No Justice: A Michael Sykora Novel

by Darcia Helle

  The girl’s voice rose in a high-pitched protest as Darius struggled with her shorts. “Keep quiet and I won’t hurt you,” Darius was saying. “You’re gonna love it, baby. You know you want it.”

  Darius was so consumed with the girl that he didn’t hear Michael approaching behind him. The girl saw him first and her eyes, full of tears, widened with growing fear. Michael shook his head to let her know to keep quiet. She clamped her jaw shut and stared wide-eyed while Darius pawed at her.

  “C’mon baby,” Darius said. His attempt to soothe her came out more as an aggravated whine.

  Darius was sprawled on top of the girl, yanking on her zipper. Michael took a step closer. “Get the fuck off her,” he said.

  Darius flipped over, scrambling to get his bearings. “What the hell…?”

  “Now don’t move,” Michael told him. “Or I’ll blow your nuts off right where you sit.”

  Darius stilled. Michael said, “And don’t even think about yelling for anyone inside.” Then he turned to the girl and said, “How old are you?”

  “Fourteen,” the girl replied in a whisper.

  “Jesus,” Michael sputtered. “Fix your clothes.”

  “What the fuck do you want?” Darius demanded.

  Michael glared at him. “I hear your voice again and I’m going to stuff my foot in your mouth. Do we understand each other?”

  Darius nodded and wisely kept his mouth shut. Tears were now pouring down the girl’s cheeks. Michael turned back to her and, in a much softer tone, said, “Hey, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help. Okay?”

  The girl gave a little nod. Michael said, “Do you live near here?”

  The girl shook her head no. Michael said, “Where then?”

  “Ridge Road.”

  “I’ll take you home. Okay?”

  The girl nodded. Michael did not want to kill Darius in front of the girl. He also couldn’t risk leaving Darius alive. And forcing him to go along was way too risky. So, with his gun and an eye on Darius, he said to the girl, “What’s your name?”

  “Leah.”

  “Leah. Pretty name. Look, Darius is a really bad guy. You get that now, right?”

  Leah nodded. Michael said, “I don’t want you involved with this, so I’d like you to take a walk. Do you know where the church is around the corner?”

  Another nod. Michael said, “Head that way. I’ll catch up in a few minutes. Then I’ll take you home.”

  “Okay.”

  “Running away wouldn’t be smart. I won’t hurt you. But I can’t promise no one else out there will. Let me get you home safe. Okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “I know it’s crazy to ask you to trust me. But you can.”

  “He was going to rape me,” Leah whispered.

  “Little bitch,” Darius spat. “You wanted it.”

  In one quick, fluid move, Michael drove his foot into Darius’ mouth. His head flung back, hard onto the pavement. While Darius spit blood and teeth, Michael said, “I warned you.”

  Leah’s lip twitched with the hint of a smile. Michael crouched down and met her on eye level. He said, “Hooking up with this guy was dumb.”

  “I know.”

  “You live with your parents?”

  “Yeah.”

  “They’re good to you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then listen to them more.”

  This time Leah did smile. “I will.”

  “Now get out of here. Go straight to the church and I’ll meet you there. Try to stay out of sight from cars. You never know who’s roaming around the streets at this hour.”

  Leah got to her feet. As she pulled open the screen door, she said, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell?”

  “Should I be?”

  “Did he hurt someone you know?”

  Michael glanced back at Darius, who now had his shirt balled up against his bloody mouth. “He was hurting you,” Michael replied. “The rest you don’t want to know about.”

  Leah nodded, then disappeared into the darkness. Would she go straight to the church, as he’d said? Or would she run away, call the cops, or hang out in the shadows and watch? Whichever she chose, Michael didn’t have the time to contemplate the outcome.

  Darius struggled to get to his feet. Michael stepped closer and said, “You want to tell me about the kiddie porn?”

  “What?” Darius said. He now spoke with a lisp through his broken teeth and swelling lips. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

  “Save it. I know you distribute it for Lott. I want to know who makes the stuff.”

  “Fuck off.”

  Michael sighed. “Darius, you’re really not very good at playing nice.”

  “You want a cut? Is that it?”

  “You got a name for me?”

  “A name would get me killed.”

  “No name will get you killed.”

  Darius glared at Michael. “I don’t know any names. I just work for Lotto.”

  “Following orders?” Michael asked. “Like Pete? And your brother Marcus?”

  “My brother? What the hell…?”

  “You sure you don’t want to help yourself with a name?”

  “What do you know about my brother?”

  “I killed him,” Michael said.

  “You?”

  “And Pete.”

  “Holy fuck,” Darius said. “You’re The Ghost.”

  “Yeah,” Michael said.

  “So that bitch had nothing to do with it after all? It’s about the porn?”

  “That bitch would be Nicki. And she has everything to do with this.”

  “But -”

  “I found out about the porn because I’ve been protecting her,” Michael said. “And that meant finding information on you miserable pricks. Now, one last time, care to give me a name?”

  “I don’t wanna die,” Darius sputtered. “I swear I don’t know a name. But I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll set the guy up so you can find him. You can do what you want with him. I won’t say a fucking word.”

  Darius was whining now. A high-pitched sound like a frightened two-year-old. “Your mother inside?” Michael asked.

  “Yeah. Don’t hurt her, man. She’s got nothing to do with this.”

  “You were going to rape a 14-year-old girl.”

  “No way,” Darius stammered. “She wanted it.”

  “Fourteen. You’re a sick man.”

  “No, dude. I didn’t know how old she was. She told me she was 18.”

  “Sad that your mother will have to be the one to find you. I wish it didn’t have to be that way.”

  “Fuck,” Darius said as he stumbled backward. “C’mon. I said I’d help you.”

  “I can do without your help,” Michael said. “You’d be way more trouble than you’re worth.”

  As Darius attempted to scramble toward the sliders that led inside, Michael put a bullet in his head. Despite the silencer, the sound echoed loud in the still night. Blood and brains sprayed over the yellow stucco wall.

  Michael did a quick check. No lights on in the house. No one standing at the windows. He found the light switch for the pool by the slider doors. He flicked it off. The pool went dark. Then he strode calmly into the darkness.

  Chapter 50

  Michael caught up with Leah a few yards away from the church. She turned and waited for him. “Did you kill him?” she asked.

  He ignored her and continued to walk. “I’m parked behind the church,” he said.

  “You don’t look the gang type,” Leah said as she followed him.

  “I’m not in a gang.”

  “So Darius must’ve done something awful to you. Or someone you love?”

  “Does anyone know you went to his house tonight?”

  “A couple of his friends,” Leah replied. “Maybe a couple people at the bar saw us leave together.” Then her voice rose as she said, “Oh my God! You don’t think his friends will come after me, do you?
Like thinking I set him up?”

  Michael pulled the passenger door open. “Get in. And, no, I don’t think that.”

  Once Michael had maneuvered out onto the main street, he said, “If witnesses saw you together, the cops might come looking for you.”

  “Oh.”

  “They’ll want to know what happened. If you saw anything.”

  “No one at the bar knows me,” Leah said. “I never went inside. I met Darius in the parking lot and we left a few minutes later. And even Darius only knew my first name, not where I live or anything.”

  “Good.”

  “I won’t tell anyone what I saw,” Leah said. “About you, I mean.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  “I was really stupid to go with him.”

  “Yup.”

  “He said he was good friends with a producer and he’d make me a star.”

  “Yeah. In porn. His friend uses young girls to make porn movies for sick adult men.”

  “Oh.”

  They both fell silent. After a few moments, Michael asked Leah which direction on Ridge Road. She told him, then said, “Was he going to make me do that stuff? Like kidnap me?”

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  “You think I’m a stupid kid, don’t you?”

  Michael glanced at her and smiled. “No. I think you’re a smart teenage girl who made a bad decision.”

  “My house is right over there,” Leah said. “But you should let me out at this corner. I snuck out my window, so I’d better sneak back in. My parents would freak if they knew I’d been out all night.”

  Michael pulled to the curb. “Stay safe,” he said.

  Leah flashed him a smile. “You too.” Then she slipped out of the car and ran down the sidewalk, disappearing into her backyard.

  ***

  At 6:05 a.m., Michael arrived back home. He parked in his garage and dragged himself out of the car. The night had been one of those endless ordeals that left him with a pounding headache. Now he was beyond exhaustion. But the night had been productive, which was what mattered.

  He opened the side door leading into the kitchen. The smell of coffee almost woke him. Nicki came into the room with Chelsea close on her heels. Michael hadn’t expected Nicki to be up so early and was about to comment on that when her expression stopped him. Arms folded across her chest, dark circles under her eyes that looked as if she’d been up all night, and an expression of anger focused straight at him. He wanted to back out of the room and go sleep in his car. He said, “What’s wrong?”

  “Did you take my keys?” Nicki demanded.

  “Your keys?”

  “Yeah, you know, those silver things that you stick in holes to open doors and start cars?”

  Michael groaned and swiped a hand through his hair. “Yes. I took your keys.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “So you’d stay put.”

  “I told you I would,” Nicki said. “That should have been enough.”

  “Okay. So why were you looking for them if you weren’t planning on using them?”

  “Don’t be changing the subject. I spent an hour searching through this house. I even blamed the dog! Then I finally figured out you had to have taken them.”

  “I’m not apologizing.”

  “I don’t like being treated like a child,” Nicki said.

  Michael strode past her. “Can this argument wait until later? I really need sleep.”

  In his room, Michael kicked off his shoes and stripped off his shirt. He was unzipping his shorts when Nicki walked in. She said, “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “I’m not as helpless as you think.”

  “What’s so important that you need to do?” Michael asked.

  “I was going to try to find out who’s making those porn movies.”

  “I appreciate your desire to help,’ Michael said as he flopped onto his bed. “And I know you’re far from helpless. But it’s not worth risking your life.”

  “I noticed something while I was searching your house.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You don’t have much personal stuff. Nothing that says anything about who you are.”

  Michael closed his eyes. He was too tired to argue, too tired to defend what was true. “I know.”

  “Why is that?”

  “You’re doing it again.”

  “Doing what again?”

  “Jumping from one subject to another,” Michael said. “I can’t think that fast.”

  “You just don’t like talking about your emotions.”

  “I don’t have emotions.”

  “And that’s a load of shit.”

  “I’m going to sleep now.”

  “You’re leaving your shorts on?” Nicki asked.

  “Good night.”

  “Are you going to tell me what happened last night?”

  “Later.”

  “Are you going to give me my keys?”

  “No.”

  Nicki was saying something else but Michael was already drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 51

  “You seen Pete today?” Lotto asked when Wiz showed up at his apartment.

  “No,” Wiz replied. “I figured he was off taking care of that business at the shelter.”

  “He ain’t answering his phone,” Lotto said. “Neither is Darius.”

  “Darius is probably still in bed. Remember he hooked up with that jailbait last night?”

  “Yeah. All right. But Pete’s always quick to do what I ask and he’s never out of touch this long.”

  “What are you thinking?” Wiz asked.

  Lotto slumped onto his chair. Isabel’s things still surrounded him, which pissed him off. He didn’t want to be reminded of her. He said, “I don’t know what the fuck I’m thinking. That bullshit talk about The Ghost has me on edge. And the cops are crawling all over. Something’s not feeling right.”

  Wiz got them both a beer and was about to sit when someone pounded on the door. He approached it, gun in hand, and called, “Who is it?”

  “Police,” came the reply.

  Wiz and Lotto raced to the bedroom and yanked open a trunk. They removed a pile of blankets and pulled out the false bottom. Then they dumped their weapons inside, along with a baggie of marijuana and a vial of coke.

  The cop pounded on the door again, calling, “Antonio Lott! Open the door. We need to talk.”

  Once they had the trunk back together, Lotto opened the door while Wiz hung back in the living room. Two uniformed cops stood in the hall, along with a guy in plain clothes that looked and smelled like a detective. “What d’you want?” Lott asked.

  “Could we come in for a minute?” the skinny cop asked.

  All polite and respectful. Like they really expected Lotto to buy that act. He replied, “Got a warrant?”

  “We’re not here to give you a hard time,” the cop said. “We’d just like to ask you a few questions.”

  Lotto glared at them. “So ask.”

  The skinny cop glanced around the hall. “It’d really be better if we did this inside.”

  “Or you could come for a ride with us,” the other cop said.

  He was muscular, like he worked out in a gym four hours a day, and had the face of a bulldog. The detective stood quietly behind the two cops but Lotto could tell the guy was looking for any excuse to take him down. So he stepped aside and said, “Let’s get this over with.”

  Once they were inside with the door closed, Lotto said, “I’ve already answered all your fucking questions about Isabel. I didn’t do nothing to her. I loved her. So stop wasting my time and go find the asshole that killed her.”

  “We’re not here about Isabel,” the skinny cop said.

  “What then?” Lotto said.

  The bulldog stepped forward. “Darius Bowen is your cousin?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “When did you see or speak with him last?”r />
  “What the fuck is this about?” Lotto demanded.

  The bulldog shifted his gaze over to Wiz. Lotto said, “He’s cool. Say what you’ve got to say.”

  Lotto’s cell phone chirped. He pulled it from his pocket. The call was coming from Darius’ house. Darius never used the house phone. Had to be his aunt. What the hell was going on? He was beginning to feel sick. He let the call go to voice mail, glared at the cops, and said, “What about Darius?”

  “He’s dead,” the skinny cop said. “We’re very sorry.”

  “Where were you last night?” the detective asked.

  “Dead?” Lotto repeated.

  Wiz had come to stand beside Lotto. He said, “How?”

  “Bullet to the head,” the bulldog replied. “Execution style.”

  “And you think I killed my own fucking cousin?” Lotto said.

  “No,” the detective replied. “But we’d like to know where you were. Where he was when you last saw him. If anything unusual happened last night. You know the drill.”

  Unfeeling bastard. Lotto wanted to put a bullet through the detective’s heart. “Get the fuck out!” he demanded.

  “You either talk to us here,” the bulldog said, “or you take a ride and talk to us at the station. Your choice.”

  Wiz said, “Look, Darius was with us at Rafferty’s until around one. Then he took off. We don’t know what happened after that.”

  “That’s two of your guys,” the detective said. “And your girlfriend. Lots of people dying around you, Lotto.”

  Lotto glared at the detective but said nothing. Wiz said, “You just told him his cousin’s dead. Why don’t you give the man some peace.”

  “Nothing you want to tell us?” the bulldog asked.

  “Yeah,” Lotto said. “Your smell is stinking up my place. Now get the hell out.”

  Wiz escorted them out the door. First Marcus. Now Darius. His fucking cousins. Both dead. And where the hell was Pete?

  Lotto slammed his fist into the wall. While his knuckles dripped blood onto the floor, he muttered, “Fucking Darius.”

  Wiz said, “You hear what they said? A head shot. Gotta be The Ghost.”

  “Find Pete,” Lotto said. “I want to know what the fuck’s going on.”

  “You got it,” Wiz replied.

  Chapter 52

  “He was about to rape a 14-year-old girl,” Michael said.

  “Oh my God,” Nicki said. “You stopped it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So she saw you?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Aren’t you worried that she’ll tell someone?” Nicki asked.

  Michael shrugged. “It is what it is.”

  “What if she tells her parents? Or the cops track her down?”