Ten Two Jack

by Diane Capri

  Scorpio’s armpits were sweating now. He pulled his jacket off and loosened his collar.

  Next, the newscaster described the murder briefly. “Mrs. Bavolsky was shot and killed in an apparent home invasion in Lake Forest, police say. The murder occurred Friday afternoon. Mrs. Bavolsky was working alone during an open house at the home of Rex Mackenzie, a business associate of her husband’s. Neither Mr. Bavolsky nor Mr. Mackenzie could be reached for comment.”

  Scorpio turned up the volume and replayed the end of the report three times to be sure he’d heard correctly.

  As the anchorman talked, a short video clip of three men rolled across the screen. Scorpio recognized two of them. Thorn had shown him the photos of the bodies inside that black SUV at the U Store Stuff lot.

  “Big Mike Bavolsky’s brother, Walter Bavolsky, and two others were convicted last year on multiple counts of money laundering and drug trafficking. The convictions were related to sales of controlled pharmaceuticals, including oxycodone and other opioids. Walter Bavolsky remains incarcerated at Statesville prison in Joliette.”

  Scorpio closed the video and sat back to think. A few things were now crystal clear in his mind, and all of them were potentially lethal. He ticked each one off on his fingers.

  Mackenzie was connected to organized crime, just as he’d surmised.

  The porn on that flash drive was produced by Polish Brothers Limited, probably owned by Big Mike and Walter Bavolsky.

  The drugs Scorpio had taken from the U Store Stuff unit in St. Louis might not be the same drugs that Reacher stole from him. They might belong to Bavolsky.

  The porn on that flash drive definitely belonged to Bavolsky.

  The gemstones were probably Bavolsky’s, too.

  All that could be fixed. There was nothing, anywhere, that connected him to Bavolsky’s property. At least, not yet. Bavolsky could be arrested for drug trafficking any minute, too. If that happened, Scorpio would have time to sell the drugs before Bavolsky’s crew came after him.

  He hadn’t set up the porn business on the dark web yet. He could alter the videos. And the dark web was a place where he could operate anonymously for years. Bavolsky would never know who stole them.

  A fence for loose gemstones should be fairly easy to find in any major city.

  All of which meant he had breathing room.

  Scorpio admitted the most serious item last.

  He’d killed a mobster’s wife.

  That could not be undone. If Bavolsky found him, he’d kill him for that alone.

  A few hours’ rest was out of the question. He could sleep in Mexico.

  He opened his laptop again. He searched and found Latino Tours. A tour to Monterrey, Mexico, through Laredo, Texas, was scheduled to leave the hotel within the hour.

  They would leave the bus once it crossed into Mexico at Nuevo Laredo on the Mexican side of the Rio Grande. The tour guide might be alarmed, but she wouldn’t delay the entire bus to look for two missing passengers. Even if she did, she wouldn’t find them.

  He located a charter jet service departing from Quetzalcoatl International Airport for the flight to Guadalajara.

  He made reservations using the counterfeit Swiss passports for the bus tour and Irish passports to book the jet. For the Guadalajara hotel, he used the Luxembourg passports and guaranteed the room with a credit card tied to a Luxembourg bank account held in the same name.

  Maybe that would be enough layers of protection for now. Mexico was a place people could go to disappear. And Bavolsky didn’t look like a genius on those news clips. Mackenzie wasn’t a criminal mastermind, and he’d managed to rip the guy off. How smart could Bavolsky be?

  He was feeling better when he closed the laptop, awakened Thorn, and stumbled toward the shower.

  They were on their way to meet the tour bus outside the hotel with plenty of time to spare.

  CHAPTER 37

  Saturday, February 12

  5:25 p.m.

  San Antonio, Texas

  “I think Jane is at the center of this. Jane went looking for Rose. Jane is the one who rescued her sister, with Reacher’s help. Jane brought her sister to Lake Forest. It’s Jane’s husband who’s laundering money for Bavolsky and sleeping with his wife. Jane’s husband hired Bramall. It’s all about Jane. Everything.” She shook her head and tapped the whiteboard. “The trigger is something to do with Jane.”

  Gaspar nodded. “Okay. So the Boy Detective was right. This whole thing is some kind of Thelma and Louise deal?”

  “In the sense that the two sisters are on the road together for some reason, I think so.” She found the Boss’s cell phone and placed the call. Again, she put the call on speakerphone so Gaspar could participate.

  When the Boss picked up, she said, “Where is Bramall?”

  “Funny you should ask.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning we don’t know. He and Mackenzie reboarded the Gulfstream 100 about an hour ago. They didn’t file a flight plan.”

  “You don’t have eyes on the jet?” She controlled her anger. Barely. There were at least a dozen ways to find aircraft in flight. He could have that intel in an hour. Maybe less. So why didn’t he?

  “There’s a lot of needles in that haystack,” he replied tersely. “Most importantly for our purposes is another large-scale investigation by the Organized Crime Drug Enforcement Task Force. Which, as you know, is a multi-agency task force that includes federal and state agencies. This investigation is concentrated in Chicago. Indictments are due next week.”

  “Is Noble working on this?” Gaspar asked.

  “Noble was not involved originally, but he has joined the effort. When the locals arrested Walt Bavolsky two years ago, they didn’t know about the larger investigation. Now they do.”

  Gaspar asked, “Prescription opioids?”

  “Heroin and fentanyl primarily. Smuggled from Mexico. Based in Mexico City, they think,” the Boss replied.

  “Mexico City? That’s pretty unusual for heroin trafficking,” Gaspar said.

  “They’re getting more brazen. The kingpins don’t want to live in squalor anymore. They’ve got the money and they want to spend it,” the Boss replied.

  “Who’s on the indictment list?” Otto said, with a sinking feeling.

  “There were originally forty-six indictments charging various offenses. Big Mike Bavolsky and those two dead thugs, Jimmy Two and Little Hugh, were on the list.” He paused. “Four additional names were added a few days ago.”

  Otto held her breath. She knew what was coming.

  “Rex Mackenzie, Jane Mackenzie, Rose Sanderson, and Terrence Bramall.”

  Gaspar whistled. “What are the allegations against them?”

  “On the first forty-six, charges range from drug trafficking to money laundering and a few firearms offenses,” the Boss said.

  “And what about the four latecomers?” Otto asked, and her stomach flipped.

  “Aiding and abetting Bavolsky’s crew in various ways,” he took a breath. “The alleged facts are very specific. Times, dates, places, amounts. Sounds like they had an informant.”

  “You’re thinking Rex Mackenzie had turned on Bavolsky while he was still sleeping with Bavolsky’s wife? Trying to get Big Mike out of the way?”

  The Boss replied, “We’re still chasing that down. But it wouldn’t have been the dumbest thing Mackenzie has done so far.”

  Otto replied, “The informants could have been Rose and Jane. Maybe Mackenzie found out. Maybe that’s why he’s chasing them.”

  “Possibly,” the Boss said. “The indictments are on your server. The details suggest wiretaps and phone records, among other things. You can read them for yourself.”

  Otto said nothing. Gaspar waited, too.

  The Boss said, “I checked those passports you asked Finlay about. Only three names on the list traveled outside the US in the past year.”

  “Let me guess,” Otto said. “Jane Mackenzie, Rose Sanderson, and Jack Reac
her.”

  CHAPTER 38

  Saturday, February 12

  5:45 p.m.

  San Antonio, Texas

  Gaspar stared at her as if she’d grown another head.

  The Boss said, “I’ve sent you the dates and locations. You’re going to Mexico City tonight. Gaspar, too. We intercepted communications. They’re already on the way. We don’t know why Bramall and Mackenzie are headed there, but we’ll know before you arrive.”

  Otto said, “Do you expect Reacher to be in Mexico City waiting for them?”

  The Boss paused briefly and then ignored the question. “Your flight departs in two hours. A car will pick you up in front of your hotel in twenty minutes.”

  As they were packing up, Gaspar said, “I have no idea how you think, Suzie Wong. You know that, right?”

  She smiled. “No offense, Cheech, but I have no idea how you think, either. That’s why you’ve been so helpful to me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You think like Reacher. I don’t.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “How did you know that those three passports would pop like that?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t know. Not for sure. But it makes sense, doesn’t it?”

  He shook his head. “Not even remotely.”

  She pulled her bag to the door and stood to the side to hold it open. He limped through into the corridor and walked toward the elevator. He pushed the call button. The elevator doors opened immediately. They entered the elevator car and pushed the button for the lobby.

  On the way down, she said, “We’re not dealing with runaway teens without ID or the wherewithal to stay missing for two weeks. It’s a reasonable assumption that at least one of the twelve adults used a passport and left the country within the last year. Checking passports should have been one of Noble’s first moves. If he did a passport check, he didn’t tell us.”

  “The Boss didn’t mention the passports until after you asked Finlay, either.” Gaspar nodded.

  “But the Boss already knew those three had traveled outside the country, whether he told us or not.” She paused. “If any of the others had used passports for international travel, he would have mentioned it because the others are not relevant to his desire to find Reacher.”

  “Why keep the intel about Rose, Jane, and Reacher from us, though?” Gaspar shook his head. “Some kind of test?”

  “His motives are indecipherable.” Otto shrugged.

  Gaspar had another issue. “And the details in those last four indictments. You figure those came from one of the four who are being indicted.”

  Otto nodded. “But the question is, which one? What kind of pressure is being applied here? By whom? And to what end?”

  The elevator stopped on the first floor, and they walked through the lobby toward the valet entrance. A Latino Tours bus bound for Monterrey, Mexico, blocked traffic at the valet stand. Passengers were boarding slowly.

  The last few tourists were lined up behind a scrawny guy who walked with a cane. His left hand rested in his pocket. His gait was labored and twisty. The man standing behind him was huge. Probably at least two-hundred-fifty pounds and built like a linebacker.

  Otto cocked her head and watched as the scrawny guy struggled to mount the steps into the big coach. The big guy waited patiently, although the tourists behind him were fidgety. The scrawny guy finally climbed into the coach, and the tourist line began moving again.

  Gaspar cleared his throat. “Earth to Suzie Wong.”

  She turned her attention to him. “Did that guy look familiar to you?”

  “What guy?” He stretched his neck to look at the line of tourists, but the scrawny man was already inside, and the tinted windows blocked the interior of the coach.

  “The big guy,” she shook her head as if to clear it of clutter. She didn’t want to say he reminded her of Reacher, but he did. Reacher was a guy who often took the bus, too. It could have been him.

  “I didn’t see him,” Gaspar replied with a shrug. “When we get the new files from the Boss, I’ve got fifty bucks that says we’ll find Jane, Rose, and Reacher making trips to Mexico City within the past year.”

  “You’re on,” Otto replied, still preoccupied. She looked until she saw the car the Boss ordered parked a few spaces from the door and moved in that direction.

  Gaspar followed. He tossed the bags into the trunk and joined her inside the cabin on the back seat.

  He asked, “Why are you betting against Mexico City? Given that we’re on the way there, under orders, it seems the obvious answer.”

  “Nothing about this case has been obvious from the first minute. Why start now?” She shrugged, still preoccupied. The driver pulled into the flow of traffic and headed toward the airport.

  Gaspar asked, “What do you think we’ll find in the passport data?”

  “The Boss said Jane, Rose, and Reacher had left the country. He didn’t say they’d traveled together, or what mode of transportation they used, or even when or where they came and went,” she replied. Traffic was lighter now than it had been earlier. She glanced at her watch. They were making good time.

  “Relax, Sunshine. It’s a private jet. The pilot won’t leave without us,” Gaspar grinned.

  Otto barely heard him. She was still preoccupied with the tourists in line at the coach. The big guy stuck out in her mind. Most of the men she’d seen in San Antonio were average height, average weight. He was the first oversized guy she’d noticed since they’d arrived.

  Their driver pulled into the private airport and stopped on the tarmac near the waiting jet the Boss ordered. Gaspar climbed out of the back seat on the passenger side and met the driver at the trunk.

  Otto followed, slowly. Her imagination was working overtime.

  Not only had the big guy boarding that motor coach seemed familiar, but the scrawny guy did, too. Or maybe it was the pair of men together that had tapped her subconscious? She closed her eyes briefly to recall the way the scrawny guy twisted and struggled to walk and climb the steps into the motor coach. She’d seen that before. Twice before.

  “Yes. That’s it,” she murmured as she gathered her bags and followed Gaspar to the jet stairs.

  “What’s what?” Gaspar asked.

  “Maybe I’m crazy. We need to catch that Latino Tours coach.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “At first, I thought the big guy could have been Reacher.”

  Gaspar stared at her.

  “But now, I think those guys are the same two guys we saw on the videotapes. At Mackenzie’s mansion and at his dry cleaners,” she said.

  Gaspar shook his head. “Come on. How likely is that? We came here to interview General Simpson and then spur of the moment, checked into that hotel to work. Not likely that Reacher or anyone else connected with this case was getting on that bus, is it?”

  She shrugged. “Which is why it didn’t register in my mind at first. But the more I think about the way the skinny guy moved….”

  “We need to go. Besides, they’re on the bus, and it’s already on the move. We probably couldn’t catch it now even if we tried.” Gaspar shook his head. “The Boss can chase it down. Tour buses crossing the border are required to have a manifest and collect passports and all that. Records will exist. If those guys are on that tour, they’ll be easy enough to find. Tour buses have a defined itinerary. Those two guys don’t move very fast. You don’t have to carry the whole load on everything, Sunshine. Let the Boss do something for a change.”

  “You’re right. Go on inside. Download the new files. I’ll make the call.” She found the Boss’s cell and pressed the redial button. He didn’t answer after ten rings. She left him a voicemail message with the details about the Latino Tours coach and the two men inside. He’d have plenty of time to sort out the intel before this flight landed in Mexico City.

  She hurried up the jet stairs.

  CHAPTER 39

  Saturday, February 12

  6
:25 p.m.

  In flight to Mexico City

  Otto stepped into the Gulfstream 500, one of the newest private jets on the market. She quickly recalled the plane’s features. Depending on the configuration, the G-500 could seat up to nineteen passengers.

  The good news was that the G-500 could fly high, fast, and far. The bad news was that it needed about a mile of runway for takeoff. Which meant a limited number of airports could accommodate it.

  Two pilots were required. Assuming these two were competent and the machine well maintained, the four-hour flight to Mexico City should be uneventful.

  Otto glanced around the cabin. “Wow.”

  “Not bad at all, is it?” Gaspar looked up from his laptop and grinned. He was the only other passenger. He was seated at a desk next to a big screen television. “Stow your bags in the back and look around. I’m almost done downloading this stuff.”

  She figured the plane must have been seized from a wealthy oil baron or the head of a successful drug cartel. The interior was definitely customized to suit luxurious tastes.

  For starters, there was more room inside the cabin than some Manhattan apartments. The décor was contemporary, shiny black everything and buttercream leather upholstery with burnt orange throw pillows. Plush seats resembled those in a private screening room any Hollywood mogul would find acceptable.

  The galley was nicer than her apartment, featuring granite countertops and a modern sink and appliances. The lavatories were likely the same.

  In the back of the plane were two couches on opposite sides of the cabin, which probably converted to exceptionally comfortable beds. She stashed her bag in the roomy closet next to Gaspar’s.

  She returned to the front of the cabin and sat across the aisle from him. The door had been closed, and the engines were rumbling. “I’ve been on a lot of private planes. When I was working for the consulting firm, quite a few clients owned Gulfstreams. This is definitely the most impressively appointed G-500 I’ve ever seen. How about you?”