Dead Peasants (Zoo Crew series Book 2)

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Dead Peasants (Zoo Crew series Book 2) Page 14

by Dustin Stevens


  Still, it would be better than following her around like a pair of peeping toms.

  "The woman’s life is irrelevant to us," Montgomery said. "There is nothing to be gained from her death. Right now, the only thing that can come from her is extra attention."

  Hector and Raquel both stared at the screen.

  "Killing her would be cleaner," Raquel echoed.

  Her voice was a little harder than Hector's. Tone bordering on a command.

  Montgomery stared for several moments at the camera. Lowered his hand away from his face. Sighed.

  "Probably. For the time being though, please just follow her. If after a few days nothing transpires, proceed with the original plan."

  "And if something does?" Raquel asked.

  "Kill her then," Montgomery said. Not a trace of hesitation. "Your fee will be doubled for your services. Money is en route as we speak."

  A moment later the screen went blue. No further discussion. No farewell of any kind.

  Raquel and Hector sat in silence for a few long moments. Both wrestled with, eventually swallowed, the fierce anger that had welled within them.

  Hector was the first to break the silence.

  "If something does happen," Hector said softly, "it will be too late."

  Raquel nodded her head in agreement. Said nothing.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  We need to talk.

  No further explanation.

  Drake waited as long as his impatience would allow before sending the text to Ava. He knew it was Sunday morning. Knew she had woken up earlier than she wanted the day before.

  Still, he was surprised it took her until almost noon to respond.

  Should have sat pancakes outside her door too apparently.

  Everything alright?

  Drake debated how to respond. He still didn't technically know anything. Could prove even less.

  Still, the new information was too glaring to ignore.

  Not sure. Come by a little early before the meeting?

  Ava responded in the affirmative. Told him to be there in an hour.

  Drake tossed his phone aside without responding. Continued pacing behind the sofa.

  In front of him, Ajax was sprawled out on the couch. Sage on the arm chair. Suzy Q in a sunbeam on the floor.

  All three were asleep.

  Drake debated trying to read for a while before heading to Ava's. Considered logging in to his computer and working for a bit.

  Pushed both aside.

  The case now gripped his thoughts. Trying to concentrate on anything else would just be wasting time.

  Quietly, he went into his bedroom. Pulled on jeans. A long sleeve button-down with navy pinstripes. A navy v-neck sweater over it. Pushed the sleeves up to his elbows.

  Not his usual weekend fare, but he was tired of being severely outclassed by Ava.

  Drake waited as long as he could. Made it to almost half an hour.

  Decided that was long enough. Got into his truck and headed over to Ava's. Stopped by Missoula Mud along the way for an oversized coffee.

  Hoped the peace offering would pardon his being early.

  Forty minutes after texting, he arrived at Ava's. Jumped the stairs two at a time up to her apartment. Rapped twice on the door.

  Inside, he could hear a hair dryer kick off. The sound of feet stomping towards the door.

  The door swung open without a pause to check the peep hole. Behind it stood a visibly agitated Ava.

  She was dressed in navy pants and a three-quarter length white sweater with small navy polka dots. Her good foot was bare. Her hair was still damp.

  "I said an hour." Open hostility in her tone.

  Drake extended the coffee to her. "Tall hot salted caramel mocha. And believe me, a small part of me died ordering that."

  Ava's face softened fractionally. "Oh." She accepted the cup. Took a drink. "That's not half bad. Never had one of those before. Surprised you knew to order it."

  "I didn't," Drake said. "I asked the girl at the window for a tall chick drink. That's what she gave me."

  Ava smirked. "That's not all she gave you."

  Twisted the cup to reveal the girl's name and phone number scrawled on the cup.

  Drake rolled his eyes. "Can I come in?"

  Ava stepped aside. Closed the door. Took another hit from the coffee.

  "So what's so important it couldn't wait?"

  Went back into the main bathroom. Stood in front of the mirror. Left Drake to lean against the counter in the kitchen.

  "The plot has thickened," Drake said. Folded his arms.

  It was only the second time he'd been in the apartment. The place had a sparse, chic feel to it that buoyed everything he knew about Ava.

  Marble countertops. Stainless steel appliances. A minimal amount of furniture.

  Everything in black or silver. Everything with very defined lines and angles.

  Virtually no personal touches of any kind.

  "I'm listening," Ava prompted.

  "So based on what Traynor told us yesterday, some things weren't sitting right with me. So I asked my expert hacker roommate to do some digging around."

  Ava stopped running the brush through her hair. Turned to look at him. "And?"

  "And Craig Galt was the first of three former Bargain Mart employees to pass away this week."

  Ava motioned with her hand for him to continue.

  "All three worked for Bargain Mart around the same time, in the mid-to-late eighties."

  "How did the other two die?"

  "Heart attack. Bicycle accident."

  Ava looked out through the window above her sink. Eyes went glassy for a moment. "That doesn't necessarily mean anything."

  "I know. But it is one hell of a coincidence, don't you think?"

  Ava went back to her hair. "It is. That's for damn sure. So what are you thinking?"

  "I don't know," Drake said. "On one hand, the words class action keep flashing in my mind. That is assuming we could find out if the other two had Dead Peasant policies attached to them as well."

  "And if they do, it begs the question, is Bargain Mart targeting former employees?"

  "Exactly," Drake said. Nodded his head. Smirked. "Almost sounds like a bad Saturday night murder mystery doesn't it?"

  Ava laughed. Finished getting ready.

  The subject matter switched to lighter fare as they headed back to the truck. Drove the short distance to Alice Galt's house.

  Side by side they strode up the concrete walkway at exactly one-thirty.

  The home was a simple affair on the west end of town. One story. Brick. Attached two car garage. Line of shrubs stretched to either side trimmed square and neat.

  Drake stepped up onto the concrete landing that served as a small front porch. Rang the doorbell. Turned and stared at Blue Mountain rising above them.

  The door opened a moment later. Alice Galt stood there, dressed in jeans and an oversized Angora sweater that seemed to swallow her up.

  Her hair was pulled back. Eyes looked puffy, but dry.

  "Hey there," she said. Forced smile. "Thanks for coming. Please come inside."

  Drake stepped to the side. Motioned Ava through. "Thank you for having us."

  Alice led them directly into the living room. It was decorated in a warm, if not outdated, style. Lots of brown and green. Sofa, loveseat, rocking chair. Wooden box television.

  Pictures hung on the walls. Knickknacks lined the shelves.

  Alice motioned them to the sofa. Remained standing.

  "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Water?"

  Drake and Ava both declined. Watched as Alice folded herself down into the armchair.

  Said nothing.

  Several thoughts shoved their way to the front of Drake's mind. Questions he was curious about. Information he wanted to relay.

  One by one he pushed them aside. This was clearly a woman still very much hurting.

  He remembered the feeling vividly himself
.

  "How you doing?" he asked. Voice soft.

  The question seemed to surprise Ava. She went a bit rigid, swiveled her head at the neck to face him.

  Alice focused on him. Offered a small shrug.

  "They tell me it'll get easier."

  Drake nodded. "It will."

  Ava openly stared at him.

  Alice seemed to sense the gravity in his words.

  "You've seen this before?"

  "My parents," he said. "Same time, few years ago."

  He added no further details. Didn't really want or need to.

  Alice got the message. Nodded.

  "How long?"

  Drake considered the question. Looked off, out through the front window to the peak of Blue Mountain. Considered telling the woman some form of lie.

  Something comforting that might make her feel better momentarily.

  Still, all he could remember from when he went through it himself was wishing someone would just be honest with him.

  "Longer than I'd like to admit or you'd like to hear."

  "That's what I was afraid of," Alice said. "But thank you for saying it."

  Drake nodded. Said nothing.

  "So what brings you two out here today? I imagine you both have better things to do than come visit a grieving widow on a Sunday afternoon."

  The urge to rebut the last part of her statement come to the forefront. Drake dismissed it. Focused on the task at hand.

  "We were able to do some digging on the life insurance policy you brought us," Drake began. "There was in fact a policy in your husband's name for $250,000. Unfortunately, it wasn't payable to next of kin."

  "So who was it payable to?" Alice asked.

  "Bargain Mart."

  Alice made a face. Twisted her head as if changing her angle would improve her hearing. "I'm sorry, Bargain Mart?"

  "From what we've been able to gather, your husband worked for them briefly in the eighties," Ava said. "During that time, the company took out a life insurance policy in his name."

  The face lingered from Alice.

  "Bargain Mart," she repeated. The look on her face relayed the name tasted sour in her mouth. "Craig worked there a couple of winters in college. Seasonal help. How in the world...?"

  She let her voice drop off, too many questions to get them all out.

  "We spoke to Walt Traynor, the man who sold you your policy at Mountain Life," Drake said. "He explained to us that apparently this practice is unnervingly common with large corporations. They purchase policies in the name of their employees, pay the premiums, collect upon passing."

  "And that's legal?"

  "Reprehensible," Ava said, "but, sadly, legal."

  "I've never heard of such a thing," Alice said. Folded her arms across her chest. Stared at the coffee table between them.

  Drake opened his mouth. Closed it just as fast. Couldn't bring himself to utter the term Dead Peasants to her.

  "That's why we asked to see you," Drake said. "At this point, the ball is in your court so to speak. Since the policy is technically legal, you can elect to do nothing. Nobody will contact you again."

  "And Bargain Mart keeps the money?" Alice said.

  "That's correct," Drake said.

  "If you'd like, we can speak to Bargain Mart," Ava said. "We tried to talk to their local manager here, but he didn't have much to offer. We could speak to someone higher up the pecking order. Possibly we could work out some form of settlement with them.

  "Explain that Mr. Galt was your husband and you are rightfully entitled to that money. Odds are, they'll make an offer just to keep the story out of the news."

  "Or if making a splash in the news is what you're after, by all means we can file a suit," Drake said. "Subpoena records, make them show just how many people they've collected policies for here in Missoula."

  Alice's face quivered slightly. She kept her eyes aimed down at the table.

  "What would you do?"

  Ava started to respond. Stopped herself. Looked over to Drake.

  Drake sensed what she was trying to tell him. Nodded.

  "Ma'am, that really isn't for us to say. You are in the unique position of having just lost your husband. We know you have a lot you're dealing with.

  "I will just say, whatever you decide, we will carry out to the best of our abilities."

  Alice blinked hard several times. Nudged herself forward and back in the rocking chair a couple of times.

  "Can I have a day or two to think about it?"

  "Take all the time you need."

  Alice nodded once more. Continued to push herself in a smooth motion with the toe of her shoe.

  Said nothing.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Checking in.

  Quite possibly the only thing more infuriating, more insulting, than being put on guard duty. Being forced to check in every night and update corporate back in London.

  Raquel and Hector weren't in front of the screen at six when the first call came in. Didn't bother to answer when the second one came in five minutes later.

  Waited until the third call in at a quarter after to pick up.

  When they did, both were seated in their customary positions. Both were again dressed in black.

  This time though, both wore ribbed black tank tops. Let the board take a look at what they were dealing with.

  The Spanish cross tattoo that engulfed Hector's left forearm. The burn scar that snaked from his right shoulder down to his elbow.

  The striated muscle that belied it all.

  The dozens of nicks earned by Raquel in a lifetime of knife fights. The veins that threaded down her arms like rivers on a map.

  Neither one answered as they took the call. Just flipped the switch and stared stonily into the camera.

  On the opposite side, Montgomery seemed thoroughly fussed. Even had a finger raised by his side as if about to deliver an admonishment.

  Saw their faces. Their arms.

  Thought better of it. Lowered his finger silently.

  "Thank you for meeting with us this evening."

  Silence.

  "We appreciate you being so flexible in what was asked of you."

  Silence.

  Montgomery glanced between his cohorts. Took pause, visibly debating how to proceed.

  "Were you able to determine anything today?"

  Raquel and Hector both remained silent for several long moments. Eventually, Hector grunted softly.

  "We observed the woman all day," Raquel said. Clipped words. Tone like ice.

  "She never left the house."

  Montgomery sighed. Seemed to like what he heard. "Anybody come to see her?"

  "A few visitors. A fat red-haired woman. Young couple. Well-wishers. None stayed long."

  The inanity of their task had fully set in as they watched the visitors come and go.

  It was less than a week after the woman lost her husband. Was it really so hard to believe that friends would stop in to check on her?

  The longer they sat, the colder they got.

  The colder they got, the angrier they became.

  By the time they returned home just after dark, both were ready to hop a plane for London.

  Neither had ruled it out yet.

  "Okay," Montgomery said. "Today was Sunday. Stay on her for two more days. If by then nothing has shaken loose, continue the list.

  "Just two remain. You will be out of Montana in less than a week."

  His tone was not yet pleading, but it wasn't far from it.

  Neither Raquel nor Hector said a word.

  Raquel disconnected the call. Flipped the video remote onto the table between them. Relaxed her body against the chair back.

  "What the hell are we doing here?" she asked.

  Hector remained completely rigid. Rested his elbows on the arms of the chair. Locked his fingers in front of his chin.

  "Making money."

  "We're not mercenaries," Raquel said. "We are business people. We h
ave a craft. This is bullshit."

  "Complete," Hector agreed.

  Raquel ran her eyes over to her partner. Noticed the way the dim light settled into the recesses of his shoulders, biceps.

  "What are you thinking over there?"

  "That this is bullshit," Hector said. "Money up front or not, there's no way in hell I'm watching that house for two more days."

  "Meaning?"

  "Meaning one more at most. If nothing changes, we're in the wind."

  Raquel nodded. She'd been thinking the same thing while sitting in their rental car all afternoon.

  "You're angry," she said softly.

  Hector dropped his hands away from his chin. Glared over at her, his eyes flashing black.

  "Aren't you?"

  Raquel stretched her hand towards him. Traced the outline of his burn scar with her fingertips. "Very."

  Hector's eyes went to her hand. Watched the outline of her light fingertips against his dark skin.

  "You know how I can be when I feel disrespected," he warned. "I can't promise I'll be gentle."

  "I was hoping you wouldn't be."

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Drake left a note on the kitchen counter. Told Ajax he was headed over early.

  He couldn't sleep anyway. Might as well get outside and move around.

  Maybe the cold early morning air would clear his head. Help align things for him.

  Suzy Q made no attempt to join him as he rose at half past five. Pulled on thermal underwear and a long sleeve shirt. Shrugged on running pants and a hooded sweatshirt over them.

  Mashed a hat down tight over his head. Gloves onto his hands.

  He didn't bother turning the heat on in the truck as he made the short drive over to the backside of campus. Parked at the base of Mount Sentinel.

  Despite the early hour, there was already a smattering of cars in the lot. A couple looked like they'd been there all night. Others appeared to have beaten him there that morning.

  Above him, a series of switchbacks cut an ascending diagonal line up the mountain face. Culminated over six hundred feet above the valley floor at the famed concrete M painted white on the mountainside.

  Drake ignored the trail for the time being. He and the Crew would descend it in a couple of hours when coming down from hiking the backside.

 

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