The sisters returned and sat across from Sara.
“That’s a very generous offer,” Emily said, “but I’m afraid we’ll have to pass.”
“May I ask why?”
“We don’t want to be employees ever again,” Emily said.
“I see, but you would still be running things.”
“We like being in control and we did found this paper, well, we founded a blog, but it became a weekly newspaper as well,” Amy said.
“I think I could make Street View a force again,” Sara said, then added, “No offense.”
“No offense taken,” Emily said. “The glory days of Street View are obviously behind us.”
They grew quiet as Sara considered their words.
“I have a second offer. Let me buy in at forty-nine percent, while you each keep twenty-five and a half each, that way, you’ll maintain controlling interest and I don’t have to pay your salary.”
“That’s a better offer,” Emily admitted. “But we couldn’t get by on half of what we make.”
“I understand, and I won’t take any proceeds until the business generates a net profit that’s double what you currently make.”
“Are you serious?” the sisters said in stereo.
“Yes I am.”
The Sharpe sisters excused themselves again and when they returned, Emily extended her hand to Sara.
“We accept, send us a formal offer under those terms and we’ll pass it on to our lawyer to look at.”
“All right, but I want to move fast on this, very fast.”
“This story you say you have, can you give us a hint?”
“I’ll just say this; the mob and the financial world have been getting cozy.”
“You have proof of this?”
“No hard evidence as of yet, but I uncovered this in my former role as an FBI agent.”
“This is dynamite, isn’t it?” Amy asked.
“Yes, and it will attract attention. Does that frighten you?”
The sisters grinned.
“Hell Sara, we live for it,” Emily said.
55
The Brothers Dim
BROOKLYN, NEW YORK
Hours later, Sara watched as Merle and Earl Carter wandered among the cars in the parking lot of a supermarket.
It was the third parking lot she had followed them to and while she at first thought that they were searching for a particular model of car to steal, she soon realized they were looking for an easy car to steal. One where the owner had left the vehicle unlocked and the keys inside.
That told her that they had no skill as car thieves, but it also told her they were persistent. She had been filming them from her own car and when Earl signaled to his older brother, she knew they had at last gotten lucky.
She started her engine and moved toward their position slowly, while keeping the camera trained on them. After Merle joined his brother and they backed their stolen prize out of its parking spot, she put the camcorder down and blocked their exit by driving directly at them.
Earl avoided a head-on collision by slamming on the brakes and the two brothers glared at her through the windshield of their stolen car.
When Merle recognized her, he turned to his brother and said three words. “She’s a Fed.”
Sara pointed back at the parking space the boys had just pulled out of, and with a sigh, Earl backed the vehicle into it. Whether the car’s absent-minded owner would have returned and realized the vehicle was facing the other way was anyone’s guess, but the brothers left the car with the keys in it and trudged over toward Sara.
She had parked her car as well, and when they reached her, she showed them the video of their felony.
Merle looked up from the camcorder screen and gazed around in confusion. “Where’s all the other Feds?”
Sara smiled at him. “Luckily for you I’m no longer in law enforcement, but I can hand over this video to them at any time.”
Earl had been staring at her legs, but he raised his eyes and asked a question.
“What do you want from us, lady?”
“Tanner. I want to find Tanner and you two are going to help me do just that.”
Merle and Earl raised their hands and waved them as if they were refusing seconds at a cookout.
“No way,” Merle said. “That damn Tanner almost got us killed and it’s a miracle he didn’t do it himself. Hand in that damn video and we’ll take our chances.”
“I’m willing to pay,” Sara said and saw a spark of interest enter the brothers’ eyes.
“How much?” Merle said.
“One thousand a month, and all I want you to do is keep your eyes and ears open and let me know if you hear any news on Tanner.”
“A grand a month for that, that’s it?”
“Yes, but you’ll also need to put yourselves where you’ll be likely to hear such news.”
Earl squinted at her. “And where would that be?”
“You need to get in close with Johnny R. He wants Tanner dead for what he did to his uncle, Al Rossetti, and he’s the best chance I have to track Tanner down.”
Merle shook his head. “Johnny R is a made man. He’d never hang with me and Earl.”
“I don’t need you to become his best friends, but I do need you to become part of his organization. That way, you’ll be in a position to hear things.”
Merle pointed back at the car they had stolen. “We were goin’ to take that to one of Johnny R’s chop shops. Once we get there, we could bullshit and maybe learn somethin’.”
Sara stared at the three-year-old Volvo the boys had stolen. After coming to a decision, she took out a slip of paper that had a cell phone number written on it. She held out the paper and spoke to Merle.
“Take the damn car and give me a call at that number when you hear anything.”
Merle took the slip of paper and grinned. “What about the money?”
“Come up with some info and I’ll give you your first payment.”
Merle and Earl exchanged glances and something unsaid passed between them.
“We want more than a grand. How about six hundred for each of us?”
Sara smiled her agreement. When she said a thousand a month, she had been talking about a thousand apiece. The brothers had just bargained themselves into getting less money.
“I want to hear from you soon, you got it?”
“Yes ma’am, we don’t like Tanner either, but what are you gonna do once you find him?”
Sara stared at them with cold eyes. “I’m going to make that bastard wish he had never been born.”
The brothers exchanged glances again and this time the thought they shared was one of gratitude. They were grateful that they weren’t Tanner, for they had no doubt that Sara meant to make her words come true.
56
Go To New York And Die
Rafe Green felt his mother tremble as she sobbed against his chest, while they stood beside his brother’s bed.
Jerome Green lay in a coma after the beating he received at the Reynolds’ lumber mill. The doctors didn’t know if he would ever awaken.
Rafe caught his sister’s eye and she nodded in understanding. Afterwards, she guided their mother away to the cafeteria where she could pull herself together. That left him alone with his sister-in-law and he hoped to get answers from her.
“What have the cops said about this, Rita?”
Rita Green gazed up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Jerome and the other men were beaten by five men dressed in black and wearing ski masks. They even have video, but they can’t identify them.”
“The last time I spoke to Jerome he told me that Reynolds had hired a new security firm, and he also mentioned that a man named Monroe had tried to intimidate them.”
Rita nodded. She was a light-skinned black woman with large hazel eyes and long hair.
“I asked the Sheriff about that and he said that those security people all have alibis. They were seen drinking in the Tree Top Pub unt
il closing, even that man, Monroe, so it must have been someone else that did this to Jerome.”
“Reynolds hired outsiders to cover for their outsiders, it’s clever, and I would guess they assume that no one will ever be able to prove anything.”
Rita sniffled. “I don’t care who hurt him. I just want Jerome to get better.”
Rafe bent over and kissed the top of his sister-in-law’s head.
“Jerome’s tough, baby, you’ll see. He’ll come out of this coma, and in the meantime, don’t worry about a thing. If you need money or help with the kids, the family is here for you.”
Rita took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you, Rafe.”
Rafe left Rita with Jerome and headed for his car. He needed answers and was going to get them one way or another.
Chuck Monroe lived in an apartment complex in Summervale that catered to young professionals.
At forty-one, Monroe was pushing the young part, and as hired muscle, he was also not what most would consider a professional, but Monroe liked the building and had dated more than one of his young female neighbors.
Monroe had a bodybuilder’s physique, wore jeans and T-shirts and kept his blond crew cut ultra-short, so that the gray at his temples was less noticeable.
Around his apartment building, he was known as a man you didn’t mess with, but the morning after Jerome Green was beaten into a coma, Monroe’s reputation took a serious beating as well.
Monroe walked toward his car in the parking lot of his complex and found Rafe sitting on the hood.
“Hey buddy, get off my damn car.”
“My name is Rafe Green. I’m Jerome Green’s brother.”
“Yo, Green, I didn’t lay a finger on your brother. Ask anyone, I was at the pub until closing.”
“So I heard, but you know something about what happened and I’m not leaving here until you tell me what that is.”
Monroe stepped closer to Rafe and glared with malice. “Get the fuck off my car before you get hurt.”
Rafe had been leaning back on the car, a blue vintage Pontiac Firebird, with his palms flat on the hood. His weight shifted onto his left hand, as his right fist caught Monroe on the chin. Monroe took a step back, shook his head and threw a right of his own.
Rafe was off the car, blocked the punch, then delivered a second punch to Monroe’s midsection, followed by a third, fourth, and fifth in rapid succession.
Monroe dropped to his knees and barfed up the bagel and eggs he had eaten for breakfast.
Two of his neighbors stood by staring at him. Both were young women nearly half his age. When Monroe saw the laughter in their eyes, it hurt more than Rafe’s punches had, because he knew the story of his beating would spread and make him the butt of jokes.
In a fit of rage, he jumped to his feet and lunged at Rafe. Rafe stepped aside with ease and Monroe landed atop the hood of the Trans Am.
Rafe bent down and whispered into his ear. “You’re a big, strong guy, but you have little skill. I’m trained in both karate and judo, and as an army MP, I handled guys like you as a matter of course. Stop fighting, tell me what you know and keep at least some of your dignity.”
Rafe straightened and waited. Monroe lay atop the hood for a few seconds before turning over and sliding down into a position much like the one Rafe was in when Monroe first saw him.
“New York City.”
“What about New York City?”
“The guys that hurt your brother were from New York. I don’t know their names, but I heard that the crew leader was named Joe Puller, or something like that.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah, they’re mob guys.”
“Mob? Like the Mafia?”
Monroe shrugged his massive shoulders. “That’s what I heard, so brother or not, you might want to drop it.”
“They hurt my brother, there’s no dropping it. And if you’re thinking of telling anybody about this conversation, I wouldn’t. They might consider you a loose end and they also don’t like snitches.”
Monroe gave him a look of hatred. “Go to New York, you’ll die there.”
“We’ll see,” Rafe said, and then he walked past the pair of gawking young ladies and headed home to prepare for his trip to New York.
57
Semper Fi
Days later, with preparations made and his family coming to terms dealing with his brother’s condition, Rafe loaded his suitcases into his car.
He was going to New York City to deal with the people who had hurt his brother. He was just about to leave when John Murphy parked across the street.
When Murphy exited his jeep, Rafe saw that Murphy was with his son, Robin.
Rafe knew both of them because John and Robin Murphy were members of the same church his mother attended, and Rafe and John had worked together on a charity drive. They also shared a military background. Rafe was Army, while John had been a Marine.
Rafe shook both their hands while noticing that Robin looked uneasy.
“What’s up, guys?”
John gestured at Rafe’s apartment. He looked like an older, more world-weary version of his son, and his dark hair had streaks of gray.
“Why don’t we go in and talk.”
With beer and soft drinks in hand, John encouraged Robin to begin, and the boy told Rafe everything he knew about the night his brother was beaten.
“A Hummer?” Rafe asked Robin.
Robin handed Rafe a New York State license plate number written on a strip of paper.
“It was a black Hummer; that’s the plate number and all five of those guys had New York accents. I saw them again as I was leaving, and I heard them call the young one Carmine, but the one who did most of the talking, he was called Joe.”
“And the man who called you, his name was Al Trent?”
“Yes sir.”
“Why didn’t you tell this to the cops?”
“I told him not to,” John said. “His bosses told him to keep quiet about it as well. The last thing I want is for Robin to get beaten like Jerome did.”
“But you’re telling me, why?”
John looked over at his son. “Robin, please wait for me in the jeep. I’ll be right there.”
“Okay, Dad, and Mr. Green, I’m sorry about what happened to your brother.”
Robin was nearly at the door when he remembered something. He walked back to Rafe and handed him the money that Joe Pullo had given him.
“They tried to buy me with that. You use it. Maybe it will help with your brother’s medical costs, at least a little.”
Rafe stood and hugged the kid. “Thanks Robin, for everything.”
After Robin left the apartment, John asked Rafe a question.
“You’re going after them, aren’t you?”
“I am, and thanks to you and your son, I’ll have a lot easier time tracking them down.”
“They don’t strike me as men that would be easy to get the better of, maybe you should rethink things.”
Rafe took a deep breath and slowly released it. “No. I’m going to make the bastards pay, and if possible, I’ll prove Reynolds was behind the attack.”
John sighed. “Old man Reynolds would be spinning in his grave if he knew what became of his company.”
Rafe stood. “I need to get going. I want to be in New York tonight.”
“I wish you luck, brother, and Rafe, don’t get yourself killed.”
“That’s not part of the plan, but nobody fucks with my family and just walks away.”
John grinned and punched him on the shoulder.
“Are you sure you weren’t a Marine?”
58
Daddy’s Girl
In New York City, Frank Richards left his limo and saw his daughter rushing toward him, her face lit with rage.
One of his bodyguards grabbed her by the arm and stopped her progress, but Richards waved the man off and Madison Richards kept coming until she was standing before her father. She was Richards’ only ch
ild from his second wife and had been unwanted by Richards.
The petite young woman had her mother’s dark curls, but wore his mother’s angelic face, and it was that face that kept Richards from hating her outright. Richards had loved his late mother dearly and his daughter always reminded him of her. Unfortunately, she also reminded him of his late wife, a woman he grew to despise and ordered killed.
“Another one quit, Daddy, did you pay him off too?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The private detective I hired. The third one, as a matter of fact, and he just up and quit for no reason like the other two, only he looked scared, so I guess maybe you threatened him instead of buying him, hmm?”
“You need to stop this insane quest of yours and accept facts. Your mother died in a drunk driving accident. She drank too much and ran off the road.”
“Mom wasn’t a drunk and there was no reason for her to be out on that back road in the early morning. Why can’t you see that there’s something odd there?”
Richards took his daughter by the elbow and yanked her to the rear of the limo.
“Enough, Madison! That’s enough. Either you accept what happened or I’ll toss you to the curb.”
“You’re disowning me?”
“You’ve graduated college, gotten your own apartment, you’re an adult, but you’re not independent. I’ll have your car taken away and cancel your accounts. Your mother died in an accident and that’s all you need to know.”
Madison wiped at tears. “I know you didn’t like each other anymore, that you were getting divorced, but did… did, did you kill her, Daddy? Is that why you’re so afraid of me learning the truth?”
Richards made a sharp intake of breath and broke eye contact. Madison backed away from him, as her face crumbled.
“Oh, Daddy, no, no you didn’t.”
The Tanner Series - Books 1-11: Tanner - The hit man with a heart Page 17