The Scorpion's Tale

by Wayne Block

  “Don’t be,” she said, as she sat down. “I only had an elevator ride.”

  Nick opened his shopping bag, withdrew the roses, and presented them to her. “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady.”

  “Thank you Nick, they’re my favorite color. That was extremely thoughtful!”

  “How was the rest of your day yesterday?” Nick asked as he sat down across from her.

  “I’m still jet-lagged, but I managed a quick visit with my aunts whom I hadn’t seen in years.”

  “Family is everything.”

  Giovanna smiled. “I couldn’t agree more.

  The waitress came by and they ordered.

  Do you have brothers or sisters?” Giovanna asked.

  “I had an older brother, but he’s dead. We were close. I don’t like talking about him.”

  “I’m sorry,” Giovanna said.

  Nick gazed at her inquisitively. Her beauty was incomparable. “I spoke to my uncle and I can’t believe why you are in New York.”

  She returned his stare. “I need your family’s help. My brother, father, and mother were murdered, and I’m here to ..”

  “What?” Nick interrupted. “Seek revenge?”

  “To learn the truth,” she said softly.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice. It’s just that things have been crazy lately.”

  Gia sipped her water and said nothing.

  “Even if you learned the truth, tell me what you would gain, Do you think anything you do will change things? Your brother and parents are dead. You can’t bring them back.”

  “But I can bring their killers to justice!” she snapped.

  Now it was Nick taken aback by the unexpected outburst. Her eyes flashed anger, then quickly softened.

  “I know something about these murders,” Nick said. “I have a friend who is already involved. His wife and daughters were killed.”

  “How old were his daughters?” she asked.

  Nick looked away as his thoughts returned to Amanda. “The oldest girl was two. The youngest was still in her mother’s womb. I’ve already placed one of my friends in great danger, and don’t wish to do the same with you.”

  Giovanna smiled sincerely, thinking of all the men who had protected her. “I’m grateful for your concern. I won’t try to be a heroine. Whatever information I learn, I will provide to the authorities. I’m just asking you to help me find out who was involved and why this happened to my family.”

  Nick thought about his older brother who had also been killed.

  The waitress appeared with their food. “Anything else I can bring you?”

  Nick checked with Giovanna to make sure she was all right, and then addressed the waitress. “Everything looks great. We’re good for now.”

  Giovanna smiled approvingly. “Thanks for including me, you get excellent marks for manners. You wouldn’t believe how many men completely forget they’ve got company at the dining table, and if their needs are met, all is right with the world. Their date could be starving and they’d be completely oblivious.”

  Nick smiled at her candor. “My uncle believes a man should always be a gentleman.”

  “He’s obviously a wise man. You have a wonderful role model.”

  “Yes I do, but you can turn off the charm. I’m already hooked. We’ll do a little reconnaissance work and see what information we can dig up, but on one condition. If I think it’s getting dangerous and I want to pull the plug, we’re done. No questions, no arguments. You walk away when I say so.”

  “Is that your final offer?” she asked defiantly.

  “Absolutely.”

  “I’ll have to think about it. I don’t do well with ultimatums, even from someone as charming as you.”

  Nick rolled his eyes. “Think about it all you want. Those are my rules, but flattery will get you everywhere with me. It soothes my battered ego.”

  “What’s your plan?” she asked.

  “I’ve got a few ideas,” Nick continued. “We’ll check out the corporate records at Tony’s company.”

  Giovanna seemed confused. “Haven’t the police already reviewed them?”

  Nick snickered. “Not all of them. I know a few places where they wouldn’t have looked. Finish your breakfast and we’ll go for a ride.”

  -------------------

  Steven slept fitfully as thoughts of his girls turned to a nightmare. The shrill sound of his nine o’clock wake-up call jarred Steven from his brief respite. He opened the mini-bar, removed a small bottle of Johnnie Walker and a package of pretzels, and drained the scotch straight from the bottle as he inhaled the pretzels. He chased down the scotch with a can of cranberry juice. Voila, he thought to himself – breakfast, Las Vegas style. Steven wore khaki shorts, a tee shirt, and, of course, his new hiking boots with a pair of thick socks. He threw on a baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses, and stuffed three bottles of water into a small shoulder bag.

  The drive to Red Rock Canyon was an adventure in and of itself. Harry, his cab driver, had spotted Steven leaving the hotel and had immediately zeroed in on him. Harry jumped out of his cab and quickly whisked Steven away from his competitors before Steven could object. The driver was obviously unconcerned with business etiquette as the other cab drivers screamed at him for butting the line.

  Harry was a chatty Nevada native who felt duty-bound to provide Steven with a detailed history of the state. At first, Steven resented the intrusion into his privacy. He wanted to consider the possible scenarios that might develop with Billy Veeksburn. He grudgingly allowed Harry to drone on, staring out the window and nodding occasionally to indicate he was listening. As Harry pointed out historical landmarks and points of interest along Charleston Boulevard, Steven began to succumb to the driver’s cowboy charm.

  Steven scrutinized Harry through the rearview mirror. Harry was in his late fifties or early sixties, with dark eyes and tan, leathery skin covered with a two-day stubble. He had long, stringy, gray hair, tied in a ponytail with a rubber band, and a bushy handlebar moustache. He wore an orange bandana loosely tied around his head and was definitely a throwback to an earlier age.

  “Just tell me when you want me to shut up,” Harry interjected. “If you remain silent, I’ll assume you are either fascinated or asleep. Either way, I’ll keep talking.” Steven chuckled, and Harry continued his soliloquy about the history of Las Vegas.

  As the cab cruised down the highway, Steven could see striking red colored sandstone hills in the distance. He noted the various geographical formations and striated color patterns, which seemed to change as the cab moved closer to the park. As if reading Steven’s thoughts, Harry pointed out that the canyon was a contrast of red sandstone layered in gray limestone.

  “We used to come out here as teenagers and climb these cliffs. They get as high as 2,000 feet. I lost a few friends out there over the years. You drink a few too many beers, mix in some tequila as a chaser to some peyote or acid, and those rocks come alive.”

  “Well, Harry, hopefully I’m not going to do much climbing today.”

  “As long as you’re not ingesting peyote buttons, you’ll be fine.”

  Steven laughed, but said nothing.

  Harry looked at Steven through the rearview mirror. “What exactly did you say you were doing out here?”

  Steven looked at his tour guide. “Well, Harry, I’m an aspiring geologist who adores rocks.”

  Harry chortled. “Good one. Should I believe that?”

  Steven stared coldly at him. “All you have to know is that I like rocks and I’m going for a walk.”

  “Sure thing, pal. The visitor’s center is over there,” he said, pointing to the nearest building.

  Harry parked in front of the building. “Don’t forget to get a trail map.”

  “Thanks,” Steven said, closing the door. “Just wait here for me.”

  “Absolutely,” Harry grinned. “You’re on the clock and it’s your dime!”

  Steven ignored the com
ment and entered the building. He emerged a few minutes later, map in hand. He glanced at his watch. It was 12:20 p.m. “Okay Harry, take me to Turtlehead Peak Trail, and step on it!”

  Harry looked back at Steven with a quizzical expression. “Of all the trails in the park, why the hell would you want to do that one? For Christ sake, man, the temperature is over ninety degrees and getting hotter! Let me show you some easier trails.”

  Steven had the map spread out on his lap. “Nope,” he said, without looking up.

  They drove in silence until Harry turned down Sandstone Quarry Road and into the parking lot. There were quite a few tour buses and cars already parked. Several small groups were approaching the trail.

  “The trailhead is over there, amigo,” Harry said, pointing.

  Steven noticed the signs for Turtlehead Peak. He got out and leaned against the cab to stretch his hamstrings.

  “Wish me luck, Harry. How long do you think it will take to walk the trail?”

  Harry considered Steven’s physique as he pondered the question. “Are you going to the summit?”

  “I’m going as far as these legs will take me.”

  “The guides say three to four hours, but they go slow and stop frequently. If you walk at a brisk pace without stopping, it should take you a little more than two hours each way.”

  Steven looked impressed. “That’s a lot of walking.”

  Harry smiled. “Just think of it this way. You will be dead tired when you get back, but I’ll be relaxed and well-paid!”

  Steven frowned and shook his head. “Just wait for me.”

  Harry leaned back against the front seat, picked up his cowboy hat and tilted it over his eyes. He cranked up a song by Tim McGraw. “In a while, crocodile,” he said, barely audibly from underneath the hat.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Steven realized he had not budgeted enough time to meet Veeksburn by the two o’clock deadline. He passed slower hikers in the first few minutes and learned his quickness was born out of naiveté. The heat radiating off the limestone rocks turned the trail into a kiln.

  The number of hikers dropped dramatically after the first quarter-mile. The amateurs were being culled. Still, Steven quickened his pace, motivated by vague whispers of his daughter. He was still in great shape from his golden glove boxing days. Steven no longer was glad he had purchased hiking boots and wished he had used his worn-in sneakers. If he’d had time to break them in, he wouldn’t have to deal with the blisters that were already forming. The trail became steep and rocky, giving Steven a glimpse of its true difficulty. Steven used his hands to grab rocks and scramble over a dry waterfall; in the process, he cut himself in several places. He stopped and glanced at his watch. It was 1:35. So much for reaching the peak by 2:00, he thought. He’s an asshole for making me come out here in the first place!

  Steven followed the trail, which slowly ascended to the saddle and the summit ridge. Three young women were seated on a blanket having a picnic and drinking wine. One of the women looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t place her. It was 2:30 and Steven didn’t see anyone else. He sat on a flattened rock beyond the visibility of the women and finished his second bottle of water.

  “Hell of a view, ain’t it?” a voice from behind him shouted.

  Steven turned to see a pair of long, muscular, tanned legs standing ten feet behind him.

  The man moved closer to the edge, parallel to Steven. “You’re late,” he said, smiling arrogantly.

  “Billy?”

  Billy Veeksburn laughed. “One and the same, Capresi.”

  Steven studied him for a few seconds. Billy was rugged looking with life experience chiseled into his face from years of exposure to the desert sun. He had a high forehead framed by stringy, shoulder-length, dirty-blond hair. “I’m surprised you waited,” Steven remarked.

  Billy cackled as he sat next to Steven. “Look out there,” he said, pointing into the desert. “Where the hell do you think I was going?” He smiled as he took a sip of water. “I was just trying to motivate you to be punctual. With my binoculars I could see you coming from the trailhead, so I caught up on some reading.” He pointed to a Playboy protruding from his backpack.

  Steven looked quizzically at Billy. “How the hell did you know it was me?”

  Billy smiled. “Just a good hunch,” he chuckled.

  “Did I miss something? What’s so funny?”

  “It wasn’t exactly a hunch,” he coughed loudly and turned his head away. “Sorry. That’s from years of smoking. I couldn’t kick the habit so I got the ‘Big C.’ It could be worse. I could have had emphysema, and we would have had to meet somewhere else. But as I was saying, I was there when you checked into the Venetian yesterday, and I followed you around the hotel for an hour.”

  Steven looked at him incredulously. “Son-of-a-bitch! I knew someone was following me!”

  Billy shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry man, it’s what I do. I just wanted to see who Charlie was pushing on me.”

  Steven thought about how Billy Veeksburn had seen him coming for miles and how he had been followed at the hotel. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Why the hell did you make me come out here? Couldn’t we have met for a beer?”

  Billy smiled and looked pensively into the distance, giving Steven a good look at his mangled left ear.

  Billy knew Steven was inspecting his ear. “A real thing of beauty, isn’t it? That was a parting gift from the man you’ve come to see me about. I had you come out here for a number of reasons. First, I can see everything for miles and I don’t have to worry about someone sneaking up on me. Second, nobody’s going to get a long-range rifle shot off out here, because I’ve got the only vantage point for miles. Third, there are usually a bunch of people on the summit, and if anyone tries killing me, he’s gonna have to kill everyone else. Finally, if you happened to be somebody who I didn’t like, I knew the hike would leave you weak, especially since you stupidly purchased new boots. I bet you’ve got blisters on your blisters!”

  Steven ignored the insult. “Did you think I came here to kill you?”

  “No, I was never worried about you. But I am worried about someone else.”

  Steven turned his face toward Billy. “Charlie thinks you’ve seen him. Tell me what he did to you.”

  “You mean Charlie didn’t tell you?” Billy said in amazement.

  “He said he didn’t know for sure.”

  Billy took a few chugs of water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Why the hell should I tell you anything? No disrespect intended, but you mean absolutely nothing to me. You’re just some guy from New York whose family was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I feel sorry for you, but that doesn’t mean I want to stick my neck out.”

  “I understand if you don’t want to talk to me. But you came this far, so that means something.”

  Billy frowned at Steven, the folds of skin beneath his eyes wrinkling. “And yet you still came out here to ask me that question, knowing I’d most likely tell you to jump off this cliff?”

  Steven heaved a sigh and looked directly into Billy’s veiled eyes. “I had to take that chance. I’m going after this guy no matter what.” Steven cast his eyes downward and drew imaginary figures on the sandstone rock. Then he looked up and cracked a thin smile at Billy. “I don’t have to make you understand. As you put it, you’re nothing to me but a source of information. But since I’m out here with nowhere else to go, I’ll tell you, because in the end, it really doesn’t matter.”

  Billy sat back, finished his bottle of water, and made himself as comfortable as possible on the hard rock surface, ready to listen.

  “My father was murdered when I was a kid. He was a really good guy and worked hard to provide for us.” Steven smiled as he recalled his father. “They never found the killers. Anyway, after his death I turned my back on God. It wasn’t until I met my wife that I began changing. She was loving and compassionate and, in a
way, she brought me back to life. I remember praying the night my daughter was born, because Amanda had complications. That night I committed myself to God as long as he protected my wife and daughter.”

  Billy gazed into the distance, but said nothing, moved by Steven’s words.

  “So, Billy,” Steven continued, “when I lost my wife and children, it was the second time God betrayed me. If tracking down this killer means I have to throw my lot in with Satan, then so be it! When I find him, I will kill him. And then, Billy, it will be over, and I can die fulfilled.”

  Billy whistled, and shook his head. “Wow, that’s certainly a lot to lay on a guy on a first date. But it’s your life, man.”

  “No,” Steven responded, “it’s my destiny.”

  Billy frowned. “Hell, if you’ve already made your pact with the devil, who am I to stand in your way? I might even make it easier for you to get down there faster,” he said, grinning. “And at least I’ll know someone when I get to the party!” Billy laughed until he started coughing again. “I believe Charlie told you how I met the Scorpion.”

  “He told me you were involved in a police chase and that there was an accident.”

  Billy frowned. “There never was a chase. I was just stupid. I wanted a look at the man nobody had ever seen, and I thought I was smart enough to pull it off. I was instructed to deliver a car to the Scorpion after a hit. Instead of leaving, as instructed, I waited for him. It was early evening and there was a huge, well-lit billboard off the road on a sand dune. It was surrounded by thick shrubs and prairie grass, which provided good cover. The car was positioned so I would have a perfect view of his face as he drove away.”

  “So what went wrong?” Steven asked.

  “He drove up on a motorcycle. I heard the bike, and I saw it coming down the road. He pulled up behind the car and walked around to the driver’s side like he was going to get in, only he continued walking around the car and disappeared into the brush. The next thing I know, there’s a gun pressing against my head. He quietly tells me not to move a muscle. I literally pissed my pants, laying there in the sand.”