Vigilante Dead

by DV Berkom

  The name on the terse emails Dobson sent. “Well, Amelia, is there anything else we should do?”

  She nodded.

  “I usually have a snack waiting for him on the kitchen counter.”

  That didn’t sound unusual. She could use this as an opportunity to signal to Dobson that something was wrong, though. “Okay. Why don’t you go ahead and prepare whatever it is you usually fix for him, and then we’ll head back to one of the other rooms where we can keep an eye on things.”

  Amelia nodded and walked into the kitchen, where she set out a small dish of olives and cheese from the fridge, along with a box of crackers, a chilled bottle of white wine, and a wineglass. Angie and Eve watched her closely, while Luke and Darwin disappeared down the hall. I walked to the opposite side of the room and flicked on the lights for the front of the house.

  “Where do I turn on the dock lights?”

  Amelia pointed to a set of light switches to the right of the door. “Second one in,” she said. I flicked the switch and two floodlights blinked on below the house, illuminating the dock and dark water beyond.

  “Is that it?” I asked again.

  She nodded. I joined her in the kitchen, and we followed the others to the back of the house. I was surprised that she wasn’t more protective of her employer and said so. She appeared to think over my observation and then stopped in the hallway.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I nodded.

  “Does this have anything to do with the overdoses in Seattle?”

  The answer must have showed on my face, because she hurriedly explained. “One day when I was cleaning his study, I ran across a bunch of clippings from the news. Every one of them was an article or post about the fentanyl overdoses, and how no one could figure out the source of the contaminated supply.” She shrugged. “At the time, I didn’t really think anything of it. I just assumed he was interested in the story because that’s the business he’s in. But now…” She looked at me, the unasked question in her eyes.

  “I can tell you that the plan is not to kill him, or you. I can also tell you that by the time we’re finished here, you’ll understand.”

  My answer must have satisfied her, because she allowed me to lead her down the hall to the guest bedroom.

  “Luke, could you bring some rope and the roll of duct tape to the guest bedroom?”

  “Be there in a flash.”

  After securing Amelia to the bed, I turned on the TV that was attached to the wall and slipped a pair of noise-canceling headphones over her ears so she could watch TV in peace. The headphones would also make sure she couldn’t hear anything if they got rough with Dobson.

  I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  A piece of duct tape over her mouth ensured she wouldn’t call out to warn Dobson. Shutting the door behind me, I crossed the hall to the master bedroom to join Luke, Angie, and Eve, who were all waiting in the gigantic master bath. I had hoped Eve would send Darwin away from the house and back to the forest to keep Kitten company.

  No such luck.

  Darwin was curled up in the oval bathtub, his back to the room. I glanced at Eve. She motioned for me to follow her into the bedroom.

  “I wanted to keep an eye on him. It doesn’t feel right to let him loose out there,” she said.

  “Good point. We’re still on the same page, right?” I watched her carefully, alert for signs of deception. “No murder, just get him on video confessing to releasing the drugs, whatever that takes.”

  Eve nodded. “Yeah. Of course. I don’t want to be an accessory to murder and have that hanging over my head for the rest of my life. I’ve asked Luke to watch him while we’re dealing with Dobson.”

  “That’s good, because as long as he’s part of this crew he’s going to be a liability.”

  “I know. And he knows we know. He’ll be fine, I’m sure of it. He’s still hurting about Sean. We all are.”

  “There’s hurting and then there’s wanting to strike out at what’s hurting. I have a feeling that Darwin is firmly in the latter camp.”

  “Maybe. But I have a feeling that Angie is…”

  “Angie’s what?” Angie asked, walking in the door. Her look said she wasn’t very happy that she caught us talking about her. Eve opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by the sound of Kitten’s voice over the radio.

  “Dobson’s here.” The faint sound of a low-flying plane could be heard echoing off the rocks in the tiny harbor.

  The three of us went back into the bathroom and closed the door.

  “We’re in position,” Eve said into the mic.

  “Got it. I’ll let you know when he’s inside the house.”

  Thirty-One

  WE WAITED IN silence as Kitten gave us a play-by-play of Dobson’s movements.

  “He’s at the door. Looks like he’s got a bag of groceries in his hand.”

  “Taking out his key.”

  “He’s inside, next to the alarm.”

  There was the faint sound of an alarm beeping, and then it stopped. The front door slammed.

  “I restarted the loops.”

  “What about the wine and food on the counter?” I asked. “If someone’s monitoring, the counter will be empty.”

  “Oops. Yep. No problem. I’ll reset it now.”

  We waited in silence while she worked.

  “Okay. Got it.” There was a pause. “He set the groceries on the kitchen counter. Now he’s pouring himself a glass of wine. You guys are free to move about the cabin.”

  “Let’s go,” Eve said and eased the door open.

  We moved through the bedroom into the hall. Luke and Darwin went first, then Eve, then me. Angie came last, as usual. The gun I was wearing reminded me that I had the element of surprise in case things got out of hand.

  I followed them into the hallway next to the kitchen. Luke and Darwin stepped into the room.

  “Wha—who the hell are you?” The surprise in Dobson’s voice sounded more like outrage than fear. I nodded at Eve and we joined the guys. Angie stayed behind, out of sight. Wide-eyed, Dobson looked from one to the other of us. He wore a white button-down Oxford shirt, and his narrow shoulders sloped to a rounded belly that spilled over a pair of baggy jeans, ending with nubby socks and leather sandals. It was kind of a letdown. For some reason, my imagination had painted him as more sinister.

  At least more fit.

  “Who the hell are you?” When he didn’t get a fast enough answer, he added, “I’m calling the police.” He started to reach into his front pocket.

  Angie rounded the corner, a .45 in her hand, and cleared her throat.

  His gaze fell to the barrel of the gun aimed at his chest and he blinked twice, as though hoping the scene would disappear. He pulled his hand back empty and raised them both in the air. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. “Look, I’ve got money. Take what you want.” With a panicked expression, his gaze shifted around the room, landing first on a sculpture, then a glass bowl, and last on the paintings.

  “We don’t want your money.” Darwin’s narrowed eyes and clenched fists gave the impression he was having a hard time controlling his anger. Luke took a step closer to him.

  “Then what are you doing here?” He glanced behind us. “What have you done with Brutus? And Ameila?”

  “Don’t worry about them. Worry about yourself, murderer.”

  Eve shot Darwin a sharp look and he clamped his lips closed. “Luke, tie him up,” she said.

  Luke walked around to the other side of the counter and pulled Dobson’s hands behind his back, securing his wrists with a zip tie. Dobson didn’t struggle.

  “Listen, whatever it is you want, and I mean anything, just tell me. We can work this out. Obviously, I’m a very rich man.”

  “Well, darlin’, that’s somethin’ we might discuss later, if you cooperate,” Angie drawled.

  Luke pushed him toward the hallway, with Darwin close behind. As he passed by me, a flicker of hope sp
rang into his eyes.

  “You people will never get away with this. You know that this is illegal and you’ll go to jail, right? Tell them. Tell them now.” He jutted his chin at his captors like a bulldog.

  When I didn’t reply, he searched each of our faces, looking for an ally.

  He didn’t find one.

  Luke and Darwin led him into the master bedroom and ordered him into the chair by the window. He sat down, his eyes filled with conflicting emotions. Disbelief. Fear. Hope. Anger. Luke and Darwin strapped him in with more zip ties and then stepped away.

  Eve walked over to the bed, picked up a large envelope, and stood in front of him. He winced at her expression. She removed the contents, which turned out to be large color photographs. She rifled through them before she decided on one, which she flipped around to show him. His gaze trailed from her face to the photograph. Confusion filled his eyes.

  “Why are you showing me this?”

  Without replying, Eve shuffled the photographs and showed him another one. He gave it a quick glance and looked away. She did the same again. This time, Dobson refused to look.

  “Look at the picture, dammit.” Eve’s voice shook. She took a step closer and shoved the photo in his face. He resolutely stared past the image, refusing to see it. “Look.” She ground out the word. When he didn’t respond, she slapped him hard across the face. The sharp crack of her palm hitting his cheek split through the room. He glared at her. With a frustrated cry, she threw the envelope and its contents to the floor. I glanced at the top picture.

  It showed a man lying on a gurney, eyes closed, skin as white as the sheet underneath his head. Vomit ran down the side of his face, staining the pillow.

  “That’s Sean,” she said, her voice quivering with emotion. “Sean was amazing. He was talented, handsome, kind, and he loved people.” Tears slid down her face as she looked at the ceiling and wiped her eyes. I glanced at Darwin. He stared into space, repetitively bumping his fist against his thigh, his jaw flexing.

  “And you know what happened to Sean? Loving, generous, talented Sean? Hmm?” She grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to look at her. “You killed him, that’s what.”

  Disgusted, Eve let go and bent down to pick up one of the photographs. She held it in her hands and stared at it, grief playing across her face. Slowly raising her head, she looked up at Dobson. “He died because he took your drug. The one your company created. He died because he passed out and no one was there to roll him over onto his side—” Tears streamed down her face. “No one was there to help him. He suffocated on his own vomit.” Her voice trailed off and she started to sob. My heart went out to her. It was a horrifying way to die.

  Dobson had the grace to look ashamed. At least, that’s what I thought.

  I was wrong.

  “There’s no evidence that I or Pro-Pharma did anything wrong. So a couple of the pills ended up on the streets of Seattle and a few junkies died. Big fucking deal. The majority of the batch went to the Democratic Republic of Congo, not the US.”

  Startled by his callous confession, I stared at Dobson. “And how is that even remotely acceptable?”

  Dobson leveled his gaze at me. “That’s what junkies do.” His tone suggested he was speaking to a three-year-old. “They overdose. Survival of the fittest. As for shipping the drugs overseas, it’s a win-win. They get cheap drugs, and Pro-Pharma recoups part of their investment. The board was all for it when I explained how much they’d make from an essentially worthless shipment.” When I didn’t say anything, he frowned and narrowed his eyes. “Obviously, you don’t get how the world actually works. What the hell are you? Some liberal, pansy ass political group upset because Big Pharma made a little money off some worthless junkies?” The derisive sneer on his face was enough reason to pistol-whip him.

  I restrained the impulse.

  “I’ll bet you guys fancy yourselves as some kind of vigilante squad, am I right?” he continued, digging himself an even deeper hole. “What are you going to do, save the world from the big, bad corporations? Some kind of wannabe Anonymous group?”

  My anger got the better of me. I checked to make sure I wasn’t in view of the camera.

  “Now, Mick,” I began. “Can I call you Mick?” I smiled, all friendly-like. “I know quite a bit about how the cartels in Mexico work, spent a lot of time with them, actually. And what I’m hearing from you is pretty gosh-darn similar. They don’t care squat about their customers except to hook them. You’ve heard about the power of free, right?” I raised my eyebrows. “Well, of course you have. Your company is most generous when it comes to giving out free samples to doctors.” I shook my head in mock concern. “The cartels took a page out of Big Pharma’s playbook. They send the subgrade stuff to third world countries, keeping the higher-grade drugs for their US customers. Although, from what I understand, even that’s changing.”

  “You can’t compare what my company does to a criminal enterprise.” Dobson was getting angry. His face a deep red, he strained forward in his chair.

  “Actually, I can. The people in this room have lost someone they loved, your so-called junkies, to the toxic painkillers your company created.” Everyone except Angie. I looked for her, but she was nowhere in sight. I returned my attention to Dobson. “Whether you intended the drugs to end up on the streets of Seattle or not, you’re still liable for the deaths. You didn’t destroy the contaminated painkillers. I’m not sure, but I think Pro-Pharma’s image as a caring, progressive corporation will suffer when we tell the world your company thinks nothing of sending dangerous, toxic drugs to unwitting patients in Africa.”

  “You won’t. We’ll sic our lawyers on you for libel so fast, the speed of light will seem slow. You’ll be buried in paperwork for a decade. Not to mention the enormous legal fees. I see bankruptcy followed by a long prison term in your future. In all of your futures.” He nodded at everyone in the room. Then he looked back at me with a look that said top that.

  “Maybe so, but I think you’ve already implicated yourself and your company enough to initiate an investigation.”

  “You idiots are dreaming.” Dobson rolled his eyes. “No one will believe a violent vigilante force against one of the top CEOs in the Northwest. Shit, with the FDA stretched as thin as it is, I could probably distribute arsenic as some kind of fucking miracle cure, and no one would be the wiser.”

  Eve stepped forward and turned her phone so he could see it. Dobson’s voice came over the speaker.

  “There’s no evidence that I or Pro-Pharma did anything wrong. So a couple of the pills ended up on the streets of Seattle and a few junkies died. Big fucking deal. The majority of the batch went to the Democratic Republic of Congo, not the US.”

  Dobson’s eyes widened and he stared at Eve.

  “We have the rest on video. What was it you said? That’s what junkies do. They die.” She shook her head in mock sympathy.

  “What are you going to do with that?” he asked, staring at the phone. His voice had a slight tremor.

  Eve shrugged. “That depends on you.”

  “What do you want?”

  Quite the change in attitude. I was surprised he didn’t get whiplash.

  “For starters, you will resign as CEO of Pro-Pharma, but before you do, you will recall the drugs from the Democratic Republic of the Congo and convince the board to earmark a percentage of earned profits to go to the victims and their families. If the board disagrees, then you will pay the survivors out of pocket.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or we make the video available online. I guarantee with our connections it’ll go viral.” Eve smiled. This time, it was her look that said top that.

  “Fuck you. It won’t work. No one will believe you. Pro-Pharma has the best reputation in the business. It took years of public relations to build it. You won’t be able to destroy my company that easily. Even with a video.”

  “He’s right. It won’t be enough.” His jaw set, Darwin circled behind Dobson, f
ists clenched. Luke moved to restrain him, but Darwin shook him off. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a knife. Before anyone could stop him, Darwin grabbed Dobson by the hair and held the knife to his neck.

  Eve’s sharp intake of breath told me she hadn’t known he had a weapon. With everyone’s attention on Darwin and Dobson, I unzipped my coat to make it easier to get to my gun, but hesitated. From where I stood there was no clear shot, and I didn’t trust myself to “wing” him. I didn’t want to shoot either one. I understood Darwin’s anguish and didn’t think he deserved to die. My preference to see Dobson alive was entirely selfish. I wanted him to live long enough to pay for his sins.

  “Darwin.” Luke’s voice cut through the tension in the room. “Give me the knife. You don’t want to do this.” He took a step closer to him and held out his hand for the knife. Darwin shook his head.

  “No, Luke. I can’t. I can’t let this asshole live a second longer. Not after what he did to Sean.”

  “Baby, Sean’s gone—there’s nothing we can do about that.” Eve softened her voice, but stayed where she was. “He wouldn’t want this.”

  Darwin shook his head again, the agony of loss clear on his face. Tears and confusion filled his eyes.

  No one moved. The knife shook in Darwin’s trembling hand. It looked like he might have been rethinking his decision, but I couldn’t be sure. I moved to get into a better position when there was a disturbance near the doorway. A loud popping sound followed.

  A small dark hole appeared on Darwin’s forehead. The knife fell from his hand as his eyes glazed over and he crumpled to the ground.

  Thirty-Two

  “NO!” EVE AND Luke both lunged for Darwin. A trickle of blood oozed from the bullet wound. I whirled to see Angie with a silenced gun in her hand, a pissed-off expression on her face. Amelia was behind her, a stunned look on her face.

  “You killed him,” Eve cried. She cradled Darwin’s head in her lap as tears coursed down her cheeks. Luke felt his neck for a pulse. Evidently not finding one, he closed his eyes and hung his head.