Chasing the Son

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Chasing the Son Page 5

by Bob Mayer


  “What?” Gator was startled. “Erin?”

  “Erin?” Dave Riley echoed, holding the rope attached to the zodiac Gator had just driven up in. “Our Erin?”

  Chase had a submachinegun slung over his shoulder, water dripping off his combat fatigues. He dumped the fins on the deck. Chase was a tad under six feet tall. His hair was turning gray and cut tight to his skull. As he peeled off the wet shirt, he revealed a dozen various sized pockmark scars on the right side of his body, the result of a Taliban grenade. There was also a bullet mark on his stomach, left of center.

  The fourth member of the team, Kono, was up above them, in the cockpit of the patrol boat, silent, as he usually was. But he moved forward, leaning over the bulletproof glass lining the cockpit, listening.

  “I had to shoot her,” Gator explained to Riley. “She drew a gun on Chase.”

  “I’m still at Erin being there,” Riley said. “How was she connected to Sarah Briggs? And you didn’t shoot Briggs?” he said, indicating Gator.

  The huge ex-Ranger shrugged. “She didn’t have a gun. Actually, she didn’t have much. No top. Not my type.” He added with a hard look at Chase who’d made her his type for a disastrous couple of days.

  “Explain,” Riley said to Chase. Dave Riley had retired from Special Forces years ago. After working security for several gigs, he’d tossed it in and moved to Daufuskie Island, taking over his Uncle Xavier’s small-time bookie operation. Raised by his Puerto Rican mother after his Irish father skipped out, Riley was a long way from the Bronx where he’d grown up. He was a slight man with dark skin, sporting an inevitable slight beer belly, and his once-thick hair was thinning and greying.

  “I have a son,” Chase began. Then he quickly relayed what had transpired between himself, Erin and Sarah. When he finished, Kono made his first contribution.

  “Should have suspected Erin,” the Gullah said. “She said Briggs was dead after checking her right here on the deck of this boat. Then we find out Briggs not dead. She lied.”

  “Yeah, obvious now,” Riley acknowledged. “We should have made some sort of connection there. But we missed a lot of things.” He shook that off. “Erin say anything more about your son other than he was named Horace?”

  Chase sat down, running his hand through Chelsea’s mane as he tried to collect this thoughts. A Shepherd-Chow mix, dark-colored, Chelsea was a gift from his landlord when he’d lived in Boulder, Colorado and worked as a F.L.I.: Federal Liaison Investigator. That job seemed long ago and far away.

  “No,” Chase said. “Just that Erin had to leave Hilton Head when she was pregnant and go to her mother’s in Oklahoma. He’d be—“ Chase did the math—“around nineteen now. Give or take a few months.”

  “If you’re the daddy,” Gator pointed out.

  “I’m the father,” Chase said.

  “If there’s a child,” Gator persisted.

  Chase started to get up, toward Gator, which would prove futile given Gator’s bulk and quick temper.

  “Hold on,” Riley said. “Gator’s right. How do you know she wasn’t just fucking with you? This whole thing has been a mindfuck from the start.”

  “Then why would Erin have gone in on the scam with Briggs?” Chase asked.

  “Money,” Kono said.

  “No.” Chase pointed at Gator. “You knew her.”

  “Not that well,” Gator said. “We chatted a few times. I thought she was cute. But she didn’t, you know, respond.”

  “She said she had a partner,” Chase said. “A woman?”

  Gator shook his head. “Not that I knew of.” He seemed happier. “Maybe that’s why she didn’t respond to me.”

  “Another lie,” Riley said.

  “What?” Gator was off a beat on the conversation.

  “Why didn’t you ask Briggs?” Riley asked Chase ignoring Gator’s wounded manhood. “She knew, right?”

  Chase nodded. “Yeah. She brought it up.”

  “Then she knows something,” Riley said. “Why didn’t you question her?”

  “Time,” Chase said. “We had the op timed.”

  “We had it timed because we thought she’d have security,” Riley said. “Think clearly. Did Briggs know about the child before Erin said anything?”

  Chase had to focus, realizing he’d lost his professional anchor and was making bad decisions.

  “Yes.”

  “So the two of them discussed it,” Riley said. “Then it’s likely Sarah Briggs knows more about your son.”

  “Shit,” Chase said. He’d been caught between revenge and surprise and the shock of Erin’s death right after finding out they’d had a child together. Well, not exactly together other than the conception.

  “There was no security?” Riley directed the question to Gator.

  “I didn’t see any,” Gator said, “and there was no reaction to my shot.”

  “All right then,” Riley said. “That changes things. Then let’s go back and ask her again.”

  “What?” Chase said.

  “We go back,” Riley explained. “Talk to Sarah Briggs. Find out what she knows about Erin and your son. She was counting on secrecy to protect her, not guards. It didn’t work.” He wasn’t waiting. Riley pointed to Kono. “Hold the boat here.” To Gator. “You come with us and bring the big gun. We’ll take the zodiac. We’ll do commo checks every thirty minutes. We miss two, Kono, you can head home.”

  “Not,” was Kono’s response to that and the others knew better than to argue with the Gullah. A descendant of the former slaves and freedmen who populated the coastal barrier islands off of Florida, Georgia and South Carolina, Kono was part of a unique culture that had its own traditions and language. He was much a part of the Low Country as any person could be. A solidly built black man, Kono sported a shaved head with unblemished chocolate skin. He was barefoot, his feet more sure of the deck than any man-made shoes. He wore jeans that had seen better days and an untucked Hawaiian shirt. On his left hip was a machete.

  Riley went over the side, into the zodiac Gator had used to transport himself into his sniping position on the island. Chase clambered over the side behind him. Gator climbed back into the rubber boat, the big .50 caliber Barrett sniper rifle cradled in his arms.

  Without another word, Riley cast off and they roared toward the beach.

  As they neared the shoreline, Riley leaned close to Chase, speaking loud enough to be heard over the outboard engine, but low enough that Gator couldn’t hear. “Get you head out of your fourth point of contact, Horace. This woman wrapped you around her finger and tossed you. Then Erin dumped her thing on you. You don’t do well with women.”

  No shit, Chase thought. A divorce, losing Sylvie back in Boulder, then Sarah conning him, and on top of her Erin lying dead ahead of him and lurking long ago in his past. He was coming full circle, and it wasn’t a pretty one, more like a whirlpool.

  Riley was watching the surf. At just the right distance, he cut the engine and pulled it up. Their momentum carried them onto the beach. Riley jumped overboard with a stake on a rope. He slammed it into the beach as Gator hopped off and headed to the left to assume his overwatch position.

  “We take the stairs,” Riley said.

  Chase followed him and they took the creaking wooden boards two at a time. Riley had an MP-5 at the ready and Chase was backing him with the same.

  They made it up the cliff to the plateau holding the mansion.

  Erin’s body lay where it had fallen, blood congealing. Her body had not been covered. Sarah Briggs was nowhere to be seen.

  They double-timed past the body and into the house. They moved fast, but tactically, the odds were likely that Sarah had already getten out of there as quickly as possible.

  They were wrong.

  They came upon her standing a balcony overlooking the cliff and the ocean, a cell phone in her hands, talking forcefully.

  She saw them and switched off the phone, then tossed it in an arc. It landed in the pool.


  “Calling the cavalry?” Riley asked.

  “If I have, perhaps you should go back to where you came from.”

  “Perhaps not,” Chase said.

  “Forget something, Horace?” she asked as they joined her. Her tone was casual but her body was tense. At least she’d put a robe on.

  “Tell us everything about Erin and her son with Chase,” Riley said.

  Sarah laughed, a low sultry sound, regaining her balance. “You left in a rush, Horace. All pumped up about being a daddy. And threatening me, thinking you destroyed my life. Must have felt good to get those last digs in. Did you toss that USB drive?”

  “I tossed it,” Chase said.

  “And I tossed my phone, so we’re even.”

  “Who were you talking to?” Riley asked.

  “Like you said. Arranging transportation out of here before bad people come to do me in. Am I too late? Are you bad people?”

  “Why’d you toss it?” Riley demanded.

  “I don’t want you two showing up at my next place,” Sarah said. “Hell, I didn’t expect you to show back up here. That money from SAS is gone?”

  “It’s gone as far as you’re concerned,” Chase said.

  Riley cut in. “Was Erin lying?”

  Sarah deigned to look at Riley. “How are the nerves, Dave? You a little shaky?” She picked up a flute of champagne. “Need something to steady things out?”

  “I’m fine,” Riley said.

  “Sure, sure. Pills help? All you vets get happy pills, right? VA passes them out for free so you’re willing to stand in line while dying, right?”

  “Was she lying?” Riley repeated.

  “Why would Erin lie?” Sarah said. “I admit she is, was, very good at it. Better than me, and I’ve been told I’m among the best. But lying about having a son? None of what happened would have played out the way it did if that little tidbit wasn’t true. I didn’t figure it out until too late. After we were here. And she started talking just a little bit. She finally let me in on the big secret about a week or so ago. I didn’t think much of it, although it did explain some of her actions since she never seemed into the money. But I never thought you’d find us, Horace. I did start getting worried Erin would leak our location somehow to get you here since she’d obviously never let it go and people who can’t let things go always want to dig that knife in deeper and then end up falling on it themselves, as she did. Honestly, since you want honesty, I was planning on getting away from her shortly. She was a liability and unraveling. I appreciate your help in that matter, although it was more extreme than what I had in mind.”

  Chase stepped up next to Riley. “You’re done.”

  “Oh, Horace, Horace.” She shook her head. “You are still so naïve. Yes, you got a lot of the money. By the way, do you mind if I ask where it went? To your account perhaps?”

  “No,” Chase said, but nothing more.

  “Of course not. Honest Horace wouldn’t do that. One then assumes your secret friend in the dark world who tracked me down for you. Spooks. They play people. Today your friend gives me up. Tomorrow he’ll give you up if it suits his needs. We’re just pieces on the board, moved about and sacrificed without a second thought.”

  “We’ve been around,” Riley said. “We know how the game is played.”

  “Oh yes,” Sarah said, “you have. And look where you ended up, Dave Riley, former Green Beret. Running small-time book on Daufuskie Island. Taking over your Uncle Xavier’s nickel and dime operation. I made more off one regular season football game than you could make in a lifetime running that gig. Drawing your pension from the government for decades of service and giving up your physical and mental health. How much do you get a month for all that traveling around the world getting shot at?”

  Surprisingly, Riley laughed. “You’re buying time. You’ve got people coming.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “And how do you know about spooks?” Riley asked. “You ran an off-shore gambling site. Not espionage.”

  “Any time there’s considerable money involved,” Sarah said, “you can be sure the spooks come around like moths to the light. Whether it be tracing the money or wanting it.”

  Riley took two steps and put the muzzle of his pistol in her face. “Tell us what you know about Chase’s son.”

  “You won’t shoot me,” Sarah said with absolute confidence. “You’re not capable of doing that in cold blood.”

  “Good point,” Riley said, lowering the muzzle of his weapon and putting it back in the holster. “You might have me pegged.” He stepped back. “But if I give the signal, Gator will put a fifty caliber round right through you. Probably a head shot. Blow it right off your shoulders. Isn’t pretty. You remember Gator, don’t you? You think he’ll hesitate to shoot you?”

  Sarah stirred, enough of a realist to understand that was indeed a possibility given it was Gator who had his finger on the trigger. “Nothing more than what she told you. She got pregnant from Horace’s summer romp before he went off to West Point.” She shifted attention to Chase. “She made a feeble attempt to contact you. If it had been me, and it wouldn’t have been since I wouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place, but if it was, I’d have shown up at West Point and put on quite the performance, maybe in the middle of that big parade field there, what do they call it?”

  “The Plain,” Chase said.

  “Smack dab in the middle of the Plain,” Sarah said. “Made you accountable. But Erin wigged out. She didn’t tell her father who was the planter of the seed producing the little bugger germinating inside her. Why, I have no idea. Did her father not like you, Horace? Did she know she couldn’t count on you? So her father banished her to Oklahoma to live with her mother. She gave birth. And then she was done with the kid, dumping him with her mother. She went to college somewhere in the Northeast. Got her vet degree. Worked a bunch of places, but when her father died a year ago, she ended back up on Hilton Head, living in his old house. She never knew what happened to the kid.”

  “Bull,” Chase said.

  “Gator shooting me won’t blow secret little parts of my brain onto the wall spelling out anything,” Sarah said. “She told me several times she’d wanted nothing to do with the kid and I believed her. She wanted nothing to do with her mother and her mother wanted nothing to do with her after she gave birth. Erin didn’t even try to see Horace Junior again. She told me her mother died two years ago. She didn’t go out there for the funeral and had no idea what happened to the boy. Probably ended up with her mother’s family out there in Oklahoma as far as she thought. Which wasn’t far. She certainly never checked on it.”

  The earpieces both Riley and Chase wore crackled with a report from Gator. “Two SUVs inbound. About six or seven minutes out.”

  “You’ve got company arriving,” Riley said to Sarah.

  She nodded. “I know. I called them. I was remiss not having security on site, but I enjoy my privacy and hired muscle standing around ogling isn’t my thing. I have my kinks but that’s not one.” She shifted to Chase. “Horace, you and your friend did cost me a lot. Far, far more than all of you are worth combined. But only a fool would have all their assets in one place. I’ve got enough squirreled away here and there to live the rest of my life in reasonable comfort. And enough to pay the gentlemen coming down the road to kill you and your friends. And police up the body you so inconveniently left behind.”

  “Not if we kill you first,” Chase said.

  “You would have done that the first time you visited me here,” Sarah said.

  “The people you stole from will catch up to you,” Riley said.

  “But I won’t be here,” Sarah replied. “I got caught once. I won’t get caught again. And I doubt they’re coming tonight. I’ll have time to pack. Seriously, you should just email or text next time you want to talk or threaten. Tick, tock, gentlemen.”

  Their earpieces came alive. “Three minutes out,” Gator reported. “Two SUVs, I count at least s
ix inside.”

  “Tick tock,” Sarah repeated.

  Riley drew his pistol once more. “I’m tired of being dicked with. You think you know me, but you don’t. Chase won’t kill you. Not his nature. But me, I truly don’t give a rat’s ass about you. You caused a lot of men’s deaths. One more death doesn’t make a bit of difference at this point. I’ve killed over less; and by less I mean killing someone simply because he’s wearing a different uniform than I am or is in the wrong place at the wrong time. Seems a personal killing is more legitimate.” He pressed the tip of the pistol against Sarah’s forehead. Her eyes swiveled up to meet Riley’s.

  “Well, okay. Maybe I misjudged you there, Dave. Seriously, fellows, I’m telling you all I know. Erin wasn’t the talkative type. We only hooked up halfway through our little excursion and she spent most of her time here cooped up, moping about. Not fun company at all.”

  “And?” Chase said.

  Sarah smiled. She tilted her head back, turning slightly, sliding the muzzle down her cheek to her mouth, which she opened. Before Riley could react, she put her lips lightly around the end of the barrel.

  Riley did the totally unnecessary movie move of pulling back the hammer on a double-action pistol.

  But it sounded good. And he assumed Sarah had seen enough movies to know what it meant. He was just a finger twitch away from ending her, especially after this latest last stunt.

  Sarah pulled her mouth back and blew Riley a kiss. “Okay, darling, okay. So that doesn’t do it for you. Every man is a little different, but in the end, they’re all the same. The only thing she said about Chase was that after you called and said you were coming, she checked out your mother’s place on Brams Point. She was surprised to learn your mother had died. And that the man she was living with, Doc Something-or-Other, had disappeared. Maybe she was looking for you?”

 

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