by Nolon King
Instead, he called Spider and had her track Cadillac’s location, figuring he wasn’t about to head back to his girlfriend’s house until he knew more about the stranger wanting to hire him. For all he knew, the cops were onto him, so Cadillac would find someplace to lay low until after the meet.
Fortunately, that meant a squat one-story fleabag motel not too far from his girlfriend’s place, just off the highway.
The Breezy Motor Lodge wasn’t yet exclusively a den of drugs and prostitution, but it was barely hanging on in the battle against time and decay. Chipped paint, a crumbling parking lot, and lights in its sign that would never be fixed all signaled the end as nigh.
A sign on a fence announced the pool was closed and management was “sorry for the inconvenience.” But if Jasper was a betting man, he’d wager his house or more that the pool hadn’t seen service in a year or longer.
He drove through the parking lot, looking for Cadillac’s car. Spider had given him the make and model, a brand new black Mercedes-Benz CLS, easily the nicest car that would be in this place. He passed a big rig and its trailer, then a few campers as he made his way through the lot. Finally found Cadillac’s Mercedes parked at the far end, in front of the farthest block of rooms in the corner of the L-shaped motel.
He wondered if Cadillac would park in front of or away from his room. Likely the latter as a matter of precaution, so he could be in any of the L’s corner quarters.
Jasper parked to the left of Cadillac’s car, so close that he hit the Mercedes hard enough to trigger the alarm. He hunched over, making himself appear as old as possible, squinting at Cadillac’s car, then around at the rooms, looking lost.
One of the doors burst open, and Cadillac came running out in sweat pants and a tee shirt, his face twisted in anger. “What the fuck?”
The man was a house. Jasper hoped he’d never have to fight him. Cadillac pressed his key fob to silence the alarm.
“Sorry,” Jasper said in his best frail, old man’s voice as Cadillac drew closer, focused on the damage to his car.
Cadillac glared at him, then bent to inspect the dent in his door. “You know how much this shit is gonna c—”
Jasper pressed the pistol into Cadillac’s back. “Walk slowly back to your room. We need to talk. Do anything stupid, and I put you down right here. You understand?”
Cadillac swallowed, nodded, not turning back to see the old man with the suddenly young voice who had clearly outsmarted him.
They walked to his room, Jasper keeping the gun just out of sight.
He ordered Cadillac to sit on the bed. Jordyn entered the room behind him, wearing a pink and purple ski mask pulled low over her face. Jasper closed the door.
Cadillac was staring right at him. “You John Dennings?”
“I’m the one asking questions. You’re the one answering. Understand?”
Cadillac said nothing, glaring at Jasper.
He aimed his pistol so that Cadillac could appreciate the suppressor. “I need to repeat myself?”
Cadillac nodded his head.
“Good. Where did you take Jessi Price?”
Cadillac’s eyes widened. He started to stand.
Jasper fired into his left foot.
Cadillac fell back to the bed, crying out as he looked down to survey the damage.
“Quiet! I didn’t hit anything critical. But the next one goes into your gut, heart, or head.”
Cadillac clenched his fists, gritting his teeth through the pain.
“Where did you take Jessi Price?”
“You a cop?”
Jasper laughed. “What do you think?”
“Why you looking for her?”
“I might ask why the hell you’re kidnapping kids. Seems a bit of a reach, even for a low-level enforcer such as yourself.”
Calling him by his real name had almost the same effect as mentioning Jessi. His eyes narrowed in on Jasper, realizing that he was well and truly fucked. “What the hell you know about me?”
“I know you’re not a kidnapper. You used to be a good guy, despite working for Lil’ Tony. And you’d hate for Curtis Johnson to find out where you’ve run off to.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to know where you took Jessi.”
“You ain’t gonna get her back.”
“Why not?” Jasper asked, fearing that she was already dead.
“She’s not here.”
“Where is she?”
“Mexico.”
“What?”
“Listen, man, I don’t know all the details. I got hired to get and deliver her. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I don’t think you understand how this works. I ask questions, you give me all the answers.”
“I tell you everything, and I’m good as dead.”
“You think you’re walking out of here if you don’t?”
Cadillac squeezed his eyes tight. Jasper wasn’t sure if he was going to break down and cry, or if he was trying to get through the pain. “I didn’t want to take that girl. I didn’t have no choice.”
“Why?”
“You don’t know these people. They’re powerful. They threatened to reach out to Curtis if I didn’t do the job. They threatened Keisha and the kids.”
“Who are they?”
Cadillac shook his head. “Nope. You may as well just shoot me.”
“What if I could help you?”
Cadillac laughed. “Help me what?”
“Get out from under them?”
“How you gonna do that? You got an army?”
Jasper reached into his coat, peeled off one of the plastic-wrapped sheets of money he’d buried in a large hidden pocket, and threw it at Cadillac.
“There’s a hundred grand there. All legit. And another hundred-fifty waiting for you after I get the girl back. I’ll get new IDs for you, your girl, and the kids. You can go away and start over. Again.”
Cadillac stared at the money, then at Jasper. “Who the hell are you?”
“A friend of Lenny Barnes. He vouches for you doing the right thing.”
“Lenny? Man, I ain’t seen that cat in forever. Thought he died. Did he send you?”
Jasper nodded. “Some people thought you were dead, too. Now tell me who hired you.”
“For real? You a friend of Lenny’s?”
Jasper nodded. “He says you could’ve been the next Alonzo Mourning or Shaq.”
Cadillac laughed, wiping tears from his eyes. “Man, he always saw more in me than I did.”
“Me, too,” Jasper confessed.
Cadillac stared at him for a long moment, then said, “BlackBriar hired me.”
“BlackBriar? I thought they fired you.”
“Yeah, they did. Officially, anyway. But that’s just part of the recruitment process for their shady side deals, or what I call their real business.”
“What’s their real business?”
Cadillac laughed. “Drugs, sex slavery, extortion, and that’s just for starters. Funny. I thought I finally got a legit job, was turning my life around. But it turns out the new boss is same as the old one.”
“And why did they want Jessi?”
“I dunno, man.”
Jasper watched Cadillac through his silence, waiting to see if he’d volunteer details about Mallory. He wasn’t sure that he’d let the man live if he didn’t.
“Don’t know why we took the cop either,” he finally said.
“What cop?” Jasper asked, playing dumb.
“Mallory Black. I dunno. Seemed almost personal.”
“And where is she going?”
“Mexico, too, I think.”
“And you don’t know why?”
“Fuck.” Cadillac shook his head. “In for a penny, may as well tell you all of it.”
“Good idea.”
“I wasn’t on this particular gig, but one of my buddies said he was on that job to break that pedophile Paul Dodd out of custody.”
“And is he al
so in Mexico?”
“I don’t know, but if I had to guess, then yeah. And I didn’t connect the dots at the time, Price and Dodd, and their … history.”
“Why did you think you were taking her? You kidnap kids so often that you didn’t think to ask?”
“No, man. This was the first. I swear. I was only there as backup. I didn’t even know the whole job until right before we left. And I didn’t know the girl’s name at all until I saw it on the news. I figured it was some custody thing. BlackBriar works for rich folks who buy whatever the law can’t or won’t give them.”
Jasper sighed, long and deep. “Where is Black now?”
“Probably already on a truck to Mexico.”
“Thank you for your help, Cadillac.” Jasper turned to Jordyn. “You trust him?”
She stared at her father, thinking. “I dunno.”
“Who are you talking to?” Cadillac asked.
Jasper held up a finger. Wait.
“He did kidnap Jessi. But, at the same time, I believe he didn’t know the details. They coerced him into doing the job.” Jordyn nodded. “I think he’s telling the truth.”
Jasper showed Cadillac his phone. “This is my insurance policy against you getting stupid. This has all been recorded. You do anything to stop me, warn your boss, or anything that I or my partners don’t like, we’ll destroy everything and everyone you’ve ever known. You understand me?”
Cadillac nodded.
“Good. Now tell me who I should talk to at BlackBriar so I can find out where exactly Jessi and Mallory are.”
“Talk to? Like they’re just gonna talk?”
“I’ll find a way. Just give me a name.”
“There’s two guys who would likely know what you need. Obviously, there’s Victor Forbes, and then the second in command, a guy named Anders Martin. He might be your safest bet — he gets drunk at Spanky’s every Friday.”
“Spanky’s?”
“A strip club. The dude has enough to spend every night in the penthouse, but still likes to get his girls from the trailer.”
“And he’ll know?”
“He runs the day-to-day. Hell, Forbes is hardly ever around. Martin’s your best bet, anyway.”
Chapter 30 - Jasper Parish
“I don’t know about this,” Jordyn said as Jasper pulled up to the strip club.
He ignored her as his phone rang — Spider.
“It’s done,” she said.
“And everything went without a hitch?”
“No hitches.”
No one was hurt. Jasper exhaled. He hadn’t wanted to outsource such a delicate operation, but was pressed for time and lives hung in the balance. “Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”
He hung up. Jordyn was giving him The Stare.
“What?”
“So, that’s how far we’ve sunk now? To do that? I thought we were better than them.”
“I don’t need guilt trips. I did what I had to.”
“Does that make it right?”
“I don’t know about right, nor do I care. Not when there’s a job to do.”
“No matter the cost?”
“Nobody was hurt.”
“Yet.”
“Do you want to save Jessi and Mallory?”
“Of course I do.”
“Well, we’re going up against people who don’t play fair. People who don’t give a damn about the rules. People who will board a school bus and shoot a bus driver and a kid, then kidnap another. So forgive me if I don’t feel too bad for bending the rules.”
“We don’t target innocents. They aren’t part of this.”
“Sometimes the only way to win a war against bad people is to go further than they will.”
Jordyn’s eyes widened. “What does that even mean? That now you’re willing to kill innocents?”
Jasper didn’t answer. She wouldn’t like what he had to say. He got out of the car instead. “Wait here.”
She didn’t argue.
Jasper lowered his Yankees cap and went into Spanky’s, an average strip club on a typical Friday night. Filled with a mix of young, drunk college kids; sad old men frittering cash in the vain hopes of impressing young women, or at the very least, getting a happy ending in the back room; the occasional couple out for a night of fun; and the creepy dudes in booths, sitting alone and making deposits into their spank banks for later.
Jasper sat at the bar. A blonde with a fake tan and faker tits said, “Whatcha having, Sweetie?”
He ordered a beer, tipped her well, then turned around, pretending to watch the dancer taking center stage, a short black girl that looked barely older than Jordyn, dressed in a tiny neon pink skirt that matched her lipstick as some idiot rapper throbbed from the speakers.
Jasper scanned the club, searching for his target. After a few minutes, he found Anders sitting by himself at a table near the stage, drinking and chatting with a redheaded dancer. She was laughing at everything he said, touching his arm, and flirting hard.
“How are you doing, baby?” A young blonde had approached him and spoke in a throaty voice with a thick, Russian accent. She took a seat next to him at the bar. She was in her early twenties, if that, and gorgeous — far too pretty for a dive like this.
What things had gone wrong in her life to have led her here? Had she been tricked into coming, forced to work for the sex industry as so many women in the former Soviet Union and other countries had been?
Or perhaps he had her all wrong. Maybe she was one of the few who liked the job, one of the rare exotic dancers who was saving to become a lawyer.
But Jasper had been a cop long enough to know most girls had tragic backgrounds that broke your heart and made you want to punch things.
“Good. And you?”
“Better, now that you’re here.” She eyed him up and down. “What’s your name?”
“Dennis.”
She offered him her hand. “I’m Nastya.”
He shook it, feeling awkward.
Small talk was high on the list of things Jasper hated. Even higher was the awkward exchanges that could only happen in a place like this, where every word was working to worm its way into his wallet.
The whole thing was sad for everyone involved, and Jasper wished the blonde would just go away.
But as he watched his mark, a second dancer — a tanned Japanese woman in a white bikini — joined Anders at his table. The man looked up, directly toward Jasper.
He didn’t turn, as that would give him away. Instead Jasper pretended to be staring center stage. Then he turned to Nastya and flirted back. She laughed at his dumb joke, so he was blending in.
Nothing to see here, Anders. Just another dude in a seedy club.
Nastya asked Jasper if he’d like a private dance. No, but he wasn’t ready for her to leave.
“You want a drink?”
Of course she did. He told her to order whatever she wanted.
The song changed, and the girl on stage was now nude.
Jasper pretended to watch her, though he found her much more attractive in clothes.
He kept an eye on Anders and his pair of strippers. They all stood, then started toward the back room. Jasper turned to Nastya.
“You know what, I think I will take that private dance.”
She smiled, taking a sip of her drink. It was probably non-alcoholic. Dudes would spend a fortune trying to get a girl drunk, thinking they might be that rare guy who got to take a stripper home — or at least get a blow job in the parking lot.
Nastya led Jasper past a mean-looking bouncer and into a long hall of curtained booths. The empties had their curtains pulled back to red leather love seats and tables big enough for exactly two drinks.
Nine of the booths were occupied. He wondered which one Anders was in.
One of the curtains pushed back as the Japanese girl brushed against it, removing her top. Four booths down and across from Jasper.
Nastya stepped inside, pulled the curtain closed, and
sat beside Jasper. “I’ll wait for the next song to start.” Then she ran her fingers over his chest. “So, what do you do, Dennis?”
Ugh, more small talk.
“Funny you should ask. I help people in bad spots. I’m here to catch a bad man before he hurts someone I love.”
She looked confused. He reached into his pants pocket, pulled out a wad of hundreds, and started counting. Fourteen hundred dollars. More in his other pocket.
“I need you to do me a favor. Bring me over to this booth.”
“Um, I—”
“Do this, and you can keep the money.” Jasper handed her the cash.
Nastya was confused, her hands on the money, not sure what she was agreeing to.
“The man I’m after kidnapped a little girl. I’m trying to get her home. Can you help me? Can you help her mother?”
She nodded, taking the money and stuffing it into her garter belt.
“Let’s go.” Jasper stood and nodded toward the booth where the dancers were grinding on Anders.
The bouncer glanced at her. She nodded — everything’s cool — then dipped behind the curtain and pulled Jasper in behind her.
Anders, who had the Japanese dancer on his lap, looked up shocked. “What’s going on?”
The dancers looked at Nastya. Jasper handed them both wads of hundreds. “Get lost. Nastya stays.”
The women left in a hurry.
“What the hell is this about?” Anders said, starting to stand.
“Sit down, Anders. We need to talk. It’s about your family.”
“What?” His eyes dilated. Maybe he thought Jasper was a cop, Jasper had that look even in jeans.
He fished the phone from his jacket, pulled up the video feed, and showed Anders the room with the two people tied to chairs. “My associates have your wife and daughter. If you fail to comply, or they don’t hear from me in a timely manner, they’ll kill them both.”
Anders’s eyes went so wide, Jasper thought they might pop right out of his reddening face. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I’ve come to save the girl you kidnapped. Jessi Price, name ring a bell?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Jasper shook his head. “Wrong answer. Should I text my friends and tell them not to wait? To just go ahead and cut your wife and little girl to pieces now?”