Instead of killing her, if such a woman existed, such a strong female warrior, Happy preferred fucking her.
He laughed, No way! This woman had to suffer after killing my men.
Passing a particular restaurant which served great food meant they were halfway to Lola's house.
He hadn't had to deal with many women over the years. He had plans for the gringa. Happy wanted to keep her alive for days. He would begin with her feet—use a chisel to dig out her toenails. Followed up by peeling her toes like little grapes.
He'd let his men run a train on her for days, and the second his men no longer had any use of her, her lips would be cut off with wire cutters.
Happy sighed, smiling.
Chapter Forty-Two
Crime Fighting Techniques
The news was covering what Frogger and his homies did on almost every channel.
The others in Triple H would be giving him props for years to come.
The subtitle under a suit read, US Senator Cruz - Texas (R).
"Thank you for speaking with us Senator Cruz," the Asian reporter said.
He had watched this reporter a few times before. Didn't care about what she had to say, he only wanted to see her naked.
The senator's eyes narrowed, as if he were thinking. "Of course, glad to talk to the media."
"Senator, I wanted you to comment on what the media has dubbed the Montrose Massacre, this morning," the reporter said.
"First, I wanted to let the relatives and friends of the victims know that my prayers are with them."
Frogger listened as Cruz talked about the crime fighting techniques in Houston and in Texas. Then he said something very interesting. "I just got off the phone with the President."
Frogger laughed. "Whoa! The president knows?"
The reporter's eyes lit up. "Will President Trump be giving a speech abo..."
Cruz's continued, "No Tricia, the President will be coming to Houston to speak to law enforcement and to some of the families of the victims, the day after tomorrow."
Frogger felt powerful, like a lion. He had beaten down enough fools in his life that made him feel like a badass but this was on another level.
But there was a bad side to this shit though. Cops would not give up looking for him. He might have to leave town for a while.
Frogger sighed, turning down the volume on the TV. He didn't understand Senator Cruz's comments anymore and didn't care. He placed the remote down on the nightstand, yanked open the drawer and grabbed his lighter and a brand new joint.
Lighting the joint, Frogger took a deep drag, feeling the smoke filling his lungs, holding his breath for half a minute before exhaling slowly. It was good weed. He'd have to remember to thank Happy later.
He put the lighter on the nightstand then turned his attention to the TV again.
A spike of pain shot through his shoulder. Frogger looked down at his shoulder covered in gauze. Lola did a good job, cleaning the wounds and fixing him up. The pain, reminded him of the bitch who shot him.
His stomach growled. "Damn, woman. What's taking so long?" He didn't dare say that aloud, she wouldn't bring him shit if he pissed her off.
Two minutes later the door opened.
His stomach growled again. Lola had a weird look on her face. Something was wrong. "¿Que paso?"
Lola looked at the door and the white bitch who killed his homies and shot him, entered the room.
His heart almost stopped when the other woman entered. It was like the devil had invaded the room. "But how?" he mumbled the question, barely audible. Frogger had never been this confused in his life
It was the woman who shot him and killed his homies.
"You?"
She smiled at him.
"How did you find me?"
She ignored the question, aiming the gun at him.
It didn't matter how she found him, she was here to kill him. He tried to sit up straight.
She aimed the pistol at his left knee, squeezed the trigger.
Bright yellow pain erupted in his knee. Instead of screaming, he allowed the pain to swim alone in his mind, not wanting to give this bitch the satisfaction of hurting him.
He glared at what used to be his knee. White bone shone through the bloody mess. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Frogger glanced up, wanting to rip this woman's throat out, but he kept his mouth shut.
Nobody did this to him and got away with it. "Who are you?"
The gringa's head cocked to the side, her left eye twitched, raising her weapon.
Lola glanced back at him, not moving a finger.
"No, please don't shoot her!"
"What did you ask me?" The woman turned the gun on Lola.
"Alright, I don't need to know!" The pain in his knee was bad. Frogger remembered the back-up weapons hidden in the bedroom.
Frogger hoped Lola thought about grabbing the gun under the mattress. That was his only hope of getting out of here alive. Her father taught her how to use guns.
"You killed, Sarah Jennings and her two-year-old son, Timmy Jennings. You murdered other children too. I returned fired, killing your buddies. I threw my phone in your car, knowing I could track it before you drove off like a coward."
Her words stung, making Frogger feel foolish and stupid.
"I tracked my phone to a house, found your butt buddies guarding the place."
His heart sank down into his belly. That was too easy.
"Yes, your butt buddies are all dead, but not before Spider gave you up. He told me that you guys are Triple H, a bunch of pussies if you ask me. He told me you came here, hiding behind your pregnant girlfriend, like the biggest pussy I've ever seen, and I have seen some pretty big pussies in my time!"
He couldn't take much more of this woman's mouth. She took her eyes off of Lola, stepping at him, staring at him. "You like to kill children? I'm going to ..." she said, stopping mid-sentence, turning to Lola. "No, don't!"
Frogger stared at the gun in Lola's hand.
Lola fired at the white lady. BANG!
The gringa backed up to the wall, but did not fall. The gringa brought her gun hand up and fired twice.
Lola's face exploding, reminding Spider of Diablo's face. Her body fell backward, hitting the floor with a thud.
She was dead.
He turned to the woman. "What did you do?" Frogger couldn't believe what just happened. "You killed her! You bitch! I'll kill you! I'll kill you bitch!"
"She tried to kill me and I reacted. What did you expect?"
Frogger said nothing, gazing down at Lola's dead body on the floor.
"I wasn't going to hurt her, but she fired on me," she said, shaking her head. "She was stupid for doing that."
His face feeling hot, Frogger screamed. "I'll kill you!"
"Shut up you pussy! She was braver than you."
They glared at each other.
"Who hired you, Frogger?"
Lola was dead. Killing her did not bother the gringa. "Why should I tell you? You're just going to kill me."
"The wounds you have aren't fatal, you can still live. You tell me what I want to know, I'll leave and never come after you again. You would have to leave Houston forever and never come back. You do and I will kill you."
He nodded.
"But if you don't give me the information I need, I will get my wire snips out of my car and start cutting off little pieces of flesh from your body. Then I'll make you eat those pieces of flesh."
Those words made his groin hurt. "What do you want to know?"
"Who hired you?"
He hiked up one shoulder. "Some guy named Tony."
"Where can I find Tony?"
He shrugged. "He's just some guy who wanted a woman dead. Yo, what man doesn't want to kill a bitch every now and then?"
With those words she flipped her pistol over in her hand and grabbed the barrel, bringing the butt of the gun down like a hammer on his shin.
He screamed, star burst of light dancing in
front of his eyes. Wow! She hit his bad leg, the one with the missing knee.
"That shit hurts!"
She bent over, staring at him. "Your words hurt me so I hurt you."
He held up a hand. "No! You don't have to do that!"
The gringa lowered the weapon. "How do I find Tony?"
The question, this time, made him smile. "The house I dropped that car off?"
"What about it?"
"Happy was there with about ten Triple H soldiers."
"Not when I was there."
"No, that guy Tony was there too. He rode there with Spider from Happy's shop."
Her eyes gave him the impression that she might understand what that meant. "Keep going."
"You see, Tony was there."
She thought about it. "So, what?"
"Happy didn't tell me what he was thinking but I know that he doesn't show anyone one any of our safe houses, unless he planned on killing him afterwards."
Chapter Forty-Three
You Guys Wanted To Get High
Whenever I found myself in a stranger's house and I needed to extract information expeditiously, I improvised.
Household products worked fine.
I'm talking about chemical products.
Products found under most kitchen sinks were really bad for human consumption.
Over the years, I have made bad men drink awful things. Liquid dish soaps were a great way to start.
Liquid Drano was another one, however I wouldn't start with it, because it always caused internal bleeding quicker than I wanted. I accidentally killed a man by making him ingest Liquid Drano. He owed a lot of money on a boxing fight that some bad guys had fixed. Turned out the man had a problem with the lining of his stomach. Whatever, not my fault. The guy died in a lot of pain. His wife helped me when she told me where to find the money. And all I had to do was threaten to make her drink a shot glass full of Dawn liquid soap.
Windex was a good one to start with then steadily work your way to the drain cleaning chemicals.
An effective way to make someone sing was pulling out finger nails. Using a pair of needle-nose pliers, I once pulled out eight fingernails from two different Nicaraguans. The particular method helped me obtain the information I wanted.
Frogger needed to suffer. He pulled the trigger and killed Sarah and Timmy. My eyes explored the room, and I spotted the lamp on the nightstand. A plan was forming. You want to torture someone quick, don't use household chemicals: Use electricity.
First, I needed to check for weapons.
"What do you have in the nightstand?" I still aimed the pistol in his direction.
"Nothing."
I found a handgun along with a baggie of weed in the nightstand drawer. I pocketed the weed and ejected the magazine and disassembled the gun. "What else you got? Something under your pillow?"
He said nothing.
"I'm going to search this room, and I will make it hurt if I find something."
He rolled his eyes and hunched forward. "Yes," he said pointing behind his back. I picked the pillow up and found a machete, the short version. Although short, still deadly in the right hands.
I grabbed the machete, and the weight felt good in my hand. "Take your belt off."
Frogger gave me a quizzical look. I grabbed my HK and pointed the end of the barrel at his head. "I can just take it off your dead body if you want!"
Wincing, he took his belt off and handed it to me.
Shucking off my jacket, I revealed my bullet-proof vest. I wrapped the belt around my ribcage, fastening it, threading the end of the machete's blade in between the belt and the back of the vest. Once I let go of the handle, the machete did not move.
I put my jacket back on. "Thanks for the machete."
He scoffed, continuing to lay there.
Peered through the blinds again, nobody had arrived yet. Happy's guy still sat out there in his car.
A video popped up (for about twelve minutes before being taken down) on YouTube three years ago of a man, dressed in all black, pouring what appeared to be gasoline, onto a crying man held by two other men in black. The men stood on I-10 Highway, with few passing cars. The crying man had a tire over his torso, immobilizing his arms, kneeling down onto I-10.
The man in black lit the crying man as two other men in black released him. Flames engulfing him, His cries turned into agonizing screams. The guy shooting the video laughed while he chased the burning man.
Screaming, the burning man ran a few yards. Then he fell to the concrete, and the screaming stopped.
Umberto Salazar, the man who burned to death, was a pipe-fitter from Pasadena, Texas. The police report stated that Mr. Salazar got into a fight with Hispanic men outside a nightclub after one of the group bumped into him. According to eyewitnesses, Umberto got the best of them. Lighting him on fire had been pay back.
Only pussies can't handle losing. If you try and put up a good fight, there should be no shame, and no cause to kill, much less set a person on fire.
Mr. Salazar left behind a wife and four children: three girls and a son. No witnesses came forward except for a couple of the club's staff.
Henry told me they suspected Triple H in the murder, but there was insufficient evidence for an arrest.
This Tony guy that Frogger mentioned, knew the guy who dumped the body. And the guy who dumped the body was the one who put the hit out on Sarah.
The hit did not go down like Happy had planned. Three of his guys, soon to be four, were dead.
I wanted to peel Frogger's face like an orange if only to show the universe that someone did something about Sarah and Timmy's deaths. "Why did y'all shoot up everyone like that?"
He shrugged and said nothing.
"Do you realize that you guys also shot and killed children?" I asked. "Why do that if your only target was Sarah? I can't imagine Tony, however sick he might be, would ask for that."
Smirking, his eyes dismissed the question, yet at the same time his eyes said he had something to say.
I waited for his sage reply.
"Life is dangerous, yo. Tomorrow ain't promised to nobody! That's how it is on the streets."
Wow! Such wisdom. My finger caressing the pistol's trigger, I aimed the barrel of the HK directly at his groin. "Did Tony want you to shoot those children? And the rest of those people?"
"No, he wanted one of us to walk up and take her purse and shoot her. Make it look like a robbery or something."
"But what happened?"
"It was supposed to be Smiley and Ghost, walk up to her, take her purse and then shoot her, but them two and Diablo, the guy who drove, wanted to hurry up and ..."
"Why did they want to hurry? Walking up to her would have taken twenty seconds!" I demanded.
Hesitating a few seconds, he hiked his shoulders and said, "They wanted to get high! That's why they wanted to hurry!"
My eyes narrowed. "So, innocent people, including children, had to die, because you guys wanted to rush the job to get high?"
He glanced up and shrugged. "Yes."
Chapter Forty-Four
A Hostess Smile
They decided to go to Marquez's residence before heading to his love shack, hoping Rogelio was there with his wife.
A suspect was more cooperative if he thought they would accidentally tell the wife about a potential love shack.
Both inspectors, exiting the unmarked car, walked up to the front door and Henry knocked.
The door opened.
An older, photogenic woman stood in the doorway. "Yes?"
Henry flashed his badge. "Good morning, ma'am, we are Inspectors Mason and Creed, with the Houston Police Department. Are you Mrs. Marquez?"
Above her waistline, one hand held her elbow, and the other grabbed her shirt collar close to the neck. "Yes, I am."
"We are looking for your husband, Mr. Rogelio Marquez. We have some questions for him. Is he here?"
She shook her head lightly. "Rogelio isn't here."
&n
bsp; His badge went back in the inside pocket of his jacket. "Do you know where your husband is, ma'am?"
"What is this about?" The woman raised both eyebrows, still holding onto her collar.
Mitch took a step forward. "Ma'am, we are investigating a murder and ..."
The hand grabbing the collar moved to cover her mouth. "My husband wouldn't hurt a fly, much less kill anyone."
Mitch held up a hand. "Yes, ma'am, a young lady was killed and we just need to speak to him."
Mrs. Marquez folded her arms in front of her chest. She was clearly worried.
Mitch pointed inside her home. "Ma'am, could we come inside for a minute and discuss this? I don't like the cold."
Her face softening, she stepped to the side and smiled. "Yes, of course, please come in."
She closed the door and led them to the living room. Mrs. Marquez held up a finger. "I'll be right back."
Henry nodded in acknowledgement. "Yes, ma'am."
Giving them a hostess smile, Mrs. Marquez left.
Mitch whispered, "He did it. He killed her and dumped her body like trash."
Henry tried to make the connection from Rogelio, an owner of an upscale restaurant to killing a woman, dumping her body, and a brazen, murderous morning drive-by, killing women and children.
Reality was that anyone could be connected to anyone else, dots to be connected to other dots. Rogelio might be the one who dumped the body, and possibly an uncle or friend of a gang member or someone of that ilk. At the present time they didn't even have the dots to connect. Just supposition at the moment.
Mrs. Marquez came back with a tray. She laid it down on the coffee table between them. "Please, gentlemen have a cup of tea with me. It will warm you up."
Not hesitating, Mitch grabbed a cup, appreciating the warm porcelain between both hands. Henry did the same.
Henry enjoyed this; having tea with a lady was a welcome change in their daily routine of dealing with crooks, and killers.
"Thank you Mrs. Marquez, this is warm," Mitch mumbled, holding his cup with pinky held high when he took his first sip.
Henry sipped. "Oh, that is so good. What is this?"
Mrs. Marquez answered, "Earl grey. I love the stuff."
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