by Ronnie Allen
“Whiskey, off the stage now!” The middle-aged balding, rotund, brusque manager wasn’t at all pleased with the talent for the evening, and she’d be the one he’d make an example of for the other dancers. He was pissed they had all chosen tonight to make an appearance for his stage. Usually there was one good one among the bunch, but tonight he’d lose money.
She jumped off. “Yeah, Yeah, I know all about it, Brett. Don’t even have to pay me for tonight. See ya!” She grabbed her purse that laid at the back corner of the stage.
He stared at her, not catching her agenda. “And don’t come back till ya get your act together.”
Her willingness to be dismissed so easily didn’t penetrate this numbskull at all. He didn’t even see where she went.
But John did, from the his room in the ICU.
“Sure thing,” she said, knowing Brett didn’t hear her.
She looked around for her mark for the night and spotted them in a corner. There were three of them, positioned strategically, where they could view the meat in the club from the best vantage point.
They were young, twentyish, cute, in a boyish way, certainly not manly. They sipped watered-down drinks, dressed alike, all in black from their unbuttoned rayon shirts showing minimal chest hair like they’d barely reached puberty, and skin-tight black leatherette jeans, with their hair greased up in spikes. The cool look. All but one, having a Coke, who looked more innocent than the rest, but more worn out. He was not the one she intended to approach. Young meant computer savvy and that’s what she needed. She realized it was too hot out there to contact her hacker, so she had resigned herself to finding new talent. “Hi, guys.”
“Hi there, honey.”
One of them was very intrigued and tried to be seductive beyond his years. Barbara decided to play with him even though she was just shy of twice his age.
“I may need your help. Are you game?”
“What kind of help, doll?” He got closer, peering down at her breasts. Salivating, he almost drooled right on her.
“Oh, sweetie, you are so cute.” She patted his cheek adoringly. “Here’s what I need.” She plucked a photo out of her tiny purse. “How are you on the computer, sweetie? I need to find their address.”
The intrigued one took it. He read the headline. “Dr. John Trenton and his gorgeous wife Vicki.”
The kid with the Coke gulped.
“She’s a looker. Why do you need to find him?”
“Well, sweetie pie.” She wasn’t thrilled with the question. She hated questions by anyone, but he deserved a nibble. “There’s ten grand in it if you can find his address with no questions asked from you or your friends. Deal?”
“I think I can do that. You definitely came to the right place, doll.” He laughed with confidence and an immature bravado. “Didn’t she, guys?”
They sounded so dumb. “Yeah, she sure did, AJ.”
“I can find anything, even personal stuff. My fingers on the keyboard sing, doll, and I don’t mean on a piano. Got the drift, doll?”
“Oh, sweetie.”
“How do I know you’ll pay up?”
“I’m a woman of my word.” She handed him a card with just a phone number. “Call me when you have what I need and don’t contact me if you don’t have it. I need it by ten a.m. A second later and the deal’s off. Got it?”
“Oh, yeah. I got it, doll.” She cringed at him even thinking he could have her and paraded away with an extra sexy wiggle. “This will be the easiest ten grand I’ll ever make.”
John moaned, still deeply under sedation. He stayed with the vision.
The kid with the Coke snatched the card. “Just wanna see the number.” He handed it back to his friend after he read it and committed it to memory. “I gotta go, guys. I have a curfew at this place.”
John wasn’t waking up. He followed Bobby outside.
***
As soon as Bobby was outside, he raced down the block, making sure he wasn’t followed. He breathed with a lot of effort and couldn’t get his mind to focus. But he must try, just like he’d been taught the last couple of weeks.
He leaned against the graffiti-filled wall, with his mind reeling, and rubbed his hands over his face. What had he just become involved in? Oh, man! This was going to thrust him backward. A decision like this, he didn’t want to have to make. It was his future. He had sacrificed his entire life. He’d lost his childhood, teens, and part of his young adult life. Now he could throw away the rest of it.
Oh, man. What should he do? He was never good at making decisions, least of all the right ones. That’s why he had been in trouble for all those years. Now, at twenty-two, he had a chance. Finally a chance. Why risk it now? He knew they would put him away in lock-up, possibly costing him his freedom for a long time. It had only been two weeks. They wouldn’t believe him. No one could change in two weeks. No one, before two weeks ago, had ever given him a chance.
He had to do it. He had to do it for the man who saved his life. He took out his cell and dialed.
The phone rang five times as he paced nervously, and the call transferred to voicemail. “Dr. Trenton. It’s Bobby. I know you’re gonna kill me and lock me up. I know. I know it for sure. Judge Marks hates me. I violated my probation. But this is urgent. Life and death urgent. You gotta call me as soon as you get this. I know it’s five a.m. and I should be at the house, but I’m not. Damn! Please call me.” He hung up with his body sliding down the side of the building and landed, sitting on the pavement, pulling his knees into his chest, and wrapping his arms around them. He concealed his head in his knees and sobbed, heart-wrenching sobs.
CHAPTER 45
Barbara exited the plane with a huge smile on her face. The two-hour-twenty-minute flight gave her the chance to rest and recoup. She’d donned a long brown hair wig tied back in a ponytail, perfect for Florida weather, with her natural bangs.
Her eyes were emerald and she was casually dressed in light blue denim crop jeans and a solid blue T-shirt. No cops picked her up. They didn’t know about her yet? The entire team on her case was dead. Who else knew about her? The thought of “no one” invigorated her. She held a light carry on and she couldn’t wait to get into the Florida sun.
As she waited in the long taxi line, she took out her iPad and looked up lodging in Serento. She located a Best Western not too far from Vicki’s address and dialed on her cell.
“Hi. I just landed in Tampa and I need a room. Single occupancy. Yes. Non-smoking please. I can be there in a couple of hours. Yes, of course, Susan Miller. Can I please give you my card number when I get there? I’m sort of around a lot of people and--Oh, thank you. Yes, I have ID. See you soon.”
Huh? It wouldn’t be that easy in New York.
Before long, she rode in a Lincoln Town Car, traveling ninety miles north, after paying the driver one-hundred-twenty bucks in advance. She checked her watch. Taking out her cell, she dialed.
***
Ricky scampered to answer the phone. “Dad?”
“Is this Vicki Trenton’s house?”
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“Sweetheart, I’m a friend of your dad’s. Is your mom there?”
“Yes. Hold on.” Vicki took the phone. “She says she’s a friend of John’s.”
“Hello.”
“Vicki?”
“Yes.”
“Hi, I’m so glad I reached you. I’m Susan Miller, a colleague of John’s at Sheepshead Medical.”
“Oh. Hi. Are you a psychiatrist?”
“No. I’m a school psychologist there and I work with teens in short term admissions.”
“Did he tell you to call me?” Right away Vicki thought John had referred Susan to work with Ricky, but why would he do that so quickly without even seeing him yet?
“No, but he gave me your number.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Why?”
“Why would he give you my number if he didn’t tell you to call?”
“Let me explain, because we might be on the wrong track here.”
“Please do.”
“I just landed in Tampa. I’m looking around the area for a nice serene adult community for my parents. John told me how peaceful it is by you and wooded. My parents love the Adirondacks, but it’s way too cold for them year round, and south Florida is way too crowded. So he thought this area would be great for them, and my father loves golf.”
“Yes, we were on the wrong track, Susan, sorry.”
“Trust me, I’m not sleeping with your husband. Mine is possessive enough.”
“I wasn’t thinking of that either.” Why would she go there? Something isn’t right here.
“Oh. Can we do lunch or something? I’m staying at the Best Western in Serento.”
“Sure. That’s not far from me. How long will you be in town?”
“Just a couple of days.”
“Perfect. How about coming over for dinner tonight, around seven? I’m making a country barbeque.”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you! What’s the exact address?”
***
In John’s hospital room, a couple of detectives he didn’t know surrounded him, but they knew of him--John the player, John the moronic risk taker--and boy was he one last night. What was a civilian doing in a situation like that? What did he have to prove?
To them, this was one shrink who had more than his own share of issues.
They were able to access the forensics and all of the police files in hard copy, that had loaded up three boxes, which alone were more than overwhelming. Lex Withers, with twelve years on the force, was a top-notch investigator with his newbie partner Bella Richards, who just made the rank, and neither was thrilled with taking on this case in its escalated proportion. They were told they could wait in John’s room until he woke up, and he still wasn’t stirring. A nurse entered to check the IV.
“Can’t you give this dude somethin’ to wake him up? We gotta get on this case.”
“Sorry, Detective, he has to wake up on his own. He probably needed this sleep badly.” The nurse removed the wrist and ankle restraints.
“Well, so do I, and my little partner here ain’t used to the long hours yet.”
The nurse smiled and walked out without responding.
Withers looked at the door before going over to the side of the bed and putting his hand on John’s shoulder. “Come on Trenton, wake up. You’ve had more sleep than us.”
John began to stir and moan, and he opened his eyes. “Whoa.” He moved his eyes around but couldn’t focus. “How long was I out?”
“Close to seven hours. I’m Withers. She’s Richards. We got the case now. Real sorry to hear about your team. They were good people.”
“Oh, man. I need my cell. I’ve got to make some calls. I got a message. I need my cell.” His hands were uncoordinated and it took him a few minutes to control them. When he did, he pulled the oxygen tube out of his nose.
“Hold on, brother. You’re in an ICU unit. Can’t use the cell in here. What do you mean a message? A voicemail?”
“Where’s my cell?”
“Hey! Tell me what’s going on!”
“Barbara Montgomery or whatever alias she’s using is probably down in Florida by now and she’s going to attempt to kill my wife and son.”
“No, she’s not. She’s dead.”
John scowled at him.
“They found a body of a woman burned to a crisp in the living room.”
“Wasn’t her. She grabbed a coat and ran down the fire escape outside the bedroom window.”
“You’re kiddin’, right?” After the signature look from John, Wither’s stomach sank. “Didn’t get forensics back yet. Fuck! We gave her a seven-hour head start.”
“Now get me a phone. And a plane ready at the airport. Where are my clothes?”
“Doc. You’re not going anywhere. You’re hooked up. Not to mention stitched up.”
“Get me a phone now!” John screamed as loudly as he could, which was minimal, not having any strength. “Get me my phone! I have to validate something!” He breathed heavily and his head sank back into the pillow.
“Damn it, Trenton. We don’t have time for your bullshit.”
John grasped Wither’s forearm. “Where’s my phone?”
“Hold on, lunatic. I have it. The EMS tech gave it to me.” Withers took it out of his pocket.
“Check for messages. Put them on speaker phone.”
Withers followed the order, though doubting John’s mental state.
“Dr. Trenton, it’s Bobby again. Some woman had a picture of you and your wife. And she wanted to find your address. My friend said he would do it and she promised him ten grand. He found out and met with the guy she sent to get the address to pay him. He shot my friend in cold blood, Dr. Trenton. He’s dead. I was around the corner. He gave the guy your address and told him your wife is visiting her parents in Serento, Florida. Dr. Trenton, that woman is going to Florida to kill your wife.”
“How the hell did you know that with the phone shut off and in my damn pocket?”
“I told you I got a message. The sedation let me go into deep meditation and see things.”
“Oh, yeah. You’re that psychic shrink.”
“My wife’s life is in danger and you’re not going to stop me,” John growled. He ripped the IV tape off and pulled out the needle with some of his blood from the tubing splashing onto Withers. He couldn’t have cared less. He reattached the gauze and tape to cover the incision. “I’m taking care of this myself.”
“All right, hold on. You said she left by the fire escape?”
“Yes.” John struggled to sit up, but Withers held him down only to get himself kneed in the stomach with as much force as John could muster.
Withers didn’t back off. He remained leaning over John. “When?”
“A few minutes before EMS came into the bedroom. Get off me. Every minute we spend doing this, is more time she can get to my wife and kids.”
“Thought you didn’t have any kids.”
“We’re adopting an eight year old and Vicki is pregnant. So now’s not the time to prove you’re almost as strong as me.”
“I’m stronger. It’s called youth. I’ve ten less years of deterioration on me.”
Withers received a sneer of disapproval for that remark. “I’ve got to call my brother-in-law,” John said.
“Why him?”
“He’s the commander of SWAT in the county. He’ll know what to do.”
“Jesus, wait a second.” Withers yelled out into the hall, “Get me a phone hook-up in here!”
***
Barbara meandered down the trail in the woods, leading to Vicki’s house. She double-checked the Pink Lady she’d concealed in her bag. Boy, was it easy to get a gun down here. Cash and carry right from a couple of rednecks off a truck. Just the way I like it. And with the serial number already buffed off, it will be untraceable. This part of the county is great. With all these woods, it’s so easy to bury a body here, or two. When I’m done, Vicki and their kid won’t be found for decades. This is one isolated house. Hell, I could never live here. I’d die of boredom. Jesus, this chick is going to be an easy mark. What could a cracker know?
A jeep in the driveway signaled that Vicki was home. Barbara confidently rang the bell.
“Who’s there?”
“It’s Susan, sweetheart.”
The door opened and sweet and adorable Ricky, with his long curly blond hair almost to his shoulders, greeted her. “I thought you were coming for dinner. It’s only two o’clock.”
Barbara gave him the once over. “Are you in the military?”
He looked down at his outfit, shorts and a tank top in army camouflage. “No, I’m too young.”
Barbara walked in, laughing. “I know, baby, and I know I’m early, but I didn’t know where to go today. I’m just not used to seeing all these cows and horses so close up. I thought your mom could give me some idea
s.” She looked up when Vicki entered from the bedroom.
“Hi, Susan, I’m Vicki and this is Ricky.” Vicki extended her hand to shake. Barbara reciprocated. “Can I get you something to drink? Lemonade? Unsweet tea?”
“Tea would be great, thanks.”
Vicki smiled. “I’ll be right back, darlin’.”
Ricky made himself comfortable next to Barbara on the couch. “You work with John?”
“Yes. And you call your dad by his first name?”
“Well, he’s not my dad yet, but he’s going to be.”
“How so?”
“John an’ Vicki are going to adopt me. Then they’ll be my mom an’ dad for real. I can’t wait. I’ll have a real family that loves me for the first time in my life.”
“That’s wonderful.” Her stomach sank. If only she could have had a family of her own. She did once, but it was all taken from her. Now she begrudged everyone a family. “How did you meet them?”
“I was five an’ I met John the same night he met Vicki in the hospital. I had an asthma attack an’ John helped me when I was waiting there for the kid doctor. An’ John talked to my mom an’ got her to leave my dad because he was doing really bad things to me. Really bad. Then my dad took my mom, grandma an’ grandpa hostage, He had a lot of guns, rifles too, an’ John got me out of there an’ put them in jail. He wanted me to live with them then, but the judge wouldn’t let him take me to New York, an’ I’ve been in different foster homes, an’ finally they reached Vicki an’ she said I could come live with them.”
“Mommy is in jail, too?”
“Yes. She was doing bad things to me, too. The lady at social services told Vicki they gave up their parental rights, whatever that is, so they can adopt me now.” He took out the photo from his pocket of John and him sleeping together when he was five. “See? This is John an’ me, the first night after he saved me. I was a little kid, then.”