Colton Banyon Mysteries 1-3: Colton Banyon Mysteries (Colton Banyon Mystery Book 20)

by Gerald J Kubicki

  “Loni and I are here on Long Island. We want in on the show tomorrow. We want Dean — he is one of mine, you know. I hope you don’t object.”

  “Well, this is fixing to be just one big happy party, isn’t it?” Gambles southern drawl came out when he was drinking.

  “What do you mean?”

  Gamble explained about the New York State Crime Commission, and the deal he had just made. Then he ordered Heinz to stay out of the way. “After this is done, you can take Dean back, but we may want him for questioning too. Do you agree?”

  “What time should we be ready tomorrow for the takedown?” Heinz asked.

  “Well, old buddy. The show starts at eight o’clock tomorrow night,” the agent replied.

  “See you then.” Heinz replied and hung up the phone.

  Chapter Eighty-One

  Professor Raymond Davies sat at his desk in his small house near the Stony Brook University campus. He was preparing his remarks for the following night. This was going to be the greatest archeological find of the century, and he would be the lucky one to announce it. He knew he would become famous as the man to authenticate the true history of the Aryan race. And Walter Pierce was even paying him for something he would have done just for the glory. This is the most exciting thing to happen to me in my life, he thought.

  “What time did you say we need to get going?” asked the small voice from behind him. The young woman who was his assistant often stayed at his house, and seemed to be very interested in his work.

  “I told you, sweetie, we are expected at the old house early. The show starts at eight o’clock sharp,” replied Raymond Davies. “So start getting ready around six.”

  When he told her about the translation of the symbols Pierce had given him, she insisted he bring her to the ceremony. What Davies couldn’t figure out was why Pierce was having him make the announcement at the old house. What did it matter? Why not do it at a museum or City Hall? Pierce had promised at least one major TV network would be present, and Davies would have the spotlight. Pierce also told him that he would need to be flexible in his presentation. There might be some unexpected happenings he had said. Davies wondered what he meant.

  He marveled at his good luck, which also included meeting his assistant. She just walked into his office on campus two years ago and asked for a job. She had proven to be brilliant, funny, and a good companion. The deep brown eyes always got their way with him too. Yeah, he was crazy about the twenty-six-year-old beauty named Maya, Maya Patel.

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  Walter Pierce was the first of the many competitors to be up and around the next morning. He stepped outside on to the patio. “What a glorious day today is! If this is my last day on earth, just give me the strength to complete my mission,” he spoke as he looked to the heavens.

  He pulled out his cell phone. He needed to confirm that his car rental would be ready. He began talking to the limousine agency. “Will you be on time?” He asked the man who answered the phone.

  “Mr. Pierce, are you sure about where you want this guy picked up and delivered?”

  “Ron, you have been my limo service for how many years now, twenty? How many times have I given you bad directions?”

  “Well, never, I think.”

  “Okay, then, just have your driver do as I have told you; I’m paying double the usual rate. It has to be exactly at eight fifteen at night sharp.”

  “Okay, you’re the boss, and we do aim to please. See you tonight. I’m going to personally handle the pickup.”

  ***

  Agent Greg Gamble’s first call was to the FBI main office in Chicago. He needed to check in with the special agent in charge, his boss. He had to be careful about what he said or the Special Agent in Charge of the Chicago area would secure a company plane, and show up to take over and steal all the credit. The FBI was nothing if not bureaucratic, and seeded with many career-minded employees. His boss was a first-string player.

  “Agent Gamble checking in,” he said to Special Agent in Charge Dodge.

  “Gamble, good of you to check in,” the bureaucrat replied. “You are spending well outside your budget limits, you realize. Are you looking for buried treasure? Ha-ha!”

  “Sir, I know we are over budget, but we have an explosive situation here. It should all get resolved tonight.”

  “Good, good, I’ll be out there on agency business. Perhaps I’ll stop by to see how things turn out.”

  “Oh,” Gamble quickly replied. “That’s too bad, sir.”

  “Why do you say that?” The desk jockey asked and sat up in his chair as he sensed a better opportunity.

  “Well, sir, the bigger and more important part of the operation is going to take place in Aurora. It is scheduled tonight at five minutes after seven o’clock. I was hoping you could help Agent Krist at that location. Our part starts at the same time or eight o’clock eastern time.”

  “Bigger part, you say? What is it?” Special Agent in Charge Dodge asked.

  “We’re going to hit the Altar of the Creator church, and several of the perpetrators’ homes at the same time. There should be some real important finds there,” Gamble offered. “Krist has all the warrants, and just needs someone senior to lead him. My guess is he will leak something to the press,” Gamble said. “Oh, well, he will have to deal with them.”

  “Gamble, you are right,” Special Agent in Charge Dodge quickly responded. “Krist needs someone to lead him. I’ll cancel my trip. I won’t let you down.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Gamble said with relief.

  “Carry on.” The phone went dead.

  ***

  Colton Banyon awoke with a start. He remembered leaving the old house around midnight. The hotel room was small but well-furnished. The Patel sisters had actually left him alone to get a good night of sleep. He had been dreaming, and his dreams were always major productions. He usually remembered them and then analyzed them to discover the root cause. He felt dreams were an expression of thoughts clustered in his mind. He knew his brain worked just fine when he slept, and he had many times assigned a task to his brain before going to sleep. Often when he woke up, he would have the solution or direction he needed.

  This dream he did not want to remember. He was a dog chasing his own tail. All the other dogs were watching, along with a dogcatcher. The problem was he caught his tail, and when he bit it, the tail had turned into the dogcatcher’s hand. Things had gone downhill from there. His cell phone was ringing.

  “Hello?” he said sleepily into the device.

  “Dad, this is Mitch. I’ve got bad news; I have to go back to Jersey this morning. The office called, and they need me right now.”

  “Bummer,” said Banyon.

  “Good luck. I had a blast. No one will ever believe me about those two women.” Banyon suddenly realized why the sisters had left him alone last night.

  “Do you need the rental car?” he asked.

  “Nope, they’re arranged a car to take me to the airport.”

  “Mitch, don’t kiss and tell, Okay. Thanks for your help. I’ll call you soon.”

  “Bye,” his son replied and ended the call.

  ***

  Walter Pierce made a few more phone calls from his lawyer’s office. “I’d like to talk to the producer, please,” he said in a crackling voice.

  “Who should I say is calling?” the receptionist responded automatically.

  “Tell him it is Walter Pierce, dear. He knows me.” There was a slight delay as the phone call was transferred.

  “Walter, how good to hear from you,” an older man spoke.

  “Will you be joining us tonight?”

  “We will be there at 7:45 p.m. sharp, just as you requested my friend. We’ll be ready for a live feed at 8:45 p.m.”

  “Splendid. You will bring that young woman, too, I assume?”

  “Well, Walter, she is our best reporter,” replied the producer of the CCN news network. “She’ll be there.”

 
Chapter Eighty-Three

  Around mid-morning, Agent Loni Chen and Detective Carl Heinz entered the hotel room belonging to Agent Gamble at the Holiday Inn. Over twenty agents were sitting around the suite, watching TV, and cleaning their guns. Loni had dressed in white shorts and a red tank top, planning to go to the pool, and hang out as soon as things were settled. Every eye in the room was on her as she glided across the room and sat down at the table.

  “Everybody, this is Detective Carl Heinz from the Streamwood Police Department. Michael Dean is one of his officers. Heinz is going to be responsible for escorting Dean back to Chicago.” No one said a word. “And this is Agent Loni Chen from the Illinois State Police Department. She is assisting Carl.”

  Almost in unison, all the men said, “Hi, Loni.”

  “Let’s get to the plan,” Heinz suggested impressed with Loni’s reception.

  “My boys and I are going to stay on the shooters,” Captain Spitaletta said. “We go where they go. If they shoot, they go down. Any questions?”

  “No,” said Gamble. He then continued, “Carl, you and Loni stay with Dean and only Dean. We have everyone else covered.”

  Heinz noticed there were twenty FBI agents and only four unknowns to take down. There would also be Walter Pierce, and probably one or two more people — a three-to-one ratio. Wish I had this kind of manpower, he thought.

  Gamble pressed on. “Otherwise, guys, we’ll use the same setup as last night. The helicopter is due in at exactly eight o’clock. Make sure to have your night-vision goggles as it will probably turn dark while we’re there.

  “Bruce, are you still going to be up in a tree?” Captain Spitaletta asked.

  “Yeah, just in case.”

  Gamble slapped his hands on his knees. “Okay, that about covers it. Any questions?” No one had any since they were all experienced operatives.

  “Good!” Loni exclaimed. ”I can get some sun at the pool for a couple of hours. See you boys later.” She got up and left.

  The room suddenly cleared, with everyone deciding to get some air by the pool. Heinz was getting pissed off now.

  ***

  Michael Dean was walking along the shore in Westhampton Beach. His mind was working overtime as he decided on the future of the Aryan race. He needed to show the world he had nothing to fear from anyone. That he was the savior. What title should I hold? Supreme Commander? How about President and Divine Spiritual Leader? No, it was too long. Maybe shorten it to Divine Leader. “God” might seem pretentious.

  He knew he would have to seize control of the membership with force. Some of his closest friends were untrustworthy. He noticed that Teddy suddenly regarded him with contempt. They would soon be dealt with, he reasoned. Then there was the question of that stupid Ula Woods. After all, he would need to be free to help the many lost females who would need comfort and guidance during his reign. And she was Black. She needs to go too, he thought.

  He considered several options for a dress code in his empire. Women, of course, would have to wear dresses at all times. Government personnel would be provided with dashing uniforms complete with boots and hats. The colors were still clogging his mind, although black was his favorite. Yes, once I have the tablet, I will start a new thousand-year reign.

  ***

  There was one additional group aiming to be at the dig site at eight o’clock that evening, Billy Brown and his friends. They hit Westhampton just before noon, grabbed some fast food, and proceeded to the beach on Dune Road. There they found a public parking lot, and made their way to the water, burning their shoeless feet in the sand. None of them had ever seen an ocean before, and they were overwhelmed by the vastness. They discarded as much clothes as they could, and waded into the moderate sided waves. The water felt cool and refreshing, but what Billy didn’t understand was that the sun, the wind and the waves were taxing their strength. It would affect their strength and reflexes, and both were important in a fight.

  ***

  At noon the Patel girls finally got out of bed. Banyon took them to a local restaurant for fruit and juices to start their day. They then begged him to take them to a secluded beach. Using the rented car, he drove them to the very western end of Dune Road. They walked along the dunes, and found a place where there was a good sandy beach. No one else was around. The place brought back memories for Banyon. He remembered in high school, the best times were at all-night beach parties, with huge bonfires, beer, and of course girls. He’d been to dozens of parties in these dunes.

  Banyon found a dune that had been cut away by the surf or the wind. It was like a small fifteen-foot-high canyon. The trio was visible only from the water directly in front of them, and that’s how the girls wanted it. As soon as they got to the spot, the twins stripped down to nothing, and plopped down on towels from the hotel.

  Banyon climbed up the dune and sat near the top. He told them he could spot anyone who might walk down the beach, and could warn the girls to cover up. Besides, he needed a respite from them.

  Banyon took his shirt off and sat down in the sand at the top edge of the large dune, overlooking the vast ocean. The breeze brushed his face, and the healing sun did its magic on his body. The pounding of the waves was soothing and helped to clarify his thinking. The surf and the wind also blocked out the chatter from the twins down below.

  Banyon felt that something was not right. He soon he realized what bothered him. He was always the stable force among his family and friends. He was the one giving advice and pushing people in the right direction. For the last couple of days, he had put everything on hold, and had become someone with whom he was not very comfortable. He knew he needed to refocus and to set new objectives in his life.

  His first priority was to gain employment, and the upcoming interview was critical to his future. Secondly, he needed to distance himself from the Patel twins. They had the uncanny ability to smother him with sex, making him into a panting idiot. He decided to tell them it was over. I’ll tell them today. He began to consider the entire weekend as some type of middle-aged rebellion, although the journey had not been all that bad. He was vindicated on the accident from the previous year, and no one was chasing him anymore. So, why am I so upset?

  His instincts told him the Patel sisters were not exactly who they appeared to be. The whole trip to Long Island was set up. And every time he attempted to learn more, they smothered him with lust. He did not know what or who was involved, but he hoped it did not have anything to do with the white supremacists, and especially with Michael Dean. He knew the FBI was looking for a guy named Walter Pierce, and the land around Banyon’s old house was owned by Pierce. They all seemed to be connected, especially when a key for the old house suddenly appeared in the sisters hands. Why was he involved?

  ***

  “Is everything ready?” Pramilla asked her sister.

  “Yes, but I hope he can’t hear us,” Previne said with a giggle as she craned her neck to look up at Banyon.

  “Sister, you worry too much. Colt is wondering why he is here. Can’t you see he is lost in thought? Otherwise, his eye balls would be on us,” observed Pramilla as she giggled her breasts.

  “He has been great fun though. Do you think he suspects anything?”

  “Yes, I believe he is starting to put it together, but it will all be over in a few hours. We have nothing to fear,” Pramilla declared.

  “When should we tell him we have already begun to move out of the condo next to him? I’m sure he will be disappointed.”

  “Are you going soft on me, Previne?”

  “No, of course not, I just think he is a decent man, and deserves the truth.”

  “Well, he will get the truth. Tonight will be soon enough. We will tell him about our move then. I wonder if he will miss our little sexual encounters? You know, if we had more time, we could have fulfilled his every fantasy, don’t you think?” Pramilla giggled as she thought about it.

  “I think I will miss them too,” responded her twin with pouted l
ips. “I actually get hot every time I think of him.

  “I think it is the marriage curse sister,” Pramilla advised her. “Colton Banyon is the model of the man grandfather was after.” Abu Patel had also put a curse on his granddaughters. It made them uncontrollably attracted to a good man. In that way he believed they would find a good man to marry. If the man resisted their flirtations, the curse made them become more sexually aggressive. It would only end when one of them married. He had no idea how it forced his granddaughters to throw themselves at some men, including Colton Banyon.

  “Well, I guess the curse is working then,” Previne replied. “I’m so horny for him.”

  “It will be good to see our sister again,” said Pramilla, changing the subject.

  “Yes, we haven’t seen her except for a few times in over two years, but her sacrifice was necessary, just like ours,” Previne giggled again. “Should we sacrifice ourselves one more time with him before we tell him? I think I need to work.”

  “No,” Pramilla quickly replied. “We need him sharp, and thinking clearly for the plan to work.”

  “Pity,” Previne replied.

  “Have you called Grandfather yet, Previne?”

  “Yes, his health is failing,” she said solemnly. “But said he will hold on for us to return so he can stop the curse before he dies. I also told him that Wolf would be coming with us.”

  “Yes, he and Grandfather have discussed more curses. Wolf wants another curse started as soon as he gets to India.”

  “But they are both so old. Will there be time to complete them?”

  “I believe these curses will run long into the future.” Pramilla explained.

  Previne was very quiet now. She suddenly sighed. “I already miss Grandfather. He has done so much for all of us, but now we will finally be able to help him complete his lifelong vendetta.”

  “You know, I wonder,” Pramilla said. “Grandfather has placed many curses. Will they stop when he dies?”

  “Pramilla, a curse must run its course unless it is stopped. Grandfather taught us that.”