My Sister's Fear

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My Sister's Fear Page 17

by T. J. Jones


  "Why are you still awake? And what's with the gun?" Her sister asked. "Angela, you weren't thinking…"

  Angela glanced at the weapon and smiled. "Pills would be my choice, you know that. No, I keep hearing noises and I couldn't sleep with Jasmine being gone. Maryanne promised she would call the second she heard anything, so I'm waiting."

  "Is the gun a good idea?" I picked it up and opened the breech, it was loaded.

  "I told you, I heard noises. And for what it's worth, I can shoot a hell of a lot better than your girlfriend, Slater."

  That wasn't saying much, but I kept that thought to myself. "Wind is picking up, that's probably what you heard."

  "Atlanta was kind of a bust, but we do have the name of someone Cletus talked to about Jasmine." Maggie said, helping herself to some coffee.

  "There, did you hear that?" The blonde looked at us. "That was something. Why aren't the security lights working?"

  I started to speak, but then I heard a definite thump, followed by a metallic sound. I yanked my gun out, walked quickly to the switch and turned the lights off.

  "Sit tight, okay? I'm going to circle the house, so stay inside. I don't want to accidentally shoot you." There was just enough light for me to see the two women nod their heads. Angela picked up the revolver from the table and she and Maggie backed against the nearest wall.

  I eased out of the front door. The front yard was illuminated by a street light, but none of the motion sensors seemed to be working. I plastered myself to the wall, feeling naked and vulnerable in the open, and slid quickly along to the corner where I had some cover from the bushes planted there. The wind had freshened, so it was possible that was all it was, but I didn't take any chances. I waited for a thirty count, peering through the darkness for anything out of place, then worked my way around the house.

  I made it to the front of the house where the pool and the slider for the deck were. At that point I was reasonably certain it was just the wind, but as long as I was there, I checked to be sure the door for the pool entry was locked. I reached for the door and the motion sensors picked that moment to start working, turning the floodlights in the back yard on and bathing me in bright light. I caught just a flash behind me and spun quickly, bringing my gun up to shoot.

  I had spent years in the Navy training with guns, running drills with stationary targets and live simulators. I had been in several live fire situations when knowing when to shoot and not to shoot had saved a life or two. The first rule involving a gun is that before you pull the trigger you make damn sure you know what you're shooting at. Instinct and alarm nearly made me forget that rule, but I pulled up short of firing and saved a life.

  The noisy intruder that I had nearly dispatched with my 9 mm had four legs, floppy ears, and a tail, which he proceeded to thump happily on the concrete. I drew a breath and laughed quietly at my nerves, then held out a hand. The dog was a large, emaciated looking Golden Lab that looked at me mournfully, then moaned and yawned nervously. He had no collar but he followed me back to the front door when I called him. I was reasonably sure he was friendly, and he sat as instructed when I opened the front door. I reached around the corner and turned the lights on. "Found the intruder." I said and called the dog softly.

  "Oh my God! What a beautiful puppy." Within a few seconds, and against my advice, Angela and Maggie had both fallen onto the floor with the scrofulous canine and were fussing over it and sharing dog kisses that had to be anything but sanitary.

  "We never could have a dog because Daddy was allergic." Angela grinned as the exuberant hound continued to wash her face. "Can we keep him?"

  "It's your house Angela." I pointed out. "I would bet if you feed him, he'll be your best friend for life. No collar, and it doesn't look like he's eaten for a week. But you probably should run an ad. He does seem well trained and he certainly isn't mean."

  "What should we call him?" Maggie asked, lost to the affections of the starving hound.

  "It's after three and I'm dog tired, no pun intended." I admitted. "Is it okay if I sleep here?"

  When I climbed into Frank Jeffries old bed just off the living room, I could still hear them laughing and playing with their new dog like they were a pair of schoolgirls. Times had changed, and that was nice.

  My phone buzzed at a little after eight. A short night, but the sun was well into the sky when I walked out to drink my coffee and call Susan Foster back.

  "Gary Jeffries wants to see you. Just you this time. He said it's urgent. It's always urgent with him lately, but he's my star witness so I have to keep him happy."

  "Toss him in a real jail for a while, he'll be begging to testify."

  "If he lived long enough. Dinar's organization finds out where he is and I won't have a witness. Can you meet me at the safe house, say ten-thirty?"

  "Sure, but I'll have to tell Maggie. No idea what it's about?"

  "None. He said he'd only talk to you."

  "Ten thirty it is then."

  The house was quiet, but I wanted to go home to shower and I had to talk to Maggie first. I tipped-toed up the stairs, intending to knock on Maggie's door. Angela pulled her door open just as I reached the top of the stairs, dressed in a housecoat and followed closely by the Yellow Lab.

  "You won the coin toss?" I asked.

  "Maggie's feeling generous, I guess. Duchess gets to sleep with me."

  "I hope you don't mean in your bed. The dog slept in your bed, didn't it?"

  "Well, he was lonely and scared. Hard telling how long he's been homeless."

  "Why did you name a male dog, Duchess?"

  "He's fixed, so it kind of works, and we like it. Go bother Maggie and quit picking on Duchess and me."

  "That dog is already spoiled rotten, I'll bet the owner won't want it back." She didn't bother responding and the pair disappeared down the stairs. I knocked softly on Maggie's door and opened it a few inches. "You awake Maggie?"

  "Yeah, come in Slater. I can't get up yet." She slid the covers back and patted the bed next to her. I climbed in and she snuggled up against me. "Any word from Maryanne yet? Once I get moving, I'll go over there and see how she's doing."

  "Nothing yet, but I have to think we'll hear today. Angela seems pretty attached to that dog already. Nice that you're not fighting over it."

  "She needs something to hold onto, a therapy pet. I got you, so she can have the Lab."

  "I hope you think you won that exchange. I don't drool, a lot." She grinned and leaned into me and kissed me for a long minute. I really didn't want to leave that bed, but I knew I had to. "Your uncle wants to see me this morning, and just me for some reason. I have to be there at ten-thirty, so I better get going."

  "Bummer. I feel safe with you here. I wonder how Jasmine is doing this morning."

  "We'll find her Maggie, no matter what it takes."

  "Okay, if you say so. Go talk to my asshole uncle and I'll go see Maryanne. Are you going to tell Susan about our situation?"

  "What do you think? I feel like that should be Maryanne's call, but she doesn't know Susan Foster. I trust her completely and she could be a lot of help."

  "And Maryanne trusts us. Still, maybe give her a call and see how she feels about it. We don't want her thinking we're not being honest with her. Maybe I'll hang around over there for moral support. Come over after the meeting if you can."

  "Yeah." I rolled off the bed. "I'll call her right after I get home and shower. See you later, okay?" A quick kiss and I headed for the door.

  "Hey Slater?" I turned back toward her. "You know I love you right? I didn't say that to Jasmine, and it would suck if I never get to."

  "She knows." I assured her. "And I do too."

  "No word, nothing at all. It's a day and a half. Is she dead?" The eldest Thatcher woman said, her voice raspy and shaking.

  "No, of course not Maryanne." I wasn't as sure as I sounded. "It's clear it's money they want, and there would be no money if they kill her. When does your mail come? I'm guessing you'l
l hear today."

  "Noon here at the farm, anything that's addressed personally. But all the business stuff goes to my office in town. Since Tommy already knows the situation, I'm having a courier deliver everything to his office first. I'm sure it will raise some hackles with my staff, but they're going to just have to just wonder for the time being. We have to keep this absolutely quiet, but I think everybody who knows realizes that."

  "I'll call Edith and remind her. She tells her housekeeper Claire everything, but she can't this time. You know Luis would never risk Jasmine's safety. But there is one more person that I think we need to bring in." I gave her a brief explanation of who Susan Foster was and of our history. "She has access to things we don't, forensics, police records, even the FBI if need be."

  "I have to trust your judgement Eric. I've never had to deal with anything like this before. Jasmine and her mother both ran off and gave me a lot of trouble, but it was trouble of their own making. Nobody ever texted me and threatened to kill them."

  "Try to relax. Maggie said she's going to come over and keep you company. I'll stop after I talk to Susan."

  I suspected Gary Jeffries was bipolar. His brother Frank had surely been, and Angela had been diagnosed years earlier. If that was the case, he was in a manic phase.

  As before he was handcuffed to a short chain and the chain was affixed to the bar that secured the back door. The previous visit he had been calm, eerily serene for a man who had just lost a brother and knew that a sniper's bullet might find him at any time. This time he was like a caged leopard, pacing back and forth as much as the chain would allow, stretching occasionally to look out the window.

  "Hoping for a rescue, or a bullet?" I asked dryly. "I think the only way you're getting out of here is in a body bag, so be careful what you wish for."

  "No idea, you have no idea." He paced again. His face was flushed and he kept pulling at his shirt sleeve. He stopped and stared at me. "You have no idea what they're capable of."

  "I know they tried to kill Frank's girl and a five-year old kid, so I'm guessing they're capable of just about anything."

  "Willing. They were willing to do that. Capable I said."

  "Explain the distinction to me. Murder is murder."

  "They were a little too sure of themselves last time, and you weren't something they planned on. They won't overlook you again." He pulled at his handcuffs and wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand. "It will be hard to protect you and the girls."

  "The girls, Angela and Maggie? Are they going to go after them so you don't testify? I thought Dinar had left the country."

  "He likes it here. He's in Algiers this week, then Dubai, but he'll be back. I can't be sure the girls are safe, not from here."

  "There is a solution. Put him in jail Gary, testify, then the girls will be safe."

  "Idiot, what did I just say." He yanked at his chain and leaned toward me, grimacing. "I said you don't know what he's capable of. Turn on the TV, turn on the news. They traffic kids out of Miami every day and blame it on the Coyotes. But the Coyotes that bring those girls in are all dead. They buy the cops and the courts, and when they can't do that, they buy the politicians. He's capable of doing anything he wants, including killing me, you, and everybody we love." He collapsed into a chair, apparently spent.

  I stared over at him. "I don't believe that you love anyone."

  "I have to get out of here." He muttered. "I have to leave."

  "You sure as hell can't leave. You're under arrest, and even if you could get away, Dinar will kill you the minute he finds you."

  "My brother and I, we weren't always this way." He could have been talking to himself or God, it was like I wasn't in the room. He seemed diminished suddenly, his shoulders collapsed and he slumped back into the chair and drew a shaky breath. For just a moment I thought I saw real emotion when he finally looked up at me. "Our father was a bastard. We were punching bags, and when we weren't, it was my Mom. That's why she killed herself, not because of Clarence getting killed in 'Nam. After she died it got a lot worse, the abuse. He had special ways to punish us, disgusting things no father should ever do to his sons."

  I didn't even want to think about what that meant. "I don't know that anyone is born bad, Gary. Some people do wretched shit just because they figure out that they can get away with it, and I guess there are a few psychopaths that don't feel anything, and then there are people like you; people who were dealt a really bad hand and don't have what it takes to find a way out. Then they become what they hate the most. I would feel sorry for you, but you knew what you were doing was wrong, no matter what your father did to you. Still, you keep getting chances to do the right thing. Now's the time to start."

  "I keep telling you, there is no right thing!" He slammed his fist on the table and the cop in the backroom stepped out to look in on us. Gary continued in a normal voice. "I have to go back. I can keep him off you and the girls as long as you stay out of his way. You need to stay out of his way from now on, Slater."

  "He'll kill you, sure as hell."

  "I have leverage over some really important people, people he needs. And he likes me, as much as someone without a heart can like anyone. I'll see nobody gets hurt when I go, even those damn dogs that Maggie's so worried about."

  "How? I'll have to tell Susan what you said."

  "Deals off then." He looked at me coldly. "If she winds up dead, it's on you."

  "You can make that happen?"

  "I can prevent it, if you keep your mouth shut. Rashad couldn't care less who dies. All those women and children mean less to him than those two guard dogs mean to Maggie. They're all just property."

  "Why am I here today? This heart to heart is great, but I have other things to do."

  "He knows about you Slater, and he sure as hell knows about my nieces. He knows about you helping Rosalyn and Dedra, and he knows you work for Maryanne Thatcher. Like I said, he is capable of anything, and right now he is willing. He says the word and a lot more people will disappear."

  "More?" Could he possibly know about Jasmine? Was her kidnapping a part of all this?

  "Like all the girls he keeps scattered around the world, gone, never to be seen again. I'm telling you, stay away from this business and keep my nieces safe. Let me deal with Dinar. It may take a while, but I'll get him."

  "All bets are off if anyone dies here."

  "I said I'll see to it. Tell my nieces that I love them."

  "Your dead, remember?"

  "Angela still doesn't know that I faked the plane crash?"

  "Better she thinks you're already dead than she finds out you were involved in what happened to Davey. I don't think Maggie is feeling too generous right now either, and she might share that fact."

  "I know it doesn't seem like it, but I do care about them both. That's why I have to deal with Dinar, so they'll be safe. My brother took the easy way out, but odds are I'll be dead soon enough too. I can see why he did it, I'm starting to relish the thought of not living with this."

  "I'm having a tough time feeling sorry for you, Gary, because I keep remembering you put Rosalyn Cabello in a cage when she was fourteen years old and sent Sandy Foster to a brothel in the middle-east when she wasn't much older. I can see where living with that would be difficult."

  "You have no idea Slater, you couldn't imagine some of the terrible things I've done." He buried his head in his hands for a moment, then looked up again. "You just keep my nieces safe, and stay away from Dinar."

  "Buy you a coffee?" Susan Foster was waiting outside for me, leaning against her car.

  "Better not, I have to meet Maggie."

  "What did Gary want?"

  "He's worried about Angela and Maggie, says anything is possible with Dinar. He wants me to stay clear of this whole business, says that Dinar knows who I am and that I helped Rosalyn and Dedra. I'm not sure if he knows about the trust we set up with Davey's money, but Dinar knows I'm the guy that killed the assassin he sent after Frank's girlf
riend. You would think he would send someone after me just for that."

  "Dead assassins don't cost him any money. He'll probably stay clear of you if you don't make any more trouble for him."

  "I have bigger problems right now, and I may need your help."

  "Starting to lose track of who owes who, but we're kind of in this together, what's up?"

  I explained everything to her, including the fact that Maryanne didn't want the police or FBI involved.

  "I can't advise you to keep law enforcement out of it Slater, but I get why you're doing it this way. I have to say, dealing with kidnappers doesn't usually go well. I'd say the main thing is to not give them anything until you know the girl is alive, then dole out any money carefully. Could be a simple exchange, or things could go to hell."

  "Other than the fact they have her and want money we don't have any details yet."

  "Any chance she could be in on it? Sounds like she's a little rough around the edges."

  I chuckled. "She is, but in a good way. Absolutely no chance, and for Christ's sake don't even suggest that to Maggie. She likes you, but that would be pushing it. Jasmine's like the kid sister she always wanted."

  "You too, it sounds like."

  "Yeah, me too. I'll call you when I know more. I have a couple of people to run down who know about Maryanne's money and might be desperate enough to try for ransom. More than a couple, but I'll call if I need help. Hopefully we'll hear something today."

  I drove down the long driveway of the Thatcher Estate and pulled up to the big house. Maggie sat on the top rung of the white fence that held the horses, so I walked over to her. Dolly, the cantankerous mare that craved the taste of my flesh was standing quietly while Maggie stroked her forehead. I risked climbing up onto the fence and was surprised when the horse nuzzled my leg without taking a bite.

  "She knows something is wrong." Maggie said, near tears again. "She can sense that something is going on with Jasmine."

  "I don't know about that, but she can tell you're upset. I've never been this close without almost losing a digit." We sat there for a while stroking the horse without talking. Not a therapy dog, but it didn't hurt. After another ten minutes Maryanne Thatcher came walking down from the big house.

 

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