by T. J. Jones
"Tommy just called and there's a letter he said looked suspicious. He's sending it over, and he said to call him when we know what's going on."
We stood there waiting for the next page in Jasmine's life to arrive, talking nervously about the horse and the fact that the fence was due for a paint job until a beat-up old Buick came roaring down the manicured lane and slid to a stop near us. Jarrod, Tommy Ackerman's dopey intern jumped out of the car and walked quickly over to us. He walked straight up to Maryanne Thatcher and for a moment I thought he might salute, or bow, or do something equally as stupid. He had a small packet of letters that were all tied together and he reached out with both hands and handed them to her like he was delivering a kidney.
"Mr. Ackerman said these were super important and that I should get them here as fast as humanly possible. I drove like nuts, thought I'd get pulled over for sure."
"Thank-you Jarrod, I appreciate your getting them here quickly. Drive carefully on the way back." She turned and started for the house with Maggie right behind her. Jarrod watched, crestfallen.
"What's the matter kid?" I asked. I wanted him to be gone.
"I thought maybe Jasmine would be around. I think maybe I finally worked up the nerve to ask her out."
"She's not here kid. I'd hold off for a while if I was you. Her and that Jesse kid aren't going to last. I'll give you a heads up when she's single again, okay?"
"But you said to talk to her, that it wouldn't hurt to ask."
"And now I'm telling you to wait. Go back to work Jarrod, I'm busy."
We want five million to start. Five more when you get the girl back. She's a feisty little thing but my partner is working on that. Yesterday's paper, just to prove she's alive. Check the want-ads."
There was a computer printout of Jasmine holding a newspaper up with one hand, but not the front page as I would have expected. She had handcuffs on, but her other hand was raised and she was extending a middle finger, presumably at the cameraman. She appeared to be shouting and had a large ugly bruise on one side of her face and a swollen eye.
"On a positive note, she hasn't given up." I tried. "Are we sure that's yesterday's paper?"
"It's the financial section. Jasmine knows that's all I read." Maryanne was staring at the printout of her granddaughter and her black eye. "What do they mean, check the personals?"
"Do you have the newspaper? They probably bought a small ad and want to communicate that way."
After a few minutes of searching we found the portion of the newspaper that was still set aside for want ads and personals. After a quick search we found the site on the internet as well, and all started looking at the same time. It took a while to find because it was posted under room-mate wanted, presumably as a ploy to disguise its true intent.
Maryanne, your old room-mate wants to return! Please advise here if terms are suitable. Sincerely, Missing you.
"I'll call the paper and see if we can get a name, but odds are they mailed the ad in and paid cash."
"I can call and get a reply in tomorrow's paper, set up the first payment."
I gave my opinion cautiously. "Maryanne, doing it in two payments doesn't make sense. Five million is a lot of money and once they get that, they might decide to just run for it and eliminate the witness. Sorry, but that's the reality."
"I won't do anything to jeopardize Jasmines safety, but I see what you're saying."
"Why is she holding the financial section in the photo and not the front page?"
"Most people read the financial section, Slater." Maggie said.
"I don't. Maybe that's something rich people do. My stock portfolio is non-existent. The fact that they know you do, says something about them, if only that they have an idea of what your habits might be. Jasmine's too smart to tell them anything."
"What are you saying Eric?" Maryanne asked.
"Not many people are privy to what you do in your office most mornings, right?"
"Edgar of course, but he's up in Connecticut. His sister is ill, and he would never do anything like this."
"Not who I was thinking of."
"Divine? Slater, my daughter is heartless, but that would be a stretch. Plus, I just gave her a substantial amount of money to go away."
"I was thinking of her latest boyfriend. Can we verify his whereabouts?"
"I believe he and Divine flew back to the west coast. He's booked for a few movies, such as they are."
"Okay, but double check with Divine if you can without tipping her off. If he's out there, it would be unlikely he could manage a kidnapping."
"I can have a professional out there check him out and have them make sure he's where she says he is."
"Her real Dad is a sleaze-ball." Maggie put in. "And his girlfriend was hinting really hard about needing money. She seemed bitter about her lot in life."
"I hate to say it, but they did seem pretty desperate." I agreed. "They have to be considered suspects. No hint of when the kidnappers want the first part of the money, but I'm guessing it won't be long."
"I'll arrange to have it ready. It says she's feisty, but they're working on it. That doesn't sound good, and that's an ugly bruise."
"Knowing Jasmine, she would put up a fight." I put a hand on Maryanne's shoulder. "I'd be more worried if she didn't. The picture looks like she's giving them hell."
She and Maggie both chuckled a little. "What now? I'll talk to Tommy about getting me the money, but there's nothing about denominations or anything. Five million in one hundred-dollar bills is over a hundred pounds, and it'll fill up a couple of gym bags."
"How could you possibly know that?" I wondered aloud.
"Arrogance, Slater. There was a time when I wondered what it would be like to have a million dollars, so one day I had the bank bring it to me, just to look at. It seems vain and stupid now. I'd give them every dime I have if they'd just give me Jasmine back. I need to get a reply in the paper. What should I say?"
"Maybe try to stall a little. If they want to play this game in the newspaper, we can come up with something. Maybe something like: Missing-you, No to down-payment terms, want you back right away. Maryanne. That'll let them know you don't want to drag it out. If they insist on two payments, we cross that bridge when we come to it."
"The waiting and not knowing are the worst."
"I have to think the next ad will give us more directions. It'll probably come tomorrow or the day after, and I'm sure it'll post online first. We could try to track the source of this letter, but not without a lot more resources than we have and bringing the police into it. I think Maggie and I should go to Daytona. Cletus mentioned a guy named Salazar that he knew in jail, and the fact that he knows more about Jasmine than he should. We have to consider him a possibility. I really doubt Derrick would kidnap her and expect to get away with it, unless they think they can skip the country. He's a loser, but he wouldn't hurt his own daughter. Odd that she doesn't seem to be afraid of the kidnappers, whoever they are."
"When has Jasmine ever been afraid?" Maggie laughed. It was for Maryanne's benefit and I laughed along with her.
"Alright, we'll go to Daytona tonight and see what we can find out. If everyone's where they're supposed to be, we have to presume it's someone else, someone we haven't considered yet."
"Five million dollars is a lot of motive, but like you said, how do they expect to be able to get two payments without getting caught?" Maggie asked.
"Good question. We'll just have to see what they're next communication says."
Chapter Seventeen
Maggie was holding up pretty well, and I knew keeping busy would help ease the worry that was creeping through both of us. I didn't have any experience with kidnapping. I was going on what seemed like a logical process of elimination. The kind of money Maryanne had was bound to attract unwanted attention. But there was a big leap between the occasional would be scam artist and a kidnapper. Maryanne was undoubtedly good at fending off schemes to fleece her of her fortunes, but I co
uld see she was struggling with panic in our current situation.
Hard as it was for me, I tried to make it seem matter of fact, just eliminate each suspect until the guilty party was identified, then go get Jasmine. It was fine to tell Maryanne that, but Maggie wasn't as easily fooled.
"Slater, what motivation do they have to keep her alive? It doesn't matter if she knows them or not, she's seen them and she can identify them."
"That's why I don't think we should give them any money until we make the trade. But bottom line that's Maryanne's decision."
"Why would they even want to do it that way?"
"We know there are at least two of them, so maybe they don't trust each other. If the guy that picks up the first payment runs for it, the person watching Jasmine still has her and the possibility of getting the second half. Probably a good plan from that person's perspective."
"Person, maybe not two men? You still thing Derrick and Honey are a possibility?"
"Unlikely, but that's why we're going to Daytona. If Honey's up on stage shaking it, we know she's making her money the old-fashioned way."
"You're being sexist again." She pointed out.
"Neanderthal, remember?"
It's a quick drive from the south end of Jacksonville to Daytona Beach, especially if you're riding with Maggie Jeffries.
"How the hell do you not get speeding tickets?"
"I just say I had no idea I was speeding and apologize a lot, seems like they appreciate that."
"They appreciate the way you look. The sexist thing works to your advantage when you want it to."
"Maybe, and that's probably wrong, but it's payback. Women put up with a lot of crap you guys don't have to deal with."
"I notice you don't."
"I did when I was little, and it wasn't just my father. There's always some sleaze that doesn't care how young you are. Back then it wasn't popular to call the bastards out, but you have no idea what girls are subjected to, and I mean almost all of them. You wouldn't believe the stories I've heard from other women, things that happened when they were nine or ten.
Look at Lilly Franklin. She was so afraid of her Dad and her ex-boyfriend she had to sneak out of town and let people think she might be dead rather than face them. And she was eighteen years old. Men can do things to a woman and never be held accountable. That's the real reason I started Taekwondo."
"Not all guys are predators, Maggie. Where is this coming from, did something happen to you that you haven't told me about?"
"No, but I was always afraid that my Dad might try again, maybe even rape me. It ruined so many things, always being afraid. Every day, Slater, a little girl or boy is being touched by some deviant, just because they're bigger, stronger, or older. Just because they can, isn't that your favorite saying? Right or wrong, that's where Me Too came from, women fighting back."
"That's a can of worms, but nobody should ever touch a child. There's a place for those people and it's full of hungry alligators." Overstated, but close to the way I really felt.
"And yet there are people willing to sell them, girls ten or twelve years old. How can that be?"
" From what I hear about this Dinar asshole, he's willing to sell girls or boys, any age."
"Who exactly is this monster? Is he the big shot that Davey was worried about impressing; the mystery person that Angela and he talked about that last time he was home?"
It wasn't a conversation I wanted to have with her, but as usual, I had said too much. "Probably. Rashad Dinar. We know he's the man that had Davey killed, and the man with the brothel out in the desert that Davey pulled Susan's little sister out of. It was Dinar that gave your father the ultimatum, you and Angela, or Maria and her child. Your Dad couldn't live with having to make that choice and I'm pretty sure that's why he killed himself."
"Is it possible that Dinar is involved with Jasmine's kidnapping?"
"It seems pretty amateurish for his organization. There was always the chance that Maryanne would call in the FBI, and that would have been more attention than he would want. If he took her, it isn't likely she would still be alive."
"Why is the world so full of these sick bastards, Slater?"
"We're not all that way."
"But you get what I'm talking about. It's ingrained in our culture, guys dominate and women submit. It's hard for a woman to know that the guy they're with isn't going to suddenly turn on her and become someone to fear, instead of someone they love. Most of us have seen it happen before. It's a leap of faith for any woman to trust."
"Are we talking about some women now, or you? Is this about your father, or is it about me?"
"Remember Tommy talked about us selling Dad's Lauderdale property? Well, Angela is better, and I can't live with her and Mom forever. I made an offer on a house, just a mile and a half further down Point Road to the east. I want you to look it over and see what you think." She glanced at me quickly and I misinterpreted.
"I should bring Luis over and he can have a look, he knows a lot more than I do about construction. Are there structural issues, or any sign the roof is leaking?"
"No, there's nothing wrong with the house, it's perfect. Cripes Slater, don't be so dense. I'm kind of asking you to come live with me. When you're ready. If you want to."
"So, you're willing to take that leap of faith, with me?" My face hurt, I was grinning that hard.
"Don't get a big head, but I do think you're one of the good ones. Having Jasmine jerked from our lives makes me realize that life is short, and you're definitely on my bucket list."
"You're not worried that it's too fast? Do I dare point out that we haven't actually slept together yet?"
"Slater, I've been in love with you since I was ten years old and had to pedal my bicycle half way across town just so I could ride by your house a couple times and fantasize about the day you would make love to me. I'm pretty sure we'll do fine in the bedroom."
I had to gloat. "I knew it! I knew you had a little girly crush on me!"
"I'm all grown up now Slater. Once we get Jasmine back, I'll show you what I mean."
The Doghouse. Where did they come up with these names?
Strip clubs by their very nature aren't what most people think of as being classy. During my time in the Navy I had been in a few, often as not for a birthday or bachelor party for one of my shipmates. I won't pretend that anyone put a gun to my head, I went willingly. Some of those had been upper end places with strict rules, pretty girls that didn't necessarily take all their clothes off, and sometimes there were a small number of women customers that appeared to enjoy the music and atmosphere. The Doghouse wasn't like those places, not at all.
It was early evening when we walked into the poorly lit, squalid looking building that stood three blocks from the beach on a side street. I cringed at the thought of leaving Maggie's car parked on the street, but there was no other option. We walked a hundred yards to the front door and sidestepped two homeless men that were sleeping just off the sidewalk. I think they were just sleeping, they never moved. Two women leaned against the building smoking and spared us a glance, then walked into the street when a car pulled up and rolled down its window. I had thought they might be dancers, but it was clear they were escorts, getting an early start.
Maggie glanced at them sadly. "Ever go to a prostitute when you were in the Navy, Slater?"
"If I said yes, would you make me get tested?" I bumped her shoulder. "No, I can honestly say I never did. I did date a girl in Hawaii that worked some odd hours and had a surprising amount of cash on hand. I never asked her what she did for a living."
"Sometimes I think it should be legal; then there would be no pimps beating girls up and getting them hooked on drugs, no minors forced into it by people like my Dad and Uncle, no crooked cops taking advantage of them. How old do you think those women are?"
"Not old, but they look at least twenty-one. Old enough to be legal, if what they're doing was legal."
"They couldn't do it if they d
idn't have customers."
"You're preaching to the choir, Maggie, I agree with everything you're saying." I pulled the door to the Club open and held it for her. "But the world has an annoying habit of being what it is, not what we would like it to be."
"Just saying, it's hard to look at."
"For tonight, let's just see if we can find Dumb and Skanky and make sure they're not involved with Jasmine's kidnapping."
She laughed quickly, then gave me a disapproving look. "That was mean. Accurate, but mean. There aren't that many dancers, I would think we could find them right away."
We got a table near the back and ordered beers. There were a few dozen men sitting around and half a dozen girls that were all at one table near the front. They were scantily dressed and were cheering on the dancers, probably waiting their turn on stage. As is always the case, there was a small contingent of young men with a seemingly endless supply of dollar bills and testosterone collected in a circle close to the stage, being as inappropriate as they dared while two disapproving bouncers looked on.
"I see now why I don't come to these places." Maggie complained. "Maybe if they just watched and weren't trying to stick their hands where they shouldn't, it wouldn't be so bad. This is really depressing."
One of the girls at the front spotted Maggie and wound her way back through the chairs to our table. She was pretty, had long legs, and wore a little too much makeup. She smiled happily and raised her beer.
"Hi guys. Are you a dancer, Gorgeous?"
Maggie shook her head. "No, I couldn't do that I'm afraid. One of those drunks reached in my pants like that and I'd break his fingers."
The leggy blonde laughed. "They don't mean any harm, they're just drunk and horny and they get carried away."
"I was looking for a friend of mine actually, a girl named Honey?"