We followed him in. He stopped right in the foyer and started placing a camera to point at the front door. We sort of floated around watching him awhile when Mary mentioned there sure were a lot of flies in the house. That should have been my clue.
Teresa screamed from the other room. Linda and I looked at each other. That was not a good scream. With a look of terror on her face, Mary came flying out of the room Teresa was in screaming “DEAD GUY!” She flew right past us, right through Tourey, and back outside. I grabbed Linda’s shirt sleeve, and we inched our way through the wall to where Teresa was. She was staring at a chair that was pointed away from Linda and me.
Teresa pointed, “I think we found Patterson.”
Eee Gads. Mary was peeking in the window from outside. Tourey had moved into the room we were in.
Linda said, “Do you think he knows there’s a dead body in here?”
Teresa rolled her eyes, “Yeah, but I bet he doesn’t know a car is pulling up in the driveway!” Her voice had gotten louder and faster as she watched past us through the front window.
Mary burst through the wall, “The Senator is here! Tourey doesn’t know! He has to hide!”
Linda yelled, “Mary and I will stall the Senator. You guys hide Tourey!” Linda and Mary flew through the front wall to the driveway.
Teresa and I just starred at each other. “How do we hide Tourey?” I figured we just had to draw his attention to the front window, so he could see the Senator’s car. I turned myself into a monkey and started screaming as loud as I could as I swung from the front window curtain rod.
Tourey and Teresa both whipped their heads around and gaped at me. Teresa put her hands over her head and yelled “Not a monkey!” I went back to being invisible and zapped Tourey’s memory. When he shook his head, he saw the Senator’s car, gathered his equipment, and ran toward the back of the house. Linda and Mary had the Senator’s car horn honking and car alarm screaming.
Linda and Mary flew into the room. Mary was gasping, “He’s trying to fix his car. Is Tourey hidden?” Teresa and I both nodded our heads. Linda floated up to the ceiling on the far side of the room. She had a look of pure disgust on her face from looking at the body of Patterson in the chair. I joined her.
“I was a monkey.”
“Of course you were.”
Thomas Fenley pulled his BMW over to place a call to London. Donavan Luntz, the sitting chairman for the oil consortium in LUCY, answered. OSI traced and recorded the call. Donavan Luntz was a name that so far had escaped the radar of the OSI and CIA. The agents recording the call were very much interested in what Donavan and Fenley had to say to each other. Ellen sat on Fenley’s passenger seat in the BMW. She wanted to read Fenley’s mind.
Donavan barked, “Bring me up to date.” Fenley repeated everything Thornton had told him.
Donavan told Fenley that Manio had called and informed him an emergency shipment of coke and weed needed to be brought in to New Orleans and distributed tonight. Martial law or no martial law. Manio was using Donavan’s facility and needed Donavan’s staff available for transport. With New Orleans dry, Manio figured he could raise the price of this supply and actually make money as a result of the sting.
Donavan laughed, “Manio is making more money on his dope because of this raid. Wouldn’t it be ironic if the FBI gives us what we want by accident, too? A money safe haven in the United States. I’ll check this out and call you back. Manio’s using the rig again tonight. Make sure we are left alone at the port, Thomas.”
Fenley couldn’t believe their luck either. He started making notes in a small notebook of the accounts that needed to be moved to French Quarter Bank if this was true. He would wait until Donavan confirmed before he called Manio about the money. One screw up was enough on this deal. It was bad enough Manio wasn’t getting his guns.
The OSI agents transcribed the call and forwarded it to their Director. A whale had just entered the pond. Donavan Luntz. It was becoming clear that Donavan, Fenley, Manio, and probably Thornton were all members of LUCY.
Ellen memorized the account numbers Fenley wrote down and headed for Roger. She knew what the gals were doing and decided to leave them be. She laughed to herself, a monkey?
Abram pointed down a side street as the car crawled through the traffic nightmare caused by the National Guard jeeps. “Down the end of that street, there’s where that Voodoo lady, Ms. Spicey, has her place.” Abram rubbed his chin as he looked in the rearview mirror to see if any cops were following them. “I got myself enough trouble tryin’ to figure out my new job. Don’t need the likes of her lookin’ over my every move.”
Jackson was silent as he took in the sights of the city. It had been five very long years in prison for just stoppin’ to say hey to the wrong dudes at the wrong time. It suddenly struck him that he had no money and nowhere to live. Jackson turned to face Abram, “I’m needin’ to find a place to stay. You know ‘bout anything?”
Abram honked his horn at a lady walking five dogs of various sizes all colored bright rainbow colors. She had started walking into the path of their car, and Abram yelled out the window. “Crazy bitch! Move them damn dogs!” She flipped him off. Abram commented if he had more time he would go back and shoot her.
Jackson looked out his window. This is not the life he had planned for himself. He wondered if his Momma was still alive and livin’ over on Desiree Street. She was the only family he had left. His momma being crippled and with no car, he hadn’t seen her since the day they took him to jail. Once he got settled he’d go see if she was all right.
Abram told Jackson to start payin’ attention to where they were. They were almost at the gang house. Abram started slowing down and rolled the car to a stop in front of a large white stucco building covered in graffiti.
“We need to go inside, so I can give you your orders. Then you can be on your way. Whole operation is a mess with Manuel gettin’ killed an’ all.” Abram looked at him, “You bein’ just out of jail, I’m gonna give you some money ‘head of time. Got a new cargo van you be drivin’ to snatch these kids. You best keep mindful of cops. City be crawlin’ with ‘em. Ain’t the best time for all this shit to be goin’ down, but we need the money, ya know?”
Jackson nodded and followed Abram into the building through a large heavy steel door. A group of six young men were hanging out obviously waiting for Abram. They all started shouting questions at him at once. Abram shot his gun at the ceiling to shut them up.
“You dogs gonna wait your turn. I ain’t Manuel. I talk to you one at a time, and right now my man Jackson here got my ear. Go outside and decide who gets my ear next.” The group slowly moved from the building mumbling and looking back towards Abram.
Jackson asked, “How’d you get this job anyway? No offense, but you seem a little more…. ‘together’ than those other guys.”
Abram answered, “Manuel always be my best friend. These dudes think I was number two in the chain, ya know? Just cuz I always be by his side. Really? Don’t know crap ‘bout what I supposed to do now.”
Jackson was surprised by Abram’s confession and offered, “I’m thinkin’ you best be a fast learner.”
Mambo was troubled. She paced the large room of her hut and then went outside toward the swamp’s edge. She closed her eyes and listened to the swamp’s whispers. At a decibel level too low for mortal ears, she heard a low moan, weeping, and whispers of terror from tortured souls. Mambo rubbed her amulet and asked the Spirits to free their voices. Let them be loud and clear, so she could understand. The normal sounds of the swamp ceased and the mist thickened. Dark swirls churned in the mist. Screams and pleadings from hoarse voices assaulted the air. A child’s voice urgently whispered, “Please hurry.” Mambo would need to call on all of her Spirits. There was trouble coming.
Senator Kenny finally got his car alarm to stop. He walked up the front steps of the mansion making a mental note to call his auto mechanic. The door began to open as he put his key in the lock. Patter
son must have been outside and forgot to lock up. He walked into the foyer and immediately was met by a swarm of flies. What the hell? He swatted his arms around and looked to the drawing room on the right. The flies were so thick in there it looked like a black cloud hanging low in the room. His nostrils flared at the sour stench assaulting his nose.
Rolland yelled, “Bernard? You here?” He saw the feet protruding from the end of the chair. He bent his arm to cover his nose as he inched closer. Patterson’s bloody body was sprawled across the recliner and covered with crawling flies laying their piles of glossy white eggs. He saw the bullet holes everywhere. He started to gag and ran back out of the room to the fresh air outdoors. Good Lord, what was he going to do?
Tourey heard the Senator’s car squeal away down the drive, and he went back to the job of installing his video and listening equipment. He used his phone to call Ray to test the computer feed and noticed he had a message from Spicey. After he and Ray made some minor adjustments, Tourey walked back to his car and listened to his message. Tourey frowned. Spicey said she had some information about the country house. He bet she came out here after he told her not to. This was a complication he didn’t need. He decided he would stop in and see her in person instead of returning her call.
Tourey called John Barry and told him the Senator had discovered the body but left in a rush. Probably wasn’t him who shot Patterson.
It was six o’clock at the Star Ship and promised to be a long night. There had been no progress figuring out which kids were to be abducted. They also had no idea who had been hired to do the kidnapping. If they could arrest the sicko club soon, maybe one of them would talk or have the information somewhere. Reading the missing children statistics from Tourey had everyone in a sour mood. Roger rested his head in his hands as he sat at the kitchen table at the Star Ship.
Paul walked up from the basement. “I’m thinking maybe we should tell the team to break until we call them? Been a long day, and we’re probably going to have some fun tonight when the sicko club finds out about Patterson.”
Roger looked up, “I was just thinking the same thing. I think I’ll volunteer to stay and watch the feed. We can’t miss that coming over. I can’t remember the last time Ray even left this place.” Roger stood and turned to go to the basement. He glanced back to Paul. Paul shrugged, he knew Roger was second guessing himself.
When Roger reached the basement he volunteered to watch the computer. Simon and Ray told him to leave. They were perfectly fine staying. Scotty, the bartender, was bringing them Cajun food from across the street. When Roger got back upstairs, Paul was on his phone and looking out the window to the street.
Paul put his phone back in his pocket and said, “Frank just called. The LA boys said two guys on the LA list of the sicko club died today. One was in a car accident, other appears to be a suicide. Swallowed a barrel. Said he also got an update from New York that a guy on their list was shot in a mugging. Broad daylight in the financial district. Chicago had one jump from his condominium balcony.” Paul pushed his chin forward in his nervous twitch. “Appears to be a bad day for sickos.”
Roger exhaled, “Yes it does. Want to grab some dinner?”
Jackson was petrified. Here he was driving this brand new van. Cops everywhere. He hadn’t driven in five years, and he didn’t have a driver’s license anymore. Suddenly he started laughing. It occurred to him he should be worried about getting caught snatchin’ kids a little more than being stopped for no license. Abram told him to find a place to stay for the night, get some dinner, and come back. By then maybe Abram would have found the names of the kids Jackson was supposed to snatch. He also needed the name of his contact, so they could set up the switch.
With so much money involved, Jackson couldn’t believe how disorganized this was. When Manuel got shot today, no one even questioned if Abram was the new boss. Abram said he didn’t realize it ‘til people started asking him what they should do. Crazy.
Jackson drove down Desiree Street and found the little house where his Momma had lived. He parked and walked up on the porch. It was falling down so badly he had to shift his weight as he stood at the door so as not to fall to the side. He knocked and waited.
He heard a shuffling sound on the other side of the door, and the door slowly started to open. His momma was hanging on to a metal walker and asked, “Who be there?”
Jackson couldn’t believe she didn’t recognize him, and then he noticed the gray blue of her eyes. She had cataracts so bad, she couldn’t see anymore. Jackson could feel a lump growing in his throat, “It’s me, Momma. Jackson.”
She looked straight ahead, her bottom lip quivered, “What be the name of your first dog?”
Jackson laughed, “PeeWee.”
A big smile erupted on her face and tears flowed from the corners of her eyes. “My baby. You come home.”
Abram called Judge Williams. “Look, you want this here done you got to send me all the info again! I’m tellin’ ya, Manuel got killed today, and I don’t know his computer password!”
Judge Williams closed his eyes and rocked in his chair. Jesus Christ! How hard is it to find reliable people? Abram had assured him he understood everything that was supposed to happen. He just couldn’t pull up the names and address of the kids. Judge Williams scowled and finally agreed to send the list to Abram’s computer. What choice did he have? This was Thursday for God’s sake. They only had ‘til Monday to get this all done and deliveries made.
Abram said thank you and hung up.
No more than a minute passed, and Judge Williams’s phone rang again. “Now what?”
It was Rolland. “Harold? We have a problem. I don’t care what your schedule looks like, be at the country house at eight tonight.” The line went dead. Judge Williams scratched his neck. Rolland always had a flair for the dramatic. Probably got some sort of traffic ticket he doesn’t want to talk about on the phone. The Judge exhaled loudly. Was he the last intelligent form of life left on this planet?
Tourey finished wiring up the house and left. We decided to snoop around some. The mansion was really nice. There were no signs of anything sinister there, except of course the bloody body in the living room. We decided to check out the barn. That’s when things got interesting again. Linda flew out, her hand over her mouth gagging, followed by Mary and Teresa. I’m thinking it’s not always bad to be the last one to get everywhere.
I looked at Linda, “Another body?”
She shook her head and said, “Kennels.” Huh?
Mary volunteered, “There is a row of kennels with toilets and beds in them. It must be where they put the children.”
What? I didn’t need to hear that, and I was sure I didn’t need to see it.
Teresa was fuming. “Let’s go find those dark auras. I am beyond motivated to kick some sicko butt!” Pretty much said it all for the whole group. I suspect we are the meanest looking bunch of sour faced angels right now that heaven has ever seen.
Just then Ellen popped in to join us. “Okay, let’s just take a few deep breaths and talk this out. I got an attitude alarm on you gals.”
Really? An attitude alarm?
Actually, mortals could really use those.
Teresa looked at me. “Mortals have them. They’re called horns.”
Ellen cleared her throat and smiled, “I know this is extremely difficult for all of you because you still have many mortal thoughts and emotions. You need to focus on the fact that you are angels. You must not harm mortals. Any mortals. Are we clear?” We all nodded.
I’m thinking, define harm. Long term permanent harm, or you deserve this in your face right now harm? Ellen frowned at me, “All harm. What is your next plan then?”
Teresa explained we thought we would go looking for bad auras and do some mind reading. Let our mortal thinking go to the dark side. Try to find the bad guys before they got a chance to hurt any kids. Ellen liked it. A lot.
“Do you remember the Saint you met at Mambo’s? She cont
acted me. Mambo is calling for all Saints to meet her at midnight. I think we should be there too. If I don’t see you before then, I’ll meet you at midnight at Mambo’s.”
Mary asked, “Is this like a party? Should we dress up?”
Ooooooooooo, too cool!
Ellen laughed, “Hardly. It means Mambo is asking for help.” And she was gone.
I still think I’ll wear a party dress. Maybe red.
At the field office, John Barry straightened a pile of brochures and pamphlets and placed them in a large envelope. He wanted to give Jerome some material to look at and keep Jerome focused on doing something good with his life. Mass walked over to where John stood. “I see you are cleaning out our recruitment crap for us. Are we that shorthanded on this case?”
John chuckled, “Remember the woman who was rescued out at Mambo’s? Adele Brown? Her son, Jerome, thinks he might want to grow up to be a cop.”
Mass shook his head as he walked out the door, “Sounds like a fool idea to me.”
John went to his car and noticed the National Guard was having a change of shifts. He looked at his watch and was surprised it was already six o’clock. Time was flying. His stomach growled, and he realized he needed some food. John made his way through the Quarter to the address of Adele’s tailor shop. Jerome was sitting on a side stoop talking to another kid. John smiled to himself. Jerome was a smart boy. Adele had done a good job raising him under difficult circumstances.
John parked and walked over to the boys. Jerome jumped up and ran to meet him. “Mr. Barry! Meet my friend Donny.” Jerome waved for Donny to come over and join them. John put his hand out to shake hands. He could tell Donny didn’t know what to do. Jerome leaned in, “You’re supposed to shake his hand.” Donny got a big smile on his face and shook John’s hand.
Silent Crickets: A Shallow End Gals, Trilogy Book Three Page 8