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

by Gerald J Kubicki

  Now it all made sense to Colt. He reached into his pocket and took out the paper that contained his lists. He scratched one off. He also added a new entry to the list. He still didn’t know who was helping the Yakuza.

  He then sent a message back to Kim. In essence, it said that Colt believed someone was giving information to the Yakuza. He asked if Kim could keep an eye open. Also, he asked Kim to tell him if he heard from Dr. Thorne.

  His next order of business was to write one more e-mail. Loni had put together a good plan to capture the white supremacist leader Billy Bond. The FBI had bought it: They would supply the muscle and Colt would be the bait.

  He contemplated what he wanted to say and then dashed off the e-mail. “I have the locations of the money; you have the codes. For a million dollars, I will give the locations to you. I also want the man who tried to kill us at the house in Jacksonville. Bring him along. Buy a one-way ticket for him. We will meet in Chicago tomorrow night. Instructions will follow once you acknowledge this message.” He signed it Colton Banyon and sent blind copies to Agent Kriss and Loni. His work for the day was done.

  Within a few minutes, his phone rang. It was Loni.

  “I saw an e-mail from A. Kim,” she said.

  “I saw it, too. So in reality, the Yakuza didn’t care about the book at all. They were after the old men’s money all this time. They had us watched to make sure the rightful owner could not be found. When she was found, she had to be killed. They hoped that no one could connect the two murders. The murderers won’t rat out the clan,” Banyon said. “They would die first.”

  “So, what happens now?”

  “In the end, I think the Yakuza will wind up with the money,” he said. “With Sofia dead, they are the heirs. The police will never prove the cousins murdered the people for money. Both men will go to prison for some time and eventually be back working for the clan. It is a good thing we sent the waiver to Dr. Thorne.”

  “Well, there is a problem there,” Loni said. “Dr. Thorne has disappeared. No one has heard from her in two days. I called Director Gamble at the FBI and he told me to not worry about it.” She was quiet for some time. “Something is not right, Colt.”

  “It almost sounds like she was working with the Yakuza all along. She was the only one who knew our schedule, remember. I sent Kim an e-mail to notify us if she shows up to claim the book.”

  “Want to bet that she never shows up to collect the book?” Loni teased.

  “We still have a copy of the waiver, right?” he asked.

  “Yes. Should I book us for a flight to Japan?”

  “Schedule the flight for the day after tomorrow in the late afternoon. Tomorrow night is the takedown of Billy Bond.”

  “I can’t wait to pack my guns,” she replied. “I saw that e-mail, too.”

  “Loni, I thought that you were picking up clothes,” Colt remarked.

  “Uh, well, I’ve been staying at the office,” she answered sheepishly.

  “Not anymore. You get those pretty little buns home right now, or I’ll warm them up with the palm of my hand,” he ordered.

  “I’ll be right there, but you can spank me anyway. I’ve been a bad girl.” She giggled and hung up the phone.

  Chapter Ninety-Eight

  Billy sat in his office and stared at the e-mail. He wondered if it was a hoax. After all, he had gotten the codes from Banyon to start with. Something was fishy, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He knew they had been in the house and could have found the bank locations. He also knew that stupid Duggan wouldn’t have bothered to look for the locations. He liked killing, torturing, and setting fires more than he liked thinking. Jones had totally suckered Duggan with the phony safety-deposit box stunt this morning. He must have had a backup plan. Maybe this was it. It would be nice to get rid of Duggan without messing his hands. He knew he could raise a million dollars easily. This could work, Billy thought.

  Colt was in the middle of lunch when the phone rang. He picked up the phone. “Colton Banyon.”

  “You know who this is,” Billy drawled.

  “I was expecting an e-mail.”

  “Too easy to trace. This here is a public phone. Why do you want a trade? You got the codes, too.”

  “Not anymore,” Colt replied. “When someone copied my hard drive, they erased my records. I don’t have the codes anymore. Just found out today. Otherwise, I would have already been to Brazil. Oops, gave away one of the countries.”

  “I am so sorry for you, Banyon.”

  “I do, however, now have the location codes. They were in a snuffbox. Imagine that.”

  “Why do you want the man?” Billy Bonds asked.

  “You mean Duggan? We know everything about him, even that he works for you. He is kind of sloppy, though. He almost killed us. What I do with him is not your concern,” Banyon said.

  Billy was silent for a while. Then he said, “Where and when?”

  “Let’s meet at the Schaumburg train station in Chicago, at one o’clock in the morning. The parking lot is huge and it will be empty. We will meet in the middle. Make sure you bring the money and Duggan or there’s no deal.” Colt hung up. He had played Bond like a piano.

  ***

  Billy Bond had returned to his office from the coffee shop across the street where he had made the phone call to Colton Banyon. He put his feet up on his desk. He looked out the window of his high-rise office on Peachtree Street. Well I’ll be damned, he thought. Soon I’ll have enough money to consolidate all the splinter groups. I’ll make Atlanta the center of the movement. Maybe I should run for office. Mayor Bond has a nice ring to it. First, I’d better call that idiot Duggan.

  ***

  Duggan spent the rest of the day, after returning from Jacksonville, at a doctor’s office in Atlanta. He had used the man before because he didn’t ask any questions. The doctor told Duggan the eye would develop scar tissue would hinder his sight. He told Duggan to wear the eye patch for another week and then see how bad it was. The doctor cleaned up all the cuts, some of which had become infected, and put a sling on the injured arm. For the first time in several days, Duggan didn’t feel any pain. Then the phone rang.

  “What do you want now?” he growled.

  “Pack you baggies, buddy. You and me is headed to Chicago,” Bond drawled.

  “What is this about, Billy?”

  “Seems your little girlfriend and the Banyon fella have the locations of the bank accounts. Someone screwed up his computer and he ain’t got the codes now. I’m gonna buy me the locations. It’s all set up. Course, if you don’t wanna go, I’ll go by myself.”

  “Can I kill ’em?” Duggan asked, gripping the phone tighter.

  “I don’t care what you do to them as long as I get the locations. You in?”

  “I owe that bitch. I’m gonna fuck her up good.”

  “Meet me at the airport at two in the afternoon tomorrow, then.” Billy hung up the phone.

  Duggan considered that it might be a trap, but he had blood lust now. She’d taken some of his sight. He would pay her back in spades. He had friends in Chicago, too. Maybe he could kill them all and get the money for himself. He flipped open his phone.

  Chapter Ninety-Nine

  Colt was busy moving Loni into her new home. He had rented a truck and recruited his three sons to help. Most of her stuff was at Carl’s house, which posed as a problem until Loni got up enough nerve to tell him her decision. Colt made her promise to talk with Carl that morning while he went to the house with the key. She had left an hour ago to have the conversation with Carl.

  She had few things other than her personal stuff. It was all crammed into several drawers and a coat closet. They used big garbage bags to carry the loads. Banyon did the packing, as he didn’t want his sons to have the erotic pleasure that he felt when he touched her clothes. It didn’t seem right.

  They returned to Colt’s house and placed all the bags in the closet. She would have plenty of room to spread out. He was ha
ppy to have his sons around. They sat around the kitchen and talked. Using antiseptic terms, he tried to explain Loni to them. It was important for them to like her. “She is the most exciting woman I have ever met,” he said.

  “That means that she’s very hot and has great legs,” the oldest son replied.

  “Uh, she is athletic and takes care of herself,” Banyon forged ahead.

  “So you can bend her like a pretzel?” the youngest one asked.

  “I respect her brain. She is very smart,” Banyon assured them.

  “Look Dad,” the older one said. “We have met her before, remember? She’s always paid attention to you, even before your last girlfriend ran off with the pool boy.”

  Colt winced. “He was her soul mate. What could I do about that?”

  “What kinds of food does Loni cook?”

  “I have no idea if she can cook,” Colt was surprised to realize.

  “What about cleaning the house and buying groceries? Can she handle money?”

  “We have Elizabeth, the house keeper, to do that,” Banyon said. He knew it was a feeble answer.

  “The point is that you haven’t been too successful with relationships for about a decade now. You tend to base your relationships on emotion only and ignore any shortcomings. We just want you to be happy,” his youngest son said.

  Colt was starting to worry. His sons knew him very well. They appeared to be ganging up on him. He wondered if he had been blinded by the passion he felt for Loni. Did he just see the side of her he wanted to see? Before he could form a reply, the front door opened and he could hear the click of her heels on the floor. She was headed to the kitchen where they stood.

  She rounded the corner and stopped a few feet from the counter. A huge, bright-white smile was on her face. She was wearing a traditional Chinese dress that clung to her shape and cascaded all the way to the floor. A thigh-high slit in the dress accented her every move. Her hair was in a bun piled high on top of her head. She had used chopsticks to secure the mass. She wore deep red lipstick and carried a serving tray stacked with small white cartons and a tiny tea set.

  “I thought perhaps you would like me to serve you lunch,” she spoke in her singsong voice.

  She was the perfect hostess. She doled out the food, poured tea, and made sure everyone was included in the conversation as they ate. She then cleaned off the plates and threw them into the sink.

  “Shall we talk now?” she asked, waving them into the den. She sat next to Colt on the couch. She didn’t beat around the bush. “I have loved your father since the day I met him. We both were in different relationships then, but that allowed us to become best friends first. I am not a gold digger or a nut case. My goal in our relationship is to learn how to keep your dad happy. I will respect him and all of you. Unlike my predecessor, he is my soul mate. I hope that over time, you will come to like me, too. You can say anything to me and can ask me anything that you want.” She then sat with her hands on her lap and her head bowed.

  The first question came from the youngest Banyon. “Do you have any young sisters or nieces?”

  Then the floodgates opened. Her answers were straightforward and open. She displayed great skill in responding and the patience of a saint when Banyon’s sons asked about their physical relationship. Soon, they were all joking and talking about the future. Colt couldn’t have been happier.

  When it got dark, she told them she and their father had to work that evening. She shifted on the couch for the first time in hours and crossed her legs. The slit in the dress fell open and revealed a long, beautiful leg. The boys got the hint and jumped to their feet to leave, promising to come to a pool party and barbeque on Sunday afternoon. She implied that she would invite some young girlfriends.

  Chapter One Hundred

  The FBI, with its usual attempt at efficiency and thoroughness, had set up an observation post in the Schaumburg Flyers baseball stadium. The structure dominated the east side of the parking lot it shared with the railroad station. The parking lot was huge. Two snipers with night vision goggles and radios kept the control center informed of any activity. The two men had been at their post since dusk. The snipers noted that six cars were still in the lot at eleven o’clock at night. The train had already delivered its last commuters for the evening. All was quiet.

  Loni and Colt sat on benches behind the command center. She was dressed in black. Her hair was tied in a ponytail and a huge gun rode on her small hip. Colt wore shorts and a golf shirt. He did not expect to be anywhere near the line of fire, if it came to that.

  They were both given microphones and ear receivers to help communicate with the FBI. Agent Kriss and six men were undercover near the single entrance to the parking lot. They would close off the only exit after Billy and Duggan arrived.

  The parking lot was an ideal place for an ambush. The stadium stood as an impenetrable fortress to the east. Swampland bordered the lot to the west and the sunken railroad tracks from the commuter line blocked any getaway to the south. To the north was an eight-lane entrance and exit road and twenty-foot-high noise-abatement hills. Agent Kriss and his men crouched in the shadows near the top.

  The plan was fairly simple. When the men entered the lot and parked their car in the designated spot, Colt would call Billy on the cell phone. He would be in plain view near the stadium. Loni would be with him. Colt would give the two men instructions and get Billy and Duggan to admit to killing Hal Jones. Once the exchange was agreed upon, Loni would place the snuffbox, minus the list, on the tarmac and grab the bag of money. Then Colt would duck behind a well-positioned car. On his signal, Loni would draw her weapon and cover Duggan. The FBI would swoop in and capture the supremacists. Everything was planned.

  Colt turned to Loni. “You were incredible this afternoon with my three sons. They were really impressed, especially with your straightforward approach.”

  “Like father, like son, Colt,” she replied. “In many ways, they are a lot like you. Besides, you know me well enough. That was really me.”

  “Even the Chinese hostess?” he hoped. He did however, wonder how she had shown up dressed for the occasion at exactly the right moment. Was she a witch?

  “That was meant to get their attention. I’m not very domestic. You need to know that, okay?”

  “But you will do that again for me, right?

  “Colt, I will dress in any outfit you want and play any role you want. All you have to do is ask. I love to please you. Of course, you may have to go to the store with me to pick out exactly what you want.”

  Colt was already thinking of the possibilities. “Will you be able to handle the pool party on Sunday?”

  She laughed at that question. “I know about six Chinese girls who would love to get a shot at your boys. They will do all the work, but you had better keep your eyes on me.”

  ***

  At five minutes to one o’clock. Colt heard a voice in his ear. “A car is approaching,” one of the spotters said. They all rushed to take up their positions. The car circled the interior of the lot and finally parked in the numbered spot Colt had given them. The headlights stayed on but the engine went silent. Two doors opened and Duggan and Billy Bond spilled out. Duggan carried a briefcase. They walked to the front of the car and stood defiantly in the headlights.

  “Where are you, Banyon?” Duggan roared.

  Colt dialed the number of Billy’s phone. He and Loni stepped out from behind the parked car as the phone rang. They were also in the headlights, about forty feet from the two men.

  Billy answered. “How we gonna do this?”

  “Bring the bag halfway between us and put it on the ground. Then step back,” Colt said.

  “Sure. And then your little rabbit can run and grab it and scamper off into the night. No doing. Have her walk out at the same time and put the box on the ground, just like Duggan will.”

  “Agreed,” Colt said. “You know this should have been unnecessary. There was no need to kill Hal Jones.” He no
dded to Loni and she started walking to the spot.

  The FBI started to pile out of the stadium unnoticed and Agent Kriss and his men already blocked the exit. They just needed the confession.

  “Well, you see it’s like this,” Billy replied. “We ain’t real good at sharing.”

  Duggan and Loni arrived at the designated spot and Duggan put the bag on the ground. Loni was a little nervous, but put the snuff box on the ground by the case. Duggan stood over her. He was huge and scowled at her. Her job was to draw her gun and cover Duggan until reinforcements got there. But she had to wait until Colt gave the signal.

  “You and me, we’re going to play punching bag later, and I’m the boxer,” Duggan threatened. He seemed totally unafraid, as if he was waiting for something.

  “Hope you like the color orange. You’ll be wearing it soon.” She forced more bravado into her voice then she felt.

  “We are taking Duggan with us. He did kill Jones, didn’t he?” Colt baited Bond.

  “He killed him and shot at you both. I’m kind of glad he missed. I won’t have to kill him myself. You can take him whenever you want.” The smug lawyer replied. “Just let me get the snuffbox before you shoot him.” Billy began to waddle towards the snuffbox.

  Colt shouted, “Now!” Everyone with an ear receiver heard the signal, including Loni. She immediately drew her gun and pointed it at Duggan.

  “Get on the ground, you scumbag,” she ordered. He didn’t comply and grinned at her. The FBI was pouring out of the stadium and Agent Kriss and his men were sprinting from the exit area. Everything seemed manageable until Duggan showed her his cell phone and pressed a button.

  Billy’s rental car exploded. Billy was lucky enough to be partway to the snuffbox, or he would have died. Duggan had planned for him to be by the car. The blast threw him off his feet. He landed face down in a puddle, momentarily distracting Loni.

  With incredible speed, Duggan snatched at the gun. Loni had both hands on her weapon, but he was too strong and he wrenched it from her. He managed to grab her hair and pulled her to him. A huge hand strapped her to his chest as he used her for body armor, her feet dangling. She struggled to free herself, but he had her hands pinned to her sides. He put the gun to her head.