Sins in the Sun: A Vigilante Series crime thriller

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Sins in the Sun: A Vigilante Series crime thriller Page 1

by Claude Bouchard




  Sins in the Sun

  A novel by

  Claude Bouchard

  SINS IN THE SUN

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © 2015 by Claude Bouchard

  Cover design by Luke Romyn

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales are purely coincidental.

  Published by Claude Bouchard

  Dedication

  In terms of importance in my life, my siblings have always made the top of the list through their love, generosity and caring. That said, Johanne, Marc and Lucie, this one is for you.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 – Sunday, December 7, 2014

  Chapter 2 – Monday, December 8, 2014

  Chapter 3 – Tuesday, December 9, 2014

  Chapter 4 – Wednesday, December 10, 2014

  Chapter 5 – Thursday, December 11, 2014

  Chapter 6 – Friday, December 12, 2014

  Chapter 7 – Sunday, December 14, 2014

  Chapter 8 – Monday, December 15, 2014

  Chapter 9 – Tuesday, December 16, 2014

  Chapter 10 – Wednesday, December 17, 2014

  Chapter 11 – Thursday, December 18, 2014

  Chapter 12 – Friday, December 19, 2014

  Chapter 13 – Saturday, December 20, 2014

  Chapter 14 – Sunday, December 21, 2014

  Chapter 1 – Sunday, December 7, 2014

  Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic, early evening

  “It really is a shame, Ollie,” said Pedro Gomez to the man sprawled on the concrete floor before him. “If only you had minded your business, you’d be at home right now, spending a nice quiet evening with your lovely wife and that cute little daughter of yours.”

  Through eyes swollen almost shut, Oliverio Lomas squinted about the small, grimy, vacant warehouse, wondering if this was where he would breathe his last breath. One voice within him screamed, begging him to remain quiet or, better yet, to apologize and promise to cooperate with Gomez going forward. The other voice however, the stronger one which reflected his inveterate strength and courage, willed him to reply as the man he was.

  “I do mind my business,” he wheezed, ignoring the pain which wracked his body, a consequence of the severe beating he had received. “And that includes maintaining the level of excellence the Ventura Grande is known for. Our resort is a well-respected place where people, including children, come to enjoy their vacation. I will not have your prostitutes wandering onto our premises, bothering our customers with their solicitation and marring our reputation. They are not welcome at the Ventura Grande. Keep them at that brothel of yours where they belong.”

  “Paraíso de Ángeles is not a brothel, Ollie,” Pedro replied. “It is a vacation resort, much like yours, which caters to open-minded adults. I might add, a number of your customers apparently aren’t too bothered by our hostesses’ visits since they subsequently come party with us.”

  “Keep your whores off our property,” Oliver repeated, “Or I will do whatever it takes to bring you down. Not all police officers in this country are corrupt.”

  Pedro gazed at Lomas for a moment then smiled. “I have to admit, Oliver, I admire your, how do you say, spunk? However, I suggest you think about this carefully and rationally over the next few days while you rest. I would hate for anything more serious to happen to you, or worse, to your lovely family. We will discuss this again once you are feeling better but, for now, I suggest you remain quiet for your own good.”

  He waited a moment then glanced at his two men who stood on either side of Lomas.

  “Help Oliver back to the police car,” he said before turning to the two policia de tourismo officers who had brought Lomas over. “Take him to the clinica. The poor man was beaten and is obviously hurt. Please see that his car is returned to his home and inform his wife the police will do their best to find the muggers who did this to him. The dear woman must be getting worried about his absence by now.”

  Chapter 2 – Monday, December 8, 2014

  Ventura Grande Resort, Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic, 8:56 a.m.

  “I can understand why Oliver was so excited for us to see the renovations in person,” said Sandy as they strolled across the Ventura Grande’s vast central courtyard on their way to the lobby. “This place looks like a whole new resort.”

  “The photos he sent us certainly didn’t do it justice,” her husband, Chris, agreed as he gazed about, taking in the countless changes which had been made to update the luxury resort’s décor. “He has reason to be proud.”

  Avid travellers, Chris and Sandy Barry had first visited the resort five years earlier when looking to exchange a week’s worth of Montreal’s winter for some sand, sun and fun. Considering the myriad of travel destinations the world has to offer, they had never vacationed at the same place twice – until having stayed at the Ventura Grande. There was no doubt its splendid accommodations, superb cuisine and excellent service had influenced their decision to return but the key factor had been the homey atmosphere which they had never previously encountered in similar Caribbean resorts.

  As a result, the Ventura Grande had become a regular ‘go to’ spot whenever they needed a break from the cold and their frequent visits had led to a solid friendship with the general manager, Oliver Lomas. A ‘Welcome’ breakfast with Ollie on their first full day had become the tradition, which was where they were currently heading, having arrived the previous afternoon.

  “Hola, Carlo,” Chris called out as they approached the reception desk.

  Looking up, the young man broke into a smile and cried, “Señor Barry! Señora! Cómo estás, my friends?”

  “Excelente,” said Chris as he shook the man’s hand. “How are you?”

  “I am fine, thank you,” Carlo replied as his expression grew somber, “But I am sad and worried with the news about Oliver.”

  “What news about Oliver?” Chris asked with concern.

  “Of course, you have not heard,” said Carlo, slapping himself on the forehead. “Oliver was attacked last night and badly beaten.”

  “Oh my God,” Sandy gasped. “Is he okay?”

  “He will be okay,” said Carlo. “Valeria, his wife, called early this morning to inform us. Oliver was brought to the Clinica Bournigal where he stayed for the night but he should be going home today. I have arranged for our driver, Roberto, to take Oliver home so Valeria will let me know when he is ready to go.”

  “Do you know what happened?” asked Chris.

  Carlo shook his head. “Valeria did not give much detail. Only that he was attacked by some young men on the street and taken to the clinica by the police.”

  “I understand,” said Chris, thinking ahead as he glanced at his watch. “Listen, we’re going to go get some breakfast. Give Roberto a call and ask him to pick us up in half an hour. We’ll go see Oliver at the clinic and get him home.”

  “Very well,” Carlo agreed as he reached for the phone. “I will call Valeria to inform her of your plans.”

  “Don’t bother,” said Sandy as she pulled out her mobile. “I’ll call her myself to let her know, the poor dear.”

  * * * *

  Lomas residence, Puerto Plata, Domi
nican Republic, late morning

  “Wait until I get out so I can help you,” said Chris from the front seat as Roberto pulled the Ford Explorer into the driveway at the Lomas home.

  “I’m not an invalid,” Oliver growled from the back.

  “No, but you’re injured, Ollie,” said Sandy, placing a comforting but restraining hand on his shoulder. “That’s why we’re here to help you.”

  “A couple of scratches and bruises,” Oliver retorted, though he remained still as Chris stepped out and opened the rear door.

  “Five cracked ribs and a fractured radius is not a couple of scratches and bruises,” Chris argued. “Now, be quiet, put your arm around my neck and let me get my hand under your legs so –”

  “Are you going to carry me in your arms?” Oliver interrupted with a grin then winced in pain as he turned toward Chris.

  “Serves you right, smartass,” said Chris with a grin of his own. “Now, do as I say or I’ll leave you here.”

  With a bit of effort and help, Oliver made it out of the car then sent Roberto on his way, assuring him no further assistance was presently needed. Arrangements had already been made for the driver to be available should Oliver or the Barrys require transportation in the coming days. With Oliver now accepting Chris’ offer of support without question, they slowly made their way to the front door where Valeria waited.

  “Buenos días, mi amor,” Valeria said, her tone bright though her eyes glistened with tears as she hugged him gently. “How are you feeling?”

  “Not so bad,” her husband replied, “And I have pills I can take to keep it that way.”

  “I’m happy you’re home,” said Valeria before flashing a grateful smile at Chris and Sandy. “Thank you so much for your help.”

  “It’s our pleasure, Val,” said Chris. “Where am I taking him?”

  “Out on the terrace, Ollie?” his wife asked. “Will that be okay?”

  Oliver nodded. “That will be perfect.”

  They moved slowly through the spacious home with Chris still supporting Oliver as they shuffled along while Sandy and Valerie followed, holding each other at the waist. Under a covered portion of the terrace, they settled Oliver into a reclining lounger which Valeria had thoughtfully prepared with a number of extra cushions and pillows. While Valeria went to the kitchen to get refreshments, Chris and Sandy pulled up some chairs and they were soon all seated comfortably and ready to chat.

  “Where is your darling Isabella?” asked Sandy, referring to their three year old daughter.

  “With my sister, Sofia,” Valeria replied. “She lives close by and came to get her after the police visited last evening so I could go see Ollie at the clinic. She will keep her a day or two so he can get some rest.”

  Oliver smiled and said, “It is probably a good idea. Isabella likes to wrestle with me and, right now, I believe she would win.”

  “I’d certainly put my money on her,” said Chris, “Because you’re banged up pretty bad. What happened last night?”

  Oliver shrugged and replied, “It is not very complicated. I was at the wrong place at the wrong time and was mugged by some young punks –”

  “No, Ollie,” Valeria interrupted as her eyes brimmed with tears. “Tell them what you told me.”

  “Val,” Oliver snapped, his expression darkening. “Be quiet.”

  “I will not be quiet,” his wife retorted in anger, her tears spilling over. “Do you think this will simply go away? If you do, you are a fool.”

  “And how will burdening our friends with my problem solve anything?” demanded Oliver.

  “How will lying to them make anything better?” Valeria countered, rising abruptly and storming off into the house as Chris and Sandy watched in stunned surprise.

  “Valeria,” Oliver cried, his tone pleading. “Come back, please.”

  Turning back to him, she replied, “I will not sit there while you lie to Chris and Sandy when, for all I know, the next time I see them may be for your funeral.”

  “Uh, Oliver,” Chris stepped in. “I’m not usually one to interfere in the family matters of others but a reference to your impending funeral does cause me some concern. What’s going on, buddy?”

  Oliver gazed at him with despair in his eyes before turning back to his wife who continued to glare at him in defiance.

  “You are right, mi querida,” he admitted with resignation. “Please come sit with us. I need you close to me.”

  She returned to the terrace, offering Sandy and Chris a feeble smile as she picked up a napkin to dab her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to them, returning to her chair next to Oliver and gripping his hand. “I am frightened and worried.”

  “No need to apologize, sweetie,” Sandy replied. “We’ll do whatever we can to help.”

  Oliver raised his wife’s hands to his lips then sighed as he looked at his guests. “I can’t see how you can help but Val is right. I will tell you the truth about what happened yesterday though I fear by doing so, I will only cause you to worry.”

  “We’ll deal with that when the time comes,” said Chris. “What’s going on?”

  “I will start with what happened yesterday,” Oliver replied. “In the afternoon, I was visiting with Damian Galano, the owner and founder of the Ventura Grande. He is retired and lets me run the place but a smart businessman keeps an eye on his investments so he invites me over to chat once in a while. I left around seven and on my way back home, I was pulled over by the tourism police. I was told to get out of my car and get into theirs and, when I questioned why, they made it clear it was in my best interest to obey.

  “They took me to a vacant warehouse where a man named Pedro Gomez was waiting with two of his men.”

  “Pedro Gomez?” Chris interrupted. “The mobster?”

  “So, you have heard of him,” said Oliver. “Gomez recently took over the Paraíso de Ángeles, or Paradise of Angels, right by the Ventura Grande and two other similar establishments in Puerto Plata. He already had others in Sosua, Cabarete, Punta Cana and other popular Dominican tourist locations. These are adult-only resorts which give the term ‘all inclusive’ a whole new meaning. They are luxury bordellos where packages include escorts and believe me when I tell you that anything goes.”

  “Wow,” Sandy exclaimed. “Is that legal?”

  “Prostitution in itself is legal in the Dominican Republic,” Oliver replied. “But third parties cannot benefit financially which makes brothels illegal. However, little effort is made to enforce prostitution laws and adult-only resort owners maintain their ladies are salaried hostesses and what they agree to do with resort customers is their own business. As it stands now, Gomez owns most of them in this country.”

  “Fine, I get all that,” said Chris. “But where do you come into the picture and why did these guys beat the crap out of you?”

  “The previous owners of the Paradise were content with the customers who booked their vacation at the resort,” Oliver explained, “They ran a private and discreet operation and caused no trouble. Gomez, however, has decided to increase business through solicitation. It started with escorts walking the beach, offering sexual services to customers of other resorts, including the Ventura Grande. Then Gomez grew bolder and directed his ladies to come directly onto the resort premises in search of new clients.”

  “Aw, that’s not right,” said Sandy, shaking her head.

  “No, it isn’t,” Oliver agreed, “Especially since the women were rather blatant in their approach and attire. As you know, the Ventura is a family friendly resort and it wasn’t long before our customers started complaining.”

  “What did you do about it?” asked Chris.

  “Initially, security simply became more vigilant, escorting the ladies off the property when they saw them and asking them to stay out,” Oscar replied. “But when they kept returning, all our employees were informed this was unacceptable and were asked to report any such women to security. At that time, I contacted Gomez
and requested he keep his ladies away from our resort. He said he would but they kept on showing up so last week I called the tourism police and a few of the girls were arrested for loitering and spent a couple of days in jail.

  “I didn’t hear anything further from Gomez and a few days went by without incident so I thought he had understood I was serious. As it turns out, that wasn’t the case and, considering it was the same officers who had arrested the women who brought me to him yesterday, I doubt they really went to jail. So, my friends, that is what is really going on and explains why I would have preferred not sharing with you.”

  “That’s nonsense,” said Chris. “You’d have nothing to gain by keeping this from us. This kind of situation needs to be brought out in the open so we can deal with it appropriately.”

  “Chris, please, Gomez is a dangerous man,” said Oliver. “I do not wish you to become involved with this. It is my problem and I will handle it.”

  “Really?” Chris scoffed. “How? What’s your plan? How do you intend to fix this?”

  “I don’t know if I can fix this,” Oliver admitted. “But I do know I can make sure my family and I remain safe. With my reputation in this industry, I can find another resort elsewhere to manage. I have been approached with employment offers on many occasions. In fact, I know of excellent opportunities available as we speak.”

  Chris nodded as he scratched his chin in thought. “That’s a definite possibility and it makes a lot of sense. No need to worry about Gomez or deal with the hooker problem, you start off fresh somewhere else and keep Val and Isabella out of danger… it’s all good. What I find unfortunate is you’d be leaving what you’ve described to me as the best damned employer, job and team you’ve ever had, all because of some son of a bitch thug.”

 

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