Dragonflies

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Dragonflies Page 11

by Andy Straka


  “Yeah.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I took a little detour before college.”

  “A detour?”

  “Yeah. Through Iraq and Afghanistan.”

  The detective eyed him and up and down and formed a serious pout with his mouth to show he was impressed. He glanced across at his partner and nodded. Maybe they were starting to believe, just a little, that Tye was for real. “Okay,” he said. “What’s the play?”

  “Simple. The party down the street’s at a frat house.”

  “So we gathered. You a member?”

  “Nope. But they’re hoping I might join. I can get into the party.”

  “All right.”

  “Once I’m in, I’m going to confront the guy with the evidence.”

  “Before you show it to us? Sorry, it don’t work like that, partner.”

  “It’s going to have to in this case and you’ll see why.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The guy’s family has some major league pull, and I’m afraid some powerful people will try to bury this before it sees the light of day. I want to prevent that from happening.”

  “So what does you walking in there and confronting this guy accomplish?”

  “If everything goes as planned, a lot. You’ll have an open and shut case. No one even needs to know I was here.”

  “And I should just take your word for it.”

  “Talk to your chief.”

  Williamson had helped set this up. Tye hoped the major had fully done his part.

  “You got a court order for any of this?”

  “Call your chief.” Tye looked over his shoulder. The last thing he needed right now was somebody from the party wandering down this back street and spying him with the cops.

  The detective glared at him for a moment. The guy pulled out his phone, punched in a single number and stuck it to his ear. “You stand right there for minute.”

  Tye waited. The detective powered his window up for a moment so he couldn’t hear what was being said. Soon the man’s mouth was moving in animated conversation.

  It wasn’t too long before the window came back down.

  “Okay, hotshot. Not sure who you are or how you’re doing all this, but the chief’s given the go-ahead. This has sure been one freakstorm of a night around here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t you watch the news? Some guy got his head blown to bits a few blocks from here. The coroner’s still trying to pick up the pieces. You better watch yourself, Mister.”

  “Sure thing. Will do.”

  “Just so you know…the chief told me to tell you anything goes wrong in there, you’re on your own. We can just take you all into custody if we have to and sort this all out down at the division....”

  Tye nodded and turned to go.

  “Hey,” the detective said. “I can tell you’re not a cop. Why you doing all this?”

  Tye looked back at him for a moment. “Loose ends, detective.”

  “What?” The cop squinted at him with a mixture of doubt and curiosity.

  “Just cleaning up some loose ends.”

  “Must be one big old frayed one…”

  “Yeah.”

  The big cop rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “Well, hell, son, coming from where you’re coming from, I’d imagine you’ve got a good number of those.”

  22

  The lawn in front of the house lay strewn with plastic beer cups and other trash. A large crowd of students–mostly frat guys but several girls, too–was gathered around a ping-pong table someone had dragged out onto the grass, and a fierce game of beer pong was in full swing. The music was loud enough to mask Tye’s approach. He saw no sign of Derek Kurn. Dressed in blue jeans, sandals, and a college t-shirt, no one paid him any attention anyway as he melted through the crowd toward the house.

  Raina had briefed him in detail on the layout of the house and the location of Derek’s room.

  “You in?”

  Raina’s voice purred into his hidden earpiece as he moved away from the crowd and stepped up onto the porch and behind a pair of columns where he couldn’t be heard.

  “Not quite.”

  “Had a little technical glitch with the watchbird I was using on the rooftop across the street, so I lost sight of you.”

  “Just what we need, a temperamental robofly.”

  “No need to be mean. My babies get the hiccups sometimes, especially when you insult them.”

  “I’ll try to remember that.”

  “I’ve still got eyes in the main hallway and inside the target’s dorm room.”

  “How’d you manage to do that?”

  “Don’t ask.”

  “Anything interesting happening?”

  “The Kurn kid’s in his room, and there’s a girl in there with him. It’s been like watching the beginning of a slutty movie.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Shut up. This is where what we’re doing creeps me out.”

  “Roger that.”

  “At least this girl seems to be in possession of her faculties.”

  “Maybe Derek’s making some progress then.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “You call the press?”

  “Yup. Told them it was a hot tip and to have a TV van in front of the frat house.”

  “Good. Cops won’t be happy about it, but that’s their problem.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, Tye.”

  “Me, too.”

  He stepped out from behind the columns and headed down the porch toward the front door. A group of laughing coeds burst through the entrance and onto the porch, beer cups in hand. They looked at Tye for a moment. He nodded to them, and they smiled.

  “Hey, cutie,” one of them said.

  “Hey yourself.”

  “Nice hockey shirt. It looks good on you.”

  Tye waved his goalie’s glove at them and they moved off, giggling, toward the raucous crowd on the lawn.

  “My. Aren’t we the party-boy now?” Raina said through his earpiece.

  “I thought you said you couldn’t see me.”

  “But I can still hear you.”

  Tye moved on into the house.

  From the outside, the building had looked impressive, almost regal. Classic Colonial architecture with the stately columns circling the porch in front; dark brick with white trim. But the inside offered a different picture. Beer stains marred the wooden floor. The furniture, much of it torn and disheveled, had been pushed back to the walls. Party lanterns and Halloween decorations–witches, skulls, and gory jack-o-lanterns–were scattered throughout the house. Fake cobwebs hung from the ceilings, from the doorways, even the walls. Lights strobed back and forth over the revelers, many sporting masks. The music was deafening.

  A muscled mountain of a student–had to be a linebacker–manned a desk blocking entrance to the party.

  “Can I help you?” the student asked.

  It sounded more like a challenge than a desire to help. There was something animalistic about football, like combat.

  For a moment, he was afraid there might be trouble. He glanced to one side and saw one of the guys who’d been setting up on the patio with Derek Kurn a few hours before. The lineman followed his gaze. The other guy said to the lineman, “No problem, Michael. He’s cool. Derek met him this afternoon.”

  The mountain nodded. “Make yourself at home, friend,” the big guy said, stepping to one side. “Don’t let any hockey pucks catch you in the teeth.”

  “Wouldn’t mind having you blocking for me,” Tye said out of respect.

  The guy smiled. You never knew. In hostile country you could use all the friends you could get.

  Tye moved past him through the foyer and took a look around. The dancing was taking place in the main living room, a large open space directly in front of him. To one side a grand central staircase spiraled upward to the second floor. On the other sid
e, a hallway led to the kitchen and several other rooms. He didn’t see any of Raina’s little bugs swarming around, but then, he hadn’t expected to. Fortunately, Derek’s room was about half way down the hall to his right, a private suite reserved for the fraternity president. He turned and ran smack dab into a rising wall of boxes. Boxed wine. Two guys were just finished building the stack.

  “Sorry, buddy. Had to find someplace to stash the empties. We’ll carry them out to the dumpster later.”

  Nice. He couldn’t very well go crashing through them without causing a scene, and they blocked off the hall.

  He walked through into the living room and made for the wall.

  “Talk to me, Rain,” he whispered, hoping no one was watching him too closely.

  “I see it,” she said. “They just showed up with those boxes. Give me a second and I’ll try to find a workaround.”

  “Sure. I’ll just stand here putting my rave on.”

  There was no response.

  “Okay,” she said after thirty or forty seconds of silence. “Head to your right. About thirty feet along the wall is another open doorway. It leads through the dining room and into the kitchen and back up into the hallway from the other direction.”

  He began moving, but before he could get very far, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see the student who’d okayed his entry into the party holding out a red plastic cup.

  “Hey, soldier man. Have a beer.”

  The guy had black curly hair, big ears, and bright teeth when he smiled. He might have been a senior or maybe even a grad student like Tye. He looked a little older and more clean-cut than the other members of the fraternity, which was belied by the fact he wore a Baltimore Ravens jersey over a pair of bright yellow Bermuda shorts, dark sunglasses, and sandals with no socks.

  “Thanks,” Tye said, taking the cup from him.

  The guy held up his own beer to Tye’s. “To America,” Raven man toasted with a mixture of amusement and sarcasm.

  “To America.” Tye took a sip of the beer. It was ice cold and tasted almost as good as the one he’d drunk earlier. Another time and place he might actually have enjoyed it.

  Thankfully, Raven Man’s sunglasses seemed to have a wandering eye and a short attention span. “Hey. Catch you later, bro. I see somebody I really need to get up close and personal with, if you catch my drift.”

  “Later,” Tye said, watching for a moment as the guy weaved through the dancing throng, holding his full beer cup like an Olympic torch out in front of him above his head.

  “Tsk-tsk. No more drinking on the job,” Raina teased.

  “When in Rome….” Tye said under his breath.

  He stood and watched the dancing for a moment. Tye had been a decent student in high school, but never made straight A’s. Most of the students at the party were smarter than he was, at least on paper. They didn’t have to work nearly as hard. Some had probably graduated from prestigious prep schools where the classes were more rigorous and pressure-packed than the ones they were taking in college. For them, the university was mostly one big party scene, a place to hang their clothes for four years before getting on with the serious business of life.

  He found an empty bookcase shelf to place his beer cup on and continued on down the wall.

  The open doorway Raina had described appeared on his right. He moved through it, past the split off that led to the kitchen and into the semi-darkness of the hall.

  The corridor was empty, save for the stack of boxes now blocking the far end. The music made the walls vibrate, almost as if the house itself were in on the party. No doubt the place had seen its share of such noise. Tye had almost forgotten how loud a party could be.

  The entrance to Derek Kurn’s room was the only closed door along the hall. The others led to a study room lined with desks and carrels, empty, naturally, at the moment, and what looked like some sort of utility room, complete with electrical panels computer wiring, and blinking switchers and routers. Tye wondered idly if the house was wired into the campus wide network, but decided probably not. From what he understood, fraternities were private property, and the college’s IT department wouldn’t want to be responsible for whatever stunts a bunch of half-drunken pledges might be coaxed to try to pull off during rush.

  “Okay,” Raina said. “I’ve also got an egress for you if you need it. Derek’s room has a bank of casement windows. Looks like all you have to do is roll one of them open and pop out the screen. There’s no drop and it leads right into a stand of bushes.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  “Unless you’re into scaring topless coeds, you should hurry up and knock on the door now,” Raina told him.

  “Going in.” He pulled the hockey jersey over his head, tossing it to the floor along with the goalie’s mitt to reveal the dark leather jacket he wore underneath. Striding down the hall to the heavy wooden door, he stopped in front of it, and gave it three sharp raps with his knuckles.

  Nothing but silence came from inside.

  “The girl’s scrambling into the bathroom. Knock again.”

  Despite his misgivings about the drones, having Raina’s eyes inside the room was like knowing the dealer’s hole card in a game of blackjack. He knocked one more time.

  “Who is it?” Derek’s voice sounded dully through the door.

  “Tye Palmer.”

  “Who?”

  “We met this afternoon on the patio. The army guy.”

  “Oh, Palmer. Yeah, right. What’s up, dude? I’m a little busy at the moment. There some problem at the party?”

  “No. I need to talk to you.”

  The door was pulled half way open. Derek stood there barefoot in blue jeans and a dark t-shirt. “Right now? What do you mean? Can’t it wait? I’m a lit–”

  “It can’t wait.” Tye pushed on the door with his foot.

  Derek stepped in to stop it. “Whoa, hold up, my man. You don’t just barge in here.”

  “Send the girl out. You and I need to talk.”

  “Wha? How’d you…?”

  They stared at one another for a moment.

  “Send the girl out.”

  “It’s okay, Derek. I gotta get back to my friends and the party, anyway,” the girl said from behind the door.

  “What?” Derek made a face like his whole stature was being threatened. “No.”

  “Yes.” She appeared behind him in the doorway, wearing shorts, a tank top, and sandals with high heels. “Excuse me, gentleman.” She elbowed her way around Derek forcing the fraternity president to step aside. “I’ll just leave you two boys to talk.”

  They both watched as she traipsed off, a little tipsy, to rejoin the party.

  “Look,” Derek said, gritting his teeth. “I don’t know who the frick you think you are, but we don’t do business like this around here.”

  “No? How do you do business?”

  “What the frick is that supposed to mean?” Derek puffed his chest, leaning into Tye and gripping his arm.

  He had hoped he wouldn’t have to resort to what came next, but the young football player was not deciding to play nicely. Derek may have been in top athletic condition, but Tye, no athletic slouch himself, was taller and outweighed him. Not to mention, he could still pack a punch. In one smooth motion he chopped Derek’s hands from the door and cut off the guy’s leverage, strong-arming through the door.

  “What the?!” Derek toppled backward to the carpet.

  “Now. That wasn’t so nice, was it?”

  “No violence,” Raina admonished Tye in his earpiece. “Williamson said no violence.”

  He ignored her.

  Derek scrambled back to his feet and held up his hands. “Who are you? What do you want? Get out of my room.” His voice was weaker than a moment before.

  “Afraid I can’t do that, Derek.” Tye moved through the door and pushed it closed behind him. “You and I need to have a little chat.” He reached around his back beneath his jacket and came out with
the Beretta.

  Derek’s eyes grew big as saucers and he held up his hands. “Whoa. Hang on a minute. About what?”

  “Sit down.”

  “What for? What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to show you something.”

  Derek was on edge. He stood frozen to his spot.

  “I said sit down.” Tye held the gun loosely pointing at the floor. He reached out with the fingers of his opposite hand and gave the athletic frat president a gentle shove toward the bed.

  This time Derek took the hint and sat down on the edge of the mattress. “Do you know who I am?” the kid asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Is this some kind of kidnapping?”

  “No. But it might be better for you if it was.”

  “What are you talking about? Hey, man. This isn’t some kind of PTSD thing is it? You know, you were in all that fighting over there and stuff, right? I’ve read about this. You can get help for that.”

  “This isn’t about post-traumatic stress, Derek. And trust me, there’s no cure for what’s eating at me.” He reached in his pocket to pull out his smart phone, the same way he’d done with Stacie Hutchinson. “I need you to watch something.”

  “Okay.” Derek’s voice shook a little. The guy was clearly unnerved.

  Tye pressed the phone’s touch screen. The display blinked to life. He touched it again and the video began playing.

  Derek squinted, his forehead wrinkling with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. “What’s this?”

  “Just watch.” He handed the phone to the young man on the bed.

  The movie was a montage of news show video clips, war footage, and a congressional hearing, the last part featuring Derek’s father testifying before congress. Williamson had sent it to Tye and Raina when he recruited them.

  “Do you remember any of this?” Tye asked.

  “Yeah. Some of it...I was still in prep school. I wasn’t really paying too much attention to the news.”

  “Do you remember why your father was called to testify before Congress?”

  Derek shrugged. “Something about a couple of news stories for broadcast. They somehow got unauthorized video from our own guys and the bad guys got a hold of it or something like that.”

  “So you were paying attention.”

 

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