Crickett (Dev Haskell - Private Investigator Book 8)

by Mike Faricy

  The pounding on the driver’s window jerked me awake, and I blinked Charlie into focus. It was daylight. Not early morning daylight, but rather more respectable, like a banker’s ten o’clock kind of daylight.

  “This is getting to be a bad habit of yours. Well, come on you better get out, ‘spose I’ll have to make you breakfast again,” he said, and headed for the kitchen door.

  I groaned from behind the steering wheel and stretched in an attempt to get some of the kinks out, then followed him into the house. It dawned on me that he had cleaned up and was dressed in jeans, a flannel shirt, and looked to be freshly shaved.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “Past ten, good Lord, the morning’s half over, and you haven’t accomplished a damn thing yet.”

  “I made it here without taking a side trip into the ditch.”

  “Yeah, I guess you did. Look no offense, but a shower wouldn’t do you any harm.” Then his voice softened, and he said, “You can help yourself to any of Daryl’s clothes.”

  I nodded thanks, then headed for the bathroom. A long, hot, steaming shower can do wonders for rejuvenation, even if it lasts for only an hour or so. We finished breakfast, and talked about everything except the subject at hand. The kitchen was sunny, and I looked out onto the deck where I’d had my previous breakfast with him. Finally I said, “Charlie, you still haven’t told me how you came to be there.”

  He stood up and started clearing breakfast dishes, then labored at the kitchen sink with his back to me. When he’d finished with the dishes, he stared out the kitchen window at the deck, and the forest beyond. Finally he said, “You know the more I tried to figure this out, the more things seemed to always come back to the same couple of folks. Your pal Gustafson, his…”

  “I think you can safely assume we aren’t friends.”

  “His kid, Ben. That worthless slut, Crickett and that deranged idiot with the crew cut and the face that would keep a plastic surgeon awake at night.”

  “I think you mean Bulldog.”

  “Mmm-mmm, that bastard got a real name?”

  “If he does I’ve never heard it.”

  He turned round and looked at me, leaned against the granite counter and folded his arms across his chest. “I sort of poked around a little, looking for I don’t know what. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to link them to Daryl’s murder, at least not in a way that would stand up in court. But that doesn’t mean they weren’t involved.”

  I nodded, and said, “I had a pleasant chat with Tubby’s kid, Ben. He said the two of them, he and Daryl, were aware that van was being watched by the police. He suggested Daryl took the van more or less on a dare. Figured he either wouldn’t get caught, or he could talk his way out of it.”

  Charlie looked off somewhere in the distance, maybe twenty-plus years ago. A little boy was laughing and shrieking as Charlie chased him around the backyard, then scooped the little guy up and smothered him with kisses. He shook his head ever so slightly, and softly whispered, “Jesus.”

  “The way Tubby’s kid told it, they figured if they could get the police to turn over the cocaine to the DEA, the weak point would be the actual transfer and, well that’s seems to be what happened. They somehow found out when the transfer was going to be, or maybe it was as simple as being parked across the street and waiting until the DEA pulled up,” I said putting some distance between me and my stupid phone call to Tubby.

  “Anyway, they or someone, hijacked the entire thing. I started nosing around, actually found the stash, and called it in. The cops just didn’t get there in time.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, that guy in the big ball, the one they killed, his name was Jace. He was the one supposedly guarding everything in a garage, and I tricked him into letting me in. That’s why they shot the poor bastard, he lost their big score. God only knows where it is now.”

  Charlie sort of shrugged his shoulders, and then began to load the dishwasher. “Probably already out on the street by now,” he said, but he didn’t sound too convinced. “Look, why don’t you help yourself to the bed in Daryl’s old room, catch some sleep. I don’t see any hurry in getting you back to the city, at least not until we’re sure it’s safe.”

  “What about the carnage back at that cabin? There anything about it on the news?”

  Charlie shook his head. “I’ll lay you odds you won’t hear a thing. I’m willing to bet that mess was cleaned up before daybreak. Once they returned with reinforcements, it would have been priority number one. Based on the game they were playing, those big balls they had you two in, I’d say its most likely not the first time something like that went down. God only knows how many folks might be buried out in those woods. Private land like that and lots of it, those are bodies that most likely will never be found.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “I’d say he wasn’t much involved,” Charlie said, then seemed to smile to himself.

  Chapter Forty-One

  I was dead to the world for more than a few hours. I woke sometime in the late afternoon then strolled through the house looking for Charlie, but he was nowhere to be found, so I wandered outside. His truck was just where I’d parked it. I called his name a couple of times and got no answer. I checked the garage, but it was locked. I walked behind the house past the deck and the groomed back lawn out toward the forest, and called his name again with the same result.

  I walked back around the house, on a whim I peeked in a side window of the three-stall garage. There were two open bays, and then in the furthest bay I could just make out what looked like a black pickup truck. It was partially covered with a blue tarp that was tied down with a braided yellow cord. Judging from the dirt tracks on the garage floor, it seemed like a pretty safe guess the pickup had been backed in recently, very recently, like maybe early this morning. I was pretty sure I’d seen the vehicle before. Once in the garage Jace had been guarding and then yesterday morning, right before they put the hood over my head and dragged me out. I was sure the thing had been in the back of that storage shed. There were some other events taking precedence at the time so I didn’t recognize it, but it looked to be the same vehicle. And, since it was under the blue tarp there was a pretty good chance it was still loaded with the cocaine.

  What was it doing at Charlie’s? I tried the side door again, but it was locked, the window didn’t open, and the three overhead doors were all locked. I climbed up the steps to the front porch, grabbed a rocking chair, and made myself comfortable.

  It was almost sundown before Charlie returned. He pulled in driving a white Lexus, gave me a quick wave, then raised the middle garage door and backed in. “You get caught up on some sack time?” he called, lowering the garage door behind him and walking toward me. He was carrying a grocery bag.

  “Man, I was out cold.”

  “Yeah, I popped my head in to check on you, but you looked dead to the world. I got some steaks and a nice Pinot, figured we’d take it easy tonight.”

  “Sounds fine to me.”

  “Sit here and enjoy the view. I’m going to get the grill fired up, then I’ll come back out. You think you can handle a glass of wine?”

  “I’ll try my best.”

  We took our time with a couple of glasses of wine on the front porch, talking about everything other than recent events. Then we made our way out to the back deck where Charlie had the grill going. We were pretty well finished with dinner when Charlie said, “I’ve got a meeting out here tomorrow morning. I think it might be best if you weren’t here while it’s going on. Seems to me the less people who know you’re out here the better for everyone, especially you.”

  “You want me to head back to St. Paul?”

  “No, I didn’t mean it that way. In fact, I think that’s a bad idea. A real bad idea, at least until we’re sure you’ll be safe. I was just thinking, it might make a lot of sense if maybe you went into town or took a long drive. I’d guess you could probably come back around mid-afternoon, ma
ybe call ahead first, just to make sure we’re finished. You can take my pickup and see all the sights in the great metropolis of Vaxholm. We got an ice cream store, a grocery store, post office, even got our own police station.”

  “I think a simple daylight drive in the country might be more to my liking right now.”

  Charlie nodded like this made a lot of sense.

  “Hey Charlie, if you don’t mind me asking, I saw that old pickup parked in the garage. What’s up with that?”

  “Oh, you ever get a bee in your bonnet to do a project, spend some money on the damn thing and it doesn’t go any further than that? I was looking to restore that thing. Got it at an auction the next county over. Hell, that must have been two, three years ago, at least. Thus far, about all I’ve accomplished has been to back it into the garage and throw a tarp over the damn thing.”

  “I know how that goes. What is that a Ford Ranger?”

  “Yep, manufactured right here in Minnesota, as a matter of fact.”

  “I knew some guys who worked on the line down at the Ford plant in St. Paul. Course that was before they shut it down, first the line, then the entire plant.”

  “Lot of jobs,” Charlie said, and shook his head.

  “So you’re going to restore it?”

  “Theoretically,” Charlie said with a laugh then drained his glass.

  “Does it run?”

  “Tell you the truth, I don’t really know, like I said, it’s been sitting there for close to two years.”

  I was thinking of asking about the fresh tire tracks in the garage.

  “Dev, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some things to attend to in preparation for tomorrow’s meeting. Help yourself to anything. I’ll get you up for breakfast around seven. My clients will be here by ten, let’s play it safe, and have you heading out an hour before that. Okay?”

  “Sounds good. To tell you the truth, Charlie. I’m still dragging my ass a bit, I think I’ll just turn in.”

  “Suit yourself,” he said, then grabbed our wine glasses and headed into the kitchen.

  I was in bed asleep no more than fifteen minutes after that.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  It wasn’t going to take much more before I became addicted to Charlie’s pancakes. I ate five of the things for breakfast, stuffed myself into his pickup, and was on the road a few minutes before nine. I drove Northwest with no particular plan in mind other than returning mid-afternoon. I had lunch at a diner that seemed to specialize in high-calorie home cooking. I had the roast beef with mashed potatoes, a gallon of gravy, and green beans. There wasn’t so much as a salad or a weight watcher’s special on the menu to save your soul.

  At sometime during my aimless driving, I noticed what looked like a garage door opener, clipped onto the driver’s sun visor in Charlie’s pick-up. That got me thinking; ‘Who restores a Ford Ranger pickup?’ It didn’t seem to make any sense to me. I could see Charlie having some sort of street rod or even a classic car of some sort, but a Ford Ranger? And then I had a problem with that blue tarp and the yellow cord. Maybe that was a coincidence and I was just naïve, if so it was an awfully strange coincidence, not to mention the fresh tire tracks.

  Just to play it safe, I returned to Charlie’s at more like four in the afternoon. I pulled in alongside the house, then backed toward the garage, and pushed the garage door opener on the visor. The door opened and I quickly backed the pickup in.

  No need to hurry. Charlie’s White Lexus was in the stall where I’d last seen it and the infamous Ford Ranger was nowhere to be found. The dirt from the tire tracks I’d seen through the window yesterday was gone, swept up I presumed.

  Charlie appeared from somewhere in the house maybe an hour later. I was seated at the kitchen counter watching the news and used the remote to turn the volume down when he entered the room.

  “So did you see all the sights in our great city?”

  “Actually no, I sort of just headed north and west and looked at a lot of lakes.”

  “That can be enjoyable, too. Anything of interest?”

  “A lot of nice scenery, and let’s just say the notion of what a lake cabin was when I was a kid has evolved into something totally different today,” I said.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. I’m just old enough to question whether that’s really progress,” Charlie said. He opened the refrigerator, pulled out two beers, nicely chilled, then grabbed a couple of pint glasses out of a cupboard, filled one and pushed it across the counter in my direction.

  “Your meeting go okay?” I asked.

  “Pretty much, just a timely get together to make sure everyone is on the same page. The phone and email is nice, but every once in awhile you have to be able to look folks in the eye.”

  I nodded and took a sip. “What exactly is it that you do?”

  “Oh, you might say I’m just an entrepreneur. I look for opportunities.”

  I looked around at the kitchen, oak wood cabinets, stained glass window, granite counter tops, fancy appliances, in floor heating. “Looks like you’ve found some, opportunities that is.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been lucky. Have some good folks who think like I do, and we’ve been able to work together.”

  “Construction, high tech, phone apps?”

  “Depends on what comes along. What is it Warren Buffet says, he only needs one good idea every year, something like that.”

  “I think the only quote of his I remember is something about him buying expensive suits, but they still looked cheap on him.”

  Charlie nodded, then opened the refrigerator again. “I’m thinking salmon fillets tonight. That sound okay to you?”

  “As long as I’m not doing the cooking, you could serve up peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and it would be fine with me.”

  “Let’s stick with the salmon fillets. Say, I’m thinking it’s probably calmed down enough for you to head back to your place tomorrow.”

  “Really? This soon? Don’t get me wrong, I’m anxious to get back, but it’s just been a couple of days. I’m guessing Tubby is out there looking under every rock and trash can trying desperately to find me.”

  “I have it on good authority that’s no longer the case.”

  “What? Who told you that?”

  “I’m really not at liberty to say, but he assures me it’s safe for you to return.”

  “No offense, Charlie, and if I’m cramping your style I get it and it’s not a problem, but this seems awfully fast.”

  “Well, my experience has been this guy, the one I talked to can be trusted. Of course, I’d expect you to check with your own sources, that’s just common sense. But, word is your man Tubby has been decimated. Now, I’m going down there to pick up Daryl’s son, Oliver, tomorrow. If things check out with your contacts, I can give you a ride back down, and drop you off anywhere you’d like.”

  “Oliver? How did you ever get Crickett to agree to let you have him? Are you taking him for the weekend, or do you have to submit to one of those supervised visit things?”

  “Actually, I’m bringing him back up here, he’ll be living with me from now on.”

  “What about Crickett?”

  “She’s not my problem, and to be honest, the less I see of her the better. I’m not sure where she’ll end up, and as I said, really not my problem. I’ve decided to place that home on the market. I’ll be finalizing some things with the realtor tomorrow, before I pick up the little guy.”

  “Wow, you must have some really heavy-duty ammunition to get custody of that child.”

  Charlie just smiled, then unwrapped the package in front of him. Two gorgeous pink fillets glistened on the white butcher paper. “I do these with a chipotle mustard, some brown sugar, and a little lemon. It sounds simple, but I think you’ll find it to your liking. You game?”

  I nodded, and drained my glass.

  “Let me get you a refill there, Dev.”

  We stepped outside, and Charlie placed the foil-wrapped fillets on the grill
. I sat there sipping, and appraising Charlie with a different sense then I had just this morning. I wondered about his inside connection. Was there really one? And what happened to the Ford Ranger pickup? Now, I was even more convinced it was the same one I’d seen in the garage Jace had been guarding. And, Charlie was picking up little Oliver to come live with him, pretty heavy ammunition, very heavy.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  I phoned Louie the following morning, and told him I’d be in before noon. I didn’t have any keys, and wanted to be sure he’d be there. The ride back down to St. Paul wasn’t just uneventful, it was boring. Charlie seemed to be deep in thought and answered the couple of questions I asked with just one or two words. I got the message after that, and just stared out the window.

  Halfway down, I noticed a red Escalade in the side view mirror. We were on the interstate, and it wouldn’t be unusual to have a number of vehicles headed in the same general direction, but this one seemed to keep pace. If we passed someone it pulled out, then tucked back into the right hand lane behind us. The windows were tinted, but I could make out two guys sitting in the front. The third time they followed us passing someone I decided to mention it. “You know that Escalade behind us seems to be right on our ass. Every time you pass someone, they do the same thing, then tuck in right behind us again.”

  Charlie casually glanced in the rearview mirror, gave a slight smile and said, “I wouldn’t let it bother you any, Dev. We got about an hour to go, why don’t you tilt that seat back and catch a little nap.” The way he said it seemed to be a little stronger than just a simple suggestion, plus I was drowsy, so I did just that, tilted the seat back, and closed my eyes.

  “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” Charlie said. I thought I’d dosed off for just a brief moment, but there was the downtown skyline just ahead of us. “You want to be dropped off at home, or some sexy thing’s house? Just tell me where.”