Baby Brother Blues (Sammy Dick, PI Series: Book 1)

by Trudi Baldwin

  Geo made a decision. His eyes met Kathy’s. “I’m goin’ up and taking the elevator. That way I might be able to come in from behind. If Soul Patch is expecting someone to follow, he’ll figure I’d take the same route Sammy did.”

  “That’s an okay plan, unless Soul Patch is back on the main floor. Geo, you don’t even know how to shoot a gun. I do. I should go up.”

  “No way. No way. Ever,” he replied firmly, but his voice was suffused with gentleness. “You stay here, Kathy. Hide. If I don’t come back, wait until you’re sure Soul Patch is gone, then call 911 and Sammy’s dad, right away!”

  On that note, Geo opened the condo door, revolver at his side. He paused briefly. Turned back to face Kathy. “I know it’s an inappropriate time to say this for the very first time, but I love you.” Then he shut the door behind him and headed to the elevator.

  Kathy started to cry.

  It took less than ten seconds for Geo to rush down the hall, wait for the elevator and reach the Penthouse Eye, because, in typical Geo fashion, Geo timed it. Geo knew he was most at risk when the elevator door opened on the foyer, so he made himself as small as possible in the front corner of the elevator so the wall would protect him as the door slid open. Geo strained to listen. No sound outside.

  Geo, who had no practice whatsoever with guns, put both hands on the revolver like he’d seen on TV and stepped fully into the elevator door opening. No one.

  Geo inched silently across the foyer toward the kitchen. He could see that Soul Patch and Mountain had left the living room patio door open out to the deck.

  When Geo reached the end of the foyer wall, he stopped again to listen. Still nothing. He heard a car horn honk three times far below. Then no further sound. Geo decided he could risk peeking out into the kitchen. At first glance, the entire main floor, at least what he could see, looked empty.

  As Geo scanned the living room and kitchen, though, he saw the open laptop on the kitchen counter. The draw of electronic data was overpowering. Geo waited a few moments longer, then slid along the marble floor toward the open laptop. Geo hit “Enter.”

  An ugly growl snarled up behind him. “I figured the little bitch’d have backup. Though you’re not much in the way of backup,” the French accent, laden with arrogance, froze Geo midstride.

  Geo spun to look behind him. Soul Patch’s wicked, death’s head smile flashed before Geo’s eyes. A split second later the sight of a two-by-four wooden plank filled Geo’s left field of vision. Blinding, splitting pain rocked his brain. Then he fell into blackness.

  As Geo slumped to the floor, it was everything Kathy could do not to cry out as she peeked around the foyer corner. The force of the blow sent Geo’s puny revolver flying back in the direction of the entrance, where it skittered across the floor only a foot or so from where she now hid.

  When Geo had confessed his love for her, Kathy had burst into tears as the door closed behind him. But the tears lasted only seconds. Then Kathy made her own decision, dried her eyes and followed.

  Now she darted her hand out and grabbed the skittering gun off the floor.

  She scooted back into the foyer for protection. No sound from anyone. Then smooth as silk, as if he were still selling, Soul Patch’s voice emanated from the kitchen.

  “What have we here?” He moved partially into sight and continued with his slimy monologue, “Little Missy Title Girl come to save her boyfriend. Ha, ha, ha! This whole situation just gets more and more amusing.” He was actually enjoying himself.

  Kathy watched in horror as Soul Patch slid fully into view, now in the middle of the living room, dragging Geo’s still body. Geo was bent over and Soul Patch held him easily by the back of his belt, a lifeless suitcase. Geo’s hands and feet dragged along the floor. Completely limp. Kathy’s heart broke.

  “Of course, your boyfriend’s no hero. He’s just a skinny, insignificant sack of shit, and he’s just about to pay the ultimate price. Right in front of you, too. It will give me so much pleasure, and then you’re next.”

  Kathy stood trembling, uncertain in the doorway. Geo hung completely still. Blood dripped from his head and face onto the tile. Frozen in position, Kathy did nothing as Soul Patch edged his way backwards toward the open deck door. Geo’s high-topped black tennis shoes bumped lifelessly along the floor as he went. A small trail of blood oozed out of Geo’s skull like a snail leaving a trail.

  It dawned on Kathy that Soul Patch intended to throw Geo over the edge. She’d have to act. She raised her gun, clicked off the safety latch, and steadied herself.

  Soul Patch chuckled, “Good try, Little Missy, but you don’t have what it takes to avert your boyfriend’s impending suicide here. While the whole world below tries to figure out what happened to him and is scraping his skinny, mangled body off the sidewalk, I’ll sneak out of here unscathed, never to be heard from again.”

  He paused for effect. “Two things you haven’t figured out, Missy,” he spat out the term missy like venom. “Number one, even if you’re brave enough to shoot, which I doubt you are, that little bitty gun you’re holding won’t hit the broad side of a barn, and two, much more to the point, I now have your girlfriend’s gun, all ready to blow you apart.” He reached behind him with one hand and produced a gun. He flashed it alarmingly at her, growling, “And this gun, unlike yours, is deadly accurate, and so am I.” Another demented chuckle.

  During this vicious little speech, Soul Patch kept backing away from Kathy, moving further out of range and away from her tiny revolver. Soul Patch edged closer and closer to the open deck door. Geo never moved once and the snail trail of blood now stretched all the way across the room.

  “I’m going to let you live just long enough to watch me throw this skinny little punk overboard, and then your life will be over, too.”

  Kathy kept her revolver aimed at Soul Patch’s head, but as she did so, she slid over to the foyer wall control panel. In one quick turn of the switch, she plunged the entire Penthouse into blackness. The only remaining light shone from the computer monitor screen. Caught out in the glaring sunlight, Soul Patch jerked his head about in surprise, then scooted even further out onto the deck. It was impossible for him to see Kathy in the darkened room. Kathy darted quickly to her right, then dashed silently toward the open door in soft, running strides, never once removing her aim from Soul Patch’s head. She remembered Sammy’s caution about the accuracy of the little revolver.

  Soul Patch’s gun was still aimed at the foyer where Kathy had last stood in his eyesight. He blinked twice, squinted and took aim, firing twice in succession into the blackness. The shots went wild but reverberated with shocking loudness in the Penthouse. Then he hefted Geo’s limp form up and over the edge.

  Kathy heard something behind her on the stairs but she was undeterred. Her entire being, pure and true, was focused on the task at hand.

  Chapter 44

  When the lights went out, Mountain and I stood at the edge of the kitchen trying to adjust our eyes swiftly to the darkness. Two shots rang out. Piercingly loud, echoing through the Penthouse.

  We both swung back into the stairwell for cover, but I still had a fair view of the dark room. I could just make out the barest outline of Kathy within a few yards of the deck door. She was racing toward its sunlit opening.

  I looked beyond her, out into the blinding light of the deck, and gasped. Soul Patch, wild-eyed, was swinging my Arcus erratically about, trying to find Kathy to take aim. But worse than that, he was simultaneously hefting Geo’s lifeless form up toward the top of the balcony railing. His deadly intent obvious to us all.

  My gaze spun back to Kathy and I tried to will her with every molecule in my body to shoot my fucking little useless revolver accurately.

  I had to give it to the girl, though. By now she’d stopped. Raised the revolver with both hands. Her right foot slightly behind her. Perfect shooter’s stance. Her body and resolve firm. Focused. Fierce!

  Bam! The third shot rang out, resounding throug
h the Penthouse Eye.

  Through the open patio door, Mountain and I watched Soul Patch in the stark sunlight. At the blast, his head jerked violently backwards. Blood spurted up in the air, a ring of red flew from his brow. He dropped Geo, who slumped in a heap on the deck floor. We watched in horrid fascination as the force of the shot blew Soul Patch’s forehead off with such intensity that he flipped away from us, like a gymnast doing a back flip in slow motion, over the deck wall. Dead, long before he ever hit the ground, I thought disjointedly.

  Not wanting to get shot myself, I whispered softly to Kathy’s back, “Kathy, it’s me, Sammy,” as I edged into the foyer and reset the lighting, flooding the room in light. Kathy remained in her shooter’s stance, trembling slightly, gun raised at the point where Soul Patch had last stood. She didn’t even look at us. Then we heard her voice: clear, angry, and steady, speaking to the spot where Soul Patch had stood. “Never, ever mess with the man I love. And that one, you motherfucker, was for Peepers!”

  Mountain and I swiftly made eye contact with each other and mouthed simultaneously, “Peepers? Who’s Peepers?” just as the sirens converged on us from all directions of the city. People must be calling 911 on their cell phones below. The body on the street would be the epicenter of the Phoenix universe for a short while.

  Kathy lay the gun down and ran to Geo’s slumped, lifeless form.

  Chapter 45

  In response to Mountain’s instructions, uniformed men and women began arriving on the scene, rushing out of the elevator door and into the Penthouse Eye like an NFL team galloping out of the locker room and onto the playing field for the Super Bowl. First the police rushed out of the elevator door, then the medics, then the detectives and investigators. An endless stream of professionals. The medics poked, prodded and bandaged. The investigators investigated. And the police and detectives looked at our motley crew with deep suspicion.

  Geo, who had regained consciousness in Kathy’s arms, now lay strapped to a gurney. A medic nestled an ice pack on the left side of his head while another medic measured Geo’s vital signs. Kathy held Geo’s hand like she’d never let go. Geo looked up at her doey-eyed, and it made me want to throw up. Except I was so glad that my partner had made it through alive, thanks to Kathy’s bravery.

  My respect for Kathy had skyrocketed after watching her competence in the face of danger. The medics determined Geo needed immediate hospitalization, but by now, Geo was coherent enough to yell out instructions about Soul Patch’s laptop. We could see Kathy still clutching his hand with both of hers as the elevator doors closed between us.

  One of the supreme advantages of working with Mountain is that he’s well respected within the police community. His standing has saved my ass on a number of occasions. But right now, he was intent on saving Kathy’s.

  Since Mountain was a witness to Kathy’s self-defense shot, actually saving her life as well as Geo’s, Mountain was making sure that everyone in the room knew the correct sequence of events, what led up to them, and everyone’s role in them. I noticed that the police had agreed to let Kathy leave with Geo after she gave her promise to be available for questioning. That was a good sign.

  Montaigne, seated on a dining room chair as medics attended to his head wound, was recounting in his deep, calm voice the events of the morning and previous, beginning with the death of Franklin Leary and the arson of the Phoenix title company. Before she left, Kathy had carefully explained to them about the explosion in Delaware, too, and all of her well-founded conjectures. Tears had streamed down her face as she explained about the brutal slashing of Peepers, her beloved cat.

  The detectives listened in fascination as the complicated story unraveled. Though our sting had detoured dramatically from the original plan, in its own explosive way, it had now burst open the ugly details of what I was sure would become one of the biggest real estate crimes of the decade. One for the history books. At least the real estate history books.

  The greatest evidence coup of the sting, though, was indeed the laptop. Since we’d had no opportunity to observe the dummy escrow deposit, Soul Patch’s laptop would become critical in untangling the devil’s deeds and exposing any accomplices and hidden accounts. I now felt confident that the police would have enough evidence to understand most of the chain of events. I had my doubts that very many, if any, of the escrow accounts would be returned to their rightful owners. Identifying and contacting the multiple owners of the Penthouse Eye and probably many of the condos would take years of sorting and investigating.

  I made a mental note to call Sylvester later and give him an update. I hoped little brother Sonny wasn’t involved. Only time would tell now.

  After Montaigne told his story, the medics carted him off to the hospital, too. Apparently when you lose consciousness, it’s a serious thing. Unlike Kathy, I didn’t hold Mountain’s hand as he walked away with two medics at his side, because I was mad at him for tricking me at my moment of vulnerability when he lay bleeding on the floor.

  Besides, I ached all over from Soul Patch beating me about the head and across my back. I didn’t even tell the medics in case they wanted to cart me off to the hospital too.

  When the police had asked me all their questions, at least for the day, it was after one o’clock in the afternoon. As the police gathered up the remaining evidence, I slipped out into the elevator and descended alone, making a quick stop at the condo below to pick up Geo’s precious laptop. The police had confiscated most everything in the Penthouse Eye that might aid in their investigation, including Soul Patch’s laptop and briefcase as well as Mountain’s borrowed briefcase and documents. I took the elevator to the lowest garage, beeped open the Mazda and drove home. We’d sort out the cars, baby monitors and transmitters later. At that moment, all I wanted was a long hot bath and some downtime.

  Chapter 46

  Fat chance on the downtime. I’d driven west away from the ill-fated Obsidian Tower. Behind me, sirens were still screeching like maimed cats converging upon the downtown scene of Soul Patch’s mangled body. I’d glanced briefly in that direction before gunning the Mazda toward home. Soul Patch’s body lay where his long drop had ended, now at the center of a target marked by yellow tape, ringed by gawkers and numerous police personnel scurrying about inside its perimeter.

  The back of my head hurt like hell. Twisting the rearview mirror toward me, I leaned up to assess the damage to my face. A bruise, streaked with red abrasions, was already blooming starting from my ear and spreading out across my left cheek. The thought of a long, hot shower followed by sweet sleep filled my brain. I pushed the Mazda faster, keeping an eye out for cops.

  My cell rang just as I was merging onto I-17 into traffic. “Yo?” I quipped, while punching the gas pedal to try and outrun a big cement truck. Not gonna block me from merging, buddy. I gave up and fell back into the pack. I pressed Speaker and set the phoneon the passenger side.

  Sobbing greeted me. “Sammy, Sammy. It’s time!”

  What… is somebody havin’ a baby? Who? The voice was so traumatized, I couldn’t ID the speaker. Female, probably, but who? Kathy? Delilah? Time for what?

  “It’s me, Sammy. Mai! Liang’s in trouble, I just know it. I need your help. It’s time to start listening in.”

  Holy fuck! Here I was. Sore all over. Geo in the hospital. Montaigne in the hospital. All my guns confiscated by the PPD. I’d managed to retain the knife in my leg sheath, but I could just picture myself trying to fight off the Chinese Triad with a leg knife. My Taekwondo skills would have to shift up to world-class status. I wasn’t even sure if I knew how to run the dang Snoops machine by myself.

  I decided I’d try to stall her. Maybe for two days. Then Geo and Mountain would be out of the hospital and I’d have some backup.

  “Mai, slow down just a minute. What’s happened? What’s got you so worried?”

  More desperate sobbing. Liang was obviously her Achilles heel, guaranteed to reduce her into jell-O.

  Then she snif
fled and started to talk. I settled the Mazda in behind the cement mixer. Tried to fix my attention on what Mai was saying.

  Damn the mixer! I was trapped behind the lead elephant on an opium safari. Was I cross-wiring my continents in my metaphors? Opium was Asia, right, safaris Africa? Or was it the other way around? My nerves were now spiking so rapidly I was losing it completely.

  Concentrate, Sammy. I slowed down further, focused all my attention on Mai. Tried not to even think about weaving through traffic.

  “I talked to him, Sammy. We cried together. We talked about how hopeless the relationship with Dad has always been. For once, Liang wasn’t evasive. I thought we had a true meeting of the minds. I love Liang and he loves me. It’s always been that way, no matter what anyone says.”

  Hard to tell, I thought, when the one you love is an addict, but I didn’t voice that out loud.

  “I’d arranged the whole thing,” she continued breathlessly. “Liang agreed to voluntarily enter into the private rehabilitation center, Sammy. I’d set up a 10 A.M. appointment for this morning, and he agreed to meet me there to sign himself in.” She broke down again.

  I watched the belly of the cement mixer in front of me go round and round and round, like a glacier inching its way through the Ice Age. Tried not to think about how to gun my Mazda out through the two narrowly spaced cars to my left and speed out of my dilemma, away from the opium safari. I was now exploring whole new continents in my metaphors. Even multiple eras. Focus!

  “I waited for two hours for him, but he never showed.” Desperate crying now.

  I heard her gulp in a lungful of air and try to steady herself. “But it’s worse than that.”

  “It is?!” I replied.

  “Much worse.”

  “How much worse?” I jammed my foot on the accelerator, skipped between the two vehicles to my left. Made a homerun slide into the third lane over. Safe! Fuck, yeah!