Point Blank

Home > Fiction > Point Blank > Page 13
Point Blank Page 13

by Mike Ryan


  “Yeah, it’s all fun and games for you. I’m the one getting caught up in the middle here.”

  “Listen, Tyrell, I know you do business with both of us and you don’t wanna sell either of us out. I’m not asking you to compromise yourself.”

  “Then what do you want me to do?”

  “Give me something I can use. If he double crossed me, what makes you think he won’t do the same to you sometime? You’re not part of his crew either.”

  “I live out here, man. I deal with these guys every day, you don’t,” Tyrell said.

  “I know. But I’ll make it worth it for you if you give me something though. And I give you my word nothing will ever come back to you.”

  “You know sometimes I wish I never met you.”

  Recker laughed, thinking it wasn’t the first time he’d heard that. “Congratulations. You just joined my fan club.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Where can I find him? Where does he go? The only place I know is the house in Upper Darby where he meets me.”

  “Yeah, he won’t show up there again for a while probably. He’s got places like that all over the city. Probably a dozen or so. He doesn’t like to conduct business in the same place all the time in case someone plans to surprise him, know what I mean? Yeah. I can give you a few addresses but it probably won’t do you any good.”

  “Gotta start somewhere.”

  “All right, I’ll text you the places and you can do whatever you wanna do.”

  “Sounds good,” Recker said.

  “But listen, you better get him, you understand? Cause if you don’t, and he kills you, and he finds out I was helping you, I’m probably gonna be joining you in whatever plot you wind up in.”

  “What? You wouldn’t enjoy spending the rest of eternity together?”

  “Hell no.”

  “Any other spots besides these meeting houses?”

  “Uhh, yeah, there’s some nightclubs he likes to frequent sometimes,” Tyrell said. “Good luck if you wanna take him out in one of those though.”

  “Why? What’s so special about it?”

  “Well when he goes to those places he’s got ten, sometimes twenty guys with him. Man, you’ll never get near him. Especially if you’re public enemy number one. As soon as you show up you’ll get bullets flying from every direction at you.”

  “You let me worry about that.”

  “I didn’t say I was worried. I’m just telling you. Plus, those places are packed. You kill him in there and you’ll be wanted all over town.”

  “Wanted by who? The police? They already want me. Nothing would change.”

  “I guess. If you take out Jeremiah, it’s gonna leave a clear path for Vincent you know,” Tyrell mentioned.

  “I know.”

  “He’s gonna have all the power.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “Would that bother you?” Recker asked. “You work for him sometimes.”

  “I dunno, I guess it’d be OK. I’d just have to pick up more work from him to compensate for Jeremiah.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Like I said, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

  As soon as Recker hung up, he put the phone down on the table as he waited for some of the addresses Tyrell had told him about. While waiting, he explained to Jones and Mia what his conversation with Tyrell was about.

  “Were you on the debate team in high school?” Mia said. “’Cause you have a gift for getting people to change their mind on things.”

  “No, I was on the archery squad.”

  “No surprise there.”

  “And I don’t think I really did much to change his mind,” Recker said. “I think he knows if Jeremiah did it to me, he’d do it to him.”

  After a few more moments, Recker’s phone started going off. It was texts from Tyrell listing some of the addresses Jeremiah used for meetings. He also listed a few of the nightclubs he knew Jeremiah liked to go to. Recker grabbed a piece of paper and started writing them down so they could put them through the computer and start analyzing the locations. As they started plugging the addresses in, Jones had one final thought about locating Bernal, not wanting to give up on it.

  “Can we try one last thing with Bernal?” Jones asked.

  “Are you still on that?” Recker said.

  “Humor me for a second.”

  “If you want.”

  “Try having another talk with his girlfriend, Maria Guerrero.”

  “As me or as Detective Scarborough?”

  “As your detective alter ego,” Jones said.

  “Why? What good would it do? She already blew me off once.”

  “She may be more willing to talk this time around.”

  “What makes you think that?” Recker asked, not seeing how the second time would be better than the first.

  “If Maria Guerrero knows a man like Vincent is coming after her boyfriend, knowing his reputation, she may be more willing to help you out in finding him before Vincent does.”

  “David, I think it’s a waste of time. Just let Vincent do what we agreed to let him do. Why are you so adamant about not giving Vincent the opportunity to do what we couldn’t?”

  “Because Officer Perez’s life is at stake. And I’m still worried about whether Vincent will be able to find him either. Or whether he’ll have the same sense of urgency we do. After all, how willing or eager is Vincent at saving the life of a police officer?” Jones said. “They’re not exactly on the same side you know.”

  “Well, technically, neither are we.”

  “There is a fundamental difference between Vincent and us. I’m sure I don’t need to explain it to you any further.”

  “Fine. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll go to Guerrero’s house again, OK?” Recker said finally, seeing how important it seemed to be to Jones.

  “That’s all I ask.”

  “And if she gives me nothing again?”

  “If she doesn’t tell you anything, then I’ll stop harping on it and leave it alone from now on.”

  “You will?” Recker asked, not sure he believed it.

  “I give you my word. If you get nothing of value, then I promise I won’t say another word about it and let Vincent work his course, for better or for worse.”

  “All right. I’ll give it one more shot with her. Then I’m checking a few of these houses that are on Jeremiah’s list.”

  “Noted,” Jones said.

  Recker made sure he was loaded up, taking a few extra guns more than usual, just in case he ran into trouble at any of the addresses Tyrell had provided. He bid adieu to Jones and Mia and left the office, hopeful he’d come back with more information than he’d left with. After Recker was gone, Jones looked at Mia, thinking she was handling everything very well. She didn’t seem to be fazed by any of the work they were doing, or how they talked, or what they planned on doing. She was much calmer about everything than Jones had expected.

  “I must say you’re doing a good job in handling your emotions,” Jones said.

  “Huh? What emotions?”

  “Well, if you and Mike proceed with your relationship, then I have to say I admire how calm you seem. He goes out and meets crime bosses, and criminals, and dangerous people, men with guns who could try to kill him, but you don’t outwardly show any worries.”

  “And you’re surprised?” she asked.

  “Truthfully, yes.”

  “Well I don’t see how it’d do any good for me to be hanging all over him and telling him to be careful and all that. He already knows to be.”

  “I agree.”

  “I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to be one of those girlfr—well, whatever it is I am,” Mia said, stopping short of labeling herself since she still wasn’t positive yet what their relationship was. “I guess I figure if I keep harping on him to be careful, and worrying about him, and crying on his shoulder, then it gets his focus off what it should be on and onto
me.”

  “I must say I admire your attitude,” Jones said.

  I know how good he is, it’s not like he’s someone who’s not experienced or something. If he’s out there worrying about me and what I think, then I know that’s probably when he’d end up getting hurt. I can’t say I’m not worried or I never will be, but I can’t let it show.”

  “Well, there’s nothing wrong with showing worry and concern. As long as you don’t let it become a sticking point. That’s when it would become a problem,” Jones said, offering some advice.

  Recker’s first stop after leaving the office was Maria Guerrero’s home. Just as he did the first time he was there, he parked down the street and kept an eye out on the place. In the event Bernal doubled back to the comfort of his girlfriend’s house, Recker didn’t want to make the potential mistake of barging in and scaring his target away without knowing whether he was actually there or not. Recker sat there for two hours, just watching, and waiting and, without seeing a stitch of movement, decided he’d had enough of that. He got out of his car and walked to the Guerrero house and pounded on the door. Much to Recker’s surprise, the door was answered much quicker this time. He only had to knock a couple of times before Guerrero came to the door.

  “Hi, rememb…,” Recker said, stopping when he saw the side of Guerrero’s face.

  Her face was swollen and bruised, and her eye was puffy. Gone was the overconfident and cocky person that he talked to before, and instead was replaced by a battered and beaten woman. She looked despondent in her current condition.

  “Do you remember me?” Recker asked, concerned for her wellbeing.

  “Yes,” she said with a single nod of her head.

  “Are you OK? Do you need help?”

  Guerrero shook her head and shrugged, seeming indifferent. “What do you want?” she asked, holding her face, without a shred of the spirit she showed in their first encounter.

  “Who did that to you?”

  She shook her head again, not wanting to go into it. “Nobody.”

  “I know you didn’t just run into a wall or something,” Recker said.

  “It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing you can do.”

  “Did Adrian do it?”

  She shook her head once again, a painful expression overtaking her face. “No, it wasn’t him.”

  “Then who?”

  “Please, it doesn’t matter.”

  Recker took her at her word it wasn’t Bernal who had beaten her face to a pulp. But if it wasn’t him, he wondered who else would have done it to her. It could’ve been one of his conspirators, but Recker figured it was a long shot, assuming whoever did it would’ve had to answer to Bernal for their misdeeds. Considering how she acted to him before, and she was most likely hiding the fugitive, even if she only knew where he was, he probably shouldn’t have been as interested in her misfortunes as he was. But Recker ignored it all. What he saw right now was a beaten, humbled woman standing in front of him. After thinking about it, Recker thought he might have had the answer. He pulled out his phone and tapped into a computer database they used in the office Jones allowed him to be hooked up to. He scrolled through some pictures of the more well known, less than scrupulous, criminals the city had to offer. He stopped at the one he thought might have done this to Guerrero. Recker turned his phone around and showed her the picture.

  “This didn’t happen to be the guy, was it?” Recker asked.

  Guerrero took a look at the picture but quickly looked away, not wanting to spend another second having to see the man’s face again. The agonizing look on her face told Recker all he needed, without her having to say a word or confirm it really was him.

  “Please go away,” she said somberly.

  “I can help you if you tell me where Adrian is now,” Recker said.

  “I...I don’t know.”

  Recker couldn’t tell anymore whether she was being truthful or not. Before it was easy to tell she was lying. Now, she just seemed like she wanted to curl up in a corner somewhere. “If you don’t, some innocent people are going to wind up getting hurt.”

  “What’s it look like to you right now?”

  “I can help if you let me.”

  “If I knew anything, don’t you think I would’ve already told the guy who did this?”

  Recker wasn’t sure how else, if at all, he could get through to her. He didn’t have much more of a chance though. Before he could think of anything else, Guerrero ended the conversation by giving him a smile, then calmly closed the door on him. Recker walked back to his car, and though he wasn’t happy the woman had been beaten, was content with his efforts. There wasn’t much more he could do, especially if she wasn’t willing to cooperate. Before Recker got going with his other business, he called Jones to let him know what happened and to inform him he was moving on.

  “Looks like we close the books on Bernal,” Recker said.

  “The girlfriend still won’t talk, huh?” Jones asked.

  “No. She was much more pleasant about it this time, though.”

  “Oh?”

  “I guess it’s tough to be snarky when half your face is black and blue.”

  “Black and blue?”

  “You didn’t...”

  “Of course I didn’t,” Recker said, anticipating where Jones was going with that.

  “I should hope not.”

  “I didn’t. But somebody sure did.”

  “One of Adrian Bernal’s associates no doubt,” Jones said.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “I showed her a few pictures. A couple she had no reaction to. But one, one she could hardly look at. She turned away instead of looking at it.”

  “Whose picture was it?”

  “Jimmy Malloy.”

  “I guess it means Vincent’s making good on his promise,” Jones said.

  “He did say he could be more persuasive than us.”

  “I would’ve hoped it meant not beating up on women, though. I guess nothing’s off limits to them.”

  “Not much,” Recker said. “At least we know they’re working the case though.”

  “What about Maria Guerrero?”

  “What about her? I asked if she knew where Bernal was. I asked if I could help her. She still won’t talk or accept help. There’s nothing else we can do for her. You can only help people who’ll let you.”

  “I know. I guess that’s that then.”

  “Seems so.”

  “Are you satisfied now?” Recker asked. “Can you accept Vincent’s on it? Can we move on?”

  Jones sighed, still not liking it, but agreed anyway. “Yes. What are your plans now?”

  “Stake out a couple houses on Tyrell’s list.”

  “When you say stake out, you mean?”

  “Well, we’ll just see how it plays out.”

  12

  Recker’s first stop was an address on sixty-second Street. As he usually did, he parked down the street to survey the area for a while. The address actually wasn’t a house and appeared to be a vacant building. It had two roll up bay doors, along with an entrance door, giving Recker the impression it was possibly an auto repair garage at one time, or maybe some type of shipping business. In any case, there was some graffiti on the bay doors and he didn’t notice any kind of activity going on to indicate it was a thriving or active business.

  Jones had gotten back to him with information on the building after digging into records and confirmed it did indeed use to be an auto garage. But it’d been closed for several years. The current owner of the building wasn’t listed as Jeremiah, and the name on the lease didn’t appear to have any connections to him, at least no obvious ones. It was possible one of Jeremiah’s men had taken care of the contractual obligations to leave his name off it. Recker just sat and waited, hoping something would catch his eye at some point. If not, he’d eventually just break in somehow and see if there was anything inside which would give him some information
into Jeremiah’s business dealings. Luckily for him, he wouldn’t have to resort to such dealings.

  After a couple hours of waiting, he observed an expensive looking black SUV pull up, parking along the curb near the front of the building. Four men piled out of the car and milled around on the sidewalk by the door for a few minutes, seemingly joking around with each other. One of the men eventually pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door, allowing the others with him to enter the facility. Recker gave them an hour to themselves before he decided to approach the building, just in case they had more visitors coming. He also wanted to make sure there was nobody else already inside the building, though he made what he thought was a safe assumption that there wasn’t, considering they had to unlock the doors themselves. As he approached the building, Recker continuously looked around, just in case there were lookouts on the perimeter. Since there didn’t appear to be any, he walked right up to the glass door and started pounding on it. Within a few seconds one of the men he recognized from the car came up to the door. He opened it just a little so he could see who the stranger was.

  “What do you want, man?”

  “Oh, I just came here to deliver a pizza,” Recker said.

  “What?”

  “Pizza. Someone here order a pizza?”

  The man looked at Recker like he was crazy. “No, no one here ordered a pizza!”

  “Oh, my mistake. I must have the wrong address.”

  “You don’t even have a pizza.”

  “Oh, I left it in the car till I made sure I had the right place.”

  “Well you got the wrong place. Hit the road, bud.”

  “Sure, no problem. Could you just look at this and let me know where this is before I go,” Recker said, reaching into his coat for something.

  The man didn’t want to help him with anything and looked perturbed about Recker wasting his time and was about to shut the door in his face. Recker removed his gun from inside his coat and fired point blank at the man’s chest, putting a couple holes in it. As the man fell backwards from the blast, Recker stepped over the man’s dead body as he quickly identified where the other men were. There was a small folding card table in the middle of the room where the other three men were sitting. There were a few handguns on the table along with some sandwiches. As soon as the men heard the gunfire at the door and saw their friend fall, they jumped to their feet, grabbing their weapons. Recker fired a couple rounds, hitting two of them immediately, though not fatally. With bullets heading back in his direction, Recker took cover behind a small counter near the front door. It must have been a cashier station left over from its previous life.

 

‹ Prev