Mountain was moving along like the pro he was, but now Soul Patch, like the slime ball he was, turned the tide. “Of course, just as you weigh the soundness of your investment, so must we.”
“Whoa, now we get to the tricky part,” I whispered to no one in particular, since no one was listening to me. I glanced around the condo. Kathy and Geo were staring at the receiver, so immovable and intense, I felt if I tapped them with a ball peen hammer, they’d shatter into pieces. Geo’s baby monitor idea was actually working quite well, though I wasn’t in the mood to give him any credit right at that moment.
“What does that involve?” we heard Mountain inquire.
“It’s quite simple really. You wire in your deposit to our Madrid office where it’s cashed and held in escrow for the next six months. During that time, we conduct the research to assure ourselves that you will qualify for the remainder of the loan. If all goes well, then, voila, the landmark Penthouse Eye is yours to move into in six months and you and your wife own a piece of property of incomparable status. If not, your deposit is released back to you in full. It’s all in the contract right here. You are solidly protected by this contract and the sound oversight of the title company.”
We could hear the rustling of papers. “My solicitor in London will need to be your main contact,” Mountain responded per Kathy’s earlier tutoring.
“Most certainly. We conduct many stages of our transactions through agents, lawyers and solicitors. As you well know, that’s how most of the business in the world gets done,” Soul Patch crooned smugly, sensing the prey was just about to step into the trap.
“We can secure your right to own this property today, right here on this granite slab that your wife is going to be enthralled with. It’s simple: you are completely covered in the contract, should anything fall through. We deal solely through American and International Title, one of the most respected title agencies in the world.” I could picture in my mind’s eye Soul Patch caressing the sleek countertop and luring Constantine into his lair.
Finally, Geo spoke. “LeGrande, or whoever he is, has got to have an elaborate system in play to deal with all of these professionals and be able to continue with his scheme.”
“Yes,” Kathy agreed, “and I’ll bet he doesn’t really care about researching the buyer’s ability to qualify for the loan. Once the title end of the deal is controlled through false documentation, it would be fairly difficult for other agencies to understand what’s going on, since everything’s still in the escrow stage.”
“All he wants is for each escrow wire to go through. He’s way past caring about the soundness of the loans,” I added. “That has no relevancy to him. Plus, I think part of the success of this scheme is that the kinds of people who can afford the Penthouse Eye or even one of these condos, usually as one of their many homes, simply don’t have to pay as close attention as the rest of us. For someone like the deceased Constantine Friar, the three million needed for this home is small potatoes.”
“He’s banking on the good name of American and International Title to see him through. And so far it has.” Kathy concluded with harshness in her voice. “I suspect he has at least one other partner in on this scheme who fields questions from solicitors and other agencies. His many buyers must be getting a little antsy by now, though. If this build goes much past three years, they are going to start doing some serious research of their own.”
“I think that’s why Soul Patch has shifted into desperation mode. His gig’s about up. I’ll bet he’s got a hidey hole all scoped out somewhere. We need to get this snake arrested fast, before he slithers down into it.” For once Kathy nodded in vigorous agreement with me.
We grew instantly silent as Mountain spoke again. “Well, that’s all very reassuring. Let’s see the remainder of this magnificent home, and if I like what I see, I’ll sign on the dotted line.”
“Well done, Montaigne,” Kathy said, and, for some reason, upon hearing Kathy’s acknowledgement, my chest swelled with pride over Mountain’s undercover prowess.
LeGrande’s oily reply bordered on nauseating. “Most certainly, Monsieur Constantine, most certainly…” I could almost envision him rubbing his hands together as their voices faded. I assumed they were moving away from the kitchen monitors and toward the stairs.
We grew increasingly tense every time their voices went out of range. We collectively began to breathe again as they emerged into the second story. Soul Patch could be heard saying, “A twenty-seat home theater, a gaming room, two offices, and four bedrooms, each with their own environmental control system.”
Then a huge crash burst through the monitors.
“Holy fuck! What was that?” All three of us jumped upright in unison, adrenaline coursing through our veins like lightning rods enduring a direct hit.
“Hold on. Hold on. Maybe something fell over,” Geo warned.
“What should we do?” Kathy croaked out.
“Listen a little longer,” Geo commanded in his Big Doggie voice.
“What’s this?” We heard Soul Patch’s voice, harsh and urgent.
Then we heard another crash, and another. Followed by another. It sounded more like scaffolding falling over, rather than gun shots. Mountain had no gun. No one knew what Soul Patch carried, if anything.
“I’m going up!” I yelled, grabbing my Arcus semi-automatic. “Geo, take the revolver.” I shoved the Smith and Wesson in his hands. “You’ll have to be right next to the bastard to get any accuracy, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
I watched Big Doggie look down at the gun in his hands and go dead white. Then I ran for the stairs. Took them three at a time up two landings to the fire entry of the second floor of the Penthouse.
Stuck my ear against the door. Silence. No baby monitor with me now, so silence might just be from the thickness of the door. What to do? Open the damn door, Sammy.
I gingerly opened the door. A soft moaning sound somewhere inside. Hard to tell, but my guess was the moaning was Montaigne. Fuck! I was never going to forgive myself.
I opened the door wide enough to slide through. I was in the home theater. Makes sense for a fire exit to be attached to the twenty-seat home theater. The Arcus was in both my hands, arms extended, my legs in a semi-crouch position. I scanned the floor first left, then right repetitively as my dad had taught me to do. No one. The only sound was the intermittent moaning. Male. Montaigne, I was pretty sure.
I reached the home theater entrance, my heart racing at such a pitch that I stopped and attempted to regain control just inside the door. I sucked in a big breath, calmed myself and prepared for the life-threatening turn I was about to make around the corner and out into the hall. Sweat burst out under my arms and trickled down. The moaning stopped. No sound at all now. I sucked in a deep breath, steeled myself into position, and swung my body in a practiced turn out into the hall.
Conducted a rapid arc scan again. No one. I sucked in air again and forced myself into the still calm of awareness. I began to unravel the tell-tale signs of the struggle. A baby monitor transmitter lay smashed against a wall, the antenna broken off. A scaffolding lay on its side, pushed up against a door. Soul Patch must have spotted a baby monitor.
A moan sounded again. It came from behind the door that was barred by the overturned scaffolding. Montaigne. For sure.
I began to inch my way along the hall toward the sound of his moan. Another incongruous thought flitted through my over-wrought brain: My entire adult life has been spent inching my way toward Mountain in one way or another. I would have laughed out loud if we weren’t both about to die at the hands of Monsieur Soul Patch.
Then speak of the fucking devil, one of the other closed doors opened and out slithered the man himself. With his hands in the air. Surprise, surprise!
“Well, hello, Tina. I should have suspected you from the start. You never were overly friendly.”
“My name’s not Tina. It’s Sammy, dude. Sammy Dick. And you’re just about to
get your own dick shot off, if you don’t keep those hands of yours high in the air.” I pointed the Arcus straight at his crotch for emphasis. He didn’t look very scared. That was worrisome.
I kept up the tough guy voice. “Keep your hands in the air, move over and pull that scaffolding away, so I can see what’s going on in that room. I warn you, though, one false move and your dick’s history.” One of my favorite parts of the job was saying stupid stuff like that with a straight face. I looked at him with deadly intent. He walked calmly toward the scaffolding, his hands still in the air.
“I’m going to have to lean over and put my hands down to get the scaffolding,” Soul Patch said, looking me a little too calmly in the eye, at least for my taste.
“I get that, shithead. Just don’t make any funny moves while you’re doing it.”
I watched as Soul Patch leaned over and carefully hefted up the heavy scaffolding until it rested back on its wheels.
“Now, slide it away from the door. Then open the door for me, so I can see inside that room.” I edged closer to the door and to Soul Patch, positioning myself to see inside once he opened the door.
Soul Patch was being extremely compliant. I relaxed some, but kept the gun pointed straight at him. I wasn’t sure what to do next. I needed backup, but now that the monitor was broken, I assumed Geo and Kathy were operating in total silence, unsure what to do.
Soul Patch had maneuvered the scaffolding between me and the closed door and was reaching down to turn the gilded French door handle. He pulled it down slowly and pushed the door outward. I sidled over to a spot where I could see in.
What I saw sickened me. Montaigne lay face down on the floor, blood oozing from his head. I watched in horror as he tried to push himself up into a crawling position. His eyes met mine and then he collapsed back into the slick pool of his own blood. Holy fuck, I’d killed my beloved through my own crazy actions!
As I stared at Mountain, a swirling emptiness surged upward from my stomach into my chest and headlong into my throat. I felt like I’d passed over the first hill on an enormous roller coaster. I was losing altitude fast on a ride that’d rush downwards forever. My head swirled. My knees went weak.
That was my first mistake—focusing on Mountain instead of Soul Patch! A swishing sound hissed through the room. Soul Patch flung himself against the wheeled scaffolding with all his strength, swinging it so hard against me that my entire body flipped backwards, lifting me off my feet like an explosion had smacked me. The Arcus flew through the air. Skittered along the polished wood flooring somewhere behind me. Even as I went down, I frantically shifted my head to see where it went.
That was my second mistake. Soul Patch crossed the floor in two strides and leapt on my back just as I crashed down, face-first, grabbing my hair like a cruel jockey. He held my hair with one hand and began slugging the back and sides of my head with his other. Then he kneed me in the back with all his might.
“I’m in control here. Not you!” he hissed at me.
Two could play at the horsey game, you freak. I shifted my butt up in the air and kicked so high that we both went over in a big tumble. Now he was flat on his back on the floor, and I was on top of him. The only trouble was that I was facing upwards too. Not a position of strength.
A fraction of a second passed as we both assessed our new predicament, then began scrambling frantically for the upper hand. He was grabbing all over to contain me, but I flipped like an eel onto my belly and zipped my legs up onto his arms, pinning him against the floor. There was no time to lift my pant leg and unsheathe my stiletto, but out of the corner of my eye, I could see some flat nylon cord dangling from the scaffolding. My plan was to flip him to his front and bind his hands behind him like handcuffs. It would take some speed and a lot of strength, but I had both. I’d had time now to assess his abilities. I surpassed him in both categories.
“Sammy, Sammy.” I looked up and Mountain’s head was sticking out the bedroom door where he’d managed to crawl. Then he fell in a heap.
That’s when I made mistake number three. In the time it took for me to register Mountain, Soul Patch flipped me over, like a roped calf, and forcibly tied my hands behind my back. So much for my quickness and strength.
Then Soul Patch jerked my head back, grabbing my hair again as he dragged me awkwardly to my feet.
What was it with this guy and the hair pulling?
Soul Patch aimed me at the bedroom door, jerked my head back another time, just to show off. Then he growled with trembling anger. “Get in there with him!”
I would’ve resisted more, but I really did want to get into the room with Mountain, so I let myself be kicked and prodded into the room. Soul Patch thrust me inside. Slammed the door shut. I could hear him fiddling around outside. I assumed he was tying the door shut with some more of the nylon cord. Difficult to do, since it was also attached to my wrists.
There was no way for Soul Patch to know if there were more of us or not. I figured he was now racing down to the kitchen to grab his computer and briefcase and get the hell out of the Tower to slide into his preplanned hidey-hole.
He’d won.
We’d failed.
At this point, I didn’t much care what the hell Soul Patch was doing, though. I wanted to find out if the future love of my life was going to make it through to that far-off future. Since my hands were tied behind my back with nylon rope, which was also tied to the handles of the door outside, movement was awkward. Mountain’s still form lay right next to me. I knelt down over him. Kneeling jerked my hands and arms up behind me because of the short tether.
Mountain lay there on his back, staring sightlessly upwards. A pool of blood, still dripping, encircled his head like a red halo. I leaned in closer, gazing into his eyes, searching for signs of life. His beautiful brown eyes!
No response. He just lay there, bleeding a slow drip, drip from a gash on his forehead as he continued the sightless stare. At least the drip was slowing. I didn’t think he could bleed out from a head wound, but what did I know?
“Mountain? Mountain?” I pleaded.
Nothing. No movement or awareness. I started to cry. I began to plead in even deeper earnest.
“Mountain. You have to stay alive. Where would I be without you in my life? I can’t imagine a world without you in it somewhere.”
More tears began streaming down my cheeks. “I know I’ve been unavailable to you. I know I get you into trouble all the time. It’s obvious that you care about me and would do almost anything for me. I just want to say I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
As my tears fell across his face a feeble movement finally rippled through his features. I watched in expectation to see if he’d regained consciousness. Then a slight smile formed on his lips. His brown eyes opened fully and sought mine. I searched for recognition. The smile grew a little larger. “I was waiting for you to say you were sorry at least twice,” he said softly, as his eyes transformed into full awareness.
Well, now I was pissed. “Mountain! How dare you take advantage of me like that! When I’m pouring my heart out to you and so worried about you.”
“Come here,” he said gently. “I need to tell you something.”
I leaned in closer to his lips. My bound hands jerked up behind me even further. I was losing circulation in my arms and shoulders, but who cares, I thought, as Mountain lifted a wobbly hand up and pulled my head down to his. He kissed me then, such a sweet, deep and tender kiss that I will never forget it.
But then true to form, he released me and turned all business-like. “We have work to do. Any suggestions on how we get out of here?”
I would have been pissed again, but he was right, so I responded, “Actually, I do have a suggestion.” I awkwardly shifted my right leg out from its kneeling position to stretch it straight out sideways.
“Raise up my pant leg, Mountain.”
“Sammy, even though that was the best kiss I’ve ever had and, trust me, I’d love to get more intimate
with you, now is not the time.”
Alright, now I was genuinely pissed! “Mountain! I’m not asking you to have sex with me. Just lift up my damn pant leg!”
Wincing with pain, Mountain dutifully rolled over onto his left shoulder, reached out with his right hand to shift my pant leg up, revealing the lovely stiletto.
“Wow, Sammy, I’ve never known you to plan ahead so well.”
Now I was even more pissed. “Pull out the damn stiletto, Mountain. And for your information, I wasn’t planning ahead, I was trying to impress you with my sexiness.”
“Sammy, girl, I’m always impressed by your sexiness, with or without a stiletto strapped to your leg.”
“Well, cut these damn handcuffs off of me with the stiletto and let’s get the hell out of here.”
“I don’t know, Sammy, I kind of like you in this position.”
“Mountain, if you don’t release me this very second, I will never, ever, ever…”
He dragged himself up finally and sawed through my nylon bindings. I grabbed the stiletto back as soon as my hands were free because I could see he was still wobbly. I turned swiftly, slid the stiletto into the slot between the closed doors and sawed our way to freedom. We cautiously opened the door. No one in sight. Neither was the Arcus. Worrisome.
Suddenly, we heard Soul Patch’s voice, muffled and unclear, coming up the stairs from the main floor below. Silently, I motioned with my head to Mountain to follow me down the stairs. We crept down cautiously. With each step down, Soul Patch’s voice grew clearer. Unfortunately, every word he said was disturbing.
We reached the kitchen. Then all the lights went out.
Chapter 43
After Sammy had left for the Penthouse, Geo stared quietly at the revolver in his hands. He had no idea how to use it. He didn’t even know if the safety latch was on or off, and now neither he nor Kathy could hear a thing through the baby monitors. Geo knew the whole damn sting had blown up in smoke, and worse yet, not one sound could be heard from either Sammy or Mountain. Shit!
Baby Brother Blues (Sammy Dick, PI Series: Book 1) Page 35