Ten Two Jack

by Diane Capri

  He wasn’t mistaken. He recognized them both.

  He’d met with the first one back in Rapid City months ago. A private investigator. He was looking for Rose Sanderson back then. He’d said her sister hired him. Scorpio had not seen him since. What was his name? Bramall. That’s right. Terrence Bramall. From Chicago.

  He recognized the second man right away, although Scorpio had never spoken to him. Rex Mackenzie. In living color.

  “Well, well, well,” Scorpio said quietly.

  Mackenzie’s flash drive rested in Scorpio’s pocket, where his damaged left hand touched it often, like a talisman. Maybe that had worked better than a lucky rabbit’s foot. After all, Mackenzie was not fifteen feet ahead of him on the escalator in a country where they might both disappear forever.

  Scorpio kept his eye on Bramall and Mackenzie as they reached the bottom and walked off toward the ground transportation exit.

  To Thorn, he said, “See those two guys straight ahead?”

  “I do. That looks like Mackenzie. Who’s the guy with him?”

  “Guy’s name is Bramall. Retired FBI. Last time I saw him, he was with Reacher.”

  Thorn’s eyebrows popped up. “That so? You figure they’re here to meet Reacher now?”

  “Only one way to find out,” Scorpio said. “Get us a car and driver. And keep your eye on them. Whatever they’re doing here, this is my chance to take care of Mackenzie.”

  “Ten-four, boss. I’ll meet you outside,” Thorn replied. He moved ahead, closing the distance Bramall and Mackenzie had gained.

  By the time Scorpio reached the curb, Thorn had secured a car and driver. He had stowed the bags in the trunk of the sedan. He’d also bribed the driver to pursue the other vehicle. Given the city’s reputation for inexpensive services, Thorn appeared slightly shocked by the high cost of the bribe. Supply and demand, he figured.

  Scorpio stepped into the sedan and the driver pulled away from the airport, speeding up to catch Mackenzie’s car.

  Both vehicles blended into traffic and headed toward the city.

  Scorpio had never been to Guadalajara. The modern buildings and good roads pleased him. Businesses along the roadside were recognizable US franchises. Burger joints and other fast food emporiums were the same as those he had seen on the drive from Chicago. Retail businesses were familiar American and European discounters, shops, and brands.

  Traffic was congested. American cars, trucks, and SUVs mingled with luxury vehicles from Germany, Japan, France, and Great Britain.

  When they entered a part of the city where the nightclubs and restaurants were plentiful, the women were dressed in expensive couture, and the men were equally well attired. The streets were clean, the sidewalks wide, and all were brightly lit. Rooftop bars and restaurants perched atop the buildings.

  Scorpio smiled. Rapid City had never been as vibrant late at night. Not on Saturdays or any other day of the week. He was going to love living here. He knew it. He felt at home already.

  In a quieter section of the city, the driver slowed, pointed through the windshield, and said, “The car has stopped at Segovia Alcazar Hotel.”

  Thorn told the driver, “Wait back here. Let’s see what happens.”

  The driver snugged closer to the curb on the opposite side of the street, half a block behind Mackenzie’s car. There was a scattering of pedestrians on the sidewalks, and the traffic had thinned a few blocks back.

  Scorpio lowered his window. Warm air wafted into the car and kissed his face. From a rooftop across a narrow side street by the hotel, strains of live jazz floated on the breeze.

  The black sedan had pulled up in front of a hotel that resembled a Spanish castle. A royal blue awning arched over the royal blue carpet that led to the front entrance. Mackenzie stepped out of the back seat, and a few moments later, Bramall followed.

  They walked to the front entrance where a liveried doorman opened the door, and they went inside.

  “What is this place?” Scorpio asked.

  “Segovia Alcazar Hotel,” the driver said again as if the answer was obvious. He pointed to the high-rise next door. “That’s El Megor Cosmetic Surgery Clinic. Tourists come to the clinic for facelifts, boob jobs. Then they stay at Segovia Alcazar Hotel until they get better and go home.”

  How civilized, Scorpio thought. But why would Mackenzie and Bramall come here? Was Reacher recovering from surgery?

  Not likely.

  But Mackenzie’s wife seemed like the type to get herself nipped and tucked. Scorpio had never met Jane Mackenzie, but he knew the type. A beautiful woman like that thrived on one thing only. Beauty. Which didn’t last forever.

  Thorn said, “Seen enough, boss? Our hotel is a couple of miles away.”

  Scorpio considered the situation for a couple of minutes. He was tired. He’d like to rest before he confronted Mackenzie. His stomach growled. The nuts and dried fruit he’d eaten on the plane were a distant memory.

  But if he lost sight of Bramall and Mackenzie, could he find them again? They might be flying out tonight. If he came back tomorrow, they could be in the wind again.

  It was a risk he was loath to take.

  “Pull up to the door,” he said. “We’ll get out here.”

  When they were standing on the sidewalk, Thorn still handling the bags, Scorpio said, “Get inside before they disappear. Find out where they’re going. But be discreet about it.”

  Thorn shoved the bags in a corner near the entrance and strode inside.

  Scorpio fumbled along behind until he reached a comfortable sofa in the lobby. He didn’t see Thorn anywhere, so he sat on the sofa to wait.

  He didn’t wait long. The elevator doors opened, and Thorn emerged. He nodded.

  Scorpio used his cane to leverage off the sofa’s plush seat and made his way to the elevator.

  Thorn pushed the call button. “Mackenzie and Bramall entered Suite 706.”

  Scorpio nodded. He entered the elevator car, and Thorn punched the button for the seventh floor.

  CHAPTER 43

  Saturday, February 12

  11:25 p.m.

  Guadalajara, Mexico

  The doorbell rang. Rose cast a meaningful glance at her sister. No one moved.

  The bell chimed again. And again.

  “Want me to get that?” Gaspar asked. It was a reasonable question. He was seated in the chair closest to the door.

  When neither sister answered, and the bell rang a fourth time, he went to the door. “You’re expecting Reacher to return, I take it? You don’t want him to know we’re here. Is that it?”

  Gaspar opened the door just as the bell was ringing once more. “May I help you, gentlemen?”

  From her vantage point in the sitting room, Otto couldn’t see the visitors. But she recognized the voices when they said almost simultaneously, “Who the hell are you?”

  The sisters must have recognized Bramall and Mackenzie, too. Everybody stood up. Otto unbuttoned her jacket. The last time she’d seen Bramall and Mackenzie, someone almost choked her to death. She still had bruises on her neck. They wouldn’t catch her by surprise again.

  Rose was the first to find her voice. “You’re not welcome here, Rex. Bramall, get him out of here.”

  “Brave words for a woman wearing pajamas,” Rex replied. He gave the door a hard shove, catching Gaspar unaware, and strode into the room.

  Bramall followed. The sitting room was not large enough to accommodate six. Everyone remained standing.

  “Don’t get your panties in a wad. We’re not staying long.” Rex’s gaze swept across his wife. He saw Otto last. His face reddened, and his nostrils flared. “Why are you dogging me? What the hell do you want?”

  “Take it down a notch, Rex.” Bramall laid an arm across Rex’s chest, which did nothing to subdue his heavy breathing.

  “This is Rex Mackenzie. I’m Terry Bramall,” he said. “You’re Otto’s partner, Carlos Gaspar, right?”

  “The one and only,” Gaspar quipped. “Th
e ladies don’t seem to want your friend here. It’s late. You should go.”

  “We’ll go when we get what I came for,” Rex snarled. “Hand it over, Jane.”

  Jane’s eyes widened. She put her right hand to her throat. “Hand what over? I don’t have anything that belongs to you.”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it,” Rex raised his voice to a level the entire seventh floor could hear. “Give me my flash drive and I’ll go. You can keep the money. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Jane shouted.

  Rex shoved Bramall’s arm aside and pushed closer to Jane. “You took it. You took the flash drive. Give it to me.”

  “Get out! Go back to Chicago and your precious Brooke. She’s a mobster’s wife. You know that, right? When Big Mike Bavolsky finds out you’re screwing her, you’ll be the one who gets screwed, Rex. You can count on that.”

  He seemed to deflate on the spot. His shoulders slumped. He dropped his gaze and lowered his voice. “You’re a fool, Jane. You’ve always been a fool. You actually think my little dry-cleaning business was supporting our lifestyle? Where do you think all the money came from, huh?”

  Jane gasped. Rose stepped in front of her sister.

  “She didn’t take your flash drive, Rex. I was there. I’d have seen her do it,” Rose said as if she was talking a man down off a bridge.

  Rex snapped. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a nine-millimeter pistol. He pointed it at Jane. “Give me the flash drive, Jane. That’s all I need. Right now. I’ll kill you to get it back. That should tell you how serious I am.”

  Jane shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have your flash drive.”

  “Liar! You stole the flash drive from my safe. You stole my money. And you killed Brooke. I’m not screwing around, Jane. Give me that drive.”

  Her eyes opened wide. She gasped and slapped a palm over her mouth. She whispered, “Brooke is dead?”

  He sneered. “Like you didn’t notice when you shot her in the face.”

  “Me? I didn’t kill anyone!” Jane shook her head and plopped down on the loveseat. “I can’t believe you’d accuse me of murder. I took the money. That’s all. I figured I was entitled. I’ve put up with you for ten years, Rex. Doesn’t that entitle me to something?”

  He kept the gun steady, aimed in her direction, but he seemed unsure for the first time since he’d burst into the room.

  Now was Otto’s chance to disarm him. She spoke up. “I found a flash drive in that storage unit in St. Louis. I didn’t know it was yours. You can have it back.”

  He glanced toward her. She saw that he wanted the flash drive more than he wanted his wife back. He must have been terrified of Big Mike Bavolsky. Based on what Otto knew of the man, Rex was smart to be afraid.

  “The flash drive is in my pocket. Let me get it, okay?” She reached into her pocket and Rex went wild.

  “You’re trying to trick me!” he yelled.

  “I’m not. I swear. Let me get it.”

  He aimed the gun directly at Otto’s head. He nodded. “Slowly. You pull a gun out of there, and I’ll shoot you without a second’s hesitation.”

  “My gun’s in my holster, Rex.” She pulled her jacket aside to show him the shoulder holster snugged against her body.

  Then she pulled the flash drive from her pocket and held it out to him in her palm.

  “You bitch! That’s not my flash drive! Where’s the real one?” He waved the gun.

  Jane screamed. “Rex, stop! Stop!”

  Otto had been watching for a chance to disarm or disable him. He’d taken a physical position that made the task impossible. The room was too small and the risk of harm to others too great. Rex wasn’t rational. He’d kill at least one of the sisters fast, no matter what she did. Even a big, tough, man like Reacher would’ve been stymied. For now.

  She had to wait. Hope to talk him through until the play changed.

  Before she had the chance, Rose changed everything.

  She jumped up and rushed toward Rex.

  “Rose!” Jane screamed.

  The effort proved foolhardy.

  He drew his gun back and delivered one swift, hard blow to her temple.

  Rose staggered.

  Mackenzie grabbed her and put the barrel of the gun directly to her head. She slumped against him, stunned by the blow.

  He became strangely calm again. “You know what, Jane? I believe you. Rose is the one. She did it all.”

  Jane was crying now. “She didn’t. She hasn’t done anything, Rex, I swear.”

  “You don’t have the guts, do you, Jane? You never did.” He shook his head. “Of course, it was Rose. She’s a decorated war hero. A trained killer. We know that. One of the best West Point could produce. She’s a thief and an addict, too. It had to be Rose.”

  “Rex,” Bramall said calmly. “This isn’t helping. Let her go. We’ll find your flash drive. It’s here somewhere.”

  Rose’s eyes were unfocused. Her head wobbled. She tried to bite Rex’s forearm. She didn’t get a good grip. Nor did she do much damage, but the bite was hard enough to make him angrier.

  He gripped her harder and shoved the gun barrel against her head, pushing her head down against her shoulder.

  “You bitch! I’ll kill you!”

  “Yeah, well, go ahead. Do it, Rex. Do it now. Then these FBI agents will kill you. You’ll never get your precious flash drive. You’ll never get anything else. Ever.”

  He grabbed her tighter. “Give it back!”

  Otto watched for an opening. She could drop Rex with one shot, but Rose was in the way.

  Rose’s speech was slurred, but firm. “Listen to me, you moron. I took your money. You know why? Because you took my drugs. You sold them to Bavolsky. I know because you’re about to be indicted. The feds came to me. Told me your days are numbered. Even if you get out of here, you’re a walking dead man.”

  He squeezed her throat with his forearm until her raw face turned faintly purple.

  Then he loosened his hold. “Where. Is. My. Flash. Drive.”

  That was the moment when Rose changed her tactics. Her body went slack. She stopped fighting. She nodded.

  “Okay. I took the flash drive. I hid it.”

  He squeezed her throat and then released it again. “Where?”

  “Next door. The clinic. On the roof outside my doctor’s penthouse.”

  The answer infuriated him. “Why did you hide it there?”

  Her voice was raw. Barely a whisper. “Because no one would find it.”

  Rex bent closer to hear.

  Before Otto had a chance, Bramall used the momentary distraction as his chance to move.

  Rex caught the movement in his peripheral vision.

  He swept the gun toward Bramall and fired. Bramall went down. Blood bloomed on his torso.

  Jane screamed. She bent to help Bramall.

  Otto kept her eyes on Rex, waiting for her chance, but Rose made a very effective human shield.

  CHAPTER 44

  Sunday, February 13

  12:05 a.m.

  Guadalajara, Mexico

  Inside the elevator, Thorn and Scorpio stood apart, eyes straight ahead. The elevator was mirrored. They made eye contact only with their reflections.

  “What happened downstairs?” Scorpio asked.

  “When I came into the lobby, Mackenzie and Bramall were at the reception desk. They weren’t getting very far with the desk clerk, and Mackenzie was annoyed. Impatient. Bramall stepped in, calmed things down,” Thorn said.

  “Did you hear the conversation?”

  Thorn shook his head. “Only a few phrases. Mackenzie said something about his wife. The words surgery and recovery were mentioned a couple of times.”

  “What was your impression? Was he inquiring about surgery for his wife?”

  “It seemed like he thought she was registered here and the desk clerk wou
ldn’t confirm it,” Thorn replied.

  Scorpio nodded. He guarded his own privacy. He approved of closemouthed desk clerks.

  “Somehow, Bramall got the suite number. When they took the elevator, I slipped in with them. They pushed the button for the seventh floor, so I pushed eight. They got out on seven. I got out on eight and ran back down the stairs to seven just in time to see them going into 706.”

  Scorpio nodded again. “Did you see who was in the suite?”

  “No. But whoever it was, Mackenzie seemed surprised. He barreled inside and Bramall went after him. They closed the door, and I came down to find you.” Thorn finished just as the elevator stopped on the seventh floor.

  Scorpio stepped out and Thorn followed. They walked down the wide hallway to 706. Scorpio heard raised voices inside. He listened outside the door.

  He heard men and women talking but couldn’t make out the words. He didn’t recognize the voices. He’d never talked to Rex or Jane Mackenzie. But he’d had a couple of conversations with Bramall and Rose Sanderson.

  He gestured to Thorn. “Can you tell how many people are in there?”

  Thorn stood close to the door for a couple of minutes. He shrugged. “At least four. Two men and two women. Maybe more.”

  “Is one of them Reacher?” Scorpio asked.

  “I’ve never talked to him. But maybe. There seems to be a third male voice. It could be Reacher, I guess,” Thorn replied.

  “Who are the others?”

  “I can try to get that from the desk clerk, but I’m more likely to get escorted out the door by security.” Thorn pointed to the button by the door handle. “Or we could ring the bell and go inside. We keep hanging around, we’re likely to get reported by one of the other guests.”

  “I don’t want to be cooped up in that hotel room with six people. Especially if they’re armed,” Scorpio replied. “Let’s get them out here. Where we have room to move.”

  “How do you want to make that happen, boss?”