by Al Lamanda
I was at the table with a glass of milk. “Ask them,” I said.
The deputies yanked them to their feet, frisked them and found a set of lock picks, but no weapons.
“Who the fuck would want to rob your dump, Bekker?” Jane said.
“Ask them,” I said.
* * *
We sorted it all out in Jane’s interrogation room. The two stooges, minus the one who got away, were a small time B&E crew. They usually worked homes and apartments after they scouted them for alarms and dogs.
Both had long records that were about to get longer.
Their story was as follows: they usually scout their own jobs, but a man approached them at the bar they use for a hangout and offered them five thousand dollars to ransack his trailer.
“His trailer?” Jane said.
“That’s what he said,” the man I hit first said. “His trailer. He said it was an insurance thing.”
“He said ‘take everything of value and burn it,’” the second man said.
“He paid you in cash?” Jane said.
“Yeah, cash,” the first man said.
“Did you get his name?” Jane asked.
“He called himself Bekker,” the second man said.
“Just Bekker?” Jane said.
“That’s what he said,” the second man replied.
“What did he look like?” Jane said.
“Maybe six-foot-two. He wore sunglasses and a wool hat,” The first man said. “And the bar was dark.”
Jane looked at the two deputies against the wall. “Book them, then call the PD office and have them arraigned in the morning.”
Jane and I went to her office.
“You pissed somebody off, Jack,” Jane said. “Now is a good time to fill me in.”
“Are you asking as the sheriff or as my lady?” I said.
“As the sheriff it’s my job, as your lady it’s my concern,” Jane said.
“The answer is I have no idea,” I said.
Jane stared at me. “Three clowns are hired to rob and burn your shithole trailer and you have no idea?” she said.
“None.”
Jane sat behind her desk and lit a cigarette. “Lucky for you I was pulling a double today, because I’m too damn tired to kick your ass up and down the hallway,” she said.
“So you’re not holding me?” I said.
“I’ll hold you later when I see you,” Jane said.
I nodded and turned to the door.
“Nice Kimber, by the way,” Jane said.
“It was a gift from Walt for my birthday a few years back,” I said.
* * *
The sun was up by the time I returned to the trailer. A gift bag was on my chair. I picked it up and removed the tissue paper.
I pulled out the quart bottle of Ballantine’s seventeen-year-old scotch from the bag and looked at it.
In the sun, the liquid glowed a deep amber.
It was an alcoholic’s best friend. The mother load of scotch.
Also in the bag was a little card with a handwritten note. Have I got your attention yet?, the note read.
I opened the cap and took a sniff. The aroma was glorious. One sip and I’d be back to square one.
I walked down to the water and poured out the entire quart. Then I rinsed the bottle in salt water and carried it back and tossed it into the trashcan.
I looked at the note again.
Have I got your attention yet?
I entered the trailer, made some coffee and sat at the table. “Yes,” I said aloud. “You’ve got my attention.”
My cell phone rang. It was Regan.
“Yes, hon,” I said.
“Dad, Aunt Elizabeth and I are going to the mall,” Regan said. “Do you want to meet us for lunch?”
“I have a few things I’m working on, sweetheart,” I said. “I’ll stop by the house later tonight.”
“Okay, later then,” Regan said.
I sat at the table for about an hour, working details over in my mind. Where did I slip up and alert Reed?
Who else but Reed could it be, and what was his next move?
Obviously, he knew he’d been hacked, and the three stooges he hired was a shot across the bow.
The bottle of scotch was his way of letting me know he’d done his homework.
As they say in the old murder mystery novels, the game was afoot.
Except that now the game was by Reed’s rules, and I was no longer in control.
Exhaustion claimed my logic and I went to my bedroom and sprawled out on the bed still fully dressed.
* * *
Three hours later, I woke up and stumbled to the kitchen. The coffee in the pot was cold and stale, so I made some fresh and while it brewed, I went to the bathroom.
I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and took a good look in the mirror.
Where did I screw up? What was my mistake? How do I correct it?
I returned to the kitchen, filled a mug with fresh coffee and sat at the table. I glanced at my phone. Jane had called. I called her back.
“We picked up the third stooge about an hour ago,” Jane said. “I’ll be off at five and can be there by five-thirty.”
“I have to go out,” I said.
“Back when?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay Bekker, what’s going on?”
“Jane, just trust me,” I said.
“To do what?”
“Just… trust me,” I said.
I heard Jane sigh and exhale cigarette smoke at the same time. “Alright, but you call me later.”
“I will,” I said.
I hung up and then the world imploded.
Chapter Forty-one
While I was sitting there at the table, sipping coffee, wishing I had a cigarette and trying to figure out how to reattach my head to my neck, the damndest thing happened.
The computer and monitor turned itself on.
I stared at the monitor.
I hadn’t touched anything and yet it had turned on.
Then came the kick to the gut.
I was suddenly looking at the face of Yann Michael Reed on the monitor.
He smiled and said, “Why, Mr. Bekker, you look like somebody just pissed all over your mama’s grave.”
I stared at him.
“Got your attention yet?” Reed said.
“Yes,” I said.
“Good.”
Reed paused to light a thin, brown cigarette. “Nasty habit,” he said. “I understand you’ve just recently quit.”
“Yes,” I said with the feeling in my stomach that Reed knew everything there was to know about me.
“By the way, did you enjoy the scotch?” he said. “I figured you being such a whiskey priest and all would appreciate a really fine scotch.”
“I poured it out into the ocean,” I said.
“Pity,” Reed said. “After so many years of drinking, it must be really boring being sober all the time.”
“It has its moments,” I said.
I kept my questions to myself. Reed was enjoying himself far too much for me to ruin his mood. If I pushed, he might shut off.
“In case you’re wondering, and I know you are, if you’re going to hack a hacker, it’s not wise to fall asleep and leave yourself logged in,” Reed said. “It opens up a really large can of worms.”
The monitor split in half. Reed was on the right, and a video of Wally sleeping at the table showed on the left.
“It didn’t take me long to find out who sleeping beauty is,” Reed said. “Wallace Sample, heir to Sample Ice Tea. What do you think would happen if this video went public?”
I remained silent.
“Don’t like that video,�
�� Reed said. “How about this one?”
Wally vanished and was replaced with Jane, naked and writhing on my lap in the kitchen.
I closed my eyes.
“Upset your sensibilities?” Reed said.
I opened my eyes.
“What do you think would happen to the career of the county sheriff if this tape went viral?” Reed said.
“You made your point. Now turn it off,” I said.
Reed filled the monitor again. “Now, let me tell you what I want,” he said. “I want Captain Grimes to plead guilty in open court tomorrow and take the plea deal. If he doesn’t, his wife and your daughter will never be heard from again.”
The monitor screen split again and a dark image of Elizabeth and Regan appeared. They were bound and gagged.
“Ah, you got to love the mall,” Reed said. “So many people and nobody ever sees a thing.”
“Please don’t hurt my daughter!” I shouted.
“Anymore than you already have?” Reed said. “I got to tell you, this is one fucked up kid you got. The screaming, not to mention she tried to beat her head against the wall. Thank goodness the captain’s wife was there to comfort her.”
“Please. Anything you say, just don’t hurt her,” I said.
“Ah, the submissive dog at last,” Reed said. “Ever observe two male dogs meeting for the first time? They circle and sniff each other and then one submits to the other. One gets down in the submissive position and then just like that, it’s over. One dog always quits. The alpha dog always wins.”
Reed filled the screen again.
“What do you want me to do?” I said.
“First, get Captain Grimes to agree to the plea agreement and I’ll release his wife,” Reed said.
“And my daughter?” I said.
“She’s my insurance policy,” Reed said. “I will be leaving the country, permanently. I want your assurance my accounts won’t be fucked with for seventy-two hours, and your daughter will be returned safe and sound. Agreed?”
“Yes.”
“You have two hours,” Reed said. “Call me at this number. It’s a disposable cell phone, so it can’t be traced.”
I wrote the number down on a slip of paper.
“No cops, no FBI, just you,” Reed said. “Or you’ll never find the bodies. Go, little doggie, go.”
The monitor went dark.
I jumped up, grabbed my keys and cell phone, and raced out the door.
In the car, I called Carly. “No questions,” I said. “Get Kagan and meet me at my house right away. I’ll explain everything there, but hurry. There isn’t much time.”
“Time for what?” Carly said just as I hung up.
* * *
“He’s got my wife?” Walt said. “How the fuck does he have Elizabeth and Regan?
We were in the backyard with Carly, Kagan and Oz.
“Walt, there isn’t time to explain,” I said.
“The guy who framed me kidnapped Elizabeth and Regan?” Walt said. “Is that what you’re telling me? And I got to plead guilty to a crime I didn’t commit to get them back? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Walt, calm down,” Carly said.
Walt glared at me.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“You’re sorry? You’re fucking sorry?” Walt said.
“Walt, we don’t have time for this,” I said.
Walt lunged for me and threw a punch with his right fist. I sidestepped it and looked at Walt as he spun around.
“You son of a bitch,” Walt said and swung a haymaker at me.
I ducked and stepped back.
“Fuck,” Walt said and charged me like a bull.
He hit me low and pushed me backward.
“Walt, stop!” Carly shouted.
“He ain’t gonna stop,” Oz said.
Walt punched me in the stomach, screaming as he drove his fist into my gut.
“Walt, stop!” Carly screamed again.
“Bekker, put him down, man,” Oz said. “He ain’t gonna stop.”
I took a step backward and launched a right uppercut to Walt’s chin that snapped his head back, and then I followed through with a right to the jaw that ended it.
I caught Walt before he hit the ground, and gently set him onto a chair at the patio table.
Oz, always ready, handed Walt a glass of water.
Carly sat beside Walt. “Are you okay?”
Walt glared at me. “No thanks to this asshole,” he said.
“Call him all the names you want later, but right now, you have to decide on saving your wife and Regan,” Carly said.
“Of course I’ll take the plea,” Walt said. “What man wouldn’t save his wife and a young girl?”
Carly looked at me. “Make the call.”
I punched in the number Reed gave me and he answered on the third ring.
“He’s agreed,” I said.
“Of course he’s agreed,” Reed said. “Captain Grimes is a dedicated civil servant and a good family man. Put your phone on speaker.”
I hit the speaker button.
“Captain Grimes, can you hear me?” Reed said.
“Yes,” Walt said.
“Do you remember me now?” Reed said.
“I remember you,” Walt said.
“I spent seven years in a Florida sweatbox for a victimless crime because of you,” Reed said. “I lost my wife, my family, and my home, and now you’re going to know what that feels like. Tomorrow morning you’re going to plead guilty in open court. Agreed?”
“Yes,” Walt said.
“I’ll release your wife, but if you double-cross me, the girl dies, and no one will ever find me or her again,” Reed said. “Understand?”
“Yes,” Walt said.
“Bekker, take the phone off speaker,” Reed said.
I hit the speaker button again and put the phone to my ear.
“After dark, drive to the parking lot of the Wind Chimes Motel off exit nine on the highway,” Reed said. “It’s abandoned, so it will be nice and quiet. The wife is in the back of a van. It will be unlocked. And a camera will see everything, so if you’re thinking of bringing anybody with you, just think of your little girl.”
“I’ll be alone,” I said.
“And I’ll be watching,” Reed said. “I’ll call you after he pleads.”
The phone went dead and I stuck it in my pocket.
I looked at Walt. “Don’t worry, Walt, I’ll get Elizabeth back,” I said. “After dark, I’ll be back with her.”
* * *
“On top of everything else, he has a video of us?” Jane said. “You asshole. You absolute fucking asshole.”
“Call me names later,” I said. “Are you going to back me or not?”
“Of course, I’m going to back you, you moron,” Jane said.
“What do you have in your cruiser?” I said.
“Pistol grip 12-gauge,” Jane said.
I stood from the kitchen table in the trailer and went to my bedroom, unlocked the Benelli M4 shotgun from the wall and brought it and a box of shells back to the table.
“Use this,” I said.
Jane picked up the shotgun. “Where did you get this thing?”
“A grateful client who was a collector,” I said.
“Give me a minute to change,” Jane said.
Chapter Forty-two
Wearing black jeans, a black T-shirt, and black sneakers, Jane sat beside me in my car and smoked a cigarette.
“So how bad is this video?” she said.
“Bad.”
“When I…?”
“Yup.”
“And when you…?”
“Yup.”
Jane blew a smoke ring out her open
window. “We’ll talk about it later,” she said.
“If it’s any consolation, you look really great on film,” I said.
Jane shook her head. “Asshole,” she said and blew another smoke ring.
* * *
Off exit nine, I followed the road to the dark, deserted motel. A block before the parking lot, Jane put on a black ski mask and climbed over the seat to the rear.
I didn’t need to tell her to keep her head low, Jane was an experienced professional.
I entered the parking lot and stopped about a hundred feet behind the van.
“If the van explodes, find Reed wherever he is and kill him for me,” I said.
Tucked down below the seat, Jane said, “Love to.”
I opened my car door, stepped out and looked at the motel. It had been abandoned for some time and was close to being condemned.
I walked to the van and cautiously opened the rear door.
Elizabeth, bound and gagged with duct tape, was asleep on the floor of the van. I gently shook her shoulder. She woke up and started flailing and screaming inside the duct tape.
“Liz, it’s Jack,” I said. “It’s me Bekker.”
With wide eyes filled with fear, Elizabeth looked at me. Recognition set in and she calmed down. I used my pocketknife to cut the duct tape from her legs and arms, and then slowly removed the piece from her mouth.
“He’s got Regan,” she said.
“I know. It will be alright. Can you walk?” I said.
“I think so.”
She tried, but her legs were weak, so I carried Elizabeth to the car and placed her in the back seat.
“Sheriff Morgan?” Elizabeth said and burst into tears.
“Jack, go, she’s coming apart,” Jane said.
I raced back to the highway.
Jane sat up and held Elizabeth around the shoulders.
“We were… we were going to the car and he came out of nowhere,” Elizabeth said. “He grabbed me from behind and put a rag over my face. The next thing I knew I woke up in the back of that van.”
“Was Regan with you?” I said.
“Yes, but he moved her. She fought like hell. She bit and scratched him and he slapped her,” Elizabeth said.
“He slapped Regan?” I said.
“Yes, but she isn’t hurt,” Elizabeth said. “God, I feel sick.”