While walking back to my car, after buying my shirts, I happen to notice a stunning beautiful woman walking across the parking lot. I did a double take thinking I knew her, but I couldn’t think of from where. She walked up to a Mercedes convertible, parked in the fire lane and slipped seductively into the passenger seat. As I walked, I couldn’t help but watch her and then I glanced at the driver to see what the lucky guy looked like. I thought it was probably a rich old man out with his trophy wife.
I could have been knocked over with a feather when I realized who the driver was. It was Nolan, Michael Nolan, the big biker man from The Wild Rose. He was wearing a suit and tie, his hair was in ponytail and he was driving a Mercedes. I knew I’d seen that woman before and I was shocked to see them in a setting that wasn’t involving a Harley and leather clothing.
I found myself hurrying to my car. I wanted to know more about Michael Nolan and what he did for a living to be able to afford to go slumming with the biker gang at night and on weekends then drive around in a Mercedes during the day. They had gotten a bit of lead on me when they left the mall, because I got stuck at the traffic light at the mall entrance. Thankfully they got stuck at the very next light on Kingston Pike which allowed me to sneak up behind them four cars back in the heavy traffic.
Nolan didn’t seem to be in hurry. He putted along through traffic only speeding up to avoid being stopped by traffic lights, which made keeping up with him difficult to say the least. He and the woman were headed back towards downtown which prompted me to check my watch. It was one thirty and I was to meet Holston at two, back out Kingston Pike at the House of Ale. I figured I had fifteen minutes more for tailing Nolan, before I’d have to break it off to make the meeting.
Nolan stayed on the Kingston Pike right into downtown where it changed over to Cumberland Ave. He then turned right on Locust St. and promptly pulled into the parking lot right next to Holston’s offices. In fact, to my surprise and shock, Holston was pulling out of the lot and he and Nolan exchanged waves as he passed. They knew each other?
I followed Holston back out of downtown basically retracing the route I had just driven following Nolan into to downtown. When Holston and I finally reached the Turkey Creek Shopping Mall, I was a dozen cars back which allowed me to slip into the parking lot unnoticed by Holston. I then waited until he had gone inside, before getting out my car and following him in.
As I crossed the parking lot, my mind was racing in several directions at once. I was trying hard to remember exactly what it was The Oracle had said about Holston. He’d called him the Devil’s minion and a spider weaving a huge web. He also said I shouldn’t trust him and I was beginning to understand why.
Once inside the House of Ale, I found Holston in the back, well away from the windows, in a booth where he could see both sets of doors. I slid into the booth and before I could even say hello, he was bitching about having to come all the way out there, just to get a two minute briefing.
“You’re late and I’m pressed for time, Carpelli. Why’d I have to drive all the way out here for this?” Holston was acting as if he was pissed off. But I sensed it was more from his not being in control, then from the actual drive. I took a play out of The Oracle’s play book and just smiled at him. Which didn’t seem to help the situation any.
“What the hell are you doing?” Holston snarled, once he realized I was smiling at him. “You look like an idiot. What did you find out?” Holston inquired and then glared at me. I figured I’d start at the top.
“The next time you want a packaged delivered, you better say so and not try to con me into thinking it’s a trip to interview a possible suspect or else the package may not get there.” I stated and glared at him to be sure the message sunk in. I knew this was the last job, I‘d do for Counselor Holston. Even if he still wanted to work together, I wasn’t going to work with him anymore. I didn’t know what game he’s playing, but I didn’t like it, it felt like someone was trying to use me.
“Yeah, yeah, you’ll live.” I heard Holston say. “What did he say about the Sherriff’s Detectives?” Holston asked as a waitress walked up and set two pilsners on the table, then quickly walked away.
“Why do I have a feeling that you already know all there is to know about Kelly and Washington or is it Smith and Jones to you?” I thought I’d put him on the defensive now, maybe keeping him a little confused by the rapid changes in subject and tone.
“What are you talking about?” He acted so innocent.
“Save the innocent act for a judge, Counselor. You know who they are. In fact, you may have sent them the other night, to back me up or maybe in an effort to muddy the water surrounding the death of your associate.” I confronted him.
“Of course, I know who they are. Hell, anyone who either deals with the criminal court system or organized crime in this city knows who they are. They are the County’s top crime fighting duel. Of course, like all public figures, they have their detractors. It’s all unsubstantiated rumors, though. There’s no proof of any wrong doing.”
“What kind of rumors?” I interjected.
“Like their connected to organized crime. Or the one where they work for a secret cabal of community leaders and have been given a free pass to clean up the crime. Or the one where they’re skip tracers for the mob. Or the one where they’re drug dealers. The latest one, that they are responsible for the death of Collins, because I’d had Collins checking on them.” Holston stopped and took a drink of his Pilsner and I did my best not jump across the table and strangle him. The whole premise of why I was working for him was a lie. Holston was actually checking on the two dirty Sherriff’s Detectives. But why?
“So why are you looking into them?” I asked.
“I thought you didn’t care about why you were being asked to do what you do to someone?” Holston replied twisting what I’d said to him to his advantage.
“What I said counselor was I don’t care, except I’m not into suicide packs and I don’t work with an audience. Why do I get the feeling someone is setting me up and there is more than just one someone watching?” I asked but Holston didn’t answer instead he moved on.
“So they aren’t working with the Feds? How about someone else? Someone from organized crime for instance?” Holston queried.
“I got the feeling they worked for someone else but on per need basis like me. I got the feeling that they were working for you. It seems according to The Oracle and the internet; they used to work for Organized Crime Boss Jason Carmel. He was the crime boss for this part of the country until he got drunk and drove off the side of a mountain. Now the person in charge is nameless, at your request and there are at least two others attempting to take control and you might be one of them.”
“Me, controlling an organized crime family? Don’t be ridiculous. I’m an attorney and it’s a whole lot safer. The life span of an organized crime boss is just slightly longer than that of house fly. I’ve got a wife and a five year old daughter. I’d like to be able to watch my daughter grow up thank you very much. I just do my job and keep my mouth shut.”
“So who are you working for?” I inquired.
“You don’t need to know.”
“Oh yes, I do. Your lack of honesty may have placed me in danger. From the message you had delivered, to their response, to the little things that don’t add up, it appears to me that you’ve drug me into a turf war without bothering to ask me, if I was willing to play along. I want no part of it. Now who do you work for?” I snarled at Holston and he just rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding about posting your life on the internet counselor including my guess as to who you work for.” I threatened.
“You haven’t a clue who I work for or what the information you’re providing is being used for.” Holston snapped back confidently.
“So my telling the world that you work for Mrs. Jason Carmel isn’t a concern for you?” Holston’s face went pale but he quickly recovered. I’m good at guessing.
“That’s a
rumor that you don’t want to spread. Because if you continue to make a nuisance of yourself, things could get very uncomfortable for you.” Holston stated while staring at me with a deeply intense glare.
“Counselor, I’ve been threatened by bigger and rougher customers than you before and I’m still here. Explain to me why you had me go to The Wild Rose to discover who had killed your investigator when you could have asked your office partner who did it?” I snarled back at him.
“What?”
“I tailed Nolan today and guess where it led me?” I waited a moment while Holston recovered from the shock. “I followed him and that incredible woman right into to your parking lot, which by the way Counselor, is another lie you’ve told me. You left out that the person the message was being sent too, was a lawyer who worked out the same office as you. Why the need for secrecy?”
“That’s a public lot anyone can park there,” Holston tried to dismiss my smoking gun.
“But they don’t wave at you or have their name on the door next to yours.” I guessed and I guessed right again based on Holston’s reaction. He stood up, threw a twenty on the table and headed towards the door. I followed and once we had stepped outside he stopped at the curb and tossed me an envelope.
“That concludes our business, Carpelli. I suggest you get out of town. Knoxville isn’t your kind of town.” He then turned to look as an extremely loud motorcycle came roaring up the parking lots main aisle towards us. The motorcyclist had to be traveling at least sixty miles an hour in a fifteen mile per hour area and a split-second after we first heard the roar, the motorcycle was flashing by us. I never heard the gun fire; the bike was just too loud. What I saw though, was the gunmen point the gun and Holston fall.
I wouldn’t have thought it possible, for someone to be riding that fast and fire accurately, but the guy did it and in the next split second tossed the gun at me. It hit me in the chest and I instinctively grabbed for it. As I stood there clutching it to my chest, I instantly regretted having caught it. My prints were now all over it. Shit!
I knelt down and looked at Holston, it was clear he was already dead. There was a large blood pool forming under and around him already. His eyes were fixed and staring into to space, their last sight having been this loud motorcycle bearing down him and then the shocking realization that the rider had a gun. I sort of remember Holston turning slightly as he ineptly tried to dodge the bullet.
Suddenly there were people everywhere and I knew I needed to get out of there. As I stood up and started to walk away, I heard a waitress say, “I heard them arguing at their table.” I quickly moved away from the crowd, keeping the gun clutched tightly to my chest as I walked away. As soon as I cleared the crowd I really picked up the pace getting back to my car. I didn’t waste a second getting out of there.
I quickly headed east on Kingston Pike towards downtown. As I drove east, several Sherriff’s Department cars raced passed going west towards Turkey Creek. I didn’t make eye contact and kept to the right lane, so a lane of traffic was between me and the patrol cars racing by.
I’d been in this type of situation before and I knew what to do, except I wasn’t at home anymore. I couldn’t go to Jackson and ask for his help. I didn’t even know anyone in town, so I was at a momentary loss as to what I could do right away. While sitting at a traffic light, it occurred to me that I needed to exchange my license plate, A.S.A.P. That would slow the traffic patrols from picking out my car once I decided to stop. It would only buy me a few hours in all likelihood and I would have to switch plates again in few hours at most. I’d be switching plates most likely every few hours for the next week or so or until I solved the puzzle of who killed Holston. Based on the fact that the killer was riding a large Harley and wearing biker’s leathers, I was betting on the Diablo’s for the killing. Glancing at the gun lying on the passenger seat, I realized before I could confront them again, I had to get myself some sort of evidence that I didn’t do it, so I went to the only place I’d really interacted with anyone, the Morgue.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I wandered around for a bit trying to find the official sign in desk for the morgue before it hit me that it would be stupid to announce I was here. Damn, am I rusty, a year off will do that to you. I have no official status that would require anyone here to talk with me, let alone grant me permission to enter and seek out Doctor Anne, who I spoke with the other day. I went back to the Autopsy Theater where I had found Doctor Anne the other evening and was thankful to find her busy working on yet another cadaver when I walked in.
I pulled the door open and stepped inside, checking to be sure no one saw me, as I did so. Doctor Anne had her back to the door and she surprised me when she called out.
“Kevin, what is it now? Can’t you see I’m busy?” Apparently Kevin was a bit of a thorn in her side.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude but at least I’m not Kevin.” I responded, as I stepped further into the room.
“Detective, how nice to hear your voice. To what do I owe the pleasure?” She asked. I was a little surprised that she recognized my voice after just one meeting.
“I’m afraid I need a favor,” I stated. She didn’t say anything but finished with what she was doing just then, pulled a drape over the body and turned towards me as she removed her latex gloves, her face a mask of seriousness.
“You do realize, I haven’t given physical exams for close to twenty years.” She stated without a hint of mirth and stood looking at me for a moment before a smirk crossed her face. She then stepped over to the sink and washed her hands. “But I suppose,” she stated as she washed her hands, “it’s like riding a bike, so go ahead drop your pants and prepare to cough.”
“Doctor, you have no idea how that would really make my day, but the favor I need, is more a forensic issue than an examination one.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. I was looking forward to an exploratory oral exam.” She stated with a straight face punctuated with a huge grin. I called her bluff.
“Well, when you put it that way.” I started to unzip my pants and she interjected.
“As usual I haven’t the time, but I do have the inclination. In fact, my next day off is this coming Friday. If you’re still interested, I will gladly meet up with you at any hotel on the interstate and see if my schooling is still viable, so many years later.”
I retorted, “I am certified in refresher anatomy and sexual tech, so I’m sure we can work our way through any rough patches. I’ve always found a few properly placed kisses followed by a few properly placed licks always straighten out the issues in short order.”
“You sir, are a silver tongued devil and I meant what I said about Friday. Now what seems to be the problem?” she inquired as she glanced at the clock.
“Well, first and foremost, I have to apologize.”
“Oh, for what?”
“I haven’t been completely truthful with you.”
“You’re married?” She stated sounding disheartened.
“No, I’m not married and I’m not a cop, either, though I used to be.”
“Then what are you doing here?” her eyes fixed on me as though I was a disease of some sort. “You don’t have a fetish about dead people do you? I read about that. In fact, my predecessor was fired over his extracurricular activities involving one of our cadavers and several ladies of the night.”
“Oh no, it’s nothing like that.” I assured her.
“Then why are you here? Oh say, I don’t even know your name.” She stated, as if I had better tell her or that would be the deal breaker.
“It’s John, but let’s not use my last name, because it could possibly cause you trouble. It seems there are possibly two or three different groups looking for me. A biker gang because I visited their clubhouse and had to taser my way out. Two Sherriff’s Detectives because I interrupted them while they were shaking down the biker gang...” Doctor Anne interrupted me and stated.
“That would be Smith and Jones. Th
ey are infamous around these parts.”
“Yeah, I understand they are real trouble and extremely dangerous,” I replied.
“Yes, they have wormed their way into just about every corner of Knoxville. Anything to do with bikers, street gangs and drug dealers, those two will be involved. They’re the Sherriff’s gang squad’s lead investigators.”
“I’ve met them, but haven’t had the opportunity to go beyond saying, hello and goodbye.”
“You don’t want to know them any better, trust me.” Doctor Anne sounded as she might have something more to say, but didn’t say it. Instead she brought us back on subject.
“If you’re not a police officer and not a necrophile, then who or what, are you and why should I help you?”
“I’m John, like I said and I find things for people.”
“You’re a private investigator?” she made it sound dirty.
“Sort of. I’m not licensed so I can’t legally say I’m a private eye. What I do is on a very discrete level and not so subtle at times. I find people, things or answers to dangerous questions. Things that for some reason no one wants them to be found or they’ve been lost or stolen. Sometimes after I find them, I’m supposed to lose them.”
Doctor Anne sat there for a moment and then looked at me with a straight face and asked, “Are you a hired killer?”
“Oh no, I do not hire out to kill people, though once I have found them, they may be targeted by the people I’ve found them for. If they are innocent people, I pretend I never found them.”
Silver Lining - A Carpelli Adventure: Sequel To The Bestselling Thriller Fatal Mistake Page 7