Jack Taggart Mysteries 7-Book Bundle

by Easton, Don

  “Neither do we,” said Jack.

  “Good,” replied Goldie. “Leave that stuff for the suckers. I prefer friends who are a little more cerebral.”

  “You might want to mention that to Candy,” said Jack.

  Goldie chortled and said, “I don’t use her for her brains or friendship. But don’t worry; I’ll make sure she behaves.”

  “One other thing,” said Jack. “My crew, Paul and Katie … they’re Irish and I don’t want you to jump to any conclusions. No business talk in front of them. They think I’m totally legit.”

  “Understood,” replied Goldie.

  As Jack and Laura were walking away from Goldie Locks, Jack looked at Laura and said, “So far so good. It’s supposed to rain all week, so Goldie should be dressed for it. Tomorrow we can tell the narcs to drop their surveillance. He’ll be with us. Also, we’d better do a little window dressing in the apartment. Make it look like we do live there. Same for Paul and Katie’s boat. Put up a couple of pictures of us together.”

  “Why the apartment? I thought you were going to do it on the boat?”

  “Gives me two chances. I’m not all that good with a needle and thread.”

  “Me, either.”

  “But you will be better at distracting Goldie in case I take too long.”

  “His new girlfriend may not take kindly to me flirting with him.”

  “I doubt that how she feels would be a consideration to Goldie.”

  “If your plan works, he’ll never have anything to consider again,” said Laura, quietly.

  “Fly with the crows, expect to get shot.”

  Laura’s sigh was audible.

  “You think this is wrong?” asked Jack.

  “No, but it isn’t right, either.”

  “Envision yourself with a garbage bag over your head, running through the woods and being shot. Picture Goldie with his diamond-studded tooth, laughing and —”

  “I know, I know. Don’t remind me.”

  “Maybe his lucky rabbit’s foot will save him.”

  “This isn’t anything to laugh about,” said Laura, frowning. “This will be his last birthday and we’re acting like we’re his best friends. Instead, we’re assassins. Don’t you feel dirty inside?”

  “No, I don’t,” said Jack, firmly. “If you feel that way, then take another look at the photos from the park. It isn’t anything to laugh about, either.”

  They walked a little farther and Laura said, “Sorry, I’m okay with it. Just had to talk it out.”

  Jack nodded. “Good. We’re partners. We should talk things out. Are you really okay with it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Great.” They walked on and Jack added, “Wish I could see the look on his face when he sees what we gave him as a surprise birthday present.”

  Oh, man …

  On Thursday evening, Goldie and Candy arrived on schedule. “Welcome!” said Jack, inviting them inside the penthouse.

  “And your birthday kiss as promised,” said Laura, kissing Goldie on his cheek while giving him a quick hug.

  A flicker of disappointment crossed Goldie’s face. Is that all I get? A quick peck on the cheek? He glanced at Jack and pretended to smile. Just as well, Jack is bound to have a jackknife lying around somewhere …

  “Come on in, make yourselves at home,” said Jack. “I’ll take your jackets and toss them on the bed. Laura, how about showing them around and I’ll be back to see what everyone likes to drink. Then in an hour, we can head down to the marina.”

  Later, after a tour of the apartment, Goldie leaned back on the sofa, with one arm draped over Candy, and the other holding his wineglass as he used it to gesture around the room. “How did you ever find this place? A penthouse backing on to Stanley Park. Two bedrooms, a view of the city. All I can say is, wow!”

  “Ah, it’s nothing,” replied Jack. “It used to be rented by a couple of Russians who I am told ran into some business difficulties. The timing happened to be right for Laura and me to move in. Actually, I think the Blue Gator is much nicer, but I find this quieter.”

  “Your own home is lovely, too,” said Laura. “Right on the water. I think it — Jack! Watch it!”

  “Shit,” muttered Jack, looking down at the red wine he had slopped on himself. “Excuse me, I better change.”

  Some time later, Jack returned with a fresh shirt on. Laura saw him make eye contact with her as he casually made a fist and scratched his chin with his thumb. Mission accomplished.

  The rest of the evening continued to go as planned. Once they arrived at the marina, Jack quickly introduced Candy and Goldie to his crew. While Paul and Katie took charge of slowly navigating the waters of Vancouver Harbour, Jack and Laura entertained their guests with glasses of Sauvignon Blanc and a beautiful view of the city lights reflecting off the water. Later, the four of them enjoyed a dinner that Jack prepared, consisting of Caesar salad, Dungeness crab, garlic toast, and plenty more Sauvignon Blanc.

  After dinner, Goldie and Candy snuggled together on a sofa, where Candy started kissing Goldie on his neck.

  “A toast,” said Jack, raising his glass. “Here’s to women’s kisses, and to whiskey, amber clear. Not as sweet as a woman’s kiss, but a damn sight more sincere!”

  Goldie looked at Candy and laughed. “Aptly put, Jack. Aptly put!” He stood and grabbed a bottle of wine and said, “Mind if I go up top and offer a drink to your crew?”

  Jack shook his head and whispered, “I wouldn’t. I told you they are strictly legit, but Paul has got a fearsome reputation. Kind of guy who would start a fight in an empty house.”

  “Oh, I see,” replied Goldie, giving a nervous glance up toward the helm before sitting back down.

  Jack hid his smile. Paul had a great sense of humour and was one of the nicest, gentlest people he knew. Too nice a person to be putting up with the likes of Goldie.

  The rest of their time together was spent in idle gossip, with much oohing and aahing over the night lights of the city reflecting off the water. Goldie was not shy about drinking, but several hours later, as the Blue Gator approached her berth in the marina, he did order a limousine to take him and Candy home.

  As Jack helped first Candy, and then Goldie on with their jackets; he knew he would also have to help Goldie get off the boat without falling in.

  “Jack, my Irish rogue,” slurred Goldie, reaching for his wineglass one last time. “I think you and me are going to conquer the fuckin’ world. You and me, buddy. You and me.”

  “One last toast,” smiled Jack, reaching for his wine glass. “Some Guinness was spilled on the barroom floor, when the pub was shut for the night. When out of his hole crept a wee brown mouse, that stood in the pale moonlight. He lapped up the frothy foam from the floor, then back on his haunches he sat. And all night long, you could hear the mouse roar, ‘Bring on the goddamn cat!’”

  Goldie tossed his drink back and laughed. If he hadn’t had so much to drink, he might have wondered why Jack and Laura’s faces momentarily turned to stone as they watched him.

  As Jack and Laura stood on the back of the boat, watching Goldie and Candy make their way down the wharf, Jack said, “And there staggers the wee brown mouse. Tomorrow we hunt rat.”

  “You think Rose will figure out what we were really doing tonight?” asked Laura. “Especially after tomorrow?”

  “She might.”

  “What do you think she’ll do?”

  Jack shrugged and said, “I guess it depends upon whether she believes in justice.”

  Laura returned Goldie’s wave goodbye, as did Jack.

  “He certainly enjoyed himself tonight,” noted Laura.

  “His next party will be his farewell party.”

  “Yeah,” replied Laura. “Either his or yours.”

  25

  Natasha awoke half an hour before her alarm radio went off, and saw Jack’s head on the pillow next to hers, staring at her intently.

  “You’re awake early,” she murmured. �
��I didn’t even hear you come in last night.”

  “Was around two,” Jack replied. “Laura and I were entertaining a bad guy.”

  “I see … so if I’m a bad girl, will you entertain me?” asked Natasha mischievously, before kissing Jack first on his chest and then on his mouth.

  “Maybe,” said Jack, when she finished. “What type of entertainment do you prefer? Were you thinking PG or —”

  “Forget that! How about triple X?”

  Jack grinned and said, “I don’t know if I want the mother of my future children talking like that … although I have to admit, I am curious. Exactly what is triple X? Is it anything like a triple fudge sundae?”

  Natasha put one finger on her chin as if in serious thought and replied, “I suppose it could involve a triple sundae. Might make a mess out of the sheets, though.”

  “How about a little religious entertainment?”

  “Religious?”

  “You know, where we each make the other say ‘Oh, God!’”

  Natasha’s grin faded quickly when she felt the fingers on Jack’s hand slowly caress up the inside of her thigh, cross her pubic mound, and glide up the side of her ribcage toward her breasts. She closed her eyes as his hand softly trailed back down her body, repeating the process, only now she felt his kisses trailing behind his hand. She tilted her head back as her lips parted in anticipation. Her body pushed upward wherever he kissed, urging him on.

  His entry felt agonizingly slow and she relished the feeling, but soon found herself breathing heavily as her hips began to match the rhythmic beat of his and their tempo increased. Their lovemaking soon became a frenzy of soft cries of orgasmic delight as their bodies rolled on the bed, convulsing together as their hands sought each other’s backs and buttocks, pulling each other tighter as they felt the climax of their lovemaking reach its pinnacle.

  After, Natasha lay with her head on Jack’s chest. She felt his fingers brush the hair from her eyes and his lips place a gentle kiss upon her forehead. She moaned when her radio turned on automatically, and, with great reluctance, left for the ensuite to ready herself for the day.

  Later, upon re-entering the bedroom, she saw Jack sitting on the edge of the bed, slowly twirling Melvin’s plastic rose in his hand. He looked worried.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing,” he said quickly.

  It was obvious his mind had been elsewhere and she had startled him. She watched as he put the rose back on the dresser and asked, “What were you thinking about?”

  Jack gave a sheepish grin and said, “I was wondering when you would get pregnant. How long it would take now that you’re not —”

  “Probably at least another month or two,” replied Natasha. She smiled and said, “You looked so serious, I was afraid something was wrong?”

  “Everything is okay.”

  “Something happening at work today?” she prodded.

  Jack nodded. “Taking care of business,” he added.

  Natasha knew that meant that whatever Jack was doing, it was dangerous. At one time he would never tell her when he was doing something dangerous, but then she found herself worrying all the time, often needlessly. They talked about it and he agreed he would be truthful about when she should worry and when she shouldn’t. It actually worked better. Sort of.

  “Will you be late tonight?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Call me when it’s over.”

  “I will. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  It was not until Natasha was driving to work that she connected the dots. Why Jack was wondering when … or if she could be pregnant … and him doing something dangerous today. He is worrying about leaving a widow behind. Worrying I could be pregnant at the same time …

  She stopped at a traffic light and a feeling of panic overtook her. The rose … it has to be about Melvin … and I pushed him into becoming involved. If he dies … She felt the tears well up in her eyes.

  Her cellphone rang and in her frustration she dumped the entire contents of her purse on the seat beside her to find it.

  “I know you’re worrying,” Jack said as soon as she answered. “Wanted to remind you that I am very good at what I do.”

  “I know that,” she replied, trying not to cry.

  “Good. You should also know that since meeting you, my risk scale has dropped considerably. I have too much to live for. Once we have a family, it will be even more so. Just thought I should tell you.”

  Natasha swallowed as she fought to keep her emotions under control before saying, “But whatever you’re doing, I know it involves Melvin and you’re doing it because of me.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “You’re not?”

  “I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Melvin.” Jack paused and said, “Okay, maybe for Winston, too.”

  Natasha was oblivious to the driver behind her who tapped the horn. She sighed. This is the guy I married. Would I really want him to be any other way?

  “You still there?” he asked.

  “I’m still here,” she replied. “I’ll always be here for you. Make sure you do the same for me.”

  It was one-thirty in the afternoon when Laura dropped Jack off in front of the office tower housing Intrinsic Global Investments.

  “Perfect weather,” said Jack. “Windy, rainy —”

  “You sure you want to do this?” Laura asked nervously.

  “I think it will work,” replied Jack, taking off his windbreaker and tossing it back in the car. “I don’t see any other way to get to him. I’ll call you in an hour. If I don’t, then call me.”

  “And if things go sideways?”

  “Worried about handling Lee?” asked Jack.

  “I can handle that little squirt.”

  “I know you can, but remember, we’re supposed to be bad guys. This will work, trust me. Use the ski mask if you have to. It’s in the trunk.”

  “But if it doesn’t work? What then? What do you want me to do?”

  “Tell Natasha that I’m sorry and that I really loved her.”

  “No, about me. What should I do if they kill you?”

  “Obey your conscience. I know you’ll do what’s right.”

  “Okay, if something happens to you, Lee is dead,” replied Laura solemnly. “You have my word on that.”

  “No! That is not what I am telling you to do. You have a life to live. Don’t blow it by doing something stupid.”

  “You mean, like you?”

  “What I am about to do will work. It’s a calculated risk. Now, promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

  “Promise me you won’t get killed,” replied Laura, stubbornly.

  26

  Kang Lee answered the telephone on his desk. It was the receptionist who worked at the main entrance to Intrinsic Global Investments. Her voice sounded curious in a whimsical sort of way.

  “Mister Lee, there is a gentleman here who wishes to see you. He says he has never met you and doesn’t have an appointment, but —”

  “I’m busy. Book him an appointment in about two weeks or call someone else.”

  “He, uh, insisted that you would want to see him. He said The Shaman would be very upset if you didn’t see him immediately.” She caught the gasp on the other end of the phone and added, “Do you wish me to call extension 666 to, uh, assist?”

  “No!” replied Lee quickly. Who would dare say ‘The Shaman’ to anyone outside the circle? It has to be Goldie or Wang … whichever one will pay dearly.

  “Mister Lee?”

  “Security is not necessary,” he replied. “A practical joke involving an old friend. I’ll be right out.”

  The startled look on Lee’s face was obvious when he stepped into the reception area and saw a stranger.

  Jack held his hand out and said, “Hello, Kang. My name is Jack O’Donnell.”

  Lee’s eyes darted nervously around the room as he shook hands.

 
; “Is there a place where we can talk in private?” asked Jack.

  “Certainly. Follow me, if you would,” replied Lee.

  Moments later, Jack found himself in a large, glassed-in corner office that afforded a view overlooking much of downtown Vancouver, including Burrard Inlet. The office included a wet bar and seating area, but Lee sought refuge behind a mammoth black wooden desk with intricately carved legs and panels.

  “Beautiful desk,” commented Jack.

  “I discovered it in Bali,” said Lee. “What is it you wish to speak to me about? You mentioned some odd name … Mister Salmon or something?”

  Jack smiled and said, “Oh, get off it, Kang. You know who I am and you certainly know who The Shaman is.”

  “Perhaps I … have heard of you,” replied Lee coldly. “A mutual friend may have mentioned you.”

  “If you’re talking about Arthur Goldie, he is no longer a friend of mine,” replied Jack.

  “It was Mister Goldie who had spoken to me about you,” admitted Lee.

  “In great depth, that I am certain,” said Jack, smiling.

  “To some extent, yes. I understood that you were his friend?”

  “That was before this morning, when a little birdie told me he was working for the police.”

  “What? Impossible!” said Lee, partially rising from his chair, before regaining his composure and sitting back down. “I mean, what on earth for? What could that possibly have to do with me?” Before Jack could reply, Lee added, “I don’t believe it,” and folded his arms across his chest.

  “Maybe you’re right,” said Jack. “I only came as a courtesy to warn you. From what Goldie told me, your … business is not unlike my own. Some day, perhaps, our paths will cross and you might be in a position to do me a favour. After all, you are The Enabler.”

  A twitch of Lee’s eyelid expressed his distaste at Jack calling him that. “I still do not believe that Mister Goldie is the sort of person to, how should I put it, run to the police over some trivial matter.”

  “From what I heard, it isn’t trivial. At least the Yanks don’t think so.”