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Blue Steele Box Sets 2

Page 17

by Remington Kane


  Chapter 37

  “Hey White, I hurt your girl good, didn’t I? When I smashed her head in I was trying to kill her, you know?”

  I was standing next to White when Blackwood started taunting him. I could see White’s eyes grow cold.

  “Don’t listen to him,” I said. “He’s only trying to goad you into blasting him with that shotgun. The last thing he wants to do is to spend the rest of his life in prison.”

  “The guy over there, I recognize him,” Blackwood said. “That’s Jake Caliber. He’s a badass, but why did you bring the women along? Were they bait for me and my men? You should have brought those daughters of yours instead. I still want a taste of them, and if I ever get close enough I’ll tear them apart.”

  White said nothing, but even in the sparse light I could see that his face had reddened.

  When Blackwood next opened his mouth, he spewed pure vile and described in graphic detail the things he wanted to do to White’s daughter, Viola. I’d learned that Blackwood had once had the girl in his grip and had hurt her badly in White’s presence. To taunt White the way he was, Blackwood was asking for death.

  White’s grip on the shotgun grew tighter, but then he surprised me by handing it to me.

  “Good idea,” I said. “Let me hold it, that way you won’t be tempted to kill him and he can rot his life away in a cell.”

  White said, “No Blue, he dies now,” and then he ran toward Blackwood.

  As White rushed toward him, Blackwood laughed, while Jessica let out a shriek of “No!”

  The two men came together as each reached out and their hands locked together just above shoulder height. White was tall, very tall, but Blackwood towered above him and outweighed him by over a hundred pounds.

  Still, as the two men struggled against each other, I realized that they were more evenly matched then it would appear. Not only was White holding his own, but he was stronger than Blackwood, as well as enraged. That immense strength and righteous rage enabled him to stand toe to toe with the huge man and wear him down.

  Jake, Jessica and I watched as realization crept across Blackwood’s face, a face turned scarlet from the effort he was exerting. Along with fear, amazement crept into Blackwood’s eyes. He had never before met a man who could best him physically.

  After one of Blackwood’s knees buckled he tried to twist away and managed to free one hand. It soon became apparent that White had released the hand on purpose, so that he was now behind Blackwood.

  After driving a foot into the back of Blackwood’s other knee, Blackwood fell atop the ground. With Blackwood on his knees, White repositioned his grip, by placing both arms about Blackwood’s head. He then attempted to give the huge man’s neck a vicious twist, but Blackwood was too strong for such a maneuver.

  And yet, as Blackwood gripped both of White’s wrists, intending to break White’s grasp, I saw that White was steadily wrenching Blackwood’s head to the left. White also kept the man from rising by planting a foot on the back of one leg.

  They struggled together until they both fell to the side and, moments later, a groan escaped Blackwood’s lips, as one hand twitched in a vicious spasm. When White released Blackwood and stood, it became obvious that Blackwood’s head was sitting at an unnatural angle. White had done serious damage to the man. He had broken his neck.

  Spittle flew from Blackwood’s mouth as he attempted to speak.

  “Can’t move… I… can’t move.”

  Those words were followed by a gasp as only Blackwood’s right hand showed signs of movement, the gasping grew more intense and it was plain to see that he was struggling to breathe.

  Jessica hugged her husband as the four of us watched Blackwood’s face turn a deep shade of red. Despite being a doctor, Jessica made no move to help Blackwood. Any disdain I might have felt at her inaction was cut short when I remembered the photos I’d seen of Blackwood’s victims. I had zero sympathy for the man and I stood there and watched him die.

  The unconscious woman awoke while on her way to the hospital after an ambulance had taken her away.

  As usual, Lawson’s clout had cleared the way for me and the others to leave the scene under the guise of secrecy and in the name of Homeland Security. The local cops who arrived on the scene soon became aware of who and what Blackwood, Alejandro, and Mitchell had been. The bodies were carted away by a team of federal agents.

  We all decided to stay the night at a local hotel and rose early the next day. After having breakfast together, the four of us were at the airport and heading off in different directions. I was stopping home for the day before heading back to New Jersey, while the others headed for their homes. As we were saying our goodbyes, Jake made an observation.

  “Lawson wanted Blackwood and the others dead, and dead they are. Does that make us a hit team?”

  White stared at him for a moment before answering.

  “We simply gave them what they deserved.”

  I nodded in agreement and then grew angry as I thought of something.

  “The woman who started all this, Prophet, she made a deal with Lawson that will see her spend the rest of her days in a country club prison.”

  To my surprise, Jessica smiled.

  “Thomas did make that deal with her, yes, and he’ll keep his end of the bargain. But if I know Thomas, Prophet won’t escape justice.”

  “What do you mean by that?” I asked.

  “Just this, Thomas knows the best assassin on the planet, Tanner. He may have promised Prophet that she would be placed in a country club prison, but I would bet he never promised her that she would grow old there.”

  I gasped in surprise as my first reaction told me that Thomas would be condoning murder. That reaction faded as I recalled all the havoc Prophet was responsible for. Over a hundred lives were lost because of her insane greed. I knew the world would be better off without her.

  “Justice,” I said.

  The three of them nodded solemnly as they all repeated the word back to me.

  A short while later I put Prophet and Blackwood out of my mind and turned my thoughts toward the case I’d left in New Jersey.

  Donna Weaver, missing for nearly forty years, and leaving behind a brokenhearted daughter who only wanted answers.

  I would do my best to get those answers for her, but first, a quick trip home to see my darlin’ hubby was in order. I laid a gentle hand atop my stomach as I thought about our child, and I marveled at the fact that I was soon to be a mother.

  Chapter 38

  The next morning, I was sitting on the floor beside the bed and crying when Ramón entered our bedroom. Scattered around me were every pair of jeans I owned.

  Ramón rushed to me and helped me up. After cupping my face in his hands, he asked me what was wrong.

  “Nothing’s wrong. These are tears of happiness.”

  “I don’t understand,” he said.

  I gestured at the pants scattered at our feet.

  “Nothing fits, not even my fat jeans, and look at me, there’s a bulge showing.”

  I was wearing a blouse, and as I lifted it up, Ramón grinned at the bulge showing on my tummy.

  “I told you our baby wouldn’t be flat,” he said, as he leaned over to kiss my stomach.

  After a trip to the store to buy new jeans, bigger jeans, I boarded a flight back to New Jersey. A lot had happened since I’d been gone and it all seemed like good news.

  A reporter had learned of Shannon Weaver’s quest to find her missing mother. The story had appeared in the paper along with a picture of Shannon’s mom, Donna Weaver. The story had led to a number of tips being reported and Det. Carol Olson invited me to come along and check out the ones that sounded promising.

  I was seated next to Carol in her unmarked police car and sensed that something was bothering her. When I asked about it, she opened up and told me that she had reconnected via telephone with her estranged mother just hours earlier.

  “That’s good news… isn’t it?�
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  “Yes, but the only reason she called was to tell me that she may be dying. She’s been diagnosed with cancer.”

  I reached over and gave Carol’s free hand a squeeze.

  “I’m so sorry, but is there a chance that she could beat it?”

  “Oh, yes, Mother says that there’s an excellent chance, but I still worry.”

  “Of course you do, but once she recovers you two will still have reconnected again.”

  “Maybe, but… here’s the thing. My mother never wanted me. I think she only had me to please my father, and I’m sure she only married him because he was well off financially. My father adored me, but once he passed away, Mother told me that she saw no reason for us to stay in contact.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, she’s always been a cold woman. I think her illness may have shaken her and now she realizes that she needs someone.”

  “Are you going to be there for her, you know, if things take a turn for the worst?”

  Carol looked at me and I could see that her eyes had grown moist.

  “Of course I’ll be there for her, she’s my mother and I love her.”

  We drove in silence for a few moments and then I asked a question.

  “Have you ever thought of having children, Carol? You seemed to adore being with Holly the other day.”

  Carol lit up in a smile. “Holly is a sweetheart and we clicked right away, but I’m a divorced woman nearing forty. I think my chances at motherhood have flown. Besides, with the mother I had, I always feared that I would be a horrible parent too.”

  “I doubt that, and we never know what life has in store for us.”

  We spent several days eliminating most of the tips that came in while at the police station. However, four leads from people in the area were promising enough to follow up on and investigate in person.

  Three of the four tips fizzled out, but as we drove to our final appointment, something about the contact’s name seemed familiar. When I mentioned it to Carol, she enlightened me.

  “William Barr is a retired photojournalist. He’s the man who took most of the photos we have of Frankie Frugazy. It seems he had a vendetta against the man. The reporter that Frugazy allegedly killed was Mr. Barr’s friend. Barr hounded Frugazy night and day while trying to catch him involved in something shady.”

  “This sounds like a real lead. Was Mr. Barr following Frugazy and his gang on the day they died?”

  “No, he was in the hospital at the time recovering from a hit and run accident. Mr. Barr swears that Frugazy paid someone to run him down, but he was unable to prove it before Frugazy died.”

  “Still, he may know something that could be of help.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping, Blue.”

  William Barr told us to call him Billy as we were invited into his small home. He was an old man with an infectious grin and bright bluish-green eyes. Just before we entered the house, Billy’s name was called by a neighbor who was getting into her car. She was an older woman with curly white hair who still had a shapely figure.

  She gave Billy a predatory smile and walked over to talk. Her name was Pam Woolrich; she was a retired nurse who was also a widow. Pam had recently inherited the home across the street after her mother passed away, and she was volunteering several days a week at a local clinic.

  Pam’s crush on the handsome Billy was evident, and although Billy responded to her with courtesy, I could see that he was uncomfortable by her attention.

  “I’ll be making pot roast tomorrow, Billy. I’ll bring some by for you. It’s too much for me to eat alone.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Pam, but you really shouldn’t go to any bother,” Billy said.

  Pam sent Billy a bright smile. “It’s no bother; I miss cooking for a man.”

  Billy told Pam that he would see her tomorrow and then the three of us said goodbye to her. After we’d entered the house, Billy closed the door and leaned back against it.

  “That woman is looking for a second husband and she never takes no for an answer.”

  “She seems very nice,” I said.

  “She is, and one hell of a cook too, but I’m a lifelong bachelor and plan to stay one.”

  Billy walked with a limp and said he had been doing so since recovering from the hit and run accident he survived decades earlier. He seemed eager to be of help and said that he remembered Donna Weaver, although he had only seen her a few times.

  Billy gestured about his living room. It was cluttered with stacks of cardboard boxes.

  “These contain old photos and at least some of them are of Frankie Frugazy and his gang. I had taken photos of Frankie with many different women. Your missing mom was one of them.”

  “A new photo of her would be nice, but how well did you know her?” Carol asked.

  Billy shrugged. “Not well at all. I pulled her aside once to tell her what a dirt bag Frankie Frugazy was, but she wouldn’t hear any of it. The girl was in love and it blinded her.”

  “Did she ever mention a location outside the state, somewhere she might have run to?” Carol asked.

  “No, nothing like that. As I said, I barely knew her, but see, Frankie’s brother, Tommy, he had a girl that was a real looker, a redhead. I bet she would know something. I can’t seem to remember her name to save my life, but if I find a photo of her I’ll have her name written on the back.”

  “What makes you think that this woman would know something?”

  Billy looked confused as he furrowed his brow.

  “She was with Frankie and Tommy right before the shootout went down. I’m thinking that your missing mom and her both ran off together and then something went wrong somehow.”

  Carol and I both leaned forward as Carol held up a hand.

  “Wait a minute. Are you saying that a second woman might have been on the scene when the shooting occurred?”

  “Yes, I was in the hospital back then, and later, I went through months of therapy. But see, there was a bar owner I knew named Henley who used to tell me whenever Frankie and his boys showed up at his tavern. Henley came to see me a few days after my accident. He said that Frankie and his crew had stopped into his bar right before they left for their ill-fated drug deal.”

  “And he told you that there were two women with Frugazy?” I asked.

  “Yeah, your missing mom and Tommy’s redhead. They had to of both been there when the trouble went down.”

  “Why didn’t you report this to the cops at the time?” Carol asked.

  “Henley said that he would tell the cops, and remember, I was still in bad shape back then and full of painkillers. As far as I knew, Henley had reported it to the detectives handling the case. He must have forgotten to, or just blew it off. Henley wasn’t a fan of cops.”

  Carol had her notebook out as we were talking. When she asked Billy for the name of Henley’s bar, he just smiled at her.

  “Sorry Detective, but Henley’s bar closed over twenty years ago and Thad Henley has been dead nearly as long. It has been a long time since all this went down you know?”

  Carol sighed in frustration, but then her gaze fell on the cartons full of photos.

  “Can we help you look for the photos, Billy?”

  Billy Barr grinned his infectious smile and I found myself grinning along with him.

  “Detective Olson, I thought that you would never ask.”

  Chapter 39

  After we’d finished searching through the cartons, we came up empty in our search. We hadn’t found a photo of either Donna Weaver or the mysterious redheaded girlfriend of Tommy Frugazy.

  Billy Barr was perplexed by the development and said that there were hundreds of photos missing. He was also sure that the absent photos were ones he would have taken around the time period that the deadly shootout occurred.

  “Could someone have taken them?” I asked.

  “I don’t see how. I’ve always lived alone and I’ve been in this house for over forty years.”r />
  “You’ve never lived anywhere else during that time or maybe stored files elsewhere?” Carol asked.

  Billy was in the middle of shaking his head when he froze and snapped his fingers.

  “Katie! My sister Katie, she and her husband insisted that I come and stay with them back then while I recuperated from my injuries. She lives in Pennsylvania. I bet that’s where those files are.”

  “Will she still have them?” I said.

  Billy searched for his cell phone and found it stuffed between the couch cushions.

  “There’s one way to find out; I’ll give my sis a call.”

  A short phone call later and we were relived to find that Billy’s sister still had his photos.

  “She said that there are four cartons sitting in a corner of her basement. I’ll drive out there tomorrow and get them.”

  “Where does she live?” Carol asked.

  “About two hours away, and I’ve been meaning to make the trip anyway. I’ll drive out tonight and spend the day with them tomorrow. I’ve a grand-nephew I haven’t seen yet, and he’s named Billy too.”

  Carol stood and stretched a kink out of her back. We had both been sitting on the floor as we went through the hundreds of old photos and it had caused a bit of stiffness.

  “I really appreciate the help, Billy, and please call me as soon as you find anything.”

  “Certainly, and tell your friend that I remember her mother. I always thought she was too good for a thug like Frugazy.”

  We had dinner with Shannon Reed and her daughter Holly at a family restaurant, and Holly surprised me with me a gift. It was a drawing that she had done from memory. It was an excellent likeness of me.

  “You’re very talented, Holly. I hope that you’re planning on becoming an artist.”

 

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