by Boyd Craven
“Until you called for me, I was sitting on a dock, dangling my toes in the water. You called me out here,” I pointed out, getting angry now. “But if I did happen to run across Eduardo, I’d be sure to let you know. Along with the sheriff’s department.”
Detective Terrey shrugged. “You have a habit of losing your temper, and people get hurt. If you keep your nose out of this, I can maybe help you with a couple of things. Quid pro quo. I mean it.”
“Come on, Tony. We need to go,” Irish John called.
“If I hear anything before I hear from you, I’ll call.”
“You better,” he said before turning and walking back to the huddle of cops.
Chapter Twenty-Four
We dropped Donnie and Serf off at their SUV. They had parked it near the church and had been walking when Irish had found them. Now, they were mobile again and headed back to the boatyard. Franklin was gone, and I figured four guys would be too crowded to hang out in the galley of my little fishing boat, so I cleared out a space by the big overhead door, got one of the industrial pedestal fans blowing humid air around, and got a few chairs out to sit around a folding table. The guys had information they wanted to share with me, but they had some stuff in their vehicle they had to get first.
I was dying to get back up to the hospital, but the implication they had info that could put Eduardo within grasp was making me wait. Irish John made it back first, and I put a bottle of Johnny Walker on the table across from me. He looked at it, then sat, cracking the pint open. He took a long sniff, then capped it and put it in the middle.
“Irish John will drink when ’dis foolish ‘bidness is over. Your cop friend tell you who ’dose boys be?”
“Yeah, said they were private contractors. Made it sound like they worked right on the edge of the law and was worried we’d all get in their way and make the case more difficult for them.”
“’Dese boys are contractors. Not always on the side of the law, but never for bad or evil men. ’Dey know how to move ’tings, and ’dey know who is moving ’tings. Many times it is guns, sometimes it’s getting back people who were taken. It’s all legal somewhere, otherwise government agents, big dummy assholes, would stop them. Most people look other way because ’dey have right paperwork and ’dey do good ’tings despite moving in da shadows. Mostly ’dey work finding missing ’tings.”
“I know a lot of guys like that, back in my hometown of Chicago,” I told him.
“Now you know two more,” Irish John said.
“What’s their interest in this case?” I asked them.
“Miss Josephine mentioned her favorite almost-niece was shot by men ’dey tracking already.”
“Almost niece?” I asked him, an eyebrow raised.
“Yes, church family is almost like real family. ’Dese boys know how ’tings work down here, and love da old lady like ’dey own mother.”
“So why were they tracking Ramon’s dad Eduardo?” I asked him as the fan blew heavenly air against my back that had started to sweat through my clean polo.
“He’s part of crew. Bigger men in crew move ’tings. Drugs, guns, prostitutes, childrens… Eduardo just low-level thug. ’Dese boys looking for specific childrens, to get back to their families in Tampa and Cuba. ‘Dey were called because ’dey were taken from ’dis area.”
“Jesus,” I said, whistling. “You’re talking the cartels?” Suddenly, I felt in over my head.
“Or MS-13, but Irish John knows not what these fools are from or with. Irish John stays out of trouble, as long as trouble doesn’t come looking for Irish John!”
“Does the detective know what they’re doing?” I asked him. “Do we need to bring them up to date?”
“In truth, Irish John doesn’t know. When the boys were found, ’dey worried many children’s lives in danger, so Irish John doesn’t ‘tink the cops know or should know every ‘tings.”
I nodded and got up. I went to the big refrigerator near Franklin’s office and opened it and got out a beer. As I was turning, Irish John was out of his seat in a flash.
“All ’dis time you have beer and not offer your best friend, your family, old man Irish John a beer?” he asked, pretend hurt in his voice.
“I thought you liked Johnny Walker? Besides, you weren’t going to be drinking,” I reminded him, handing him the beer I had gotten out for myself.
“Johnny can be drank warm. Beer on ‘da other hand…” he twisted off the top and swallowed half a bottle in the time it took for me to get another one out. He belched, his arm covering his mouth. “Beer is proof that god loves us.”
“I’ve got two cases of Budweiser in there. Help yourself - unless you plan on driving my truck around more.”
Irish John laughed, downed the rest of the bottle, and headed back to the table.
Donnie and Serf were a two-man team. They were both self-employed, one an audio guy, the other famous for turning around hotels and vacation properties. They also both trained heavily when not at work and had things with their businesses fixed so at the drop of a hat, they could take on special clients or jobs as contractors. This one was a little bit of both for them, and one they were personally invested in.
“How long you known Carly?” Serf asked, pounding down a beer.
“Almost since I got into town. Months? We’ve been dating since the robbery,” I answered.
“That’s cool. She’s a good kid. I always figured her and Donnie would tie the knot someday but—”
“But she’d never give me the time of day, ya fucking bastard.” He kicked me under the table playfully, dropping me a wink to let me know they were joking.
“So you two know her pretty good?” I asked.
“She’s like a little sister to us,” Donnie said while Serf cracked another beer. “I dunno. She’s more your age. I’m probably ten years older than you, and I think Serf has like ten years on me.”
“Three years, asswipe,” he shot back, tossing the bottle cap at Donnie.
I tried not to laugh, but the banter was doing a lot to distract me from the pure terror I was feeling over what I had learned. Eduardo was mostly a ground pounder for a group the two men were sure was part of The New Generation Cartel, a spinoff from the Jalisco Cartel, affiliated. He was mostly a runner, delivering things from boats to a distributor. He had gotten stupid and tried to knock off the pawn shop. The guys figured the trio had been after guns and whatever cash was in the safe. A quick boat ride halfway to Cuba and an exchange at sea, guns for ganja, then the ganja back to shore to the distributor… Eduardo and his other compadres had been hoping to add some extra money to their pockets. Maybe it could also be because they were headed out of town? It also cast doubt on who killed the kid and his mother. Was it him, or the men he worked for? The cartels were known to be ruthless when it came to keeping their people in line, often taking things out on families.
“We should tell the cops,” I said for the third time that night.
“Not yet. We’re still trying to figure out where the kidnapped kids are being kept. We think it’s a mothership like the Somali pirates used. We think it’s between Cuba and the USA,” Serf said, “because facial recognition is getting good, and nobody has popped on the US side.”
“They don’t have to come through normal ports, though,” I said.
“No, they don’t, but we’ve got our own contacts watching the points they come in from. Right now, there’s a big market on light skinned Americano girls. Ages nine to fourteen. We’ve gotten word that two recently kidnapped kids from the Naples area have been snatched by TNGC. We figure they are being held between Key West and Varadero Cuba, either on a boat, or on one of the sparsely inhabited islands near the Bahamas. We’ve got some GPS waypoints we took off of one of Ramon’s trio yesterday.”
“Wait, you already caught up with them? All three are out?”
“Yeah, but no, we only caught up with one. Jimenez? I don’t know what his real name is. He was trying to steal a fast boat from one of t
he docks we have guys watching. They stopped him and held him for us. We sweated him for info and took his phone. He gave us some GPS coordinates and we wrote down the waypoints. When we got all we needed, we trussed him up like a thanksgiving turkey—”
“And shit in his hat and made him eat it!” Irish John spoke up loudly.
“Well, he did eat some things he didn’t like, that’s for sure,” Donnie snickered.
“Naw, we tied him up and sent an anonymous tip to the detectives. I figured that Terrey guy knew who had done it, but shit, if I gotta do some time for beating info out of a fucking shitbird, it won’t be so bad,” Serf told me.
“It wouldn’t be the first time a bad guy was turned into the police and anonymous information given to them that ended in them getting a big bust. We done that a few times,” Donnie finished, “that’s why they kind of look the other way or don’t look at us too hard. We do the things they can’t do, and we don’t leave trails of bodies behind us. Nobody has fingered us, so…”
“You can continue to operate,” I finished.
“’Tole you ‘dese men are good friends to have,” Irish John said, nursing his third beer for all it was worth.
“The problem we have with giving this info to the cops, is that they have too many rules to follow, and we’re heading into international waters. Anything that looks like Coast Guard, or cops coming at the ship or island where the kids are being held… They might just toss the kids overboard before anybody got close. If only we knew somebody who had a big assed fishing boat that could pretend to take a group of people out on a charter…” Donnie turned and stared at me.
I grinned wickedly. “What if we invited the sheriff and Detective Terrey on a charter trip, say, a two-day all expenses covered, all you can eat and drink…”
“No feds, though,” Serf said. “Everybody knows they’re riddled with informants. Hell, I trust Terrey, but I don’t know the sheriff.”
“He’s a good one,” I said.
“You really want to involve the law on this?” Donnie asked. “It’s really going to throw a wrench into the works if we have to get rough.”
“I’d feel better about it, especially if we’re headed into foreign waters.” I really had to get a Dummies Guide to international waters law. “Besides, we could use the extra hands if it’s just us.”
“They do have resources they could call in, once we get the kids secured,” Donnie mused. “Medical, might even get the feds involved after things are all done and it’s too late to snitch.”
“I’m all about helping to find the kids,” I said, “but I want Eduardo.”
Oh boy, did I want to get my hands on him. I wanted to put them around his scrawny neck and squeeze…
“What if we got you to Eduardo, so he can get us to the kids?” Serf asked.
“You have a good idea where he’s going to be?” I asked, curious why they hadn’t led with this.
“Remember when we said we got coordinates?” Serf asked, pulling out a phone and a sheet of paper. “How about you go and see that girlfriend of yours, while we make some phone calls. Maybe call your cop buddies?”
“I’ll get on that,” I said, standing.
“Irish John will lock up behind you all. If not here when you get back, pick me up at ‘da island on your way out. Irish John needs to get some ’tings for ‘dis trip.”
“Ok,” I told him, “you got a phone?”
“No, when Irish called you, he used Donnie’s phone.”
“Ok,” I said, pulling mine out, “I’m going to save that. I’ll call you when I know more.”
“Likewise.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
There was a festive attitude near Carly’s room. The doctor came out of her room smiling, the nurses were joking, and Carly’s father was talking nonstop, his voice carried far before I could see him. They paused, and her father zeroed in on me.
“She’s awake again. She asked the pain drip to be slowed way down. Says it isn’t too bad.”
“She’s definitely a fighter,” the nurse from earlier said.
“Or a redhead,” I snarked back.
“That too! She’s been asking about you.”
“Yeah, she wanted me to call you. I was about to, but here you are,” her father finished.
“How is she feeling?” I asked him.
“Sore, tired, her hip hurts. She’s running a mild fever, but they’re monitoring it and giving her enough antibiotics to kill Montezuma’s revenge.”
“Ok,” I told him, patting him on the shoulder gently, smiling.
I walked in and saw Carly had probably had a shower, or a really thorough sponge bath. Her hair was freshly done, and she had on traces of makeup. She was still laying in bed, but it was tilted ever so slightly. Sitting next to her in a chair was Detective Terrey, who was taking notes. Carly’s words trailed off when she saw me, and a smile spread across her face.
“Hey,” I said walking over, giving her a gentle kiss.
“You weren’t here,” she said, my arm.
“Had a lot of things happen today,” I told her, “I got here as soon as I could.”
“Things I should know about?” Detective Terrey asked.
“Actually, yes, I was going to call you after I saw my girl here, but you saved me the trouble. Do you know Sheriff Mark Williams?” I asked.
“Of course, I’m coordinating the investigation with his office.”
“You guys found Ramon’s father?” Carly asked, her voice stronger than it had been earlier.
“No, but we’ve got a good lead.”
“Good, turn it over and we’ll talk things over.”
“There’s a lot to go over,” I told him. “We will, but I’m going to need you to trust me, and I only want to go over this when the sheriff shows up.”
“Oh, he’s on his way up here?” Terrey asked.
“Yes,” I said grinning, unable to look away from Carly’s smile.
“Don’t get yourself into trouble, big guy,” she said softly.
“You have good news?” Carly’s father asked, coming in behind me.
“I do,” I said quietly. “But nothing is ready to go right now.”
“I knew it; shit,” Detective Terrey said disgustedly. “You’re working the case with the Boom brothers.”
“Boom brothers?” I asked, trying not to snicker.
“Donnie and Serf, the boys who make things go B O O M.”
“Hey,” a familiar voice called out from behind me. “I know those boys, they used to go to my church before they moved to Tampa.”
We all turned, and Sheriff Mark Williams was standing behind us. “You rang?” he said, a confused look on his face.
I looked around the room. I didn’t want to do it here, but at the moment it was Carly, her father, Mark, Charles and me. Everybody other than Irish and the Boom brothers who probably needed to know. I got up and closed the door, moving a chair in front of it, making eyebrows go high.
“What if I told you we couldn’t only help you guys find Eduardo, but solve a string of child kidnappings on the west coast, from Apalachicola down to the Keys? Possibly recovering dozens of kids?”
Terrey had started to stand, his notebook in his hand, but at my words, he dropped them. Everybody’s jaws dropped except Carly, who looked predatory.
“I’d want to know why you haven’t called this in,” Sheriff Mark said.
“Because if we get too close, they may literally dump the kids in the ocean, never to be found again. Once we get Eduardo, we have to move on recovering the kids, or they are all at risk.”
“Because…” Carly asked.
“Because Eduardo is suspected to be a runner for an offshoot of the Jalisco cartel,” Terrey said. “Real assholes who run guns, drugs, humans. Into kidnapping, prostitution, ransoms, murder for hire — the whole shebang.”
“And if we get anywhere near the island or mothership in a police boat, or anything that looks like a federal boat or Coast Guard, they
’ll literally dump them overboard,” Mark said softly.
“What are you proposing?” Terrey asked.
“I’d like to take you boys fishing,” I said softly.
The room was so quiet that I thought somebody would shush the electronic equipment that Carly was hooked up to.
“How many?” Mark asked after a heartbeat.
“Irish, me, Donnie, Serf and you two. I’m afraid letting anybody else in on this risks it leaking out, from what the guys were telling me.”
“You’re a big dummy asshole,” Carly said in a croaking voice. “Maybe it’s the drugs, but I think I love you.”
I walked over and leaned down again, kissing her.
“I um…” she said, brushing her fingers across her lips, “…if you can do all of that, you better be careful. I don’t exactly have a good track record of staying out of trouble without you lately.”
“We can put a hurt on the cartel if we can pull this off, but only six of us. We’re going to need backup,” Terrey said.
“We can have backup if they want to stage in Miami. We’re going to be operating in the waters between there and Cuba,” I told them.
“Why not be more specific?” Terrey asked.
“Trust. I’m willing to go without you guys if I have to, but I trust you two. If you suddenly decide to detain me as a material witness, try to get the info out of me, the rest of the group still goes. It’s what they do. You can either be on board with this, or we do it alone.”
“This is going to be way out of our jurisdiction,” Mark said.
“Where we’re going, we’ll be in international waters,” I said quietly. “Military might do something, but that’s just as bad out there. Who would suspect an old fishing boat with two specialists and two police officers with a vested interest in seeking justice?”
“How are you set for weapons?” Terrey asked suddenly.
“You know about me; I’m a convicted felon. I don’t have any guns. I think I have a spear gun in the boat, but that’s about it.”