by D D Loomis
I shrugged. “Beggars can’t be choosers, I guess. We’ll stand by until after they’re arrested. You going to have an agent here?”
“The closest agent to you at the moment is coming from our field office in Charlotte, where I am. He’ll probably arrive after they’re arrested. Be polite, since he’s the one you’ll get information from.”
“Sounds good.” I put the phone away. “Cops’ll be here any minute. We’re to hang tight.”
Dave nodded. “Good. I was getting a sore butt just sitting here. Did I hear one of the guys we’re watching works for Franks?”
“Yeah, seems he–heads up, here comes the law.”
Three State Patrol vehicles pulled into the motel, two cops getting out of each car. Two Sheriff’s Department vehicles also drifted down the street, stopping across from us. It was forever before they eased around each corner of the second floor walkway, and approached the door. At a silent wave of the hand, the door was kicked in and two of them piled in.
An ear shattering blast had me pawing for the door knob.
Dave put a hand on my arm. “Not yet, man. We better stay out of the way. This is definitely a crime scene, now.”
The door of room 239 had blown into the parking lot, along with glass from all the windows in the building. Had the men we’d followed seen us and somehow snuck out, leaving a trap? Was this my fault? Shit.
* * *
I rubbed my eyes and glanced around the office once more. You’d think a shift supervisor would rate more than this shoebox. At least it seemed tiny with three of us in it.
“So you didn’t see anyone else enter their room?” asked Captain Justin, the balding man behind the desk. I scowled. You’d think he’d come up with different questions than the same five or six he’d been asking for the past hour. Dave and I shook our heads, not even bothering to answer this time. I didn’t dare say what I was thinking, since the tired-looking man facing us had just lost one of his subordinates. The other poor sap was still in critical condition at the local hospital.
He turned to Dave. “Let’s talk about that suspicious vehicle again.”
“Green Subaru Forester, older model. Two guys in it. Didn’t react when the explosion happened, just kept driving along at the speed limit.” Dave slouched down in his chair, trying to keep a civil expression on his face. “Did you record what I said that time, or d’you want me to say it again? God, man, I must of repeated this five times!”
Justin straightened, eyes sharpening. Before he could tear into Dave, the intercom on his desk buzzed. “Captain, you said to let you know when the FBI showed.”
He punched a button. “Thanks, Jim. They’ll be right out.” After giving us a long and searching look, he reluctantly nodded. “You can go. Just don’t let me find out…”
I stood, catching his eye as I interrupted. “If-when-we find out who did this, I’ll personally make sure you know. Don’t expect them to be alive, though.” I turned, following Dave through the doorway.
A tall, thin black man greeted us when we exited the State Police headquarters. I took his proffered hand, eyes traveling up, up his lanky frame. At least six-six. “I’m Francis, Francis Baker.”
The tall dude didn’t say a thing, even when Dave greeted him. A glance around, and he motioned towards his vehicle. “With me, please. I’ll bring you back for your vehicle after our meeting.” Four long strides and he was next to his car, unlocking the door. We hurried to catch up, me with a building frown and Dave with a nondescript look, except for his cocked eyebrow.
All was silence until we pulled out into traffic. The agent released a loud sigh. “God, I’m glad we’re away from there!” He glanced at both of us, me in the rear seat and Dave next to him. “I’m agent Long, Huett Long. Sorry for the silent treatment, but I haven’t trusted those butt-heads since they banned me from entering their HQ.”
“I hear an interesting tale in that statement, Agent Long,” I said.
He gave a deep laugh. “You could say so. Their District Commander, Major Kincaid, got pissed when he heard I was being hypercritical of his leadership style. When one of the creepoids in their office ran to him and tattled, he and I had a few words. Boils down to all interface with him on any topic is through one of his subordinates. And every word I say during a meeting I swear is recorded, so the good Major can tattle on me.”
“I’d think your supervisor would be a little unhappy with you,” Dave said.
“He would’ve been, but he’s had run-ins with the fella before I got here.” He turned into the lot of the Outback Restaurant. “Hope you don’t mind but my boss, Agent Hilyard, hitched a ride and wanted to meet you here. He hasn’t had any lunch yet.”
We were exiting the vehicle when it sank in. “Boss? Hilyard’s your boss?”
Long waved us towards the entrance. “Yeah, he’s the supervisory special agent at the field office in Charlotte.”
I hesitated before striding on. They really had wanted to keep an eye on me. By the time we reached the table Hilyard had commandeered for us, I was smiling. “Hey, Mike. What’s this about you being some kind of big cheese for the FBI?”
He leaned back with a smile. “Wish I really was. Mainly, I’m just the ops assistant for this neck of the woods.”
The disbelieving look Agent Long gave him had Dave and me laughing.
By the time we ordered, the seriousness of what had happened once more gripped all of us. “You mind giving us a rundown of what you told the State Police? This office tends to not be very forthcoming sometimes,” Mike said.
I proceeded to do so, with occasional injections by Dave. “The worrisome part is the level of professionalism shown by the men who did this.”
We paused as our lunches arrived. Agent Long had been silent during our talk so far, but looked to be getting antsy. When the waiter left, he spoke up after a glance at his boss. “Sir, I’m not sure what your relationship is with these two–may I speak frankly?” At a nod from Mike he continued, staring at me with an unnerving intensity. “Mister Baker, you’ve got a reputation with our bureau that is unsavory in parts. And quite good, in others. Why do some of our supervisors, especially back at HQ, loathe your name while others tend to think you’re the second coming?”
I perked up at that. Second coming? “Um, well, I guess the fastest way to explain would be to find out what you know about that reputation?”
He grimaced. “That’s the frustrating part. No one seems to want to share anything they know about you. Those of us who heard about you and not included in the ‘need to know’ group are puzzled, to say the least.”
I laughed, almost spitting out a mouthful of salad. “Yeh, the FBI and I go back a ways. Some not very good, and some really, really bad.”
Mike tapped the table. “Back to the here and now. This second attempted attack at Wildacres sounds like a follow up effort to capture or kill you because of your activities in Charlotte. And something more.” He turned to Long. “Tell them the information you got.”
“All three men had been killed before the tripwire caused the explosion. A simple grenade with its timer removed made for an excellent booby trap after they were done. They’d been tortured fairly extensively before dying.”
“Any particular style of torture?” Dave asked.
“Good question,” Long said. “I’d say it was done by experts. Individual nerve groups were isolated that would give the most pain, according to the doctor who examined the bodies.” He scratched his head, a mildly puzzled look crossing his face. “This isn’t Crosby’s style. She tends to just kill people and be done with it. You think she’s hired some independents to look for Willie?”
I nodded. “I’ve been getting a feeling that there’s a third party searching for him, besides Crosby and me. You think she’s tapped into another gang’s resources?”
Long gave a quick shake of his head. “Not likely. Wouldn’t
want to share the wealth if they recovered the counterfeit bills.”
“I’ve heard there are specialists for hire,” I said, taking a last bite of salad before pushing the rest away.
Mike gave a short nod. “And that’s what I’ve been thinking. Crosby’s found herself a team that’s good at extracting information.” He rubbed his neck, trying to relax. “This particular group is pretty good, too. The EOD team said the booby trap was done by real experts, not just wannabes like a lot of them are.” He turned to me. “What I’ve been wondering, is why Willie’s so hot to get his hands on you. Sure you foiled their attempt to kill Lenny, but there seems to be more involved. You got any ideas?”
I hesitated. “Not sure why Willie’d want to do more than kill me. Unless he thinks I’m somehow involved in his money disappearing.” I resisted the urge to look at Dave. Hopefully Mike bought my reasoning. Wouldn’t want him digging too deep after the money we’d scooped out of Willie’s accounts. We’d probably covered our tracks well enough, but didn’t want to test it.
Mike broke eye contact with a shake of his head and glanced at Long. “Well, I think we’ve gotten all we’re going to from these two unfortunates. Time to go chat with the State cops again. Stay close, guys, at least until tomorrow afternoon. Okay?”
“Will do.” I lifted a hand towards Agent Long. “We’ll be out in a minute, that okay?”
Dave and I remained seated as they left the restaurant at a rapid walk. “What’re your thoughts about this being a group of specialists who’ve joined the hunt?” I asked, swinging towards Dave.
“Doesn’t feel right, but I’m not the expert,” he said, tossing some money on the table as he stood with a shrug and headed out the door.
Once outside I stopped, watching the hustling bustle of traffic flowing by. My anger was still there, just buried at the moment. I wanted to kill them, just had to proceed cautiously. I started on, joining Dave and Agent long.
CHAPTER NINE
The eleven o’clock news was just tuning up when the phone rang. I hesitated, thoughts kicking in about all-knowing killers giving me a call before lowering the boom. “Damn imagination,” I grumped, picking up the phone. “Yes?”
Francis? This is Lenny.”
I breathed a relieved sigh. “Glad you called. My mind was getting too wound up. You still on the clock, or is this a social call?”
She gave a low chuckle. “You wish. No, I just got a call from Agent Hilyard. He’s on his way back to Charlotte, and wanted you to know you didn’t need to stick around anymore. Apparently nothing new’s come up.”
I stood, giving a stretch mixed with relief and fatigue. “That’s good, I guess. Why the change in plans?”
“The case moved on to new ground. Law enforcement traced the vehicle you and Dave reported to a storage yard, where it’d been stolen from. Car was spotted and pulled over. Unfortunately, the two perps escaped on foot. The locals said they’d have them in custody in short order.”
I sat back in the easy chair, staring through the TV screen. “And what’s your thought on that particular subject?”
“They’re full of it, in my opinion. If these guys are good as you and Mike think, they’re long gone.”
“My thoughts exactly. Any other news?”
“Yes, and it directly impacts you and Dave. There’s a large reward out on both of you, preferably alive. I’d suggest you dig a deep hole and jump in for awhile, at least until the heat on you lets up a bit.”
“Understood. Hey, I couldn’t convince you to come be my bodyguard, could I?”
“Uh-Of course not, that’s what Dave’s for.”
I perked up at the hesitation I’d caught in her voice. Hm, something to look into later, maybe. “Yeah, right. Spoilsport. You want us to touch base with you once in awhile?”
“Yes, give me a call about noon each day so we can share updates. Or anytime if the situation warrants. At least until all this blows over.”
“Will do. Until tomorrow.”
“Stay safe, Francis.”
I stared at the phone a few seconds before putting it down. I’d definitely felt a spark there.
Almost an hour passed before I was able to drift off, images of Lenny floating through my head.
* * *
Next day it was mid-morning when our plane took off. We’d gotten a non-stop flight to Washington, which took some of the suffering from the trip. Plus being in first class seats helped.
“This is great, man!” enthused Dave, bouncing in his seat like a little kid. “I’ve never ridden first class before. What a difference this makes.”
“You’re right, it does make a big difference. I can’t imagine going back to coach seating. Think I’d rather drive cross-country.”
Finally, Dave settled back in his seat. “You haven’t said much about the staff in your office. What’re they like?”
“Like family,” I said, smiling. “Tony Bacca and Marty Jackson were in the Army with me. We managed to save each other’s worthless hides a few times, and tend to be like brothers. When we first got out of the Army, we stuck together…”
The rest of the flight passed quickly while I regaled Dave with some of our past deeds and misdeeds. The black knot of anger buried inside eased its grip while the miles passed under our wings.
* * *
“…And this is Nathan Fisher, Alice’s brother. He came to work full-time
for us about six months ago.”
Dave shook Nate’s large hand, smile widening. “So you’re the one he talked into taking over his dirty jobs.”
Nate threw his head back in a rumbling laugh. “Hey, somebody’s gotta clean up his mistakes.”
His chocolate complexion glistened as sweat beaded his face and stained his t-shirt. Still ran a couple miles in the late afternoon, rain or shine. God, he was a muscled-up bruiser. Glad he liked me. “You can insult me all you want, just so you take over those kind of jobs. I’m not as good at pulling security details and audits as you are.”
“Long as I don’t have to leave these new digs,” he said, gesturing at the office.
I’d just informed him the space we’d shared for several months was now his, and I’d be in a smaller office next to it. “Nope, it’s all yours. Along with the headaches and responsibilities that go with it.”
The sound of a door closing brought us around. Alice, baby bump and all, came hurrying across the room. “Francis! ‘Bout time you got home.” She enveloped me in a hug, and turned to Dave with a smile. “And this must be Dave. He didn’t say much about you, except to treat you like family when you got here.” She surprised him with a hug.
“Um-yeah, hi. It’s really good to meet you,” he stammered as she stepped back. “And you’re right, Francis. She does look like Queen Latifah. Except a lot prettier.”
She laughed and gave him another hug. “Man, you’re so much nicer than the butt-face you’re standing next to.”
We moved towards her desk where she picked up a flash drive and inch-thick folder. “Here’s the information we’ve gathered so far on William Franks and Marianne Crosby. Franks seems like your normal up and coming hood, but Crosby is a different story. Not much on her from our legal sources, but lots of bad stuff from our not-so-legal contacts.”
I handed them to Dave. “You want to go through this stuff? Use the office on the left. Just be careful, the computer tends to screw up a lot.”
“Don’t you believe it,” Alice said. “Old fumble-fingers just hasn’t gotten past the fourth grade in his ability to use a computer.”
As Dave strode off, Alice hooked a finger at me. “We gotta talk about all this money you came up with.”
I sat next to her desk with a smile. “Thanks for treating Dave like that.”
She plunked into her chair. “I was hoping you’d get him out here to visit. From what you told us, he�
�s been through a lot. You can still see it in his eyes, too.”
With a mental shake, I re-focused on the paperwork blizzard we were about to start. “First of all, did you happen to get the legal forms I need to open a publishing company?”
She handed a blue file folder over. “that I did. And listed myself as the Financial Officer like you said.”
I put the file in my briefcase. “I’ll check these over and sign ‘em tonight.”
Alice turned her computer screen towards me. “As far as dividing the funds you just came up with, I’ve worked out a spread sheet we can work on.”
For the next thirty minutes we planned and plotted while moving numbers from one column to another. Finally, we came up for air.
She hit the print button on her computer. “Okay, let’s look at a summary, make sure it’s where you want the money.”
I glanced down the column of figures on the document she handed me. “Let’s see, in original money I’ve got almost two million that’s in my public account, and over seven mil in two hidden accounts. The rest is the new money. I need to have four point nine million go to Charlie and Wilbur, six and a half million to help start up the publishing company, and the rest divided six ways for you, the baby, Marty, Tony, Dave and me. That’s six point two million each.”
She shook her head. “I’d object, except you cheated and included the baby. Why d’you think we all need to share money you came up with?”
I shrugged. “We’re not only in business together, but you’re sharing the risks. Only makes sense you should get some of the reward.” I stood and gave a huge stretch. “Plus you’re the one who’s gonna be doing the hardest job, in my opinion. Making the money appear in our accounts as if it’s already been taxed.”
Marty came hustling through the door, closely followed by Tony. “Bout time you’re back,” he boomed from his six foot plus height. His dark brown face was all smiles as he enveloped me in a bear hug. “Alice’s been gettin’ tired only havin’ Tony and me to beat on.”
Tony was a stark contrast to Marty. Dark four inch hair tied back in a short pony tail, pale skin, and not quite five-nine in height. “Hear you picked up some new help along the way,” Tony said after a quick handshake. “How many times he saved your butt so far?”