The TANNER Series - Books 1-3 (Tanner Box Set)

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The TANNER Series - Books 1-3 (Tanner Box Set) Page 4

by Remington Kane


  Aldo agreed and he and his men were waiting for news inside a coffee shop in Boulder City, Nevada.

  Aldo was forty and had been a thug for hire since high school, when he would help his old man shake down late payers for a loan shark. He had large hands with prominent veins and a naturally mean face, and although he didn’t get off on hurting people, he also didn’t mind doing it either.

  He had no fear of Tanner despite Ramone’s warning that the man was a hard case. Aldo knew Tanner was a hit man and he thought that such men were all punks who would rather shoot you from the shadows than face you head on. To Aldo, Tanner was just another jerk who needed planting out in the desert, and he had already begun to plan how he would spend the bonus.

  He looked over at his three men, saw that they all looked relaxed, and knew that they considered Tanner an easy kill, just as he did. Once Tanner was spotted, they’d run him down, whack him, take a picture of the corpse as proof, and then plant him.

  The planting would be the hardest part of the whole thing, but that was his men’s problem. Aldo didn’t dig graves anymore; he only made sure that there was something to toss in them.

  He leaned back in his seat and took a sip of coffee, while thinking that the day would be a good one.

  He couldn’t have been further from the truth.

  CHAPTER 10 - Call me Ramone

  Earl and Merle Carter sat in a stolen Chevy Impala, while taking turns watching Aldo and his men through a pair of binoculars.

  Earl had gone inside a nearby donut shop and gotten coffee, and now they were waiting for Aldo to make his next move.

  While Earl was gone, Merle had called a blackjack dealer he knew that sold a little pot on the side, and the word on the street was that Tanner was headed their way in a white pickup.

  Merle figured that Aldo must be waiting for someone to spot Tanner and call in his location. That was good. It meant that things were moving along and that maybe they’d be over by the end of the day.

  But Merle had learned something else, had gained more knowledge about Tanner’s rep, and if what he heard was true, it made him nervous.

  He filled his brother in on what he had learned and waited for his take on things.

  Earl gave a shrug.

  “There’s two of us. We can handle Tanner if we’re careful.”

  “They say that the dude has killed a lot of people, so we’d better watch our asses around him.”

  “Yeah, but first he’s got to get past Aldo and his boys.”

  “The dude broke out of prison. He’ll slip away from Aldo and then we’ll surprise him, but I ain’t dying for ten G’s.”

  Earl stared at his older brother.

  “You’re scared of Tanner, ain’t you?”

  Merle broke eye contact and went back to watching Aldo. After nearly a minute passed, he spoke.

  “Remember Johnny Cato?”

  “Yeah, the foreign dude who tried to muscle Bo Manderelli and take his turf in Florida. That was about three years ago, right?”

  “Right, and after fucking that up, him and his men went to Jersey, to try and muscle in there. There were sixteen of them, Earl, sixteen stone cold killers. Manderelli hired this guy Tanner to kill Johnny Cato and said he’d pay an extra three grand for every one of Cato’s men. Tanner killed them all in one night and it wasn’t until the maids smelled the rot of the bodies that anyone even knew it had happened.”

  “Sixteen dudes at once, how?”

  “He got them in their sleep with a silenced gun, just went room to room like a ghost, popping them.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah, and yeah I’m scared, and you should be too.”

  Earl didn’t say anything back, but ten G’s didn’t sound like a lot of money anymore.

  ***

  As he drove towards Vegas, Tanner got the number for O'Grady’s ranch from Cindy and after being jerked around by two of the man’s flunkies, he was able to speak to Hank O'Grady.

  “Who are you?” O'Grady said. Tanner thought the voice sounded gruff and wondered if the man was in a bad mood. If he was, Tanner was about to make it worse.

  “I’m the guy who killed your men in New Mexico.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Why did you kill them?”

  “You sent three goons with guns after two unarmed kids; that told me that you wanted the kids bad, so I figured they were worth something to you.”

  “You have them, Billy and Cindy?”

  “I have them, and it’ll cost you fifty grand to get them back.”

  “Listen punk, you tell me where you are and I’ll send someone to get them, otherwise, I’ll send men to get you, a lot of men.”

  “I’m not alone in this, O'Grady. I work for a man named Albert Rossetti, in Vegas, and Albert Rossetti doesn’t take shit from anyone.”

  “I don’t know any Rossetti, and what’s your name?”

  Tanner searched his memory and came up with a name.

  “My name is Ramone. Fifty grand, O'Grady, and we want it today. Send a man to Vegas with it and I’ll call this afternoon and tell you where to meet, okay hayseed?”

  When O'Grady replied, Tanner got exactly what he was hoping to hear—rage.

  “I don’t take orders from anybody asshole! Do you hear me? And I don’t give a fuck who this Rossetti is. Goddamn Italians think they’re hot shit, but I don’t scare.”

  “Just get the money ready, pal, and then you’ll get the kids back, it’s just business.”

  O'Grady began speaking again but Tanner ended the call. When he looked over at Billy and Cindy, he saw worried faces.

  “Tanner, are you really gonna sell us to O'Grady?” Cindy asked.

  “No, that was me starting a war between him and Rossetti. If I can get them fighting each other, It’ll distract them and make it easier for me to kill Rossetti, and for you to get away.”

  “That’s smart,” Cindy said, then, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

  Tanner glanced at her, and again, he felt desire rise.

  Billy leaned forward and caught his eye.

  “What if Mr. O'Grady sends men after you? And I mean a lot of men.”

  “They’ll die,” Tanner said, and his voice was so cold, so matter of fact, that it made Cindy reach over and take Billy’s hand.

  CHAPTER 11 - It’s personal

  Sara had heard back from the FBI agent in Colorado and learned that William Benton, age 20 and Cindy Preston, age 19, were wanted for questioning by local authorities, concerning an assault on the son of Colorado rancher, Hank O'Grady.

  O'Grady claimed to have no idea why the three men that worked for him had been after Billy and Cindy, but guessed that it was a misguided sense of loyalty that sent them in pursuit of the kids.

  When asked why the assault hadn’t been reported earlier, O'Grady said that he hadn’t wanted to get them in trouble.

  Sara wasn’t buying any of it, especially after learning that O'Grady was suspected of being involved in illegal businesses, and that he laundered their profits through his legal enterprises.

  Garner finished reading the report and rested his feet atop the desk that Sara sat behind. They were still in the Vegas field office of the FBI, waiting for news.

  “This O'Grady sent men after these kids, Billy and Cindy, and Tanner must have thought they were coming for him, if it was Tanner,” Garner said.

  “It was Tanner, and yeah, that’s my thinking too,” Sara said.

  The young agent, the one named Whitman walked over to speak with them. The word was out that Tanner was drawing closer and that Rossetti’s men were going to intercept him before too long. Sara thanked Whitman for keeping them informed and then asked for Rossetti’s address.

  “Why do you want to speak with Rossetti?” Garner said.

  “I’m going to try and convince him to hand Tanner over to us if his men get the chance to take him alive. It’ll not only cut down on the bloodshed, but we’ll be ab
le to question Tanner as well.”

  “I got the impression that you wanted the man dead?”

  “I’d prefer it personally, but I also realize that Tanner could help bring others to justice.”

  Garner smiled.

  “You’re a good agent, Sara, but you do know that Rossetti doesn’t care what we want.”

  “Oh, I know that, but this will also give us a chance to see inside Rossetti’s place, and if I know Tanner, he’ll make it past Rossetti’s death squad and come after the man in his home. This way, we’ll have an idea of the battleground before the shit hits the fan.”

  Garner grabbed his jacket, Sara gathered her purse, and they headed for the elevator.

  As they were riding down, Garner stared at her.

  “Do you know Tanner? Is that why it’s personal for you?”

  “He killed one of my Civilian Informants, my CI, a man named Brian Ames.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be; just help me make the bastard pay.”

  “You got it.”

  As they drove towards Rossetti’s, Sara glanced at Garner from the corner of her eye, wondering if he believed her about wanting to capture Tanner alive if possible.

  She didn’t give a damn about Tanner’s safety, or about his worth as a source of information. She just wanted him to stay alive long enough for her to get to him, so that she could fire a bullet into his murderous heart.

  Sara hated Tanner and had vowed to herself that she would be the one to kill him,

  Sara sighed, sat back in her seat, and took in the sights of Las Vegas Boulevard, as Garner drove them towards Albert Rossetti.

  CHAPTER 12 - Meanwhile, back at the ranch

  In Colorado, Hank O'Grady handed a glass of bourbon to Cindy’s father, Joe Preston.

  Preston accepted the drink with a tight smile.

  “It’s early to be drinking, isn’t it Hank?”

  O’Grady smirked.

  “Trust me. You’re going to need that drink.”

  Preston took a sip of the excellent bourbon and awaited O'Grady’s words with trepidation.

  He watched as O'Grady poured himself a drink and settled near him, by resting a hip on the corner of his massive oak desk. Behind the desk was a picture window that granted a view of a wide green field, and beyond that, the edge of the snow-capped Rocky Mountains.

  Preston loved that view, had always loved it and envied O'Grady for having ownership of it. He’d grown up on the ranch just as O'Grady had, but his father was just a ranch hand and O'Grady’s father had been Jacob O'Grady, lord and master of the Triple-E Ranch.

  Hank O'Grady was a hard case, but his father, Jacob, had been a cold-hearted bastard. Joe’s father had hated Jacob O'Grady, but he worked for the man all his life and called him sir, and now Joe was working for the son. However, Joe was ranch foreman, a respectable position, and was doing work that he loved.

  When he first realized that O'Grady’s son, Ricky, was in love with Cindy, he thought that good fortune had kissed him at last.

  If Cindy married Ricky O'Grady, then he would no longer be just an employee, but family, and someday it would be his grandson that ruled the Triple-E and he would spend his later years inside the ranch house with servants, instead of being shuffled off to some old age home. But Cindy didn’t like Ricky and had never liked Ricky.

  Still, the boy was determined to marry her someday, and would have worn her down, but then that damned Billy came along and stole her heart.

  Preston hated Billy. If not for that son of a bitch he could have talked Cindy into accepting Ricky, he knows he could have, but now they’ve run off to God knows where and Preston’s job, his very way of life, was hanging by a thread.

  Hank O'Grady raised his cut crystal glass up to catch the light from the window and studied the rainbow of colors.

  “I sent the Cooper brothers to fetch Cindy and bring her back.”

  “Did they find her?” Preston asked.

  “Oh yeah, they were staying at some fleabag motel in New Mexico, but when they went to grab Cindy, someone shot them dead.”

  Preston had taken his second sip of bourbon as O'Grady spoke. The liquid warmed him as the first sip had, but this time it felt like he had swallowed acid.

  “They’re dead? All three of them? Shit, was it that kid Billy that killed them?”

  O'Grady laughed.

  “Billy Benton couldn’t have killed any one of those men, much less all three of them. No, it was someone else, some asshole named Ramone, and he says he works for a man named Rossetti. Rossetti is a Las Vegas mobster and he wants fifty thousand for Billy and Cindy.”

  Preston was trying to absorb the news when something occurred to him.

  “How did the Cooper brothers track down Cindy and Billy?”

  O'Grady’s lips formed into a cruel, but knowing smile. He was about fifty, a few years older than Preston was, and he had a softness to his middle that the lean, hardworking Preston would never have.

  “I’ve got a way to track them down and I want you to go and bring them back.”

  “You’re going to pay the money?”

  “You’ll hand over the money, get the kids, and then my boys will teach this Rossetti a lesson and take the money back.”

  “So I won’t be going alone?”

  “Hell no, you’d just wind up dead too. No, I’ll send a bunch of the boys with you and we’ll get payback for the Coopers.”

  “I don’t want Cindy hurt. I don’t give a damn what happens to Billy, but I want Cindy back here safe and sound so she can make things right with Ricky.”

  O'Grady stood up from the desk and hovered over Preston.

  “If you want to make things right, you bring Cindy back here and have her marry Ricky. My boy wants her and no one else, and by God, he’s going to have her. If you come back here without her, I’ll kick your ass off the ranch.”

  Preston placed his glass atop the desk as he nodded in understanding.

  “I’ll bring her back and she’ll do as she’s told. I can get her to listen once Billy is out of the picture, I know I can.”

  O'Grady walked behind his desk and settled into a leather office chair. Preston took that as a dismissal and headed for the door. When he reached it, O'Grady spoke again.

  “There’s one more thing, Joe.”

  Preston swallowed hard, as he felt his palms grow slick with sweat.

  “Yes sir?”

  “I want you to kill Billy. I want that punk dead for hurting my boy.”

  “Hank, ah, I’ve never killed anything but an animal. I’m not sure I can do it.”

  “This is me you’re talking to, Joe. Do you really think I bought that bullshit about your wife running off with that short order cook?”

  Preston opened his mouth to respond and then closed it and stared down at the carpet.

  “You killed your cheating whore of a wife, didn’t you?” O'Grady asked.

  “Lydia... Lydia ran away,” Preston said, in words barely louder than a whisper.

  He had killed his wife, had taken her up into the mountains, stabbed her to death and buried her in a shallow grave.

  “You’ll kill Billy too, and then I’ll know that you can be trusted. It’ll also show Cindy that we’re not fucking around. I mean hell, there are girls that would love to marry Ricky. He’s rich, he’s handsome, why is she being such a bitch about it?”

  Preston shrugged.

  “She said that she didn’t love him.”

  O'Grady leaned back in his seat and made a sound of derision.

  “Young girls are so stupid, but she’ll learn, by God that girl will learn.”

  Preston left the office and walked to his quarters, a four-room cabin near the main bunkhouse.

  He no sooner closed the door than he had to rush to the toilet and vomit.

  He would kill Billy and might even enjoy it, but he knew that Cindy would then hate him. He could live with that too if he had to, after all, her mother had grown to
hate him and he lived with her for years before killing her. He could live with anything if it meant he stayed on the ranch, for it was the only home he’d ever known.

  CHAPTER 13 - Partners

  Ramone eyed Sara with lustful interest, as he escorted her and Garner into Rossetti’s home.

  Rossetti’s place was an old ranch house that pre-dated the casinos, but which had been modernized over the years. It was one level, but sprawling and L-shaped. The top of the L was at the rear of the home, and a large pool separated it from what used to be a bunkhouse for the ranch hands, but was currently used as an occasional barracks for Rossetti’s goons.

  The front of the property faced a county road, while the rest of it was surrounded by a hill on three sides, beyond which laid scrubland.

  To reach the home, you had to cruise down a winding driveway, and there were places to park out front and on the right side.

  A woman stepped out of a hallway on the left and informed Ramone that Rossetti wanted to speak to him. The woman was young, with red hair, and wore a short skirt. She was one of Rossetti’s call girls. She would be switched for another of her ilk and put back to work on The Vegas Strip whenever the fat man grew tired of banging her.

  Ramone asked the two FBI agents to stay where they were, and then told the woman, who he called Joy, to stay and watch them. Ramone had barely left the foyer when Garner elicited a smile from Joy, and within seconds, the redhead was laughing and touching him, her fingers walking along his chest, as they whispered to each other.

  Sara shook her head in irritation as she watched them and wondered if Garner ever thought with anything other than his dick. They had come there to scout the place and feel out Rossetti, not to try to hook-up with one of the man’s high-priced whores.

  Garner and Joy separated as the sound of footsteps approached, and Ramone reappeared with Rossetti. Sara had seen pictures of the man and expected him to be fat, but the photos didn’t do his girth justice. She looked at Joy, as the whore turned to leave, and hoped that Rossetti was paying her a fortune to sleep with him. She had earned it.

 

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