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Come Find Me

Page 12

by Casper Valentine


  "Calm down. I can get this worked out," she said into her phone.

  Nate was trying to analyze the conversation.

  "I'm sure it's already set up to be PCI compliant," Rosales said.

  Nate had no idea what they were talking about.

  "It should be handled by the payment gateway. I'll get it straightened out first thing in the morning," she said.

  "What was that all about?" Nate asked, when she disconnected the call.

  "One of their businesses got audited and they’re out of compliance. They have thirty days to get it fixed or they won't be able to accept credit cards." Rosales laid the phone down on the desk, scooted closer to Nate, and folded her legs underneath her.

  Nate gave a little laugh. "For that they called you, this late at night?"

  Rosales smiled. "They know I get shit done. That's why they like me."

  "I like you too," Nate said with a coy grin.

  "You do? How much do you like me, Nate?" Rosales asked.

  "This much," Nate said, stretching his arms out to the side as far as they could go.

  "I like you about this much," Rosales said, holding her thumb and index finger less than an inch apart.

  Nate rolled his eyes. "I think you like me a little more than that."

  "Maybe."

  Nate grabbed Rosales by the waist and pulled her closer. "I think you like me enough to kiss me."

  Rosales threw her leg over Nate. "Is that what you think?"

  "I do."

  "Maybe," she said, leaning forward and resting on her arms, her face inches from his.

  Nate put his hand softly to Rosales' cheek, she leaned in and their lips met. Her mouth was warm, smooth, and angel soft. Nate wanted to stay in the moment. He'd been craving her kiss, her touch, and could no longer push aside his feelings for Esperanza Rosales.

  They kissed deeper, as Nate wrapped his arms around her. He unbuttoned her bra and ran his fingertips slowly down her back.

  “I want you,” Rosales whispered as Nate’s strong hands caressed her hips.

  As they made love, for the first time in weeks, Nate's mind was free of Ruby's abduction, and of drug-running Armenians.

  Then, it was over, and his thoughts returned to grim reality.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  October 14, 2015

  The black Mercedes-Benz pulled up to a wrought-iron gate. Nate and Arik watched from the backseat as the driver rolled down his window and pushed the button on a call box.

  The driver waved at a mounted security camera, and the gate swung open. Nate looked on as they were driven toward a giant house, tucked amongst rolling hills and scattered oaks.

  When the Mercedes came to a stop in a circular cobblestone drive, Nate and Arik got out. Nate looked up at the steeply pitched roofs and high stucco walls that were illuminated by the bright full moon. He thought the house should have belonged to a lawyer or surgeon as they strolled toward the round tower entryway, hiding behind rustic arches.

  Arik rang the doorbell while Nate fastened the second to the top button on his crisp white shirt and smoothed his dark sportscoat.

  A burly man in a cheap suit that smelled like cigars answered the door, and immediately patted the two men down. Satisfied they weren't wired or carrying a weapon, he stepped aside so they could enter.

  The light from dangling crystal chandeliers was turned down low, and the heavy velvet drapes covering the windows gave the interior of the home an intimate feel, despite the huge vaulted ceilings and ornate wooden staircase.

  Nate followed Arik through the home. Men drinking whiskey were cozied up next to scantily clad women in miniskirts and heels, their conversations covered by the avant-garde Jazz playing from hidden speakers.

  "Bourbon or scotch?" Arik asked, as he made his way to a table of beverages and filled a short tumbler with ice.

  "Bourbon, neat," Nate replied.

  After Arik handed Nate a drink, a man with a dark beard, bearing a strong resemblance to Arik, approached and held his arms out toward him, gesturing for a hug. "Brother, it's good to see you," he said.

  Arik gave his brother an embrace. "It's good to see you too, Malek."

  Malek turned toward Nate. "This must be our new partner you've been telling me about."

  Nate stuck his arm out and gave Malek a handshake. "Most folks call me the Irishman."

  "You don't look or sound very Irish," Malik replied.

  Arik patted his brother on the back. "He's from the States but tells me his grandfather is from Ireland."

  Malek raised an eyebrow.

  Nate could see the confusion on his face. "I took over running the family business. My father ran the US side of things, while my granddad stayed overseas. That's why they started calling me the Irishman. It's something that just sort of stuck and followed me around.”

  Malek smiled. "I see. Business is business, and Arik tells me we are going to do a lot of that together."

  "I hope so," Nate said.

  Malek poured himself a drink. "You have a plan, I presume?"

  Nate sipped his drink. "Of course. You have a very nice home."

  "All this from nothing. Hard work and perseverance paying off," Malek said.

  "We come from a very poor family," Arik added.

  "Follow me. First, we talk work, then we have pleasure. Plenty of women here to go around," Malik said, and gave a wink.

  Nate and Arik followed him to an executive-style office with craft woodwork, and a cocobolo desk.

  "Have a seat," Malek said, gesturing toward a couple of big leather chairs.

  Nate and Arik sat down. Nate kicked back and crossed a leg, trying to appear calm and collected. His mind raced, and he fought to control his breathing.

  "I need to know all of your associates," Malek asked.

  "I've cut all ties with the Dixie Mafia. Right now, it's all me," Nate replied.

  Malek studied his face. "And your clientele?"

  Nate was prepared for questions, and had answers ready. “All major suppliers throughout rural Kentucky. Corbin, Hazzard and the likes."

  "They go through that much H down there?" Malek asked.

  "It used to be meth. Then oxy. Now, this stuff is new to them. They can't get enough of it," Nate told him, praying the two men were buying his story.

  "Payment will not be a problem?" Malek asked.

  "Not at all," Nate said.

  Malek smiled and spoke carefully. "I'd like to kill two birds with one stone. I'll have a delivery truck ready for you. I will require you to make a pickup at our distribution facility. Deliver half of the goods to Arik's bar, and the other half will be yours.”

  "Your facility close?" Nate asked.

  "Yes. It's along the river. There used to be a coal company where barges would come in. It's a secluded building that serves us well and we can get there by truck or boat."

  "Just provide me with the details and I'll make the pickup," Nate said, careful not to let his excitement show.

  Arik smiled. "See, brother. I told you this would work out."

  Malek stood. "Enough business talk, for now. I have a party I need to get back to and it looks like you two need a refill."

  Arik nodded and rose from his seat. "I'll make sure our friend gets acquainted with some of the ladies.”

  Nate got up and followed Malek and Arik back to the party. Arik filled their glasses, while Malek started mingling with other guests.

  "Does he have these parties often?" Nate asked.

  "Yes, he likes to take care of his associates."

  Nate glanced around the room. "There's definitely a lot of beautiful ladies here."

  Arik gestured for Nate to go mingle. "Go now, enjoy yourself and find one you like."

  Nate nodded, and took a sip of his beverage as he strolled around the large home. Everyone seemed occupied with laughter and conversation; nobody was paying attention to him as he looked on.

  After a few friendly nods, and a couple more sips of whiskey, Nate went back i
nto the main foyer. A scantily clad blonde woman was sitting on the bottom step of the decorative staircase, staring at the ground; noticeable tears were swelling deep in her piercing eyes.

  "Something wrong?" Nate asked.

  She looked up and forced a smile. "No, of course not."

  Nate watched the woman turn away, and bite her fingernail. "Can I get you a drink?" he asked.

  "Sure, if that's what you want. I'd love to have a drink with you."

  Nate shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. Is everything OK?"

  The blonde woman glanced up the stairs and then back to Nate. "Everything is fine. What's your name?"

  "Irishman."

  She giggled and stood up. "Are you sure you don't want me to have a drink with you, Irishman?"

  "Not right now."

  She gave a him a coy wink. "I hope you change your mind," she said as she walked away.

  When she left the room, Nate made his way up the stairs. On the second floor, most of the doors were shut, but near the end of a hallway one was ajar.

  Pushing the door open, he thought the woman on the bed was dead, until he heard a low gurgled moan. She was bleeding from her nose and mouth, her left eye was swollen shut, and her slinky black dress was tattered.

  "Jesus. Who did this to you?" Nate asked as he knelt next to the bed.

  "I'm fine," the woman said, and started to sit up.

  Nate stopped her. "I want to help you. Who did this?"

  "He just likes to play rough," she said.

  "Who? Someone from the party?"

  "No."

  "Who was it then?"

  "You should get out of here in case he comes back."

  "In case who comes back?" Nate asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

  "Animal. Damn, you ask a lot of questions. Can you hand me my water?" she asked, pointing to a bottle on the nightstand.

  Nate handed her the bottle of water and watched her take a gulp. "What's your name?"

  "Lola."

  "Lola, I'm not like the rest of the guys here, please tell me who Animal is?"

  "He's in charge of us girls."

  "A pimp?"

  "He sets up jobs for us. Jobs that pay really, really well. He does other things too."

  "Other things?"

  "I don't know. Just things for the Armenian brothers. Are you a cop?"

  Nate answered quickly. "No. I just don't like to see women treated this way."

  Lola smiled; she looked pathetic, with her bloody lip and swollen eye. "I bet you have sisters."

  "Just one. What does Animal look like? Describe him."

  Lola sat up, wincing in pain. "He has these little eyes, and kind of a pointed face."

  "Sounds handsome."

  "Let's just say Animal is a fitting nickname."

  Nate wanted to ask more questions but knew better. He took the water bottle from Lola and set it on the nightstand. "I can get you out of here."

  Lola scooted to the edge of the bed. "I can get out of here on my own."

  "I can take you somewhere safe."

  "Look, I appreciate the kindness, but this isn't my first rodeo."

  "Yeah, I suppose not," Nate replied.

  Lola grabbed her high heels from next to the bed. "It was nice talking to you."

  "Yeah, you too. Try to take care of yourself," Nate said, as he left the room and shut the door behind him.

  Malek met Nate at the bottom of the grand staircase. "I see you've been enjoying some of our female companions."

  "This is my kind of party," Nate said, with a coy smile.

  Malek pulled a fat, hand-rolled cigar from his sports coat, and with a nonchalant panache, poked it into the corner of his mouth. "Can I offer you something besides booze? Uppers, downers, what's your pleasure?"

  "No thank you," Nate said, against his better judgment.

  Malek frowned. "It's not polite to turn down a host."

  "You're right, I'm sorry. What about blow?"

  Malek removed the cigar from his mouth and smiled. "Of course."

  Nate followed Malek back to the main room. They snorted a few lines of cocaine, then moved on to more booze. That was the last thing Nate could remember clearly.

  TWENTY-SIX

  October 15, 2015

  Nate's head was pounding, and his mouth was so dry his tongue was starting to stick to his teeth. He popped a tic-tac and stepped through the sliding glass door, and for a quick moment he thought he was in the wrong room. Boniva was so pale, she nearly matched the hospital bedsheets. At her side, a nurse was jotting onto a chart.

  Nate frowned. "Why is she restrained?"

  The nurse looked up from her paperwork. "She was very restless and demanding to be released. She's heavily sedated now."

  Nate put a hand on Boniva's cheek; she felt cold and clammy. "I can get an officer to stay here in case she gets unruly. I don't want her tied up."

  "What's your relationship with Boniva?"

  "Friend. Very close friend."

  "Are you Nate?"

  "Yes."

  The nurse smiled. "She's been saying your name. She said you were going to take her to Olive Garden."

  Nate brushed a strand of Boniva's hair away from her eye. "She loves their breadsticks."

  "She should recover and be back to herself pretty quick. Someone will need to watch her close, to make sure she doesn't try this again," the nurse said.

  Nate felt a pinch of relief, but his problems were layered thick. "Good to hear."

  "She'll be out for a while. If you want to go home, I can call you when she wakes."

  Nate looked up at the nurse. "I appreciate that."

  "It's close to shift change, but I promise everyone will take good care of her."

  Nate was wondering how anyone could possibly have any control over Boniva when his phone rang.

  It was Sarge. "Where you at, Nate?"

  "Checking up on Boniva."

  "How is she?"

  "They had to knock her out and tie her down, but they said she should make a full recovery."

  "Good. We need to talk about your heroin pickup. We scoped out the area and found a place to post up nearby."

  "They’ll be keeping a close watch on everything," Nate said.

  "We'll make sure they don't pick up on us."

  "Hold on, I can't really talk now. Call me when she wakes," he said and smiled at the nurse before he slipped though the sliding glass door, just as another nurse entered the room.

  "Where are you heading now?" Sarge asked.

  "I got a lead from Nina's mother. I want to talk to the guy that owns an adult novelty shop near Arik's bar."

  Sarge spoke so loud, Nate pulled the phone back from his ear. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Nate. Poking around and asking questions in there could blow your cover. Give me the details and I'll send Scarecrow over."

  "I suppose you're right," Nate said. He gave Sarge the details as he made his way out of the hospital.

  •••

  Scarecrow was in the black unmarked, driving along the former empty storefronts turned trendy lounges. He parked in front of a liquor store, next to a small brick building with a flashing neon sign that read Adult Novelties.

  When he got out, he could see a couple of kids smoking in the alleyway between the two buildings. "Your mamas know you smoke?" he asked and stuck a grape lollipop in his mouth.

  "Fuck you," one of the boys yelled.

  Scarecrow laughed and strolled into the adult novelty shop.

  "Just got some new Blu-ray's in," Animal said, when Scarecrow walked in.

  "Got any of the Jenna Jameson classic stuff?" Scarecrow asked.

  "Sure, I got all of 'em."

  "I notice you took the blow-up doll out of your window," Scarecrow said.

  Animal curled his lip. "Damn uppity women complained too much. The area's changed since they put in all these new places."

  "I would think new places would be good for business."

  "
They come and look around, but never buy anything."

  "You know any of the girls that work around here?" Scarecrow asked, looking at a display of new release Blu-rays, trying to seem more interested in the movies than the conversation.

  "I don't know any of them around here. What makes you ask? Are you looking for a date?"

  Scarecrow shook his head. "I bet all the girls around here are too young for me."

  Animal laughed, high pitched, like a wounded hyena. "Oh, you like the older play dolls."

  "Play dolls?"

  "That's just what I like to call them."

  "I bet you've charmed some of the young ladies around here," Scarecrow said, trying to remain serious despite his ridiculous statement.

  "I've had my share of ladies, but none of them from here."

  "Where you from? Uhm, you got a name?"

  "I go by several names. William, Billy, most people call me Animal. You can call me whatever you want. I live north of here. The classics you're looking for are on the back shelf."

  "Did you hear about that local girl that went missing?" Scarecrow asked, looking up at Animal, trying to read his reaction.

  "I don't know. Girls go missing all the time. You going to buy anything or not?"

  "I think I'm gonna pass this time, partner. I'm new to the area and just wanted to check the place out."

  "I got the best prices in town."

  "I'll stop back in a few days, when I get my paycheck."

  Animal nodded and turned around.

  Scarecrow left the store and pulled his cell phone out of his coat. "Hey, Nate. That shop owner is one strange motherfucker," he said when Nate answered.

  "Do you think he knew Nina?" Nate asked.

  "I don't know. He said his real name is William, so I'm going to do some research and find out who this prick is."

  "Keep me posted."

  "I will, Nate. Good luck with the pickup. Stay focused."

  "I got this. We're going to bring them all down," Nate said over the line.

  Scarecrow disconnected the call and shoved his cell phone into his pocket. He waved at the young teens still smoking and got into the black unmarked.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  October 17, 2015

  After adding a splash of whiskey to a blend of French roast, Nate was rolling the sixteen-foot cargo truck along the spine of Cincinnati's west side. He drove past the Parish of Saint Peter's, the biggest church he'd ever seen, and then past the fenced-in public school; it looked more like a prison.

 

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