Wood's Wall

by Steven Becker

  “Jeff, Sheriff Whitman here. You ok?”

  “Yeah, just nervous. That guy hasn’t called yet. I’m getting scared.”

  “Where are you? We need to talk.”

  “Why, what’s happened?”

  “It can wait. Tell me where you are.”

  “At the hospital.”

  ***

  He was sitting erect in his chair, alone in the fourth floor lobby. She went up to the window that looked into the hospital room and stared at Trufante, still unconscious with what she took for a smile on his face. She’d wipe that off as soon as he came to. The asshole should have come to her immediately, rather than waiting. He might have saved some lives if he had. Shaking her head, she went to Jeff and placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry, Jeff, there’s no easy way to do this. We found your wife’s body an hour ago.”

  He stared into space, shocked. Then he exploded with rage. “How could you let that happen? I thought you were on top of this!”

  “I’m truly sorry, but it looks like she was killed before we got involved. Probably the night you went to Tampa. There’s another body with her — a woman. I know this is hard, but I need you to identify them.”

  She waited patiently while he got over the initial response and composed himself.

  “I need some time alone. Just write down where I need to go. I’ll be there.”

  “It’s no problem to take you.” She couldn’t remand him, but didn’t want to let him out of her sight.

  He was silent for a long minute. “No, I’ve had enough police for the day. I’ll take a cab. Just want to be alone for a few minutes.”

  “Ok, but we need you for this.”

  “Right.”

  ***

  Jeff waited until the elevator doors closed behind her. Then he pulled out his phone and dialed.

  “Pete here. What’s up?”

  “The bastard killed them. The drug guy.”

  “Who are you talking about?”

  “The guy that came to the house the other night. Killed Dan on the spot. Told me I had twenty-four hours to get some cash, and took the women. Then he killed them…”

  “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. Where are you?”

  “Hospital. It’s a long story.”

  “Meet me outside. I’ll be there in five. I think we’d better talk.”

  28

  Mel tentatively pulled up to the dock. Crime tape circled around the house and there were several people visible inside the rollup door. She thought about turning around and getting out of there after seeing the house converted to a crime scene. In the end, her sense of duty got the best of her. She tied the bow off and jumped onto the dock, then approached the first deputy she saw.

  “Who’s in charge here?” she asked.

  “And you are?” He looked her up and down, and she realized that she hadn’t seen herself in a mirror in a day. Grease, dirt, and sweat covered her skin and she probably had tear marks down her face.

  “Melanie Woodson. I’m staying here.” She had just started to feel comfortable here and now crime scene tape denied access to the house.

  “I’m the lead officer here. Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I haven’t been here in a couple of days. Is Mac alright? Is he here?”

  “He’s missing. So, you are telling me you know nothing about this?”

  “No, I got drunk the other night and we got in a fight.” She abbreviated the truth.

  “When was that?”

  “Six or so, the night before last.”

  “And you just took off?”

  Not wanting to be caught in an outright lie, she dodged the question. “What’s going on here? I need to charge my phone. Can I get my charger, at least?”

  “As long as it’s upstairs. Everything down here is a crime scene.”

  She headed up the outside stairs. “I’ll need a statement.” he called after her, staring up at her from the bottom step.

  “No problem, just give me a few minutes.” She entered the sliding glass door leading to the bedroom, thankful the crime scene had not extended here. She sat on the edge of the bed, head in hands. The grime and grit were like sandpaper, her hair oily.

  The dirt swirled down the drain, as she wished the past few days would disappear with it. She stood under the stream of hot water from the shower deep in thought. Where was Mac? Jules was a childhood friend and she trusted her. Maybe the best thing was to find her and lay out everything that had happened. Her brain went into lawyer mode, trying to decide if Mac had done anything illegal, or just been an idiot. She smiled, remembering her dad’s line - “rule #1 - boys are idiots.” The worst she could think of was obstructing justice. She was confident Jules would drop whatever charges might be pending in exchange for any information she had. Galvanized by her decision, she turned the water to cold. The hot water had been lulling her to sleep.

  She stepped out of the shower and had just changed when she heard a knock on the door.

  “Mel? You in there?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be right out.”

  Mel left the room and met Jules in the hall. She moved forward and hugged her old friend. “Mel, you know what happened here?” There was a built-in level of intimacy between the two women, who had a long history together, growing up here.

  “I hate to admit it, but I was drunk that night. I passed out, and the next thing I know Mac had us on the boat. I’m really sorry.”

  “No worries, girl. Where is he?”

  “Wish I knew. We got in a fight. I just got back from dad’s place.” She paused. “Listen, Mac told me some stuff. I know he could be in some trouble here - not for what’s downstairs. Maybe withholding information or something. I’ll tell you what little I know if you promise not to charge him.

  “Mac Travis, withholding information - like that’s a new one. Sure, if that’s all it is go ahead. But, if he’s involved any other way I’m going to have to go after him.” Jules said.

  Mel relayed the conversation she’d had with Mac, trying to remember everything she could. “That’s it. We went out to dad’s yesterday and got in a fight. That’s the last I saw him.”

  “Your dad. I haven’t seen you since then. Really sorry about him. You know how much I liked him.”

  “Thanks. Anything else I can do for you? I’ve got a pile of messages, and I want to find Mac.”

  “No, you know the old line though: Don’t leave town.”

  They hugged again as Jules left, leaving Mel alone with her phone.

  When she dialed, Mac’s number went straight to voicemail. She was getting worried. She went to the front window and saw his truck parked out front. More anxious now, she followed Jules down the stairs. “His truck and boat are both here, cell phone’s going to voicemail. I’m worried something’s happened to him.”

  “I put out a BOLO on him when we saw what happened here. Nothing yet.” Jules said.

  “I’m really worried. Whatever you find out, please let me know.” She glanced around, jaw dropping, as she saw the scene for the first time. The crime scene seemed more vivid with the police tape, lights and numbered signs. “Please, find him.”

  A woman, bent over examining something, called Jules over. “There’s something here that I couldn’t place. There’s blood here,” she said, shining her light down and tracing a path from the front door to the office. “Look at the direction of the spots. Someone came in bleeding.”

  Mel and Jules stood side by side following the light. “Maybe Trufante.” Jules said.

  “That’s what I was thinking. So, we have the blood trail, but look.” She shined her light on what looked like mud, and looked up again. “I couldn’t figure it out, but the smell got me.” She bent down and scratched at the stain, picking up a piece and rubbing it back and forth between her latex-clad fingers. “It’s fresh, too, look at the oil. It’s chum. Don’t know what it has to do with this, but I’d be looking for a bait grinder. Maybe Monster — they�
��re the biggest bait outfit here.”

  29

  Jeff stood on the sidewalk in front of the hospital, his face tired and drawn. He didn’t know what to think or how he should be reacting, but he felt angry.

  Pete pulled up and stopped. Jeff got in but did not acknowledge him.

  “Hey bud, you all right?” Pete asked.

  “You son of a bitch!” Jeff screamed. “My wife is gone because of you. Some great idea - get a Mexican drug dealer involved. Dammit.” He moved towards Pete.

  Pete shrunk back, “I know how you’re feeling, but this isn’t my fault. Dan was the one who insisted on keeping the stuff. You were right along with him. I wanted to dump it.”

  “Whatever.” He slammed the dashboard with his fists. “I’m so freakin’ mad. I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I want revenge. How do we find this son of a bitch?”

  “Key West. I followed him. I know where he lives, but there’s something else.”

  “What’s that?” Jeff asked.

  “There was a package inside the bundle that was different.”

  Jeff stared off into space. “So?”

  “The guy, he took one package and met this Middle Eastern-looking guy in a park. He handed him the package and took off. I didn’t know what else to do so I followed that guy, too.”

  “This has nothing to do with me. I just want the Mexican.”

  “Maybe we should just tell the authorities what I saw and get out of here before something bad happens.”

  “Like something worse is going to happen. My wife’s dead. How do you think that feels.” He slammed the dashboard again. “You want to walk away from this with nothing to show for it? I don’t. Screw the authorities. Even if they catch the guy, he’ll probably walk.”

  “You’re in some kind of shock. Think about it. We don’t have the skill set to go after these guys. We don’t even have a gun.” Pete was scared by his friend’s anger.

  “I’ve got this in perspective.”

  “You’ve got revenge in your sights. I get that. We need to take what we have and go to the police.” Pete pleaded.

  “Ok, so maybe it’s not all revenge.” The adrenaline that had fired his earlier reaction seemed to be wearing off. “It’s the same as why you followed the guy. I just have to see this through. We get some more information we can turn it over to the authorities. I promise. I need to do this.”

  “If I’ve got your word — no more drugs.”

  “Yeah.”

  They looked at each other, each evaluating the other’s sincerity.

  “What now?” Pete finally asked.

  “That guy that was going to make the trade for us. He’s in the hospital here.” Jeff said. “He owes us.”

  ***

  Jules turned the lights off as she entered the driveway to Monster Bait, the wheels louder than she liked as they ran through the crushed coral of the driveway. Twilight had just faded into full on night, the moon not yet visible. At least they would have some cover when they went in.

  She parked behind a stack of crab traps and turned to Mel, “I got a vest that’ll fit you, but you gotta stay back. I’d have you stay here, but I think it’s safer to have you with me.”

  Mel took the vest, put it over her head and strapped the velcro closures. “I’ll stay back, don’t worry about that.”

  “Keys are under the mat if something happens.” Jules pulled out her gun and started moving toward the only sign of life — a light shining through a window fifty yards away.

  They moved closer using the shadows cast by the trap piles, carefully avoiding the buoys and line scattered on the road. When they were within a few feet, they stopped behind a stack of traps. Shadows were visible in the shack now. They couldn’t tell how many, but it was more than one. Muffled voices whispered through the night. Jules pointed to Mel, motioning for her to wait, and moved toward the building. She could make out three figures now, but their voices were disguised by the sound of a machine. She stayed low, below the window, listening.

  ***

  “Gringo,” Cesar said, “I do not believe you. You’re going to need to convince me, or I’ll let my friend here make chum out of you.”

  Mac watched him as he glanced over at the man in the apron. “What’s it going to take? I have no idea where they came from.” He was getting desperate.

  “Enough of this.” Cesar nodded to the large man. “He’s yours.”

  The man came toward Mac, grabbed his hand, and quickly locked out the wrist, putting enough pressure on the joint that Mac followed obediently. Mac could smell the fishy smell of the man’s breath as they moved closer to the grinder. His hand and maybe more would be gone if he didn’t act now. Feigning faint he pushed forward using a classic Aikido move to throw the other man off balance. As he tried to compensate he released the pressure on his wrist. Seeing the opening he executed a sweep kick, landing the man on the ground, but Cesar moved toward him, gun extended.

  They were all startled as the door crashed open losing one of its hinges. All three men watched as Jules pulled back from her mule kick and spun into a shooting stance. “Police! Freeze!”

  Cesar swung his gun from Mac to the door. Before he could shoot, Jules fired wide as a warning before refocusing on his head. He was about to drop the gun when Jules hit the floor.

  “You owe me one.” Ibrahim dropped to a knee. He took the gun from Jules and handcuffed her with her own cuffs. Then he removed her belt, with the radio, cell phone and pepper spray. “Maybe now we can take care of what I need.”

  “We have leverage now.” Cesar rose. “We keep the woman. Let him go. Mr Macho here will lead us right to it.”

  “Bad idea. I no longer trust you. What are you thinking, we can’t just let him walk away?”

  “I’m thinking. That’s what separates us.” Cesar said. “Jose, follow him. Stay back and keep me updated on what he does. He knows we have her.” A finger pointed at the sheriff. “He’ll do the right thing. Here,” he reached in his pocket and took out several phones and tossed Mac his phone, “Stay in touch.”

  Mac looked at Jules as she started to move on the floor. He glanced at the bait grinder knowing that she had saved him from it’s whirling teeth. He nodded at her as she tried to focus on him, hoping she saw the determination in his eyes.

  30

  Trufante was sitting up in bed a tray on the table in front of him. He was toying with the jello, giggling as it jiggled when the two men entered the room. He looked up, “Howdy, boys.”

  “Glad to see you’re feeling better.” Pete said sarcastically.

  “Leave it to the doctors to get my meds dialed in for me. I’m feelin’ fine.” His fascination with the jello continued.

  “Good, because we need your help,” Jeff said. They had agreed that, if Trufante wouldn’t cooperate, Jeff would play the bad guy.

  “I ain’t in no condition to help anyone right now.” He wiggled his legs. “See that? I can’t even feel them. You know that Pink Floyd song, I Have Become Comfortably Numb? Well that’s what I feel like.” He started humming the tune.

  Pete turned to Jeff. “He’s worthless.”

  “Yeah, I guess we need to do this ourselves.”

  Trufante overheard them. He may have been drugged up but he understood what they implied. “Alan TRUfante ain’t worthless to no one. You tell me what you want done. I can operate in any condition. Just watch.”

  His feet hit the floor and he tried to stand, then swayed for a minute before gaining his equilibrium. He took a step but was restrained by the IV in his arm. “This part I may regret.” He pulled the IV out and placed his bandaged finger over the exit hole to stem the bleeding. “We’re off.”

  “Your off to see the wizard is where you’re off to.” Jeff looked at Pete. “He’s no use to us.” He started to leave.

  “Y’all got no faith in my Cajun disposition. You just help me out of here. The drugs’ll wear off sooner than later. Unfortunately.”

  “He’s ri
ght.” Pete said. “We get him out of here and sit on him a couple of hours, he’ll sober up.”

  “What the hell. He does know all the players. Any trouble we can ditch him.” Jeff grabbed onto one of his arms and started walking him to the door. “Grab his clothes.”

  ***

  “He ought to be sober enough.” Pete said. They sat in Trufante’s apartment. Both men anxious.

  They’d reached a decision while Trufante had nodded out that they would offer the drugs as bait, hoping that would entice him to cooperate.

  Trufante had finally stopped humming Comfortably Numb, as he no longer felt the love an hour later. “All right. Let’s get it on. This is as sober as I’m planning on gettin’,” he mumbled.

  “Ok, here’s the deal. You help us recover the drugs and the box, and we’ll cut you in for a third.” Pete said. He was playing the good cop. If Trufante didn’t cooperate, Jeff was ready to jump in with the bad cop routine.

  “I could use some of that about now. A little bump would sure taste good.” He licked his lips. “Yeah, that’s all good.” But about that box, no dice there.”

  “All or nothing.”

  “You boys know what’s in that box?”

  They shook their heads.

  “Plutonium. Weapons-grade stuff.”

  “All the more reason to go after it.” Pete said. “I saw the exchange, and I bet that guy’s a terrorist. They could be building a bomb right now. Be a patriot.”

  “I want to remain a live patriot. Those are some seriously mean dudes you’re messing with.”

  Jeff needed to get this moving. “All right, forget about the box. We just go for the drugs, then.”

  “Y’all got a plan?”

  “We know where he lives. You’re gonna walk right in an distract him. We’ll sneak around back and take him from behind. Then we find the drugs and get out of there. Call the police to go get him and we’ll be back here an hour later. ”

  “It’s never that easy. Take it from me. I’ve stepped in enough crap in my life.”