by Dakan
Chapter 38
238
Chapter 38
THE meeting place that Jeanie chose had surprised Paul. He wondered what kind of contacts she and Raff and their Crew had that they could gain access to an empty storefront so close to Mallory Square. Located between a cheap jewelry shop and a place that sold sandals, the former boutique's windows now sported white butcher paper in the windows instead of sundress-clad mannequins. The store had opened only six months earlier, but making any business work in Key West was an uphill struggle, even in a year without hurricanes.
Paul could see slivers of white light shining through the cracks at the edges where the paper didn't quite cover the whole window. Someone was home.
Chloe knocked on the door and the two of them waited, looking around the empty street for signs of life. It was 3:30 a.m., and although most of the big bars didn't close for another half hour, this part of town was typically quiet at this time of night. Paul saw one homeless person trudging along back toward Mallory Square and wondered if he might not actually be a member of Raff 's Crew. Or Isaiah's. Or Winston's. Or Eddie's. Christ, there were too many players in this game. He touched Chloe's shoulder and motioned toward the guy. She shook her head and whispered in his ear, "No, he's the real deal. I recognize him." She knocked again, louder this time.
A few seconds later they heard someone unlocking the door from the other side, and they both took a step back. The door swung open to reveal Jeanie, who smiled and stepped aside so they could come in. She was looking a lot better than the last time Paul had seen her. She wore a short denim jacket and blue jeans, with a dark green tank top underneath. She'd tied her dark hair back in a ponytail. If she was still suffering from the effects of her wound she didn't show it, as she seemed to move without pain or discomfort. But maybe she was just good at hiding her true feelings. Or maybe she was on painkillers. Or both.
"Come on in," she said, letting them walk past her as she took a moment to scan the street outside. "Is that homeless guy with you?" she asked as she closed the door behind them.
"Nope," said Paul. "He's local."
Jeanie nodded and followed them into the empty store. Paul looked around - it was a shop waiting for product, with shelves, display racks, dressing rooms and cash register all in place. There were even five naked mannequins lined up against one wall. Plenty of places to hide cameras or even people for that matter.
"I appreciate you coming out this late," Paul said. "We need to sort this whole mess out right away."
"I agree," said Jeanie. She was watching Chloe as she spoke, who was wandering around the store, poking her head into the dressing rooms. Jeanie didn't seem to like this and directed her next words straight at Chloe. "I know you and Raff have had your differences to be sure. But there's no reason we can't put that behind us."
Chloe turned to face her. "I agree. Bygones be fucking bygones and all that."
"Good," said Jeanie. "Then maybe you'll let Raff go."
"Let him go where?" asked Chloe.
"Let him go. I assume you're holding him somewhere."
Paul didn't know what Jeanie was talking about. "We're not holding him anywhere. What makes you think we are?"
"I haven't spoken to him since you and your friend in the pirate costume attacked our house."
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"Maybe he ran out on you," said Paul. "He's got a history of abandoning those who trust him most."
"You're assuming he wasn't already working for me and my husband the whole time he was with you," Jeanie said. "He was never disloyal to me."
Paul didn't quite believe her. Raff working for someone else the entire time? It didn't make any sense. He was too independent and too ambitious. She was playing some game with him here, but he really didn't want to play along. "Whatever," he said. "Point is, we don't know where he is, which is fine with me. If you're in charge, then you're the one we need to be talking to anyway."
"Fine," said Jeanie. "Then let's talk. You said you have the guy who stabbed me?"
"We do," said Paul. "And he's prepared to explain everything and make whatever amends are necessary."
"I'm sure an apology will be sufficient. He only tried to kill me, after all."
"You can work the rest out with him," said Paul. "That's between you two. What I want to talk about is how we can help each other."
Jeanie leaned back against the counter by the cash register, her arms folded across her chest. "Go on," she said.
"You're here because Eddie and Marco invited you. They told you they could let you in on a huge new scam that Isaiah is putting together. The only problem was, there was already someone else in your way - Raquel."
"Eddie never told me any names or details, but so far that's about right."
"Well, we're prepared to offer you something better - we can get you into the inner council of Isaiah's group.
A seat at the organizing table where all the biggest profits will be split. Eddie's seat at the table."
"And you have the authority to do this?" she asked. "I'm skeptical."
"As well you should be," Paul agreed. "Except we have Winston and his weight behind us, and once we turn the man who attacked you over to Isaiah, we'll have his support as well. You know Eddie. He's obnoxious. He rubs people the wrong way. He's a liability. You help me remove him from the picture, and we'll help you take his place. We keep Marco and the others on board to run the cruise ship end of things."
"When you say remove' Eddie, what exactly do you mean?"
"Well..." said Paul, looking for the right words. "I mean..."
"He means kill me," said a voice from the rear of the store. It was Eddie, emerging from the back room with three others. The first two were the other lackeys who'd been watching the back of the house. The third was the big surprise - Isaiah's wife, Amelia. "Oh shit," Paul thought. "This wasn't the plan."
"Hey Eddie," Paul said. Chloe was moving over to Paul's side. At least there was no one between them and the front door. Assuming of course that the Big Guy wasn't waiting for them out on the street. "We were just talking about you."
"So we fucking heard," Eddie replied, stepping into the middle of the store. At least he wasn't brandishing a gun. But his two mooks were both holding baseball bats. Amelia remained back near the shadows at the rear of the room, watching as events unfolded in front of her.
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Paul tried to ignore Eddie and his pals for a moment and focused his attention on Jeanie. "I assume you invited them?" he asked.
"Sorry," she said with a humorless smile. "I thought I should hear offers from both sides."
"Only one side worth listening to now," crowed Eddie. "The good guys. Unless you're happy to side with people who hide murderers in their house."
"See?" Jeanie said to Paul. "He makes a good argument."
"He hasn't made a good anything since he was shitting his diapers," Chloe said. "He's scum."
Eddie turned and called back to Amelia. "You see how much of a bitch she is? I told you! And you notice they don't even deny they've been hiding Raquel's killer all along. What did I tell you?" Amelia remained passive, saying and doing nothing but watching. Eddie turned back to Paul and Chloe. "Now, are you going to turn him over before we beat you or afterwards?"
"Why do people always want to beat something out of us with bats or clubs?" Paul asked Chloe.
"I know, right?" she said. "It's weird. It never happened to me before I met you."
"I guess I bring out the inner vandal in people."
"Not in everyone. Just in the assholes."
"Ha. Ha. Ha," said Eddie. "Very funny." He looked around the room, a triumphant, malicious grin on his face.
"Let's see how long you can keep laughing while..."
Paul and Chloe didn't wait to listen to his bullshit. They were already running for the door, slamming it open and lurching out into the street. Good thing Jeanie hadn't locked the door.
C
hapter 39
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Chapter 39
CHLOE sprinted up Front Street back toward Duval, Paul pounding along a few paces behind her. Her morning jogs were paying off, and Paul's late night gaming and drinking sessions were showing. He was puffing hard but kept pace with her step for step thanks to the training regime Sandee had been putting him through. They only had a few blocks to go, so she was confident he'd make it. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed Eddie and his boys hot on their trail, but still a good block behind them. She didn't see Jeanie or Amelia anywhere.
They crossed over Duval and kept on Front Street. A few drunks winding their way back to their hotel stopped to hoot and holler at them as they ran by, urging them to go faster. One of them threw a necklace of plastic beads at Chloe, but it sailed high above her head. Another block and they were coming up on the corner of Simonton, but before she reached the intersection, she veered hard to her right into a clean, welllit courtyard.
To her left was the locked gate that protected The Adult Experience, which sold upscale porn and sex toys along with sexy little outfits. Straight ahead was her destination: The Pirate Experience, an interactive museum and tourist trap.
She and Paul skidded to a stop at the door to the museum. She yanked it open, and Paul dove forward into the darkness. She waited with the door open, and looked back toward the street just in time to see Eddie's gang running past. Eddie was oblivious, but one of the other two saw her and shouted for the rest to stop.
Appearing to be in a panic, she ducked inside after Paul and let the door close slowly behind her.
The Pirate Experience was one of Key West's newer attractions, the brainchild of a semi-famous self-help guru who'd decided that he wanted to open a pirate museum in Key West a couple years ago. Although the connection between self-help and piracy eluded Chloe, she had to admit that he'd done a good job. Of course Key West loved its pirate stories, and so did Chloe. The museum, no doubt inspired by Disney's own multimedia buccaneer successes, capitalized on the local pirate culture and the tourists' desire to be inside somewhere with air conditioning and high tech displays.
Although small compared to something like the massive Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disney World, the museum featured the same kind of atmosphere, with fake rock walls made from hardened foam and a series of display rooms dressed up to look like the streets of some 17th-century colonial town or the interior of a pirate ship. Many of the rooms featured interactive video displays and even animatronic pirates that would act out mini-scenes of corsair history. Unlike a Disney ride, the Pirate Experience also featured a bunch of real museum artifacts, from cutlasses, cannon balls and an actual treasure chest to old maps, flags and pirate paraphernalia.
Since it wasn't normally open at four in the morning, most of the displays and robot pirates were currently turned off, and the only light came from the red glow of the emergency exit signs scattered throughout. Chloe turned to her left and ducked through one of these doors, finding herself in a dark hallway. She heard voices up ahead and moved toward them. She came to a door and swung it open to reveal Winston, Bee and Paul standing in front of four TV screens and a control panel full of switches. It was like being back at the house, only with a lot less screens and slightly more pirate shit.
"They're right behind me," Chloe said as she moved over to stand next to Paul.
"I know," said Bee. "They're at the door."
The small monitor was divided into four quadrants, each displaying a different exterior camera view. One of these views showed the front door, which Eddie was opening carefully while his two lackeys stood ready with their bats. Chloe glanced over at the other screens, which were almost completely dark. "What's up with the interior cameras?" she asked.
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"No night vision on them," said Bee. "This whole set up is really cheap. My guess is they only put in the minimum that the insurance company demanded to cover all that pirate stuff."
"Well, we'll hit the lights as soon as they get a little further in," said Paul. "Then we'll know right where they are." His hand was poised over a row of buttons, each marked with a different room name and number. They'd gotten into the museum thanks to one of their regular party guests - a woman named Yolanda who worked at the museum and the porn shop. She'd been more than happy to earn an extra $1000. From their current perch, they had control over all the displays in the museum, from the lights to the robo-pirates. If only they could make the pirates attack or something: that would be a much more straightforward plan than the one Paul had come up with. Like all of his plans, it was complicated and theatrical and a little (ok, a lot) off the wall. But when they worked, they worked brilliantly. When they worked.
They all studied the screens closely, and Chloe was able to make out a figure as it passed directly underneath one of the exit signs. Paul noticed it too and said, "Perfect." He flipped a switch on the board, turning on the lights in one of the chambers three rooms away from where Eddie and his guys were. If they'd turned the light on where Eddie was, he might have freaked out, guessing that Paul and Chloe were somehow in control of the museum. But with the light going on in another room, Eddie was more likely to assume that she and Paul and screwed up or had given themselves away. Paul's little trick seemed to work as Eddie made his way straight toward the light.
The room where Paul had turned on the light was the largest and most impressive display in the museum. It featured a re-creation of the final battle of Blackbeard aboard his flagship, Queen Anne's Revenge. Designed to recreate the deck of that famous ship, the room was the only place in the museum that didn't have any actual artifacts. Instead it featured an animatronic Blackbeard at one end, astride his poop deck with a pistol in one hand and a great, nasty cutlass in the other. His thick, course beard had the famous lit tapers in it, which glowed and smoked when the 'bot was activated. At the other end of the room was the brave English captain Robert Maynard, who would eventually behead the dread pirate. Each had a few companions, pirates and pirate hunters who were also animatronic, although not as animated as their leaders. When the room was active, it ran through a five minute cycle of movement, smoke, and sound that simulated the final battle.
Although the two robots never moved from their positions, they exchanged pistol fire and curses. Then the far wall, which usually showed a projected image of the sea and the North Carolina coast, would display a short series of video images that told the tale of this most famous of pirates.
Right now though, the room was quiet, lit by the various fake lanterns, torches and a dim glow from the projected coastal image on the wall. Chloe knew most of this from memory of the room rather than from what she could actually see. Just one black and white camera covered the room, and they could only watch it on one quarter of one TV screen. Bee was right; the security system here was cheap. She just hoped that the few additions they'd made would push them over the edge and pull them through.
On the screen she saw Eddie's group move with care into the Blackbeard Room. From their body language she could tell that they were a little freaked out or at the very least confused by their surroundings. She turned and grabbed a golf bag from the corner. It held the tools she'd need to finish her part of the job, if indeed it came to that.
"I'm going to get in position," she said.
"Be careful," said Paul, although all his attention was focused where it should be - on the screens in front of him. She watched as he clipped a microphone to the collar of his shirt.
"Scare the fuck out of them, ok?" Chloe said.
Paul tore his eyes away from the screen, smiled at her and nodded. Then she ducked out of the room and into Chapter 39
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the darkness of the museum.
PAUL knew that they could've used any number of other locations to confront Eddie, including many that didn't contain millions of dollars worth of antiques. He'd justified his choice of the Pirate Experience to the others by pointing out that the mu
seum already had security cameras and a whole video display system they could use. In fact, he was just showing off. He wanted the most impressive, disorienting location he could find. This was his island, and he'd be damned if he'd let a punk like Eddie get the better of him on his turf.
And Eddie was about to learn just how much of a home field advantage Paul and Chloe had.
Watching them on the screen, Paul had the customary wave of doubt that he always experienced at moments like this. But he'd learned to take the second thoughts in stride and even to think of them as a good omen for future success. He tapped a key on Bee's laptop and the action began.
"Hello, Eddie," he said into the microphone, which was in turn plugged into the PA system for the entire museum. His voice boomed through the halls, and he grinned as he saw all three men jump in astonishment.
The wall projection changed as he spoke, transforming from a picture of the Carolina coast to a blurry vidcap of Eddie taken from the hidden cameras they'd used to spy on him at the party. The pic showed him laughing and drunk on the couch.
They'd hidden a couple microphones in the room, including one in Blackbeard's beard, so Paul could hear Eddie's reply through his earpiece. "What the fuck?" he asked.
Paul tapped a key on the laptop again, and the screen started to display a digital slideshow of images taken of Eddie through hidden cameras. Many were from the party, but others were from the bar where Chloe had first picked him up or shots taken in the street. The three men stared at the display, obviously not sure what was going on.
"Eddie, Eddie, Eddie," Paul continued. "Did you really think you could do anything in this town without me knowing about it?"
"Fuck you, Paul," Eddie shouted at the screen. "Like I didn't know you were watching me? I knew! I just didn't give a shit. Because it doesn't fucking matter what you..."
Eddie's voice was drowned out by a wave of sound played over the speakers in the Blackbeard room that normally broadcast the sounds of a pirate battle. Eddie found himself drowned out by a recording of his own voice, played back at rock concert levels.