Cruel Vintage

by Huston Michaels

  “The problem, miss, is that there’s no paper plate,” Reid said, taking a step back and shining his flashlight in Lister’s face. “Step out, please.”

  Lister slid out.

  “Step around to the back of the truck,” Reid said, using the flashlight beam to point.

  Lister walked to the open space between the truck and the Charger. Without thinking, she automatically took the position where the spotlights would be in Reid’s eyes, not hers.

  Kaye hoped Reid wouldn’t notice.

  “No, you stand behind your truck and face me,” Reid said, taking her by the shoulder and guiding her. “You said you just moved,” Reid continued. “Is the address on your license current?”

  “Uh, no,” Lister said. “I’m sorry. I just haven’t had time yet. Don’t I have, like, thirty days or something?”

  “Ten days,” Reid said.

  “Crap,” Lister muttered. “Damn deadlines and commitments. Story of my life.”

  “Have you been drinking tonight?” Reid asked, again shining the light in Lister’s face. “Or doing any illegal or recreational drugs?”

  “No, sir.”

  Reid continued with the questions, most of which Kaye and Lister had anticipated: Where are you going? Where did you come from? Do you have any weapons on you? Anything in the truck you want to tell me about? Have you ever been arrested? A casual conversation disguised as an interrogation.

  While Reid quizzed Lister, Kaye saw headlights approaching from the west.

  If it was a back-up unit, things could get complicated, fast.

  It wasn’t. It was an older model crew cab dually pickup. As it slowed to pass by, the teenagers inside hung out the windows, hooting and hollering at Reid and Lister before speeding up again.

  “…and because you don’t have paperwork on the truck,” Kaye heard Reid say as the noise faded, “I’m going to search it.”

  “You can’t do that!” Lister protested. “Don’t you need a warrant or something?”

  “Are you an attorney?” Reid asked condescendingly. “You telling me how to do my job?”

  Kaye saw Reid step forward and grab Lister’s arm, steering her toward the passenger side back door of the Charger.

  “What the hell?” Lister half-screamed. “Are you arresting me? I didn’t do anything!”

  Reid yanked her to a stop and said, “No, but I’m responsible for you. I can’t have you wandering around out here in the dark and getting run over. It’s for your safety and mine.”

  Knowing Reid would be behind the spotlights, Kaye made himself as small as possible behind the bush. He couldn’t see very well, but he could still hear.

  “Put your hands on the car and lean forward,” Reid said.

  “Hey!” Lister shouted a few seconds later. “Keep your hands to yourself, dude. That’s over the line!”

  “In your dreams, sweetheart,” Reid said sarcastically as Kaye heard the sound of handcuffs ratcheting around Lister’s wrists. “Now, watch your head.”

  Kaye heard the Charger’s back door slam and peered around the bush to see Reid headed for the truck.

  It took the cop only a minute to conduct the search. When he walked back to the Charger he carried the envelope of cash in his hand. He dropped it through the unit’s open driver’s window, then walked to the back of the car and opened the trunk.

  Kaye’s angle was bad and he couldn’t see what Reid was doing.

  “Hey, it’s me,” Reid said a moment later. “I’ve got a prospect. One fifty-four, east side.”

  Silence for a few seconds.

  “Okay,” the cop said.

  Reid closed the trunk, walked back to the front of the Charger, put something down on the hood, then walked back and opened the back door.

  “Step out,” he said to Lister.

  “Am I free to go?” she asked as she stood up.

  “Afraid not,” Reid said as he grabbed Lister and spun her around, then pinned her against the side of the Charger. “You’re under arrest for possession of narcotics with intent to distribute.”

  “Narcotics?” Lister said. “Are you fucking crazy? I don’t deal drugs.”

  “Then you can explain to a judge why you had a kilo of heroin in the truck,” Reid said, “and six thousand dollars cash hidden under the floormat.”

  “Heroin?” Lister shouted. “That’s not mine! That money is to pay for music equipment when I get to San Francisco. That’s why I borrowed the truck. This is total bullshit!”

  “I’m also seizing the truck and the cash,” Reid said.

  “You can’t do this!” Lister screamed.

  Had it not been for the loose gravel, Kaye would have taken Reid without a struggle.

  But the crunch and bad traction betrayed him.

  Reid heard him coming when he was still ten feet away. The cop’s hand instantly went for his gun.

  Kaye saw the pistol clear leather and the muzzle start to come up.

  His left hand hit Reid’s forearm just as the gun went off and he felt the shockwave as the bullet went past. He found purchase on Reid’s wrist and yanked the cop down and forward.

  Another shot, and pieces of gravel scattered.

  Kaye grabbed the pistol with his right hand, reversed his momentum and drove his hands upward.

  Reid was overbalanced and had no chance of avoiding the blow.

  Kaye’s hands and the pistol hit the cop square in the face and he crumpled to the pavement without making a sound.

  “Holy shit, Kaye,” Lister muttered. “You weren’t supposed to kill him.”

  “If I wanted to kill him, he’d be dead,” Kaye said as he knelt down and felt a strong pulse in Reid’s neck. “Nice work, by the way.”

  “Thanks,” Lister said. “Just working for a living and taking care of business. Now, if you don’t mind, get these damn cuffs off me. I don’t care for them at all.”

  Kaye removed the cuffs.

  “What do we do now?” Lister asked, rubbing her wrists.

  Kaye looked around.

  “We’ve got to get off the highway before I can talk to our friend.”

  “He pulled out of a side road less than a half-mile back,” Lister said. “North side.”

  “I saw,” Kaye said. “I’ll drive the patrol car and we’ll leave it there. You follow in the truck and then I’ll take you back to your car.”

  “But I –” Lister started to protest.

  “No argument,” Kaye snapped. “Until now the only offense you’ve committed is a traffic violation. Dumb shit here wanted to keep you a secret, so he never even ran you or the truck VIN. You’re out of this.”

  “What about him?” Lister asked.

  Kaye smiled and said, “He’s with me.”

  “Did they ever status check him?”

  “Not that I heard,” Kaye said. “But he made a phone call while you were in the back seat. Called you a prospect.”

  “Miserable back stabber,” Lister said. “Total set up. But if they do status check and he doesn’t answer, they’ll be looking for him pretty soon.”

  “If they find his unit, it’ll be empty.”

  Lister turned and headed for the truck, stopped, picked up the bundle Reid had dropped on the hood and held it up.

  “Think this is really heroin?”

  “From what I’ve heard, they have a pretty reliable supply.”

  “Do you want this as evidence?”

  Kaye nodded. “Put it under the driver’s seat.”

  “Don’t forget your cash,” Lister reminded him.

  Kaye put on gloves and used Reid’s own cuffs to restrain the man. He found a Chief’s Special in an ankle holster. That, and Reid’s duty weapon, both went into the Charger’s trunk. There he found a riot cuff and used that to bind Reid’s ankles. The portable radio went in the front seat.

  Then he put the still-unconscious cop into the Charger’s back seat.

  Where Reid had been parked prior to the stop turned out to be an access road into p
rivate property. Lister was waiting for him when he got there and followed him, blacked out, all the way to the locked gate deep in the trees. Beyond the gate, rows of grape vines stretched away into the night.

  He hauled Reid, who was now regaining consciousness, from the Charger to the truck and put him on the floor in the back seat. He brought the envelope of cash and the portable radio, put the cash under the seat with the heroin, left the radio on the seat and signaled Lister to get out.

  He led her some distance from the truck.

  “No conversation on the way to your car,” he told her, keeping his voice low and handing her the keys.

  “Roger that,” Lister agreed.

  There was enough tree cover that Kaye was confident no one would find the black car in the dark.

  By daylight, it wouldn’t matter.

  ***

  Kaye dropped Lister at her car and watched her head eastbound until the Subaru’s lights disappeared. Then he found another dirt side road that wound into the hills south of the highway.

  He knew from Reid’s breathing that the cop had regained consciousness, but had not yet uttered a word.

  As Kaye drove deeper into the hills the portable police radio squawked.

  “CO-six, status check.”

  There was no response and Kaye wondered if Reid was CO-6.

  “CO-six, status check,” the dispatcher repeated. “Reid, what’s your status?”

  That answered that question.

  “CO-eight, Central.”

  “Go ahead Central.” It was a woman’s voice.

  “CO-eight, CO-six isn’t responding,” the dispatcher said. “Can you clear and check on him?”

  “Is he still out on one fifty-four?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “CO-eight’s in route.”

  Kaye grunted. At least somebody was paying attention.

  He found a dark, secluded spot in a dense grove of oaks and parked.

  “Get out,” he ordered Reid after opening the back door.

  Reid struggled to a sitting position and glared at Kaye, who saw blood on the cop’s face.

  “You broke my nose,” Reid said, his voice different, more nasal.

  “That’s the least of your problems. Get out.”

  “My feet are tied.”

  “You’ll manage,” Kaye said.

  “Fuck you.”

  Kaye reached in and grabbed a handful of Reid’s uniform shirt, lifted him out of the truck and dropped him.

  “Hey!” Reid shouted.

  “I asked nicely,” Kaye said. “That’s how this is going to work, Reid. I ask nicely, once. If you don’t answer, or I think you’re lying, I hurt you until I find out what I want to know.”

  “I don’t think so,” Reid said. “I know you’re a cop, Kaye. I’m not afraid of you. In fact, you’re the one who’s going to jail.”

  Kaye squatted down and locked eyes with Reid.

  “I don’t think you grasp the full implications of your predicament,” he said, his voice low and even. “I chose the bitch over the job.”

  Even in the dark, lessened only by the dim glow of the truck’s dome light, Kaye saw the first flicker of worry in Reid’s eyes before the man looked away.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Reid said. “I’m a cop and –”

  “You’re not a cop,” Kaye interrupted. “You work for Black Scimitar. You run phony drug interdiction for Gagnon and Renzo Maisano, and you probably get a cut of whatever you seize.”

  Reid avoided eye contact and said, “Go to hell.”

  “But that’s not why we’re having this little talk,” Kaye said. “I really only have one question. Answer it truthfully and we’ll talk about getting you out of this alive.”

  Reid stayed quiet.

  “Okay, I’ll just ask.” Kaye stood up and pushed the truck door closed, deepening the darkness, before squatting back down. “Don’t forget the rules, Reid. One chance. Ready?”

  Reid glared at Kaye but didn’t respond.

  “Where do you take the women?” Kaye asked.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Kaye sighed, reached behind Reid, grabbed the man’s left hand and began to squeeze. He heard Reid’s sharp intake of breath as he increased the pressure, but the cop said nothing.

  Five seconds later Kaye heard the sharp crack of breaking bone and released his grip.

  “You broke my hand!” Reid half-screamed. “You fucker, you broke my hand.”

  “Probably just a metacarpal,” Kaye said. “Easy fix. Want to answer the question now?”

  “Kaye, you’re crazy!”

  “Not crazy. Just very determined to find…what did you call her? My bitch? Oh, yeah, that was it. My bitch.”

  “I didn’t mean anything by that!” Reid shouted. “I was just trying to piss you off.”

  Kaye laughed and said, “Worked, didn’t it?”

  “Look, Kaye,” Reid said between gasps, “there’s gotta be a way we can work this out. I’ve got –”

  “You’ve got nothing I could possibly want,” Kaye said. “Except Auggie McMaster. I’ll ask one more time. If you try to bullshit me, I’ll leave your corpse out in the trees for the coyotes. Nobody will ever find you, Reid. Ever. Then I’ll keep working my way through your entire crooked department until someone tells me. And someone will. Might as well be you, right? So, one last time. Where do you take the women?”

  “Renzo or his crazy bitch will kill me,” Reid whispered, his breath ragged as he tried not to sob.

  Kaye laughed again.

  “I wouldn’t be worried about Maisano right now if I were you. You have more pressing problems. Answer the question or you’re coyote shit. Where do you take the women?”

  “You won’t do it,” Reid said, again all bluster. “You’re a cop. You won’t do it.”

  “Have it your way,” Kaye said as he stood up. He opened the back door of the truck again to get some light, then stepped around to Reid’s feet and started removing the trussed-up cop’s shoes.

  “What the fuck?” Reid asked, trying unsuccessfully to squirm out of Kaye’s iron grip.

  “Shut up,” Kaye said sharply. “I gave you your chance.”

  Kaye threw the shoes and socks into the back seat of the truck, then bent over and ripped Reid’s shirt open, rolled the man onto his stomach and peeled the shirt off. The sound of ripping fabric filled the darkness as Kaye tore the shirt to get it past the handcuffs.

  The ballistic vest came off next.

  He started unsnapping the keepers that held Reid’s gun belt to his trouser belt.

  “Okay! Okay!” Reid shouted. “We take them to Maisano’s house! He takes them and she pays me! I don’t know what happens after that, I swear to God! Let me go and I’ll tell you everything I know!”

  “How much do you get?”

  “Twenty-five grand.”

  “Each?”

  “Yeah, cash.”

  “Who else is in on this?” Kaye asked.

  “I don’t know,” Reid said. “She told me she’d kill me if she found out I talked to anyone else about it.”

  “How many women have you taken to Maisano?”

  Reid hesitated and Kaye ripped the gun belt from around the man’s waist.

  “Six!” Reid screamed. “Your friend was number six.”

  That number meant Reid wasn’t the only Black Scimitar contractor, maybe even Chumash Oaks PD regular cops, in on the kidnappings.

  “Why Auggie McMaster?” Kaye asked. “She didn’t fit the profile.”

  “She called me and told me to watch for your friend,” Reid said. “Told me it would give her leverage on you.”

  “Leverage on me? Why?”

  “She kept saying she wanted you to come to her. I told her I thought it was a bad idea. People would miss that chick. Come looking for her.”

  “You keep saying ‘she’ and ‘her’,” Kaye said. “Who is she?”

  “Goschen,”
Reid replied, barely whispering. “Maisano’s…I guess you could call her his girlfriend. She’s one crazy bitch.”

  “Crazy how?”

  “I mean bat shit crazy. Thinks she’s some kind of fucking ninja or something.”

  “Do you take the women directly to Maisano’s house?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is there a gate?”

  “Yeah,” Reid replied. “But there’s no way to get through it, and there are guards.”

  “Is there another way in?”

  “Not unless you can fly. Hey, if you’re thinking of trying to rescue your friend, forget it. There ain’t no way. Maybe FBI SWAT or a SEAL team, but they’d take heavy losses. Otherwise, no way.”

  “We’ll see,” Kaye said.

  “Okay,” Reid said. “I answered your question. Are you going to let me go?”

  “I never said I would let you go. I said I’d try and get you out of this alive.”

  Kaye picked Reid up and put him back onto the floor in the truck’s back seat, then stuffed the torn uniform shirt into his mouth to keep him quiet. Before he started back down to the highway he reaffixed the truck’s temporary paper license plate.

  Partway down, Reid’s portable radio squawked again.

  “Central, CO-eight.”

  “Go ahead, eight.”

  “I’ve been up and down one fifty-four. No sign of six. What did he give you when he made the stop?”

  The dispatcher read back the make, model and color of the truck, that it had no plates, and that the driver was female.

  “Did he run the driver?” Eight asked.

  “Negative.”

  “Ten-four,” CO-8 said. “Alert the Chief and surrounding agencies and put out a BOLO on the truck. I’ll keep looking.”

  ***

  A half-hour later Kaye pushed the buzzer outside the Solvang Sheriff’s substation.

  The same Lieutenant Barker was working, recognized Kaye and opened the door.

  “Good evening, Lieutenant,” Kaye said. “Would you hold the door for me?”

  Barker watched quizzically as Kaye went back to the truck, lifted Reid and the cop’s belongings out of the back seat, and walked back to the door.

  “This better be good,” Barker said as he stood out of the way, let Kaye pass and followed him in.