by Jack Gibby
“Here he is,” said Wes with a smile. He and Missy walked toward a man of around forty holding a notebook in his hand and looking at a pallet of cases of wine. When he saw Wes, he smiled as well.
“Wes,” said the man with an affable demeanor. “How are you?”
“Just fine,” said Wes. The two shook hands. “Jake, I’d like you to meet Missy Marlowe. Michael’s daughter. She’s here to help out as a community and distribution liaison for us, working with the other wineries in the area to expand our reach. Missy, meet Jake Green.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” said Missy, grinning and trying to impress. She and Jake shook.
“Good to meet you, too,” said Jake. “I imagine you and I will be working pretty closely. I work for Cherry City Distribution. You heard of us?”
“Yeah,” said Missy, nodding slowly. “You distribute our wines throughout the state.”
“Bingo,” said Jake. “I work with many of the other wineries as well. But your father has got a plan to unite some of the wineries and try to go national. He’s talking about buying my company out.”
“Really,” mused Missy. She hadn’t heard that one yet.
“Really,” Jake affirmed. “Problem is, these businesses all like their independence. So it can kind of be like herding cats to get them to all agree on how to make this union happen.” Wes laughed.
“That’s an understatement,” said Wes.
“So that’s where I come in?” Missy asked, looking back and forth between Wes and Jake.
“Right,” said Wes. “We’re hoping you can begin a push to get the different wineries on board, starting with those around us here on Leelanau, then over on Old Mission. This is going to be huge. It’s a big project, and I think we all stand to make a lot of money.”
“We’re going to really put Traverse City on the map,” said Jake. “With Michael at the helm, it’s definitely possible.”
“He’s certainly driven,” said Missy, letting out an unsure laugh.
“Here’s my card,” said Jake, handing his business card over to Missy. She took it and looked down into it. “I’ve got connections all over. I can get us a meeting almost anywhere.”
“One thing to note,” Wes interjected, putting a palm up to stop Jake. “Missy, it’s important to know that none of these other wineries should know that Emperor plans to buy Cherry City Distribution. That’s sort of a key point to all this.”
“That’s right,” Jake affirmed. “None of these other guys can know about that. You got that?”
“Yeah,” said Missy with trepidation. “Yeah, I understand.”
“Good,” said Wes. “So I think we’re all on the same page here. I’ll leave you two to talk out your plan,” he said, widening his arms and placing a hand on both Missy and Jake’s shoulders. “Circle around in a couple days and bring something to me, Missy, and we’ll go from there.”
“Got it,” said Missy.
“Thanks Jake,” said Wes. He shook Jake’s hand once again.
“No problem, Wes,” Jake replied.
“I’ll see you both around,” said Wes. He raised a brow and then he turned from them and walked off.
Missy and Jake stood there for an awkward moment in silence until Missy finally spoke up.
“I’d give you my card,” she said. “But I actually don’t have one yet. It’s my first day.” Jake smiled. He looked her up and down and waited a moment before he spoke.
“I tell you what,” said Jake, reaching into his jacket pocket and retrieving his phone. He unlocked it and tapped around for a moment. Then he handed it over to Missy. “Why don’t you just give me your number. Business cards are so old school.”
“Yeah, all right,” said Missy with Jake’s phone in her hands. He had already created a contact for her. She hesitated, but then she put her number in and handed the phone back.
“Perfect,” said Jake, looking at his phone screen, tapping a few more times. Back into his pocket it went. “You and I should get together for dinner some time. You know, figure out our plan of attack. What do you think?”
“Dinner?” asked Missy. “I don’t really eat dinner.” At first Jake was confused, but after a pause he laughed.
“Right,” said Jake. “Do you like sour beers?”
“Sour beers?” Missy repeated. “Yeah, sure.”
“So you’ve been to Jolly Pumpkin over on Old Mission?” he asked.
“Of course,” said Missy.
“I love those guys,” said Jake. “Great food, great beer, great people. Why don’t you and I catch dinner there soon. My treat.”
“Let me think about it,” said Missy. “I’ve had a lot going on lately.”
“Wait,” said Jake, stopping himself. “You’re not married, are you?”
“Married?” said Missy. “I’m not.”
“Okay,” Jake continued, his smile returning. “Let’s do it.”
“Jake,” Missy said with a nervous laugh. “Let me get my bearings with this job. First day, remember? I’m still trying to get a handle on this.”
“Right, right,” said Jake, backing off a bit. “No pressure. I do know, though, that your father is itching to get this project off the ground. I don’t think either of us wants to disappoint him.”
“Certainly not,” Missy agreed.
“Then we’re in agreement,” Jake said with a sly smile. “Let me show you a few things on my laptop over here,” he said, motioning for Missy to follow him toward a table off to the side in the warehouse.
Jake walked, and Missy, after a moment of hesitation, followed.
“I’ve got some ideas on how we can get the big dogs on board,” said Jake. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”
“All right,” said Missy. She was uneasy about it all, but she went along with it anyway.
It was just her first day and things were already feeling strange at the winery.
Some days later, Missy showed up at Dunn’s house almost unable to control her excitement. His cryptic text implied that he found what they were looking for, and Missy was bursting to lay her eyes on the shooter. It had been all she could think about for days. They were cracking this case wide open, something it didn’t appear the police had any intention of doing.
Dunn’s office was upstairs, with a big window that looked out onto the street in front of his house. Since moving in, he had slowly decorated the office. His desk sat up against the window, and it now had more personal affects sitting upon it. In addition to his laptop, and an attached flat-panel monitor, he had some bookends made out of steel railroad ties with a few books between them. He had an overlarge set of audiophile headphones. He had a small black leather-bound notebook. And he had his phone stacked on top of his wallet.
There was a dark brown leather loveseat against the wall opposite his desk, with a circular wooden table made from a burl. Dunn had put up some artwork on the walls, which had a decidedly nautical theme. As Missy followed Dunn into his office, she looked around with a curious smile on her face. The office felt very comfortable, very lived-in. It was exactly what she had expected from Dunn.
“I’m about to flip my lid,” said Missy. “Seriously, I don’t think I can hold it all in anymore.”
“All right,” said Dunn, sitting down in his office chair and pulling himself up to the desk. He unlocked his laptop and brought up a folder he had prepared with the videos. “I don’t want you to explode all over my office.” Missy laughed.
“I’m about to make a mess, Dunn,” she said. “Show me the guy.”
Dunn chuckled and loaded up a video. He dragged the progress bar forward, and the two of them watched the typical goings-on of a parking lot in fast-forward. Soon, though, Dunn stopped and let the video play at normal speed. Together they watched. They saw the two black cars. They saw the shooter approach the victim. Just as he drew his gun, Dunn hit the spacebar to pause it.
Missy stared deeply into the screen. She rubbed her chin inquisitively.
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��It’s not the guy from the shooting range,” she said.
“Nope,” said Dunn.
“It’s a totally different guy,” Missy went on. “You were right about the goatee.”
“Do you recognize him at all?” Dunn asked. “If the victim sitting in his car was involved in the wine industry, this has got to be over something industry-related. I was thinking maybe you would know this man.”
“No,” said Missy, still looking into the monitor, shaking her head. “I don’t recognize him at all.”
“Some sort of hitman, maybe?” Dunn posited. “A hired gun?”
“Yeah, possible,” said Missy. “But look,” she said, finally breaking her gaze from the screen and looking into Dunn’s eyes. “Just because my family’s really involved in the industry, that doesn’t mean I know anything. I’ve avoided it for most of my life. It’s only the last couple days that I’m in it. This guy—who knows?—he could be a recognizable figure to someone else.”
“I don’t think we can show this video to anyone else,” said Dunn. “Considering how we got it.”
“Right,” Missy agreed. “Maybe we just drop it off at the police station?”
“They’d see us on their own security cameras,” said Dunn. “And besides, I’m not completely convinced that the police are doing their due diligence in solving this one. I’ve been thinking about it, and this murder has really felt like it’s just been swept under the rug. It’s tourist season, after all, and I don’t think they want to upset either the tourists, or the full-time community here, with a murder.”
“That’s a pretty big indictment, Dunn,” said Missy.
“I could be wrong,” said Dunn. “Then again, we have this video. And it really wasn’t all that hard to get it.”
“I mean, this video not only shows a murder,” said Missy. “But also an attempted murder. On the two of us. We’ve got the guy’s face. This guy is screwed.”
“Maybe,” said Dunn. “But maybe the victim… maybe his death is convenient for all parties. That shot he fired at us—I watched the video a hundred times—it doesn’t even come close to us. That was just a warning shot to divert our attention, maybe so we couldn’t really get a good look at his face. He wasn’t trying to kill us. He was just trying to scare us off.”
“Well, still,” Missy went on. “He killed a man. If we find him and deliver him to the police, they’ll have to lock him up. If not the local cops, the FBI. Someone in law enforcement.”
“Yeah,” agreed Dunn. “I think there’s a lot more to this story than we can even know. I think that this was probably a hit, something about the wine industry. I think that whoever’s in charge at the marina was probably in on it. I think the police are backing off of it for some reason or another. This is a pretty messed up situation.”
“What are you saying, Dunn?”
“I’m saying that…” he started, pausing for a moment as he thought of the words. “We’ve been shot at, stalked, my house was broken into, and we were threatened in person. I think maybe we’re in over our heads.”
“But this guy got killed,” said Missy with anger welling up, pointing at the still-paused video on the screen. “That’s a big deal. Someone’s got to bring justice. We can’t have this kind of stuff going down in Traverse City. Not in my town. Dunn. I don’t appreciate getting shot at, even if it wasn’t ever meant to actually hit me.”
“I’m with you,” said Dunn. “I didn’t move here to put up with this kind of shit. Believe me, I dealt with it in Chicago. Even in the nice neighborhoods, you play the game ‘fireworks or gunshots.’ I came up here to leave that element behind. But I’m not a cop. I’m a retired infosec executive. Those are two very disparate professions.”
“That’s not true,” Missy countered. “Your detective work was just done on a computer. It’s a similar skillset, just in a different realm. You can figure problems out. You got us these videos even after someone tried to delete them.”
“Yeah, but I’m not looking to be shot at,” said Dunn. “I’m not looking to be threatened. I want a casual, easy life. I’m seeing this woman now. I’m working on my house. I’m trying to get my life back together.”
“I’m disappointed,” said Missy, crossing her arms. “After we’ve been through so much, you just want to give up on it.”
“I don’t know what to do,” said Dunn. “Say we find this guy, then what? We turn him in? That’s only going to cause us more problems. Whoever’s in charge of all this, they’ll know it’s us. It’s a trap, Missy. You even said yourself the wine industry around here is sort of run like the mafia—”
“I don’t think I said that,” Missy interrupted. “It’s family-run, it’s tightly knit. I’ve never been aware of shootings—of hits—like this.”
“Regardless,” said Dunn, putting up his hands. “I’m not looking to get killed. I’ve got to back out of this. We should have never snuck into the server room at the marina. We should have listened to that guy who threatened us.”
“Give me those videos,” said Missy. “Do you have a little USB thing you can put them on for me?”
“I don’t know if I should,” said Dunn. “For your own protection.”
“Just give it to me, Dunn,” said Missy. “I don’t need your help.”
Dunn rolled his eyes. Turning back to his computer, he picked up a USB key from his desk and stuck it into the appropriate slot. Grabbing the folder from his desktop, he dragged it over to the USB drive. The transfer was quick. Once it was finished, Dunn yanked it from the laptop and handed it to Missy.
“Thank you,” she said, pushing it into her pocket. “I promise you I’m not going to get into any trouble.”
“What should I do if you end up like the guy in the car?” Dunn said.
“Just forget about me, Dunn,” Missy barked, obviously upset with this turn of events. “I’ve got pull in this town. My family is big around here. I can bring justice without your help.”
“Just be safe,” said Dunn. “That’s all I ask.”
Reaching around her back, Missy slid her pistol from the holster she had hidden in her waistband. She held up the gun to show Dunn she was serious.
“These guys aren’t going to intimidate me,” she said. Dunn, unsure of her intentions, slowly raised his palms up. “Oh stop!” Missy said. “I’m not going to point this thing at you, Dunn. You’re my friend, asshole.” She grumbled and put her gun back in the holster.
“Well, you did draw a gun—”
“I didn’t draw a gun,” said Missy. “It was for effect. I’m trying to let you know that I’m serious about this.”
Dunn raised his eyebrows and shrugged.
“Just… screw you, Dunn,” Missy carried on. “You take that class, get your CPL, and we’ll get you a handgun, too. Call me when you’re ready. I’m out of here.”
Missy, still in a huff, turned from Dunn’s desk and began walking toward the door of the office.
“Missy,” Dunn called after her. She paused, and turned.
“Yeah?”
“I’m not trying to be an asshole,” he said. “I’m just worried about our safety at this point. I think it’s time to let this one go.”
“We’ll see,” said Missy. She left the office, upset with Dunn’s decision, and disappeared. Dunn could hear her footsteps as she stomped down his stairs. It didn’t feel good to back out like that. But he knew he’d taken this too far already, and it would be smart to leave it all alone.
Missy had other plans.
After parking in a visitor spot, Dunn climbed the stairs to the second floor of the apartment building. It was a sprawling complex, made up of newer, condo-like apartments. Each building was three apartments high, with the first apartment being ground level. It was a quaint complex, appointed with a light blue-grey siding, faux-brick, and a shingled roof with dormers over the outdoor stairwells.
As Dunn came up to the top floor, he saw a young boy of around twelve, sitting crosslegged against a wall near the apa
rtment that Dunn knew to be Brooke’s. The boy was playing a handheld video game, and he didn’t even look up when Dunn neared. When Dunn got a look at him, he knew right away who he was. The kid looked a lot like his mother.
“Hey, squirt,” said Dunn.
“Did you just call me squirt?” the boy asked. Dunn felt a little embarrassed. He didn’t have much experience with children.
“I did,” Dunn said. “Are you Logan?”
“Yes,” Logan admitted. “Who are you?”
“I’m a friend of your mom’s,” he said. “My name’s Gannon. I’m here to pick her up. She said you would be with your dad.”
“Yeah, I’m supposed to go with him,” said Logan. He sighed annoyedly and tossed his video game aside. “They’re inside fighting right now. You have a weird name.”
“They are?” said Dunn, feeling a new sense of urgency. He stepped closer to the apartment door and he listened. There was a faint sound of two voices speaking firmly at one another, but it didn’t sound dire.
“They don’t get along anymore,” said Logan. Dunn moved back over toward him.
“I heard,” said Dunn. “So why are you out here?”
“I don’t want to listen to it,” said Logan.
“Smart kid,” Dunn said.
“Are you my mom’s boyfriend?” Logan asked.
“You could say that,” Dunn admitted. “Hey, sorry I called you squirt. Truthfully, I don’t really know how to interact with kids all that well. I don’t have any, and you’re kind of a strange species to me.”
“Sorry I said your name was weird,” said Logan.
“Let’s start again,” said Dunn with a small smile. “Name’s Gannon Dunn.” He stuck his hand down toward Logan.
“Logan,” said Logan, shaking Dunn’s hand.
“It’s good to meet you, Logan.”
“Thanks,” Logan said.
“Do you think your mom needs help in there?” Dunn asked. “Or should we just wait it out?”
“I just wait it out,” said Logan.
“So it never gets… bad or anything?”
“No,” said Logan.
“Okay,” Dunn said, satisfied with Logan’s summation. He crossed his arms and nodded.