“Lately? Well, you buried some of it.”
He grinned and nodded.
“I’ve been, as Alice puts it, a trouble magnet for as long as I can remember. For some reason, people come to me for help. Or maybe I just fall into their path. Who knows, but I like helping people. My dad drilled this concept of justice in my head. Sometimes, like now, I feel like I have to find it.
“This girl, Naomi, may be long gone. I never really knew her. I mean, not at all. Barely knew her father. But I don’t think I can let it go.”
Malcolm responded, “Sounds like you are a good person. There is a need for more people like that.”
“I never considered myself to be a good person,” I said. “In fact, far from it.”
“People would say that about Mama, too. She is though. Sounds to me like you are too,” Malcolm said. “Maybe you should look into helping more people.”
I shook my head as he followed the Toyota off the interstate. Bryant turned north and followed the street. We were on the edge of the suburbs. This area had exploded in population over the last 15 years. If we went south towards the Mississippi/Tennessee border the neighborhoods were designed with the same cookie-cutter, builder-grade houses that pop up with fancy names like Hidden Farms or Village of South Meadows. The way we were going though was north, and that direction was filled with older estates on large tracts of land that were constructed when this area was considered rural country.
“Where’s he going?” I asked aloud.
Malcolm slowed the car to a stop as Bryant pulled into a gated subdivision. The Four-Runner stopped at a guard shack before proceeding into the neighborhood. Malcolm looked over at me with a questioning look.
“Think we can get in there?” I asked.
“I doubt it,” he said. “This is one of those neighborhoods where the owners pay a lot of money so that no one rings their doorbell.”
“Guess it keeps the Jehovah's Witnesses at bay.”
Malcolm perked up. “We could grab a pizza and pretend to be a delivery.”
“No,” I said, “doesn’t matter now. We don’t know which way he went in there. We’d have to scour every street to find his car.”
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Malcolm said.
“Don’t be. How could we know?” I assured him. “Besides, we aren’t even positive that he’s involved, yet.”
“What do we do then?” he asked.
My arms folded across my chest as I sighed. That was a good question.
16
Malcolm had agreed to stake-out the gated community until Bryant left. Leo picked me up, and I gave him a quick rundown of what my next move was going to be.
While my gut was telling me that Bryant was involved, we had no concrete evidence to indicate that. Everything I suspected was circumstantial, and while I cared more about finding Naomi than bringing Bryant to trial, I wanted to be sure we weren’t wasting time chasing the wrong quarry.
Mama had told us everything she might know, and none of it gave us the answers we needed. That left us with only a few options. We could go back to Manning, but right now, I was worried that he’d shoot us before we made it into the door at Roxie’s. Leo disagreed. He said I was underestimating us. He was certain that we’d make it through the door and halfway to the bar before he shot us. Although, in truth, he only figured I would get shot. He never underestimated himself. Since I was more than a little worried that he was right, I thought of a different approach.
We were sitting in Leo’s truck in a gas station parking lot caddy-cornered to the Siesta Motel. There was some rule about detectiving that said when all else fails return to the scene of the crime. If it wasn’t a rule, then it should be, I thought.
The closest thing we had to a witness to Nathan’s murder was the Siesta’s owner, Bandhul Tak. Tak, though, was sitting behind two-inch thick bulletproof glass in an office. Leo and I came to the same conclusion. If we went in there to talk to him, he would have no great reason to tell us anything. In fact, he might call his de-facto benefactor, Elon Manning. That would put us back in the unenviable position of giving Manning an opportunity to have us shot.
Instead, we waited. Tak wouldn’t stay inside all day. He had a business to run. The rooms had to be cleaned between hourly guests. Sheets changed. At least, I hoped that sheets were changed.
“Are you sure he is coming out?” Leo asked after the second hour passed.
“It’s the middle of the afternoon. The hotel doesn’t seem to have a booming business right now. Eventually, he will leave the office to do something.”
“He’s probably asleep,” Leo said.
“I’d be happy to wait in my car so you could go do something else, but, wait, my truck was totaled.”
Leo’s phone buzzed in the cupholder. He snatched it up.
“Yeah,” he said.
He listened for a second and then looked at me. “Bryant left and is now at the precinct downtown.”
Sighing, I said, “Okay, tell Malcolm, ‘Thanks.’”
Leo relayed the message.
“Wait,” I said, “Ask him if he’d like to help some more.”
Leo asked and nodded to me that Malcolm was happy to help. Apparently, he was enjoying our company. I took the phone and gave him a plan. I was thinking of doing something quasi-legal, and by that, I mean completely illegal. Leo would be on board with whatever I said, but I wanted Malcolm to know the stakes before he agreed.
He reminded me that his career path had always been quasi-legal. I was beginning to enjoy his company as well.
Twenty minutes later, Malcolm’s black Lexus pulled up in front of the Siesta Motel’s office. He stopped in the middle of the driveway, blocking any car from entering or leaving the Siesta Motel’s parking lot. He got out of the car, leaving the engine running. As soon as he shut the door, he began to make several exaggerated gestures of frustration. Then, he leaned against the car exasperated.
A few minutes passed, and I got out of the truck and crossed over. Malcolm glanced up as I approached.
“He been out yet?” I asked.
“Nope,” Malcolm said.
From the corner of my eye, I saw some movement, a man in khakis and collared button-down shirt walked out of a room halfway to the end. A skinny, white girl got into a Buick in front of the room the couple just left. The man eyeballed the Lexus and, then, looked at the office. He moved past us into the office, where I guessed he was checking out.
A few seconds later, he came back out. He looked at the Lexus blocking his exit. He wanted to ask us to move. Now that the deed was done, he wanted to be away from this depraved place. Unfortunately, some asshole in a Lexus was blocking him in the parking lot.
He didn’t say anything. This wasn’t an area of town that someone like him could comfortably confront someone else. He wasn’t in his element, and the last thing he wanted was to draw any extra attention to his recent encounter.
He got into his Buick and backed out. As if that was going to signal to Malcolm to move his car.
“Think he’ll sit there long?” I asked.
Malcolm chuckled. “Yeah, he doesn’t know what else to do.”
Ten minutes passed, Malcolm didn’t move. We talked back and forth, making pointless gestures toward the car.
The passenger side door of the Buick opened, and the skinny girl finally got out. She arched her back and walked past us.
“Can’t you guys move?’ she snarled.
“Locked the keys in,” Malcolm said.
“You blockin’ everybody,” she said.
Malcolm shrugged.
The skinny girl looked at me. “You lookin’ for a date?”
Offering a smile, I said, “Not today.”
She curled her lip. “Why you wastin’ my time?”
“You work here much?” I asked her.
“Not really,” she lied.
“Were you around Saturday night?”
Her eyes cut toward the sky while she considered the questi
on. “Some of it.”
“Hear about the guy getting killed here?”
“Oh, yeah. That was sick. Heard he OD’ed or something.”
Pulling a twenty from my pocket, I handed it to her discreetly. “Know what girl might have been with him when it happened?”
She snatched the twenty like a hungry dog going after a cookie.
“I’ll give you $200 if you find out who it was,” I said.
Her eyes lit up. “Oh, it was me. I thought you might be cops.”
“No,” I said, “I want the actual person.” I handed her my number.
She sneered at me.
“I mean it,” I assured her. “$200.”
She walked toward the street.
“What is going on here?” an accented voice questioned.
Turning, I saw a tubby-looking Indian man step outside of the front office. Tak, I presumed.
“Locked my keys in the car,” Malcolm offered.
“You are blocking my driveway. My customers want to get out.” He flailed his hand toward the Buick, still idling across the parking lot.
“I can’t get in,” Malcolm insisted.
“Call a locksmith,” Tak ordered.
“He did,” I said.
“Yeah,” Malcolm added, “we’re waiting on him.”
Tak stomped toward us. “Break a window. You have to move.”
“Don’t you touch my window,” Malcolm exclaimed.
“I’m going to call a tow truck,” Tak stated as he came up behind the Lexus.
“Give us a few minutes,” I said.
“No, you are causing a scene. My clients want privacy. You have him trapped in here.”
The trunk popped open, and Tak turned his head in awe as if he hadn’t seen anything like that before.
“How did that happen?” he asked.
Malcolm pulled a key fob out of his pocket. Tak’s face turned red as he pointed angrily. Leo, who had been moving up behind Tak from the street, grabbed his arm. My hands wrapped around Tak’s other arm. Together we shoved Tak into the trunk.
Leo pressed one hand against him, holding him to the floor of the trunk. With his other hand, he pulled Tak’s phone from his pocket. When he released Tak, Malcolm slammed the trunk shut.
All three of us looked up at the Buick, whose driver stared as we kidnapped Tak.
“What about him?” Leo asked.
Malcolm gave the man a small wave and touched his ring finger in the process. “He doesn’t want to be here anymore. I think he’ll rush home and stay far away from this end of town for a bit.”
“Let’s go,” I said, and I slid into the front passenger seat of the Lexus.
“Wait,” Leo said, and we walked closer to the Buick. He pulled his phone out and took a picture of the shocked john.
“We’re going now,” he called to the man. He turned back to us. “That should keep him nervous.”
While we were waiting on Malcolm, Leo and I found an old warehouse that had a loading dock that wasn’t visible from the street. The building had been vacant for years, and there were no signs of security beyond a chain-link gate with a rusted padlock. Leo removed the padlock and left the chain wrapped for appearance before we returned to the Siesta Motel.
When the three of us pulled up, Leo bounded out of the back seat and swung the unlocked gate open. By the time he had closed the gate, Malcolm was parked in the small alcove by the dock.
From his checkered military past, Leo was the most experienced in interrogation. As such, we acquiesced this part of the plan to him.
“Make him wait”, Leo advised.
We left Tak in the trunk for an hour. We found a set of steps leading to a door that had gone so long without being opened that vines had crept from the cracks in the concrete to stretch across the frame.
We sat silently for that hour. Tak banged on the lid of the trunk for the first fifteen minutes non-stop. Then, he slowed to a short burst of kicking and thrashing every five minutes or so. Likely, he was attempting to get free, and his frustration levels peaked with an outburst.
When he figured we left him stewing long enough, Leo motioned with his head for me to go talk to him.
“Bandhul,” I said loudly. “Are you okay in there?”
Tak released a string of profanities that were designed to scare me into releasing him.
“Bandhul,” I said again. “Don’t be rude. We don’t have to talk now.”
Another round of curse words came from the trunk.
“Let me rephrase,” I said. “If you don’t act polite, I’ll fire three shots into this trunk. Hopefully, they won’t kill you.”
This time I was answered with silence. I glanced at the others. Leo gave me an approving smile and a thumbs up.
“That’s better. I just want to ask you some questions.”
Still silence.
“I know you work for Elon Manning,” I said.
“No,” he said loudly. “I don’t work for him.”
“Fine, do you work with him.”
“No.”
“Bandhul, I’m not the police. They don’t generally throw you in a trunk and threaten to shoot you.”
The trunk remained silent.
“I know that Manning has you on a leash. Stop me if I’m wrong.”
Nothing.
“Who checked the guy in Saturday night that died?”
Tak didn’t answer.
“Bandhul,” I said in a sing-song tone, “this is the point where you answer.”
“I don’t know.”
“Were you working that night?”
He didn’t answer. I looked at Leo who jumped to his feet and motioned for Malcolm to pop the trunk. The lid released and raised slowly. Tak scrambled for the daylight, thinking his freedom was close. Instead, Leo grasped his shirt and yanked him out of the trunk in one quick motion. Tak howled in pain as his shin scraped across the lip of the trunk.
Leo threw the little man into the wall. Tak cowered in front of the former Marine.
I asked again. “Were you working that night?”
Tak nodded behind his raised hands.
“When did he check in?” I asked again.
“I don’t know,” Tak said.
Leo lunged at him, and he screamed, “I really don’t. After eight.”
“Did he check in alone?”
Tak’s eyes cut to me and back to Leo. “I can’t tell you.”
Leo moved closer to Tak.
“Bandhul,” I said, “we don’t mind hurting you.”
“He’ll kill me.”
Leo pulled him to his feet. I walked closer to Tak. “Manning?”
Tak didn’t say anything.
“The cop?” I asked.
This time I knew the answer when his eyes widened.
“Was it Bryant?” I asked.
Tak shook his head violently. “I don’t know his name. There were two of them.”
Leo pulled Ocansey’s license from his pocket and showed it to Tak.
“Yeah, him.”
Leo took his phone and pulled up an image of Bryant from the news story on the big human trafficking bust.
Tak nodded fiercely. “He said he’d kill me and my wife.”
“Won’t Manning protect you?” I asked.
“Not from him.” Tak trembled. “He said it was too much heat. Just to do it.”
“Those two brought…”I began to use Nathan’s name but stopped. I continued, “the guy in?”
“I never saw. The cop came and asked for the key. He said to stay in my office.”
Malcolm asked, “Did Manning tell you they were coming?”
Tak nodded. “He told me to turn the cameras off. He was doing someone a favor.”
Leo gave me a look that asked if I wanted anything else.
Tak begged. “They’ll kill me if they find out.”
“We aren’t going to tell them anything,” I assured him.
“What are we going to do with him?” Malcolm asked.
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“Bandhul, do you see this man?” I asked pointing at Leo.
“Yes,” he stuttered.
Blood and Roses Page 11