by Terry Keys
“Yes, it’s being executed as we speak.”
Stacy pulled into Starbucks, and the pair went inside. She plugged in her laptop, logged on to her go-to site, and started browsing. She changed her profile to read “Sis and I looking for double-trouble tonight—any takers?”
Within two minutes, Stacy had five hits. She cross-checked each with her sex offender search engines, hoping to find a match. So far, everyone had come up clean.
A few minutes later, she had three more hits.
Hey Missy. Me and my brother Claude would love to wine and dine you two sweeties tonight. . .
“I may have something here,” Stacy said.
Stacy read Bubba’s message to Brittany and clicked over to the sex offenders list.
Hey Missy you still there?
Hey I’m here, sorry. We got lost in your photos. You boys are handsome. We need some attention tonight if you know what I mean??? You up for it?
Stacy turned the screen so Brittany could see. “Well, look at what we have here,” she said.
Both Bubba and Claude had multiple sex offender charges and a slew of DUIs.
“Real class acts, these two guys,” she grumbled.
Brittany shook her head. “These guys are pieces of shit, Stacy.”
“And probably very, very dangerous. We can’t afford to make any mistakes tonight. We’ve never tried to pull this off before. A lot could go wrong.”
Hell yeah we’re up for it. We ain’t had no sisters before. Gonna show you girls a real good time.
We can’t wait. Never been to Gulfport before, you got a spot in mind? We want to do some dancing first. That ok?
Whatever you want yall call the shots. There’s a place called Good Times on Graham Street.
We’ll find it – ten pm ok?
See you two beauties at ten.
“Now we can go to Dillard’s,” Stacy said. “We got ourselves a couple of dates.”
Chapter 35
“Well, I got it open. Are you boys going to just stand there and look at it?” De Luca said.
I pointed to the shot-up vault in front of me. “Wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but I guess it’ll work.”
I yanked the busted lock off the vault door and opened it to find . . . more paper.
“So do we stop looking at the papers in the crates and focus on these?” De Luca asked.
“Well, somebody had these locked up for a reason. Could be a will or other legal documents in here, I guess. Birth certificates and such, good find I’ll take this. Paul, why don’t you give me a hand? Let’s see if we can sort through these real quick.”
Paul and I dug through the stack but were coming up empty-handed. My head hurt and my stomach rumbled. This wasn’t manual labor, but we’d all been going strong for several days now. We’d been sorting for thirty minutes when our luck changed.
“David, I think you’ll want to see this,” Lafitte said, handing me a sheet of paper.
The look on his face told me it was going to be good.
I pumped my fist in the air. “Hot damn, Paul! Jackpot!”
“What is it?” De Luca said.
“A list, a roster of members. If this is in here, there’s got to be more. This is a great start, but I’m sure none of these ladies are going by these legal names anymore. But at least this will give us a starting point. This is golden,” I said.
I took a quick glance over the list. I didn’t need to see Lisa Crease’s or Brittany Foy’s name, but something in me really wanted to see them on paper. As expected, Marci Wingup was listed as the head honcho, with Lisa as second-in-command. Down in the members section I located Brittany’s name.
Suddenly, I stopped and looked up. “You guys smell that?” I said, turning my nose up to get another whiff.
“I don’t smell anything, but I’m fighting off a cold,” De Luca said.
“Smells like something’s on fire,” I said, concerned but not ready to panic.
“This ain’t the city, David. People still burn trash out here,” Lafitte said, laughing.
I chuckled. “Joke’s on me, I guess. Hadn’t thought about that. And you’re right; we are a long way from Houston. Let’s see what else we can find in this treasure trove and then get the hell outta here.”
We continued to sift through more papers.
“Wait! I smell something now, too,” De Luca said.
“I’ll go tell the neighbors to wait until we leave to burn their trash. Geez” Lafitte laughed. “Calm down, Houstonians.”
“Just go check it out, wise guy,” De Luca said, enjoying the moment.
I pulled out another stack of papers as Paul headed up the stairs.
A few seconds later, I heard Paul yelling something. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, so I got up and walked to the bottom of the staircase.
“Hey, did one of you guys lock this door? It won’t open,” Lafitte yelled over his shoulder.
“What do you mean? Just push it open,” I yelled back. “Put those muscles to use.”
“It’s freakin’ stuck, man. Like it’s jammed or something.”
I looked up the stairs and noticed smoke seeping in under the door.
“David, this fucking place is on fire!” Lafitte yelled.
Stacy! They were trying to burn us alive!
“David, we’ve got to get the hell out of here now!” De Luca said.
Lafitte took the stairs two at a time. He grabbed De Luca and started for the back door I’d pointed out to them when we came in.
“David, let’s go, man. Leave all that stuff. We’re gonna fucking die in here.”
I hurried back to the vault and grabbed a handful of papers that I hadn’t sorted through yet. Paul and De Luca had just reached the door. The smoke was starting to overtake the room and I was finding it harder and harder to breathe without wheezing.
“For God’s sake, David! Come on, man!” Lafitte yelled again.
I followed them, carrying an armload of papers. No way I was leaving all this behind.
Lafitte pulled and pushed on the door. “It’s stuck, David. It won’t fucking open!”
“This is no accident. We’ve been trapped in here,” I said.
Paul dropped to the floor and pulled De Luca down with him, trying to stay below the smoke. I kicked the door as hard as I could but still nothing. My chest ached. The smoke made it impossible to take a full breathe. I wheezed, and inhaled a cloud of smoke that knocked me to my knees.
“We have to find another way out,” I said, struggling to get the words out.
“De Luca!” Lafitte screamed.
De Luca had been overtaken by the smoke. She passed out and lay lifeless on the floor. We had to find a way out. Suddenly, the room was shrouded in darkness. I assumed that the fire had knocked out the electricity. By now, the rest of the house had to be ablaze. One of us needed to begin CPR on De Luca, or I knew she wouldn’t make it.
“Paul! Paul, listen to me. I’m going to get us out of here. You’ve been doing CPR for over twenty years. Take care of her.”
I took the flashlight and crawled to the nearest wall. I hadn’t noticed any windows before, but I had to try to find one. I didn’t want to die here—not like this. Paul had started CPR on De Luca; I could hear him counting the compressions. I was running my hands along the wall when I felt a sharp pain. I’d sliced my hand on something. I couldn’t see what it was, but I felt blood squirting everywhere. I yelled out in pain.
“David?” Paul called out.
“I’m okay. Keep going! Don’t stop!”
The fire had intensified. I could actually hear it raging above us. I was starting to think I might not be able to get us out of this one. Each breathe I took was shorter and more painful. Then I heard a loud noise at the back door. I thought I heard someone yelling, but it was probably just wishful thinking.
“David, did you hear that?”
“New Orleans Fire Department! Anyone in there?”
“Yes!” I yelled at th
e top of my smoke-clogged lungs. “We’re trapped in here!”
“Back away from door! We’re coming in,” a voice yelled.
I pulled De Luca and Paul away from the door and listened as the firemen pounded their way inside. The door was solid—some sort of wood—and it was taking a tremendous amount of effort for them to get in. Finally I heard it break through. The banging stopped a gust of cold air flooded the room. I felt hands grab my shoulders and drag me out. I was still clinging to a handful of papers.
“You’re okay, sir. I’m a firefighter. I’m here to help.”
“What about the others?” I said.
“We already got the other two out. They’re both going to be okay; all of you are. Let’s get you out of here.”
“Thanks. I’m sure as hell ready.”
The first responders put me on a stretcher, but I was in no mood to stay there.
“Sir, we need to look you over. Please lie down and relax.”
I did as instructed, but I was madder than I’d ever been. They had almost burned us alive! I was tired of being the mouse in this little game of cat and mouse Stacy and I were playing.
As I struggled to sit up again, I saw someone approaching me.
“Porter, relax. It’s me. Chief Davidson. I sent a couple units over to assist you after you left. Good thing I did or you’d be toast right now—literally.”
Considering the circumstances, I didn’t find his pun all that funny. But he was right.
“Thanks,” I said.
“This wasn’t an accident. Looks like someone tried to burn the place down. They were obviously trying to get rid of something and got lucky when they found you here. There’s definitely someone out there who doesn’t like you, detective.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“This have anything to do with what grandma was saying to you during the interrogation?”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with it, chief; it has everything to do with it.”
“You want to tell me what you could have done to her to piss her off so badly?”
“Long story.”
“CliffsNotes version?”
“Eighteen years old, alcohol, college, hazing, football team, sex—all of that. A really bad combination.”
“Sounds like it.”
“De Luca and Lafitte okay?”
“Yeah, they’re both fine. I’m sure you’ll all be shaken up a bit. You guys take two or three days off, and you’ll be recharged and ready to go.”
Days off? This guy obviously didn’t know me that well.
Chapter 36
Stacy and Brittany put the finishing touches on their makeup. Both of them had purchased skintight, low-cut tops, miniskirts, and six-inch heels. Stacy made sure to let everything she had hang out—and hang out a lot.
“Are you sure you know how to walk in those things, Brittany?”
Brittany laughed. “I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”
“Why are you frowning?” Brittany said.
“Why do you have those things wrapped up so tight? Let those girls out, sister!”
“Well, I don’t want to seem too over-the-top.”
“But we are, remember? We’re two sex-crazed sisters in need of an intervention. We don’t just want it; we need it. We have work to do tonight, two bad guys to rid this world of.”
The pair made a few more last-minute adjustments, and then they were off. They didn’t realize Gulfport would have so much going on. Every street corner had a hole-in-the-wall bar that was lit up and packed.
“There she goes,” Stacy said, finally spotting their rendezvous spot.
“I’m nervous, Stacy. I mean, what if something goes wrong?”
“Nothing’s going to go wrong. I know this is different and unscripted, but the only real difference is we’ll get two tonight instead of one.”
They found a parking spot and both took one last look in the mirror before Stacy led the way inside. They were shocked at how nice the place was—almost too nice. There had to be security cameras, probably several of them. It was a much larger audience than they’d hoped for. No turning back now.
“This isn’t the shit hole I expected. Let’s get these boys liquored up and out of here as fast as possible, okay?” Stacy said.
“Got it.”
They sat down at the bar and scanned the joint, looking for the brothers.
“What’ll it be tonight, ladies?” the bartender asked.
“Two Coronas with lime. No salt,” Stacy said.
Kenny Chesney’s “She Thinks my Tractor’s Sexy” was playing on the jukebox, and the huge dance floor in the center of the room was packed with twirling couples. Still no sign of their dates.
“That’ll be six dollars, ma’am.”
Stacy handed the bartender a ten and told him to keep the change.
“Do I know you?” the bartender asked.
“No, I don’t believe so. You wouldn’t forget me if you did,” Stacy said with a wink.
“I believe you’re right about that, ma’am. You ladies have yourselves a good night.”
Brittany noticed the pair first and tugged on Stacy’s arm. Both had cleaned up pretty well, from what they’d seen online earlier.
“Should we walk over?” Brittany said.
“Absolutely not. Let them come to us. They’re hunting right now.”
It didn’t take them long. “Stacy, right? Even prettier in person. I’m Bubba. Bubba West,” he said reaching for Stacy’s hand and laying a quick kiss on it.
“Wasting no time, I see, Mr. Bubba?” Stacy giggled.
“When a man knows what he wants, why does he need to waste time?”
“You must be Brittany. Hi. I’m Claude.”
He’s actually kind of handsome, Brittany thought. Shame he’ll be dead in a few hours. Might as well enjoy him now. She introduced herself with a sexy smile.
“Quite the pair, you two. What brings you to Gulfport?” Claude said.
“Just passing through. We’ve got some family in Florida,” Stacy said.
“Oh? What part?” Bubba asked.
Stacy hesitated for a second and Brittany stepped in.
“Jacksonville. Aunt and uncle.”
“You boys are behind. This is our third drink. Have you boys even started yet?” Stacy asked.
“No, ma’am, but it won’t take us long to catch up!” Bubba fired back.
“I hope not. We’ve been waiting all day for this,” Stacy said.
Bubba ordered two shots each for himself and Claude and one round for the girls.
“Here’s to a kick-ass night!” Bubba said, raising a toast.
Chapter 37
They danced to every song that was played. They even requested a few tunes of their own. The chemistry was great, and the girls knew they’d hit the jackpot with Bubba and Claude. The bar was packed now; it’d probably take a good five minutes to even get to the front door.
Stacy placed a kiss on Bubba’s cheek. “Hey, baby, we’re gonna go freshen up. Don’t leave us.”
“Leave? Hell, we ain’t goin nowhere without you!” Bubba said.
Stacy grabbed Brittany by the arm, and they weaved their way in and out of the crowd as they headed for the bathroom.
They both went into a stall and locked the door.
“We’ve had enough fun. It’s time to get the hell out of here,” Stacy said.
“Why? I mean . . . I kinda like this one.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? He’s a rapist! Or did you forget that?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. He just seems different.”
“Okay, so he’s a charming, handsome rapist. That better?”
“I get it, Stacy.”
“Good. Stay focused. Let’s grab them and head back to their place.”
They headed back and found Bubba and Claude right where they’d left them.
Stacy leaned in close to Bubba and nuzzled his neck. “We’re ready to go. Let’s go bac
k to your place and, you know, get to know each other a little better.”
Bubba perked up. “Well now, I’m sure Claude and I can make this night memorable for you.”
“Oh, it will be memorable. You can take that to the bank,” Stacy said.
The two couples ducked through the crowd and finally made it to the front door.
Stacy kissed Bubba lightly. “Brittany and I will follow you. How far away do you live? I kinda want to hurry, if that’s okay with you.”
“You don’t waste any time, do you? I live about ten minutes from here. Cozy little place out in the woods. It ain’t much but it’s mine. Hope that’s okay.”
“You have neighbors that live close? If not, maybe we can play outside some. I mean, if you’re up for it.”
A grin crept across Bubba’s face. “I’m up for whatever you throw my way, sweetheart. Claude, head for the truck. Let’s get the hell outta here now!”
Stacy and Brittany headed for their car. They heard a few catcalls as they walked through the parking lot but chose to ignore them. Stacy pulled out behind Bubba’s oversized, jacked-up truck, and they were on their way.
“Look, when we get to Bubba’s place, you just follow my lead. No more drinking. We use our special cups from here on out. We need to have our heads in the game. You with me? I need you focused until we get these country-ass hillbillies cuffed. If they decide to get violent, we end it with this,” Stacy said, pointing to her gun.
Brittany nodded. She knew Stacy was right about them being rapists, but she really liked Claude. She was conflicted about what she was about to do to him and his brother.
Ten minutes later, they turned down a dirt road and pulled to a stop in front of Bubba’s house. He was right; it wasn’t much to look at, but it would do.
“I like being out here alone. No neighbors to hear you scream tonight,” Bubba said to Stacy as he walked her to the door.
“Maybe it’s you they won’t hear screaming. Ever thought about that?” Stacy said, a cunning grin on her face.
“I’d love for you to make me scream, sexy.”
“Remember you said that.”
Bubba unlocked the front door, and everyone piled inside.
There wasn’t much to see: a tiny living room connected to an even tinier kitchen, a couch, and a table with an old-school TV.