Bullet From Dominic

by Giammatteo, Giacomo

  “That may be on paper, señor, but the authorities know who you are.”

  “Knowing who I am and being able to do something about it are quite different things.” Carlos blew a few more smoke rings, and then he said, “We may have need of El Terrible on this trip.”

  Tico raised his eyes, brow wrinkling. “El Terrible? Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Make the call.”

  “We have more to discuss,” Tico said as Carlos stood.

  “What?”

  “Transportation for the new product. Pricing, and what the dealers will get. And the Chef had questions about the formula—”

  “We will discuss all of that on the way,” Carlos said as he walked toward the door. “Gather the men and make the call. It’s a long drive to Houston.”

  While Tico made plans to depart, Carlos said goodbye to Adalia and Julio, and his wife, Marianna.

  “How long will you be gone this time?” Marianna asked.

  “It depends on how quickly the lawyers prepare the papers. It takes time to arrange this much financing.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder. “Hurry back.”

  “I will think of you every night,” Carlos said, and kissed her softly.

  Tico was waiting on the patio when Carlos returned. “Our people in Laredo think we should fly.”

  “And what do you think?” Carlos asked.

  “With the situation in Nuevo Laredo…I agree; we should fly.”

  Carlos nodded. “That situation is under control, though? We are making progress?”

  “Si, señor.”

  “Good. We cannot afford to lose control. Nuevo Laredo is the busiest border crossing for trucks.”

  “Si, señor. We know.”

  Carlos fixed him with a hard look. “I know you know that, Tico. I’m reminding you. Whoever controls Nuevo Laredo makes a lot of money. Texas is home to six of the top twenty cities in population. That’s a lot of product, my friend.”

  Roberto brought the car to the gate. Chaparrito got out and opened the door for Carlos. “Buenos días, señor.”

  “English, Chappo. Practice your English.”

  “Good morning, Señor Carlos,” Chappo said in a thick accent.

  “Much better,” Carlos said. “Keep practicing.”

  Roberto drove the speed limit all the way to the airport, something Carlos insisted on. Tico and Chappo rode in the back. Carlos sat in the passenger seat and glanced through the rearview mirror at Tico. “What’s the latest with the Houston situation.”

  “Coming along,” Tico said. “San Antonio and Austin are good. The Dominicans are giving us trouble in Dallas.”

  Carlos leaned to his left and turned to face Tico. He wore a smile. “You already told me about San Antonio and Austin. And I know about the Dominicans in Dallas. I asked about Houston.”

  “After we lost control, many small gangs moved in. It has been more difficult than we thought to regain that territory.”

  Carlos lost his smile. “Is the new distribution not going well?”

  “Si, señor, it is. But we have more than distribution problems in Houston. The new product needs protection.”

  “Do we still have friends in the department?” Carlos asked.

  “Si.”

  “Use them. Tighten the grip. And find more cops who are vulnerable. Before this is over, we’ll need a lot more.”

  Chapter 3

  A Rectal Affair

  Houston, Texas

  Forrest Lipscomb finished typing an email to his partner in the law firm, straightened the papers on his desk, and grabbed his suit jacket from the coatrack behind the door. He loosened the knot on his baby-blue Kiton tie as he closed the door to his office.

  “Goodnight, Mr. Lipscomb,” Gretchen said, as he passed her station. “Have a good evening.”

  “Thank you. It will be a short one.” Odd that Gretchen worked so late. She was too old for affairs. Not even his partners would stoop that low, except maybe Griffin. Lipscomb almost laughed at the thought of her with Griffin, but he chased the image away and punched the button to call the elevator. He had more important things to consider—like whether he should go to his apartment and work, or go to the bar and find a willing, nubile partner.

  The elevator door opened. Lipscomb got in and rode it down, nonstop, for twenty-five floors. He walked outside and dialed his wife while a parking attendant went for his car.

  “What is it, Forrest?” Her voice betrayed her breach of sobriety.

  “I was just checking on you, dear. Are you all right?”

  “And if I’m not? Will you rush home to care for me?” Her laughter answered her own question. “Go ahead and screw someone. I won’t mind.” A short pause, then, “That is why you’re calling isn’t it? To make sure I’m here, and to ease your conscience?”

  Lipscomb closed his eyes and sighed. “I was calling to say goodnight.”

  “Now you’ve said it. Please resist the urge to call me after your romp. I’ll be asleep.”

  The line went dead, and he wished for the millionth time that Margaret had gone with it.

  Lipscomb drove down Texas Avenue to a jazz bar he frequented. He hated jazz, but it drew the right kind of women—the young, horny ones looking for a more mature companion, preferably one with money. It also drew some of the over-the-hill hard-drinking, chain-smoking women, but he didn’t care about those. Once a woman hit her early twenties, her skin started down the inevitable road to wrinkling. It was all bad news after that.

  Lipscomb pulled to the curb in front of the club and had an attendant park the car. Then he went inside, straightening his collar as he tipped the doorman.

  A blaring sound from a trumpet sent a shiver up his spine. It reminded him of Margaret’s whining, nagging voice. He prayed he found a girl quickly, as he didn’t know if he could take a whole night of this noise.

  “Good evening, sir. Would you like a table?”

  Lipscomb shook his head, never bothering to make eye contact. “I’ll sit at the bar.” He should have added Like I always do, but kept that thought to himself and made his way across the room.

  The bar seated about twenty people, and five spots were open toward the right side. He took the third seat from the end, next to a half-full strawberry daiquiri with a straw peeking over the rim.

  Has to belong to a woman.

  He ordered a glass of pinot noir and waited. Before long, a woman plopped onto the seat in front of the drink. Her perfume carried the sweet smell of lilacs. She set her purse on the bar, took a sip of the drink, then looked at her cell phone as if it would speak to her.

  Someone stood her up. Perfect! And she was exactly Forrest’s type—perfectly tanned, with a smooth complexion and short, dark hair. And most important of all—she was young.

  She punched a text out into her phone then held it in her left hand. After a few minutes—and numerous glances at the screen—she set the phone down, put her gorgeous lips around the straw, and sucked the last of the daiquiri from her glass. A nod of her head signaled the bartender for a refill.

  Better and better. Lipscomb cast a sideways glance at her legs. When she shifted in her seat, the skirt rode up toward her ass. He quickly shifted his gaze, not wanting to be caught staring. The last thing a woman wanted was to be ogled, or so they said. They should think of that before undoing the top three buttons of their blouses. He risked another glance at her tits and smiled.

  Lipscomb eyed her for more than half an hour, nursing his own drinks while she put down two more. She checked her phone one more time, then stuffed it into her purse with a finality that said she’d given up. Lipscomb hadn’t made a move, and she looked ready to leave.

  The bartender was in front of her. Lipscomb saw his chance. “Give me one more glass before I go. Looks like she’s not showing.”

  “You got it,” the bartender said.

  Lipscomb focused on not looking directly at the woman, not wanting her to see his desperation. She placed a few bills on
the counter and turned in his direction.

  “Me, too,” she said.

  Lipscomb hid his smile, twisted in his seat and stared at her, as if seeing her for the first time. “Pardon me?”

  “I said, ‘Me, too.’ I heard you say someone didn’t show. I was waiting for someone who didn’t show.”

  Lipscomb shook his head. “Guess it’s a bad night all the way around.”

  “Guess so,” she said, and started to leave. She stopped a few feet away. “Shit!”

  “What’s the matter?” Lipscomb asked.

  She turned to the bartender. “Can you call me a cab? I just realized I don’t have a car here.”

  Lipscomb couldn’t believe his luck. “I’m leaving in a minute. If you need a ride, I can drop you off.”

  She looked at him, perhaps sizing him up. “I don’t know…” Just then her phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and answered.

  “Andy, where the hell are you? I’ve been waiting forever.” She turned away from Lipscomb and whispered into the phone, “I almost had to catch a ride from a stranger. No, a guy I met.” She laughed, then, “Yes, Andy, he’s cute.” More laughter. “No way.” Then she turned to Lipscomb. “My friend wants to know…” She broke into embarrassed laughter and put the phone to her ear again. “No way am I asking that.”

  Lipscomb shook his head and started to leave, but she grabbed his arm. “Wait.” She giggled again, then, “My friend wants to know if you like threesomes.”

  Lipscomb kept his smile, but inside he was seething. Just his damn luck. “No thanks. Maybe another time.”

  She smiled at him and struck a sexy pose. “Two of us too much to handle?”

  “Not that,” Forrest said. “I’m not into guys.”

  She grabbed Forrest’s hand. “Andy is short for Andrea. And trust me, she’s definitely not a guy.”

  Lipscomb’s genuine smile returned. “In that case…”

  She held out her hand. “I’m Sahrina.”

  He shook her hand. “Forrest Lipscomb.”

  “Forrest? I like that name.” She looked at him for a moment then said, “Do you dance? There’s a club not far from here.”

  The question took him by surprise. “I…uh…”

  “Oh, the hell with it.” Sahrina leaned close and whispered, “Do you want to just cut straight to the night of wild sex?”

  Lipscomb almost fell down. “Yes,” he said. “A lot more than dancing.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills to pay the tab.

  “There’s a hotel a few blocks from here,” she said. “I’ll have Andy meet us there.”

  Lipscomb went back and laid a fifty on the bar, then walked with her to the door. “Hotel it is,” he said, and handed his parking stub to an attendant.

  Ten minutes later, they arrived at the Four Seasons Hotel. “There she is,” Sahrina said to Forrest.

  She approached a blonde waiting outside the entrance. “Andy, I can’t believe you’re here already.”

  Andy hugged her. “I was only a couple of minutes away when I called.”

  Sahrina took her hand and turned toward Forrest. “This is my friend, Andy. Andy, this is Forrest Lipscomb.”

  Lipscomb couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She wasn’t his type, but she was sexy. “Nice to meet you, Andy.”

  “Same here,” she said, then she held up a small brown bag with a recognizable red label.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Sahrina asked.

  “Bacardi 151,” Andy said. “We may be staying the night.”

  Sahrina laughed and said, “Why don’t you two check in? I have got to run to the bathroom.”

  ***

  Sahrina made sure to steer clear of the surveillance as she made her way to the ladies’ room. She pushed the bathroom door open with her foot, glanced around to make sure no one was inside, then set her purse on the counter and unzipped a side compartment. Inside lay two vials. Each one contained 200 milligrams of sildenafil, enough to keep Mr. Lipscomb stiff for a long time. In the second compartment were enough poppers to get him started.

  For backup, a syringe lay tucked into the back, wrapped in a small leather pouch. She pulled it out and checked it, holding it up to the light, then withdrew 20 milliliters of potassium chloride. She didn’t want to use it, but if necessary, she would. After replacing the cap on the syringe, she put it back inside the leather pouch and set it inside the compartment of her purse. Then she waited.

  Within a few minutes, the door cracked open and Andy popped her head in. “We’re ready.”

  Andy grabbed hold of one of Forrest’s arms and led him to the elevator. Sahrina made certain to position herself behind them, staying clear of the cameras.

  Thirty minutes later, Lipscomb and Andrea had showered and were lying on the bed, naked.

  Sahrina reached into her purse and tossed a few poppers to Andy. “Let the fun begin,” she said. “I’m taking a shower, so start without me.”

  “What are those?” Lipscomb asked.

  “Just a few poppers,” Andy said. “You’ve never used them?”

  “Is it a drug? What does it do?”

  Andy laughed. “No way. I don’t do drugs. This is more like Viagra, but for both of us.” She reached between his legs and rubbed. “Don’t worry. In a few minutes, you’ll be a super stud.”

  They inhaled the poppers, and then Lipscomb started kissing her back. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this night, but if I find out, I’ll make sure to do it again.”

  “When you’re done, I’ll let you know if I feel the same way.”

  “I guarantee satisfaction,” Lipscomb said.

  Andy turned her head and looked at him. “Then you’d better stop kissing my back, and start kissing my ass.”

  ***

  After Lipscomb satisfied her, Andy worked him hard. Three times, she brought him close to climaxing then eased off. The fourth time she let him explode.

  Panting, Lipscomb rolled to the side. “Good God, you almost killed me.”

  “Almost?” Andrea let her hand slide down his stomach. She fondled him. “I must be losing my touch.”

  “Room for one more?” Sahrina asked.

  “Plenty of room,” Lipscomb said, “but I’ll need some time.”

  Sahrina handed a glass to Andy and another to Lipscomb. “I poured us all a refresher,” she said and downed her own drink. Andy and Lipscomb followed suit.

  “Damn! That’s strong,” Lipscomb said, shaking his head.

  “Who wants another?” Sahrina asked.

  “Not yet,” Andy said. “Maybe after Forrest finishes what he promised to do.” She reached over to rub him. “I hope you’re not worn out.”

  “Not by a long shot,” he said.

  After a few minutes, Forrest slowed down, and then he did stop.

  “What’s wrong?” Andy asked.

  “I feel dizzy,” he said. “Very dizzy.”

  “Maybe you should stop,” Andy said.

  Forrest sat on the edge of the bed, breathing quickly.

  Andy sat beside him. “Are you okay?”

  He put his hand to his chest. “I’m not sure. I feel kind of strange.”

  “It might have been the popper,” Sahrina said, and she handed him a glass of rum. “Take a drink. It will help.”

  “You sure?” Lipscomb asked.

  She nodded. “I’ve seen it before. Take a few sips and see if it helps.”

  He seemed reluctant, but then he took one sip, and then another. And then he dropped the glass. “Goddamn!” he said, and fell to the floor, holding his chest and gasping for breath.

  Andy knelt beside him. “Are you okay?” she asked, and then looked up at Sahrina. “Call 9-1-1. Hurry!”

  Sahrina got on the floor next to him and felt for a pulse. Lipscomb appeared to have stopped breathing. “He’s gone,” she said. Her tone carried a ring of finality.

  Andy listened for a heartbeat. “We don’t know that. Hurry up and call.”

 
; “I think he had a heart attack,” Sahrina said.

  “Oh my God. What did you give him?”

  “Just a little Viagra.”

  Andy started for the phone, but Sahrina stopped her. “Don’t. We could be in trouble.”

  “We didn’t do anything. We—”

  Sahrina grabbed and shook her friend. “Didn’t do anything? We’re prostitutes, and we gave him Viagra. And now he’s dead.”

  Andy grabbed her clothes and started dressing. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Not before cleaning up,” Sahrina said. She handed Andy a washcloth. “Wipe everything down out here. I’ll get the glasses and the bathroom. Empty his pockets and take his wallet.”

  Andy rifled through his pants. He had a few hundred in cash and a half a dozen credit cards in his wallet.

  “On second thought, leave the wallet,” Sahrina said. “We need to get out of here.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” Andy said.

  “Get hold of yourself. You go down first. I’ll follow. Wait for me in the car.”

  Sahrina waited for her to leave, then wiped down the bathroom. She left a few spots where she knew Andy’s prints would be—the light switch and the counter in the bathroom. Afterward, she put on a blonde wig and sunglasses. Sahrina wiped the doorknob, took a final look at the room, making sure she didn’t forget anything, then turned the “Do Not Disturb” sign facing out. No sense in having him discovered too early. She rode the elevator down and waited until she saw a man in a suit leaving the hotel. She stepped behind him and walked out the door, careful to avoid cameras.

  Andy was already sitting in the car, shaking. “What are we going to do?”

  “You’ll have to clean out your apartment. Get everything you need for at least a week, because you’ll be staying with me for a while. At least until this blows over. Get your clothes, money, anything you would take on a trip. And don’t tell anyone. Just pack up and leave.”

  Chapter 4

  A Friendly Visit

  Houston, Texas

  Tip finished his cereal, strained the teabags, and added a spoonful of sugar to his cup of tea. Some mornings he had coffee, but on days like today, when he had serious thinking to do, he preferred tea. Flash nudged his leg and gave Tip a few of her mandatory good-morning barks, and then Sacco, the new dog, joined in. His bark was deeper, but he only barked once.