Posted by: jockmackenzie | May 7, 2009

“Dealing with Dymans” Chapter 11, Pt. 1

Chapter 11. Payback

Click the “start arrow” below to hear the audio of this chapter:

Douglas Dymans sat at his office desk. His special cell phone was now in his pocket. He had gotten a good scare, a reminder of a time he would like to have forgotten, but one that was burned into his memory. Burned.

When some people got scared, they broke, knuckled under, succumbed to whatever or whomever was doing the scaring. Not Douglas. He had reacted foolishly in the past and paid dearly. He had, outwardly, danced to their tune ever since. Danced so long and so well he had lulled them into believing he was scared senseless. Oh yes, he was scared. He was damn scared. But he was not scared senseless.

One of Douglas’s philosophies was “All in due time.” There were, of course, peaks and valleys, but he was not only a survivor, he was a victor. He didn’t have the university degree that would have made his life so much easier, an oversight that plagued him continually, a roadblock that slowed his progress. But his life had been one roadblock after another and look at him now. Well, looking right now wasn’t the best time – but everything’s relative.

Douglas calmed himself. He had known, or should have known, that the sign thing was more than someone’s prank. Yes, he was sure he had known. He had been so busy. He had had other things on his plate – but now it didn’t matter. His immediate priority was to find out who had been asking about him, asking in places where they had heard. Somehow he knew the two incidents were related. Related? Hell, they were Siamese twins – one and the same, joined at the hip. And it was time for a separation.
He was Douglas Rollins Dymans. He was not “Dougie” Dymans. He knew people called him that – but they sure as hell didn’t call him that to his face. He hated the name, hated how childish it made him sound, hated the connotation that he was a “Doug the Slug” or he was somehow less than the people who called him that. He hated . . . but that wasn’t the point.

He took another deep breath. “Think” was what he needed to do. How could he discover who messed with his sign? Maybe it had been that Darryl, the guy from Sign of the Times, the guy who built the sign in the first place. Not getting paid would be reason to look for a little payback. On the other hand, did he have the balls? Most wouldn’t. Besides, why would he be asking about Douglas, asking in the places where they would hear? Still, who knows?

What he really needed was to see the bastard. See him. Of course – the surveillance tapes. He had video surveillance from inside the store; those pimped out security guards had mall cameras and mall tapes. Either or both would tell him what he needed to know.

His flight had gotten in on the previous Thursday evening. He had come to the store the next morning and discovered the damage. By reviewing the digitized images that his system stored, and if need be, the antiquated video tapes used by the mall, he felt certain he would unmask the culprit – and then it would be his turn to make things painfully clear, clear that one doesn’t mess with Douglas Dymans.

• • •


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