Corktown

by Ty Hutchinson

  “They’re too focused on Archie Becker. They don’t have a clue who we are, even after that night.”

  Preston looked into the calm eyes of his wife. “I’d like to keep it that way, but… you killed an FBI agent. Won’t that bring more attention?”

  “You must trust me, darling. I have no intention of messing up what we have.” She flashed her husband her trademark smile and gave his thigh one last squeeze, her way of saying, “Pull it together.”

  Katherine followed the rollercoaster path of a large blue and yellow butterfly in front of her. “I’ll tell you what; we’ll watch the agent for a few days and see what she knows, and then we’ll consider how we make our next move.”

  “That sounds much better,” Preston said as he stood. “Come on. Let’s find the boys. It’s feeding time for the lions.”

  The same butterfly now circled in front of him. Its wingspan nearly five inches from tip to tip. They both watched it land near the edge of the pathway. Preston stopped to admire the beautiful creature, before stepping down on it and twisting back and forth with his shoe. When he lifted his loafer, all that was left on the pathway was a bluish stain. Katherine simply smiled. The boys weren’t the only ones who loved the butterfly exhibit.

  52

  The Detroit heat was a sticky reminder that I was back on the case. I was the driver, so I said no to renting a yellow MINI and got myself a pair of balls—a three hundred horsepower Chevy Impala. It painted a nice analogy for where my mind was.

  I had two weeks to take these killers down and I wasn’t about to waste any time. Sending extra manpower could trigger the worst; the killers could get spooked and head back underground. They did it once; they could do it again. I needed them to think they were safe, that they could keep killing without any repercussions.

  I would have to count on Solis and Madero for more help—even White, though I still didn’t trust the old guy. They may not be the most effective allies, but I had to make it work. Those were the cards I’d accepted. I had to play them.

  That night at Belle Isle, Madero fell short on cutting off the SUV, but I had gotten a partial on the license plate—a long shot, but I hoped something would pop up. We also had a description on one of our killers. He was male, had blonde hair, stood roughly six feet tall and looked to be in shape. It sounded like any generic male, but a lead was a lead.

  Still, the kink in our investigation was discovering there were two of them. No one suspected a killing team. Nothing in the previous investigation or murders indicated there were two people involved. If they were a team now, were they a team seven years ago? I wished I knew the answer to that question.

  I had my personal take on what went down at Belle Isle. While we were busy watching the car, one of them watched us. I only had one question regarding that scenario: How did the other killer get the jump on Wilkinson?

  I finally arrived at my hotel at four in the afternoon. I had plans to unload my luggage and then head over to central precinct, but Solis called.

  “Agent Kane, we found her.”

  “Who?”

  “The fifth RR.”

  53

  Katherine Carter sat quietly in her Rover in the parking lot of Daimler Chrysler. She had been keeping tabs on Ellen Scott for a few weeks now and was busy making final preparations to set Preston loose on her as early as that night. Those plans went out the window when she saw the executive being escorted out of the building by the two detectives. She watched Ellen and one of them get into her car. They then followed another car out of the parking structure. Katherine reached for her cell and hit speaker.

  “Preston, dear, there’s a change of plans.”

  “What? Why? I was so looking forward to it. Must we?”

  “We must. It’s unfortunate, but the two detectives showed up at Ellen’s work, and they have just left with her. Now, I don’t want you to worry, but do you remember our emergency plans?”

  “Why are you asking me? Do they know it’s us?”

  “No, dear, but we must be prepared. I’m assuming they’re going to question her. Remember our plans, and everything will work itself out. I’ll call you later.”

  Katherine followed Ellen and the detectives. At first she thought they would whisk the executive away into protective custody, but when they pulled into a Coney Island, she realized there was no urgency. Once again, Katherine was in the mindset that Ellen’s time on Earth would be coming to an end.

  She waited patiently outside the Coney Island while she visualized scenarios of what could go wrong. None of it bothered her, of course. She had a plan in place should the police question Ellen at her office and discover something. She also had a plan in place should the police put Ellen into protective custody. Heck, she even had a plan if they decided to question her at a random location, like the one they were at.

  Katherine smiled and mentally patted herself on the back. Such stupid people.

  Her evil smile turned when the petite agent showed up. From the moment Kane had appeared on Katherine’s doorstep, wanting to question her, she disliked the woman. She couldn’t stand the way she looked: tiny, bouncy, and pretending to be tough. Ugh. It annoyed Katherine. It didn’t help that she couldn’t stand the way the agent walked, talked, laughed, and flipped her hair back; she obviously had a crush on her partner. That’s come to an end, hasn’t it? Ha!

  Anybody could have seen right through the agent’s pathetic defenses that day at the house. The way she looked at what’s-his-name, Katherine half expected Kane to start drooling uncontrollably. Even when they left, she walked closer to him than normal for people who worked together. Katherine didn’t blame Kane. She herself wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with the hunky agent. And while she did kill him, the only pleasure she received from it was knowing it would hurt the tough little crime fighter.

  She watched Kane cross the parking lot and enter the restaurant. I have a plan for you. I just thought of it. It’s very simple. Kill you last.

  54

  I walked by the row of red, vinyl booths until I reached the one Solis and Madero had squeezed into. A female executive dressed in an ash-gray skirt suit sat across from them. She had her red hair pulled back off of her pale face, giving me a clear look at her narrowing eyes and pursed lips. Not the reaction I was expecting. I pulled up a chair and sat in front of the booth.

  “Solis. Madero,” I nodded.

  Solis made the introduction. “This is Agent Kane. She’s with the FBI and is here to help.”

  I stuck my hand out. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms…”

  She uncrossed her arms. “Ellen Scott, but you may call me Ellen.”

  Solis started briefing me. “Ms. Scott identified herself as an RR during our interview two hours ago. She’s the director of Marketing—”

  “Public relations. I head up public relations for the company,” she quickly corrected.

  “She’s also aware that a killer has been targeting auto executives,” Solis continued. “Considering what happened to Becker, we thought it was important to get Ms. Scott into a secure location. We’re awaiting word on where it will be.”

  “Agent Kane,” Ellen said, “is it true that I’m next?”

  “We have reason to believe you are in danger. But you must know, the FBI, along with the Detroit Police Department, will do everything in our power to keep you safe. We’re not going to let any harm come to you.”

  “Really? I think about the others and how you failed to keep them safe and, well…”

  What’s with the attitude? We’re here to help. “Ellen, I know this is a difficult time for you, but I need to ask you a few questions.”

  “Fine.” Ellen went back to crossing her arms across her chest.

  “Tell me what you know about the Redline Rogues.”

  Ellen spoke frankly. “Dennis Walters was the leader, a very dynamic individual at the time. He was on the fast track to the top, and we were all enamored with him. He was the model of how to get ahead. So naturally, I and o
ther like-minded individuals were attracted to him—probably the reason why the group worked so well.”

  “Dennis started the group and then recruited people?”

  “That I’m not clear on,” Ellen said as she fidgeted with her nails. “I was the youngest and the last to join. The group had been established for almost a year before they recruited me.”

  “Why did they stop recruiting after you?”

  “Dennis wanted the group kept small so we could stay under the radar and push our agenda. Plus, we were the best.”

  I’m sure you thought you were. “Tell us about this agenda.”

  “Get ahead by any means possible. That was the goal.”

  “Looks like you cracked the big time,” Solis said.

  Ellen didn’t bother looking at either detective, preferring only to address me. “We all got what we wanted.”

  I turned to Solis. “What about the other RRs?” Before he could answer, Ellen started to speak.

  “Detective Solis asked me about that earlier, but as I told him, there were only five of us, not six.”

  Hmm. Hardin had been correct with his other information, why did he get this wrong?

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “I mean you were the last to join the group. Maybe there were others you didn’t know about or even a silent member.”

  “I highly doubt that,” Ellen said, her nose angled slightly up. “We divided the work evenly amongst us all. Plus, we each brought a skill set to the table.”

  “I understand that, but do you think it could be possible?”

  Ellen thought for a moment. “I guess, but I don’t understand why that person would be hidden from us.”

  “Or you,” I added. “Tell me about the group’s involvement with the plant closings in Flint.”

  “There’s not much to tell. At the time, the company rewarded employees that came up with cost saving initiatives. Dennis wanted to take advantage of it. We spent our weekends brainstorming at his place, sometimes ten to twelve hours a day.”

  “That’s where the idea to shut down plants was born?”

  Ellen looked at everyone at the table before speaking. “Yes. Closing plants would save GM millions. It would allow us to move the money saved into projects benefitting us.”

  “Are you for real?” Solis said. “Did you guys even think about the people who would get the axe, not to mention the public relations nightmare for the company?”

  “We did and we didn’t. Anyway, we felt if we could get the right support internally, we could pull it off.”

  “If a plant was underperforming, wouldn’t it be a no-brainer to close it?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “So what made this a brilliant, cost-saving idea if it was common practice to close a plant that didn’t do well?”

  Ellen hesitated for a moment and then looked me in the eye. “None of the plants we closed were underperforming. We falsified the information.”

  55

  They lied!

  I thought I had heard wrong, but Ellen continued to reaffirm what she said. “So GM closed plants that were doing just fine?”

  “Yes.”

  “What were you guys thinking? Thousands of individuals had their livelihoods ruined because of this decision.”

  “You don’t understand. We were young, hungry… Look, we had pressures to succeed.”

  I looked around the table at the others with my jaw unhinged. I couldn’t believe what she was saying. Pressure? Success? “You’re going to have to come up with a better answer than that.”

  Ellen jerked back. “Those plants were borderline. They could have made a turn for the worse at any moment. I don’t think we were wrong in making this recommendation—”

  “Just advantageous.”

  Ellen turned away, shaking her head.

  “Wouldn’t the company see that the plants didn’t need to be closed?” Solis asked.

  “Dennis was a master at numbers. He could bend them to support anything. Everyone had a role to play.”

  “And what about you?” I inquired. “Were you tasked with keeping people silent? Did you keep Eddie Bass silent?”

  Ellen shot me a darting gaze.

  “Surprise. Yeah, we know about Eddie Bass,” I said.

  “Eddie Bass was a liability,” Ellen shot back. “His big mouth always got him in trouble. How did you know about us?”

  Us? This is new. Keep her going, Abby. “His sister mentioned it. She said Eddie talked about you guys.”

  “Is he the one behind this, the killings?”

  “Eddie’s dead, Ellen.”

  Her posture deflated a bit. “Oh, I hadn’t heard.”

  “I doubt you heard much about what happened to all those workers,” Madero added.

  For once, I agreed with Madero. The three of us were disgusted with Ellen Scott. What she, the RRs, did for their selfish gains made me sick. And now we were charged with keeping that woman alive. The fact that we didn’t like her made it even tougher.

  “How did you keep Eddie from mouthing off more than he already had?”

  Ellen swallowed as she shifted in her seat. For the first time, she looked uncomfortable. “Sex and money,” she said bluntly.

  I gave Solis and Madero a look.

  “What?” Ellen asked indignantly. “It kept him quiet.”

  I didn’t expect to hear that. He was The Motor. “That’s it? Sexual favors and money?”

  “More or less.”

  “How much money are we talking here?”

  “Couple thousand. Eddie was a simple man.”

  “Had the plant already closed when these favors were given?”

  Ellen sat there, refusing to say anything else. I tried nicely to get her to talk, but she held her ground. And then she rolled her eyes.

  “You’re starting to piss me off. You know what happens when you piss off a federal agent?”

  Ellen looked away and then examined her nails before looking back at me. “Are you guys here to protect me, or are you here to investigate what happened years ago?” She leaned back and folded her arms, again.

  Temper, Abby. Temper. I took a breath and exhaled. “Look, we’re trying to help here.”

  “I’ve already said enough. Now, if you would excuse me.” Ellen motioned for me to get move over to the side.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’ve changed my mind about your help. I don’t want it. You did a terrible job at keeping Archie Becker safe. I have no reason to believe you can do any better for me. I’ll take my chances.”

  I scooted my chair over, still pleading with Ellen. She ignored me. We watched her storm out of the restaurant and drive away.

  56

  I didn’t care whether Ellen Scott died or not. She was no better than the killers. But the truth was, I needed her alive. So long as she was above ground with that sniveling look on her face, our killers would remain above ground.

  Hearing what the Redline Rogues did was despicable. I’m sure all Ellen cared about was covering her butt. She was the only one alive, and if the RRs were investigated, she would likely take the rap for it. What was better: dying at the hands of a vigilante killer or going to jail? I would have asked Ellen what she preferred, but her walking out on us gave me my answer.

  I had a job to do. If Ellen wanted to make it easier by offering herself up as bitch bait, fine by me.

  “Now what?” Solis asked.

  “We can’t afford to let anything happen to Ellen. If the killers get to her, I’m afraid they’ll go underground again. I want a car at her house. I also want the two of you on her.”

  “Got it.” Madero then picked up the menu while Solis motioned for the waitress.

  “What are you two doing? When I say I want you guys on her, that means starting now.”

  “But we haven’t eaten yet.”

  “Look, there are two places Ellen is probably heading to right now: back to work or home. Wherever she ends up, you can call to have a pizza de
livered to your location.”

  Madero rolled his eyes as he put the menu down. I didn’t care. He could stand to lose a few. I had two weeks. I couldn’t afford to have either one of them dragging their feet.

  “When she’s settled, let me know and I’ll meet up with you guys,” I called out as the detectives walked away.

  In the meantime I had plans to head back to Belle Isle. Someone watched us that night. I hoped a fresh look at the area would tell me who.

  57

  “Who does she think she is?” Madero whined. “I’m a grown man. She can’t tell me when I can and cannot eat. That’s bullshit.”

  Solis rolled down his window. “The sooner this case gets put to bed, the sooner she’ll be out of our business.”

  “Easy for you to say. She likes you. The bitch never speaks to me.”

  “Maybe it’s because you’re condescending to her.”

  “Fuck that. I’m condescending to everyone. Hey, our girl just made a left. Looks like she’s heading home.” Madero then made a hard right into a Taco Bell drive thru.

  Solis grabbed hold of the armrest to steady himself. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting some of my people’s food.”

  “Taco Bell is your people’s food?”

  “Close enough. We’ll be in and out. Plus, you got the address.”

  What Madero said was true. Taco Bell had reasonably good drive thru times. Unfortunately, the lady in front appeared to be making her very first trip to a fast food restaurant, and the menu board proved to be overwhelming.

  After what seemed like a half hour, Madero leaned into the horn. “Come on lady. It’s the same fucking ingredients, just rearranged differently. Shit, man.”

  “I always wondered about that. The only difference between a tostada and a taco is a tostada is flat. Why the two?”

  “It’s easier to eat a taco,” Madero said.