appetizing."

"I resent that you think he's into me for my money, Hannah. I think we're in love."

"You think? Or you know? Thirty million and a beautiful brunette is quite the package."

"Hannah Todd! You're just plain mean."

"I just don't want your heart to get the best of your head. We have a history here, Hol."

"Lu says that's all behind me."

"Yet you continue to see her twice a week. What do you talk about, Holly? Me or Chuck?"

"It's confidential, Hannah, and none of your fuckin' business."

"That's awful rough. Even between wives?"

"You've played that hand far too many times, Hannah Todd. And you still keep coming up with a pair of twos."

"Yeah? Well I hold the trump card. The 'everything is mine' clause in the prenup. Whenever it all goes to shit, it all reverts back to me. It's all mine, when you get right down to it, Holly. And you have no one but yourself to blame. You are the one who insisted it be in there. I always called it Holly's Folly. You wanna die on that hill, Miss Bernstein?

The tears did not have the opportunity to well up in her eyes. She just bawled from the start. My heart was breaking more with every tear. Her face shrouded by her long chestnut brown hair. I could hear the cries more than see them. That I could not bear.

"You could walk away from this a very rich and powerful woman. Several companies that are name branded within their industries, and services that you provide that others hunger for. Then there's the golf tournament which Milton Mills Agency has all but taken over. I just get to show up and strut my Louboutins. Pose for a few photos, taken by Lizzie mostly. No golfing for me. Put in a gun range and I'll show what I can do to get a hole in one.

About all that. This is the hardest time for my guys, and if anyone knew how many of the extraneous guys at the tournament are my people, I would be shunned in society. I have people who are in twelve of the foursomes playing in the tournament. Fully armed and ready to go. And every one of those golfers has a caddy. And he's watching that bag. Closely.

I know this sounds a little hardcore, but they insist. And they want to do it. They don't just volunteer, they offer to do it for free for the sheer entertainment value. And to give to the Jane Amherst Annual Invitational. And my guys played some good golf. Three of my guys and my dad go out as a foursome. And sometimes two go with Holly's dad and mine for a foursome of their own. Holly's dad and Avi commune on the course. And fortunately, we are in one of the wealthiest pockets of the Commonwealth.

My father can reach my house in ten minutes, even if he takes his time, which he always does. He is also within ten minutes of two golf courses and thirty minutes within four. He is living his dream retirement, and it's on his own dime. The only thing he mooches off of me is the kids.

The tournament is on Sunday, May twenty-eighth, and it will be held at the course out in the Chester County woods. About thirty minutes from my place. Less than an hour and a half from Philly. On the way we often stop at Bridge House and check in with the girls. Help them to get dressed and ready so they can strut their stuff to beg for more money for the Jane Amherst Center for Young Women. And it's always great to stop in at Bridge and see Missy, who has taken over as administrator.

To make a long story short, I lead a busy and complicated life. And aside from the tournament, I've got the auction to deal with. I've got six people chained up in one of my safe houses. Women and girls are flooding out of everywhere with no rhyme or reason. I've got a few more F.B.I. agents in my life than I am truly comfortable with. And my circle of trust grows even broader. Not a comfy spot. Did I remember to tell you I am raising two soon to be toddlers and two very grown-up young kids at five and almost eight? And a ten-year-old stepdaughter who is a friggin' genius. The crown weighs heavy on the Queen Bee's head.

The tournament is more of a Holly thing, anyway. Let her be the face of it. I've got bigger fish to fry.

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I really did and didn't want to go to the safe house. I just felt obligated, so Monday afternoon, after fighting with Holly, my guys Alec and Domingo, along with an escort, took me to see our hostages, or prisoners, or whatever you want to call them.

Rose was the longest-standing prisoner, and he was just this side of delirious. He spent most of the weekend with Raven, and between the constant cackling and the sleep deprivation, there is nothing I couldn't get from him.

"Miles Teetotaler, Dieter. Ring a bell?"

"The auctioneer. Of course, it rings a bell. How did you find out about him?

"A little bird told me."

"You got Peacock to talk? I didn't see that coming. Please, please, please give him his fucking bird back. I've had enough. What could you possibly need from me if you have him?"

"I think I need you to calm the fuck down and get in touch with Teetotaler for me."

"Are you fuckin nuts? The auctioneerwillhunt you down, find you and make you go away. If you think Deacon is tough, he's nothing compared to Miles."

"Did I say Peacock was tough? I guess I misspoke. Tell me, Dieter, will you come to the auction with me? I need someone who fits in."

"Fuck no! Kill me now, kill me here. Hit me up with your fucking cattle prods if you need to. Just no Miles Teetotaler. That's a deathtrap for youandfor me. I'm sure his boss is already looking for me, and it isn't good. Being missing this long does not serve either you or me. I have a price on my head, Hannah Todd, and I expect you do too."

"Well, Dieter, I'll have to see how we will be handling this situation. Stay fluid and get a good night's sleep."

"Can I at least get a shower and a decent meal? I'm getting awfully tired of oatmeal and applesauce."

"It's keepin you alive, Mr. Rose, and that's all I care about. See you soon, Dieter."

And I walked out of the room and into the next one. Francois and Greta, who were at this point, trying their best to get along. It kind of reminded me of me and Holly. Only skankier.

"Tell me, ladies, just between us gals, who is the auctioneer's boss? How do I get in touch with this person?"

"And what would I get if I rolled over and told you?" Greta asked me, looking resigned to her fate.

"Then you don't have to sleep in a pigsty and fend off the advances of a hungry pig. They're big suckers too. You saw them. And you smelled them too. My guess is that they smelled you too and liked what they were smelling. They'll remember you. And they're really friendly. Oink, oink, Greta. You too, Frankie. Don't think you are exempt."

"I don't know anything about..."

"Shut up, Frankie," Greta said. "Simon says, shut your mouth."

"Simon, huh?" I asked. "Tell me about this Simon. Who, what, where and how do I get in touch with him? Tell me, Frankie, and it will be Greta who will get to be Mrs. Pig, and not you. You've seen them, and you know I can arrange it. I saw Jim on the way in and he was getting ready to feed the hogs. A whole bucket of garbage. Maybe they'll share with you."

"Yukk, that will make me puke."

"They'll share that with you too. Talk to me, Frankie. Tell me all about Simon."

"Nobody ever sees Simon. Even during videoconference calls, he's blacked out. I don't know if anyone knows what he looks like. Maybe Miles. Miles is his right-hand man." Maybe Greta..."

"Shut your mouth, Frankie. Haven't you said enough? Aren't we in enough trouble?"

"Oh, you're in trouble, alright," I said. "I doubt whether his pigs are as hungry as mine."

"You wouldn't!"

"Try me. Ladies, I think we're gonna have a little contest. The first-place prize is a nice dinner with wine and all the trimmings. The second-place prize is you get to sleep with the hogs. And tomorrow I get to pick the winner. Or should I say, the winner gets to pick herself. See you then, ladies." And I walked out the door, leaving them shackled to the fifty-pound weights.

Figuring they'd either claw each other's eyes out or beg me to be the first to tell me what I wish to know, I left them to ponder their fate.

Behind door number three was Tom Gacey. After a decent night's sleep, he was fairly bright-eyed, and I got right to the point. "Tom, I need contact information for Simon. I'm ready to go over Miles' head and call him directly, but I need a number. You are the guy who has that kind of information. We know Simon is the big boss, and I always like to speak with the person in charge. Give it up, Tom."

"How do you even know about Simon? Deacon wouldn't have told you. It must be Rose or Goldheimer. Those flunkies. They are so stupid. Why don't you ask them?"

"Oh, I did. And they are in the middle of a contest to see who gives me the most information the fastest."

"Then why do you want it from me then?"

"Confirmation. I never trust just one source. But you, my friend, are the most reliable source."

"I'm not your friend, and I can't help you. You probably destroyed that information when you blew up the house."

"Tell me, Tom. Where would the information have been?"

"Deacon kept it on a blue memory stick. If you had that, you would have the contact information for both Simon and Miles."

Bingo. I do have the blue memory stick, and I remember now that it had a directory entitled 'Contacts.' It's locked in the drawer in my office.

"Tell me, Tom. Where did Deacon keep that drive? I expect something that valuable he kept pretty close at hand."