The Tanner Series - Books 1-11: Tanner - The hit man with a heart

by Remington Kane

  “No, I just want to spend more time with you.”

  Susan laughed and stood up. “I’ll go get you another beer.”

  Tanner watched her go, liking the view, and his bad mood vanished like smoke in a breeze.

  330

  Welcome To Rainberry

  Sammy had been having so much fun on his rented Harley that he hadn’t realized he’d been speeding, that is, until he spotted the flashing lights in the mirror, which were soon joined by a siren.

  He pulled over while cursing his stupidity. He was in Tennessee under a phony name for the purpose of committing murder, and before he even reached his destination he was coming to the attention of the police.

  After removing his helmet, he took out his fake license and cursed Tanner once again for choosing the name, Jack Koff. To his shock, the cop opened her door and leveled her weapon at him.

  “Get down on the ground, now!”

  A dozen different thoughts passed through Sammy’s mind, including a scenario that involved Tanner setting him up. However, he pushed his paranoia aside and did as the cop said, to lie flat on the roadway with his arms held out in front of him.

  When a tractor-trailer passed by coming the other way, it blew up a storm of grit that blinded Sammy. The cop was on him while he was still blinking his eyes free of the debris, and before he realized it, she had cuffed his hands behind his back.

  “What’s going on? All I did was speed a little.”

  “Be quiet,” the cop said, then she went through his saddlebags and backpack.

  Sammy studied her while she did so and saw that she was a young blonde woman with a no-nonsense expression. The seriousness of her demeanor didn’t take away from her beauty, nor did her mannish uniform hide her curves.

  Sammy had dropped the driver’s license. When the woman read it, she seemed to relax a bit.

  “Mr. …Koff? What is the purpose for your visit to Rainberry?”

  “I’m here to meet a friend, why?”

  “Are you a member of the Calabrese Motorcycle Club?”

  “No, and the bike is rented.”

  The cop studied the bike, and when she spotted the sticker denoting the name of the rental company in Nashville, she looked abashed. The handcuffs came off quicker than they went on, and when she handed Sammy back his license, he saw that her cheeks were red.

  “I apologize for the treatment, sir, but we’ve a group of bikers raising a ruckus around here lately.”

  “What kind of ruckus?”

  “We suspect them of being involved with drug running, but never mind that, you just get on your way, and I apologize again for the cuffs.”

  Sammy blinked. “Wow, you’re a lot nicer than most cops. Where I come from, you’d never hear a cop apologize for anything.”

  The cop shrugged. “I was wrong.”

  Sammy saw that her name tag read Sawyer, but he asked her first name.

  “It’s Amy… and are you hitting on me?”

  “I was just curious. I have a girlfriend.”

  “Lucky girl. Now you slow down, you hear?”

  “I hear, and you be careful with those bikers.”

  Sammy watched Amy climb into her patrol car and then rode along behind her on his bike. One of the things Pullo had told him before he left was that Bobby Volks always rode a motorcycle, even during the winter.

  Maybe Volks was part of the Calabrese Motorcycle Club. If so, they would soon be short one member.

  331

  Dumb And Dumber Meet Blonde And Blonder

  “Phony? What do you mean that it’s phony?” Hanna Cole said.

  Chief of Police Wilbur Meadows looked as if he swallowed something bad, and after burping, the lanky, gray-haired gentleman settled behind his desk. He then asked Hanna and Savannah to take seats in front of it, as Merle and Earl stood to their right.

  “The state records department shows that these two here are the rightful owners of that property. They may not have been living there, but they kept up the taxes, so it’s theirs.”

  “We paid taxes too.” Hanna said. “We prepaid ahead for two years. Our real estate lady handled it.”

  Chief Meadows leaned forward. “Who sold you that property and when?”

  “She was a nice woman. Her name was Mrs. Loyola Smith. We ran into her when we were lookin’ for a place to buy and she pointed us at that land.”

  “Oh Lordy, I was afraid of that. Mrs. Loyola Smith was a con woman named Lois Simmons. She’s dead now, killed by one of her partners. She used that real estate woman act to identify houses for her partners to rob. You two are the first I’ve heard of that bought a house from her.”

  Savannah wiped at her eyes. “Our deed is really a fake?”

  “Yes ma’am, I’m afraid so.”

  Hanna sniffled, and wiped at her own tears. “But we paid for it and then we put a lot of money into that place too. I’ve got a little garden in the back, the crops are doin’ nicely—do we at least get to keep the crops?”

  “I’m no lawyer, but my guess is that it would be up to the two Mr. Carters here.”

  Hanna gazed over at Merle and Earl with eyes full of sorrow. “We’re sorry; we didn’t know the property was really yours.”

  “You two hungry?” Merle asked.

  “What?” Hanna said.

  “Food. Earl and me are starvin’ and there’s a McDonald’s right down the road. Why don’t we go there and talk things over?”

  “You ain’t mad at us?” Hanna asked.

  Merle let out a sigh. “Me and Earl been tricked a time or two, so we know how it feels. Hell, we’ll think of somethin’, but let’s go eat.”

  Hanna looked at her sister and saw that Savannah was smiling at Earl.

  “All right, we’ll go eat, but we pay,” Hanna said.

  They told the chief goodbye and headed for the door. As they were walking out, a female deputy entered the chief’s office. Once the foursome had departed, the deputy asked a question.

  “Were those two sets of twins that just left here?”

  The chief laughed. “No, but they’re darn close, aren’t they?”

  “I’ll say.”

  After calling Laurel and getting her opinion, Merle and Earl offered the Cole sisters a deal while they ate.

  “Our sister, Laurel Lee, she agreed with us that it wouldn’t be right to kick you out of the house. So why don’t you two stay there while me and Earl live in that old motor home I saw?”

  “That’s fine for now, Merle, but what about the future and all the money we put in that house?” Hanna said.

  “You could rent it from us cheap.”

  “I don’t wanna rent, it’s why I bought a house,” Hanna said.

  Savannah smiled at Earl. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

  “Sometimes,” Earl said, and then he smiled back at her.

  After swallowing the last of her French fries, Hanna asked Merle a question.

  “Could we buy the house from you, you know, real cheap? After all, we put all the work and money into it.”

  “I don’t wanna sell. Me and Earl were born there, and so was our daddy.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” Hanna said.

  “I do,” said Savannah. “I wanna go to the movies.”

  “How’s that going to help?” her sister asked.

  “It’ll take our minds off of things. Do you wanna go, Earl?”

  Earl nodded as he grinned stupidly at Savannah.

  “All right, then let’s go. The picture should be starting soon.”

  “We’ll follow you,” Merle said.

  Once they were in their car alone, Savannah grabbed her sister’s arm.

  “Earl is mine, do you hear me?”

  “You can have him; Merle’s cuter.”

  “Un-uh.”

  “Um-hmm.”

  “Un-uh.”

  “Um-hmm.”

  “Un-uh.”

  “Um-hmm.”

  Inside the boys’ rented car, a simi
lar exchange was taking place.

  “Savannah is cute,” Earl said.

  “You can keep her; I like the blonde one.”

  “They’s both blonde, Merle.”

  “Yeah, but Hanna’s hotter.”

  “Un-uh.”

  “Um-hmm.”

  “Un-uh.”

  “Um-hmm.”

  “Un-uh.”

  “Um-hmm.”

  And so it went.

  332

  Dirty Boy

  Susan Holmes’ bed & breakfast was quaint and sat near a small stream.

  There was a clearing behind the house, and way off in the distance Tanner could see a section of the Great Smoky Mountains.

  When she took him inside to see his room, he found the space clean, homey-looking, and the bathroom was equipped with an old-fashioned clawfoot bathtub. There was also a fireplace, although the weather was temperate.

  “What do you think?” Susan said.

  “Beautiful,” Tanner said, as his eyes locked on hers.

  Susan smiled. “I was talking about the room.”

  “It’s very nice, and much better than a hotel room.”

  “I hope you like lasagna, because that’s what I’m serving tonight.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “And oh yes, there’s one other guest, but she’s long-term. I’ll introduce you two over dinner.”

  “What time is dinner?”

  “Six-thirty, and you don’t have to watch that small TV; there’s a wide flat-screen in the living room.”

  “Thanks, but I’m more of a reader than a watcher.”

  “Me too, and I’ll see you around.”

  “Thank you.”

  After Susan left, Tanner took off his jacket and tie, then he sat on the side of the bed to call Sammy.

  “Where are you, Tanner?”

  “There’s been a change of plans. I’m staying at a bed & breakfast on Hooper Avenue.”

  “Why?”

  “Better food,” Tanner said, although he was hoping to appease other appetites with Susan Holmes.

  “Should I come there?”

  “You haven’t checked in yet?”

  “No, I ah, got delayed.”

  “Fine, then come here, and just say that someone recommended the place to you,” Tanner told Sammy, then Sammy relayed the news about the biker club.

  “I can see Bobby Volks as a drug dealer, so yeah, I’ll check it out.”

  “Maybe I should go. I am the one with the motorcycle.”

  “Show up on a rented bike? You might as well ride a tricycle.”

  “All right, but you remember why we’re here. Volks is mine.”

  “I hear you, Sammy, and I’ll see you soon.”

  Tanner put away the phone and headed for the shower. On the way there, he spotted the door that connected his room to the one on the left. He opened it and found another door, which was locked.

  He wondered if the room beyond the door belonged to Susan, and if so, would she make use of it to pay him a visit.

  After leaving the door on his side unlocked, Tanner headed into the bathroom to get clean, while thinking dirty thoughts.

  333

  Sinner Or Saint?

  WILMINGTON, DELAWARE, ELEVEN YEARS EARLIER

  “It’s a con! It’s got to be,” Joe Pullo said, as he and Tanner watched Reverend Carlo Conti enter the women’s shelter on Bennett Street. There was also a soup kitchen at the other end of the building, and a group of people were lined up outside for a free breakfast.

  Tanner read from the shelter’s brochure. “‘The mission of the Teresa R. Rowen women’s shelter is to prevent abuse, change families, and save lives.’ How do you build a con out of that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’s turning the women out somehow.”

  “That’s not what that madam said. She said Conti was the biggest pain in the ass she’s ever known, and that he actually talked three of her girls into giving up the life.”

  Pullo rubbed a hand over his chin. “People don’t change, Tanner, and Conti, he killed an innocent woman, remember?”

  “Yeah, so what do you want to do?”

  Pullo said nothing for several seconds as he stared across the street. Conti had come back outside with a woman and child. The child was hugging him around the neck as if he were Santa Claus.

  “I need to think about this… figure the con out.”

  “Why don’t we talk to some of the other people who work there?”

  “Nah, it might tip him off.”

  “I have another idea then, but it will cost you lunch at a good restaurant this afternoon.”

  “It’s on Sam’s dime, so what’s your idea?”

  The reporter turned out to be a tall blonde named Cassidy. She was giving Tanner ideas, but she seemed to have eyes only for Pullo, whom she smiled at frequently. They had contacted her with the story that they represented a family trust that was looking for worthy charities to donate to in the Wilmington area.

  “That women’s shelter has done wonderful things,” Cassidy told them. “I worked the crime beat in this city for three years, and I saw them save more than a few girls.”

  “The Reverend Conti, what do you know about him?”

  “The girls working the streets love him. He beat up a pimp once and the cops looked the other way. I personally know a girl that he talked into going back home. After she graduated high school she went to work in the shelter, and at night she studies to be a lawyer.”

  “Still,” Pullo said, “it seems odd, a man working inside a women’s shelter. Doesn’t it bother the women who come there?”

  Cassidy grinned. “You obviously haven’t met Reverend Carlo; he’s like a big teddy bear.”

  “Un-huh, anything else you can tell us?”

  Cassidy leaned across the table. “I could tell you more over dinner, but just us, no offense to your friend.”

  “None taken,” Tanner said, as he envied Pullo.

  “Where should I pick you up?” Pullo asked, and Cassidy gave him her address.

  After she left, Pullo saluted Tanner with his beer bottle.

  “You’re on your own tonight; I’ll be pumping Cassidy.”

  “For information?” Tanner asked.

  Pullo just smiled.

  334

  No Way To Treat A Lady

  WILMINGTON, DELAWARE, ELEVEN YEARS EARLIER

  With nothing else to do, Tanner staked out the women’s shelter that night.

  Pullo had the car, which placed Tanner on foot. He was wearing dark clothes with a hood, as he stayed back in the shadows of a burned-out building.

  He saw Conti twice, and each time there was a child nearby who hugged the big man as if he were a kindly old grandfather. The shelter was in a bad neighborhood, but Tanner noticed that everyone who walked past Conti greeted him with a smile or showed respect, even the gangbangers.

  If Conti were running a con, Tanner didn’t know what it was.

  After growing bored, he moved onto the sidewalk and began the trek back to the motel. When the same car drove past him twice and parked up ahead, he assumed it meant trouble.

  He was carrying a gun, but he had seen at least two silhouettes in the car, and if there were as many as four, Tanner wanted to even the odds by using the element of surprise.

  When the sidewalk curved and placed him in a blind spot to the men in the car, he left the street and began cutting through backyards as fast as he could. After traveling two houses farther down from where the car was parked, Tanner moved back toward the street and spotted two of the bodyguards from the whorehouse. They were both turned around in their seats and looking for him.

  The driver was the man Pullo had struck with the ashtray, while the passenger had his right arm in a sling and was likely the man who had tumbled down the stairs and dislocated his shoulder.

  Tanner cursed silently. This was a complication they didn’t need. They had obviously followed him from the shelter and had plans for hi
m. But had they just followed him, or had they followed both he and Pullo earlier?

  Tanner slipped from the shadows and spoke when he was six feet away from the car.

  “If either of you moves I’ll light you up.”

  Both men twitched, but it was from surprise, and not an attempt to use their weapons. Afterwards, they slowly turned their heads to look at him.

  “We just wanted to talk,” said the driver, and Tanner saw the huge lump on his forehead that resulted from the ashtray hitting him.

  “Let me see your hands.”

  The hands went up slowly. Tanner saw that the man in the passenger seat held a sawed-off shotgun in his left hand, while the driver carried a Beretta.

  “I see how you were going to talk. Toss the weapons in the back seat, and then I want the driver to get out.”

  “Why just me?”

  “Toss the guns. Do it now!”

  The men followed instructions because they had little choice. By the time they turned to face Tanner, they would be dead.

  Once the driver was out, Tanner had him stand in front of an overgrown hedge. Both men were dressed as he was, in dark clothing with a hood. The traffic was sporadic and there was no one in sight but the three of them; it wasn’t the sort of neighborhood where many people traveled on foot at night.

  “Are there men after my partner too?”

  “We only saw you,” said the man still sitting in the car.

  He seemed to be telling the truth, which meant they had just picked up his trail. It also meant that Pullo was in the clear.

  Tanner glanced into the car, saw the keys dangling in the ignition, and then shot the man in the passenger seat twice in the chest.

  When he swiveled around, he saw that the driver had run to his left, but the man couldn’t outrun a bullet, nor three of them.