Killing Time
Page 14
the best he had since just minutes before he hit Andy in the nose. Until she called him ugly, he had been on cloud nine with hopes of her being more than just a one night stand. He felt bad that she had paid the price for turning nasty on him, but he also felt she deserved the punch, however not her death.
He slept with an easy mind. He rose at six, had his breakfast, dressed and left for Franklin at eight. He stopped and bought four dozen of assorted doughnuts for the guys on the rig. He went to the grocer and bought four pounds of chili meat. He arrived at the Blanche Bay dock some fifteen minutes early. He sat in the truck and ate one of the doughnuts while drinking a cap full of his vacuum coffee. He heard the soothing familiar humming sound of his crew boat coming up toward the dock. He stepped from the truck, walked to the piling tie-off point ready to catch the rope when Jules threw it. He smiled at Jules who was waving at him. He wrapped the rope around the tie-off and took Jules suitcase, sat it on the pier and then pulled Jules up by the hand. He shook the hand in his hand and Jules slapped him on the back. He asked Gaston if anything exciting had happened and Gaston shook his head as he said, "Same old stuff, Jules. A dead Jeanerette and a few drinks in Breaux Bridge with Eloi and the guys. At least the work on the rigs gets exciting at times." Jules nodded and said, "That it does, Gaston. That it does. I heard about you being trapped on the toadstool. Better you than me, "and he laughed as he picked up his suitcase and headed for his truck.
Gaston loaded the supplies that the delivery van had deposited for him. He waited for another ten minutes to make certain that Jules wasn't coming back. He went to the truck, backed it to the pier, opened the cap, lowered the tailgate and drug Andy and the tarp to edge. He rolled her off the back off the truck and watched the tarp open when it hit the bottom of the boat. He stood looking at the display of her nude body. He loaded the doughnuts, his suitcase and the chili meat. He re-parked under the carport, left the truck, unwound the tie rope, threw it aboard and jumped in the boat. The engine was running so he put it in gear, turned the wheel to his right and glided into Blanche Bay. Once he was out of sight of land, he took Andy's keys from his pocket and heaved them into the deep water of Blanche Bay.
He sat his GPS for the toadstool, not the mother rig. When he slowed to tether the boat, he opened the chili meat and dropped it overboard near the small metal platform. By the time he had tethered the boat, the water was roiling with an eating frenzy over the chili meat. He lifted Andy's body, rolled her head over the side of the boat. He kissed her cheek, lifted her legs and let her gently slide into the roiling water. He sat sideways on the railing and watched as the fish devoured her until little but bone was showing. He unhooked the tether and headed for the mother rig.
Seven weeks later he and Eloi sat at their table in the cafe. Gaston was sipping his bourbon when the door opened and a blue tee shirt entered the door, stopped and searched for the ladies lockers. Gaston punched Eloi as she began walking toward them. When she passed, Gaston turned his head and watched her tight jean-covered ass go by, turned to Eloi and said, "Do you think blue shirt would like to dance, Eloi? Maybe she'll ask me."
The End
The Unearthing of a Ghost
As the traffic slowly came to a dead stop, Baye Fowler was reminiscing about her childhood as she eyed the familiar surroundings. To her surprise, Sammy's hadn't changed all that much in the five years since the last time she passed this corner. Most of the block had undergone modernization of one type or another: new facades, new entrances, different colors, but Sammy's were still Sammy's and that was worked well for them. As she mused of her past, she was suddenly jerked alert when Sammy's door opened and she felt as if she had been detonated where she sat. Straining her eyes to be certain of her discovery, she knew she couldn't have made the wrong judgment. What she had focused on was the actual image of Javier Villegas casually strolling out the door and turning left toward the Hillside Community Living Complex. Her eyes didn't lie to her, but how could a dead man have eaten breakfast at Sammy's and walk away?
When the light changed she bullied her way in front of the car to her right, forced her rental car to the curb, illegally parked, flashed her badge at the honking horns, and began to jog toward the complex where she observed him entering through the portal and disappear. She spent fifteen minutes searching the streets in the complex with no luck in sighting where he may have gone. Retracing her steps, she quickly returned to Sammy's, went in and pretended to be looking for someone. The hostess approached her and inquired as to whether she preferred a booth or a table. She shook her head and told the hostess that she was supposed to meet someone, but didn't see anyone dressed like he said he would be. She gave the hostess a pleading look and asked, "He said he would be wearing a tan golf jacket, blue-striped shirt and black pants. However, there's no one dressed like that here."
The hostess smiled and said, "You mean Jack Vines. You just missed him. He left not twenty minutes ago." Baye grinned and responded, "I just flew in and was caught up in the rush hour and arrived late. I'll give him a call and rearrange our schedule. Thanks for your help." Baye turned and stepped out to the sidewalk and stood thinking about Vines. Her thoughts ran the gamut. From, so, he's changed his name to Jack Vines using the same initials so that monograms won't trip his story. My quandary is not the name change, its how can a dead man be here walking around. After he shot me, I know for certain that I put a double tap into his chest and saw him go down, bleeding profusely. Before I passed out, he tried to rise and couldn't push himself up. So how can he walk today?
Baye returned to the car and just sat there assessing all the possibilities of what could have happened after she became unconscious. I was shot once. I know for certain he was hit twice. I also know my partner called the shooting in. Did I ever ask what had happened to Vines after I was lucid again following my surgery? I have to file it with those others things I can't recall, however, this is a priority for me. Those other minor things can wait in line. I must resolve this question and resolve it now while I'm here where he is living.
She started the car, increased her speed, foregoing her ogling the changes and remembering familiar landmarks as she sped toward her brother's home where she would finish her recovery time before returning to work. Her brother, Phil, lived in the old home place that they jointly owned. She had left here after the death of their mother eleven years ago. It has now been five years since she had last visited, not wanting to put up with Phil's drug addictions and the fights that continually developed over his excesses and waste of their inheritances. She pulled into the driveway and before she unloaded her one carry-on bag to go in, she used her cell phone to call her partner in Phoenix. When he answered, she spouted, "Josh, Baye here. I need some answers and I need them now."
"Baye, you're supposed to be rehabbing, not worrying about answers. I'll humor you for a minute of two, but get yourself well."
"Don't worry your dead ass about me, its Vines's rehab I'm concerned about at the minute. You and everyone else led me to believe that he was dead. If that's true, I just ran into his ghost here in Dallas. No bullshit, Josh. Tell me what the story with him really is as I need to rehab in peace and I can't with his walking around town."
"Okay, give me a minute to get to a private place. I can't risk being overheard telling you what few facts I know." Baye held on hoping that Phil wouldn't look out and see her in the driveway. That could create problems for her. In less than three minutes, Josh was back on the line and was softly saying, "Baye, I'm really sorry, but I was sworn to silence, so you didn't hear this from me. Swear to it. I won't go on unless you give me your absolute word of silence."
Irritated and pissed, Baye huffily replied, "Josh, I have my hand over my heart and I swear that your name will never come up if I'm caught. Is that acceptable?"
"It'll have to do, but what did you mean when you said 'if I'm ever caught'?"
"That's for me to worry over. Now, tell me about the true story of Vines and his disposition."
"You
do remember that when you spotted him on the street and decided to stop him, he shot our target before you made it to the scene. You pulled your weapon and he dropped to his knees making you assume he was surrendering, but instead, he turned and shot up at you with the armor piercing ammo. Okay so far? I called it in, but unknown to either of us; he was being watched by the DEA task force crew. When our responders arrived, Villegas had already been removed from the scene by DEA. I was holding you and was unaware of their moving him. I want you to believe me when I say that I have no idea where DEA took him."
"Okay, but where he was treated is not that important. What I need to know is what happened later."
"His connections to the cartel got him some preferred treatment by DEA, the FBI, and the U. S Marshal. To save his miserable ass, he agreed to spill it all and I mean all. He gave names, addresses, routes, distributors, pushers, and death details by who and when. He led them to where the bodies were stored. It was their jackpot. They have been quietly and efficiently taking down all those he named. When you get back to duty, we'll have a squeaky clean slate for us to keep clean. He did us a huge