Debt Collector - Vengeance (Book 2 of a Jack Winchester Organized Crime Action Thriller) (Jack Winchester Vigilante Justice Thriller Series)

by Jon Mills

  “You don’t want to come with us this morning?”

  “Nah, as much as I would like to meet your sister and all, I’m really not feeling too good.”

  “But good enough to go visit a music store?”

  Jack smirked.

  Dana came out of the bathroom. She was already dressed and looking gorgeous like usual. Her hair was up, she wore tight jeans, and a form-fitting red shirt.

  “Jack?”

  He handed her a coffee.

  “Ah, you are saint.”

  He laughed. “Some might argue with that.”

  “So what time do you want to head over?”

  “I thought I could take you over to Central Park first. Watch the people ice skate. Try it out if you like.”

  “Ice skate? Me, no I will end up on my ass.”

  “Then we’ll take a walk. I’ll show you the sights.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Though you might want to talk to your boy here, he doesn’t seem up for it.”

  “Jason?”

  “I’m really not feeling too good.”

  “Maybe I should stay back?”

  “No, you go out. Have some fun. I don’t want to ruin it.”

  “All right but we’ll check back in later with you, okay? Before we head over to Jack’s sister’s.”

  “You have enough money on you? Just in case you need anything?” Jack asked.

  Jason chuckled.

  “Right.”

  They both knew he had more than enough with what he’d earned from selling drugs.

  “Listen, you get into any trouble, you call this number, okay?” Jack tapped his number into Jason’s cell.

  Ten minutes later they were out the door but not before Jack retrieved his gun from his room. He strapped it underneath his jacket. He wasn’t taking any chances. Dana was still concerned about leaving Jason behind but Jack reassured her that the place was safe, even if that was a lie. Fact was the mob was everywhere, they owned a piece of every neighborhood and what they didn’t own, they collected in protection money from local businesses.

  They caught a taxi from Brooklyn over to Central Park. It was a crazy amount of money but it was better than getting stuck on the subway at this time of year. The taxi guys knew their way around this city better than most locals. And with New Year’s Eve about to kick off, the place was about to be infested by over one million people in Times Square alone. It was a crazy time of year to show up in the city. But Jack was hopeful that it would go well. In two days’ time they would be back in Rockland Cove and away from all the danger. How Eddie had managed to talk him into showing up here was anyone’s guess. He could convince an Arab to buy sand.

  As they traveled through the streets, Dana gazed out the window and marveled at all the sights. Jack pointed out places he used to visit. Good places to eat and some of the areas you didn’t want to go into but most tourists did. Usually the best way to get around was by subway. You could go from one end of Manhattan down to the other in a matter of ten minutes.

  There was a buzz to the city. An energy that you felt as you walked around and squeezed your way through the crowd. Some people gazed at you, others wouldn’t even look. People were busy shopping, others mesmerized by the neon lights that dripped with hope and materialism. Buy this, buy that. Everything was for sale. Clothes, food, sex, and drugs. If you knew where to look you could get what you wanted. It was in many ways a buffet that was laid out. A tasty array of flavors served up into trays. Little Italy, Chinatown, SoHo, and much more. There was never a dull moment. You could spend days seeing the sights. Most would have to spend several weeks just to take in all the attractions. But it was what most didn’t see that really appealed to Jack. The underbelly of the city. The deals that occurred in the back of shops. The money that was extorted, the crooked arrangements that were made in dark alleys.

  To many of those who grew up in the city, this was their attraction. This is what pulled them in. The chance to make a name for themselves and run with the big dogs. The ones who pulled the strings and governed the affairs of others. They were judge, jury, and executioner. They didn’t answer to the police. The police answered to them if you paid them enough. And everyone had a price. It didn’t matter who you were. From lawyers to judges and police. There was virtually no one that had a clean record in this city. The only one he could remember who didn’t touch any of it was Frank Banfield. He had admired him since they had met.

  In many ways Jack had even envied his life. He imagined that Frank was what he could have become had he turned away from a life of crime. Who knew, maybe by now he would have had his own family, kids too. But that wasn’t Frank. Jack had watched his life from the sidelines. Their friendship had gone in very different directions by the time he was running with Gafino. Over the years Frank had got close to nailing Jack. Thankfully Jack had always been one step ahead. Making sure that nothing was left behind that could incriminate him. Though he had got sloppy over the years as he had grown older. Thirty-nine wasn’t old but in his line of work it meant he had to be more careful.

  Yeah, the city was full of all types. The good, the bad, and the ugly. After they had walked for a good hour around Central Park and some shops they made their way back. It didn’t take long to get tired in the city. Your senses were attacked by lights, noise, and the pull of the next attraction.

  Upon returning to the hotel they found a note saying that Jason had ducked out and would be back in a couple of hours. If they needed to find him he would likely be down at the music store, the one that Jack had mentioned.

  Sure enough, on their way over to Eddie’s they swung by the store and peered in. There he was banging away on drums and chatting with a sales rep.

  Satisfied that he was okay, they continued on their way. It wasn’t far. Maybe ten minutes at most. When they turned the corner that led up to Eddie’s, Jack’s stomach sank. His mouth went dry and he felt his pulse beginning to race. It wasn’t just that the police were in the area. Police were seen all over the city at this time of the year. It was the fact that Frank Banfield was on the scene and that meant only one thing. Someone was dead.

  10

  Jack tapped the taxi driver on the shoulder and told him to stop. He paused for a minute trying to contemplate whether to get out or have the driver turn around. He had no idea what the police had on him regarding the death of Gafino. He could find himself back in the slammer. There was no way he was going back to Rikers. It had almost killed him the first time.

  “What is it, Jack?” Dana asked.

  “Are you getting out or do you want to go somewhere else? I’ve got a business to run,” the taxi driver said.

  “Just give me a minute,” he replied.

  He stared into the crowd of people gathered outside. It had been years since he’d seen Frank. Frank was speaking with an officer when he glanced their way. He wouldn’t have been able to see who they were as they were in the back seat of the taxi and a block away. However, he might think it was a little strange that a taxi was idling on a road where there were few other vehicles.

  “Turn around, let’s go,” Jack said.

  He didn’t want to leave. Everything inside of him was screaming. He wanted to get out and see what was going on. His sister. Eddie. He thought about texting him. Shit. They would have his phone. Eddie had always taken precautions. He’d bought disposable phones but with CSI on scene, they had probably removed any computers or cell phones. He had never given his address to Eddie. In his mind the fewer people who knew about the place, the better.

  “What’s the address?”

  “Huh?”

  He was still lost in thought. Trying to process what he had seen. He looked out the back window as the taxi did a U-turn in the road and pulled away. Frank had returned to his duties. He wasn’t wanted by the police as far as he knew. Eddie hadn’t managed to dig up anything, but he wasn’t going to take any chances, at least not until he found out what was going on.

&nbs
p; “Take us to the East Star Behavioral Treatment Center.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  He sat back in his seat with a look of concern on his face.

  “Jack, what is going on?” Dana asked.

  “I don’t know yet. Just.”

  “Jack, this —”

  “Dana, please. I need a moment to think.”

  His mind was racing with every scenario he could imagine. Had the police finally tracked him down through Eddie? Had the mob arrived first? Or could this have all been a misunderstanding?

  When they arrived at the center, Jack paid the driver and told him to wait. Dana and he went inside. By now things had returned to almost normal. Any sign of the crime that had occurred a few nights ago was gone. It was business as usual, though they now had two armed guards on the door. When they approached the front desk, there was an elderly woman in front of them. She was taking forever.

  “You think I can…” Jack asked.

  The older woman turned. “Young man, you’ll have to wait your turn.”

  “Listen, I just need to know…”

  “Sir, just take a seat and we’ll be with you in a moment,” the attendant said.

  Dana tapped Jack’s wrist and they took a seat. Dana was trying to get a hold of Jason by texting him but getting no reply.

  “What do you think is going on?”

  “Whatever it is, it doesn’t feel good. I knew this was a bad idea.”

  Eventually the woman ahead of them was finished. Jack went to the front desk and enquired about his sister. They pulled up her details and said she wasn’t due to be back for another day. Jack thanked the woman. As he was leaving he glanced up at the camera. He had no idea of what had gone down. Outside, Dana slipped into the taxi. Jack gave the driver some extra money and told him to take her back to the hotel.

  “But, Jack?”

  “Just go. I need to figure out what’s going on with Eddie.”

  “And Jason?”

  “I’ll see if I can find him, but for now just go back and don’t open the door to anyone.”

  He could see the look of concern on Dana’s face. There was very little he could do right now to alleviate that other than track down Jason and get him back to the hotel. He willed his mind to relax. He had no way of knowing if this was a problem. Something in his gut didn’t feel good though.

  He watched the taxi drive away before he hailed another one and jumped in. He had the driver take him to the music store just a few blocks from their hotel. When he arrived he poked his head inside and asked the store owner if he had seen a kid resembling Jason. Like any owner whose focus was on selling, and who probably had seen countless faces that morning, he just shook his head and went back to the business of serving customers.

  “Take me to Kingsland Avenue,” he next told the driver.

  Ten minutes later they were there. He had the taxi driver drop him off a few blocks from the apartment. There was just one cruiser there. Whatever they were doing, they had probably wrapped it up and moved on to the next call. Very rarely did it take them long even if there was a dead body. The New York police were in and out. They didn’t have the luxury of a small town, where they could linger and shoot the breeze. Besides, they dealt with death on a daily basis. It was routine.

  As the taxi pulled away, he took a seat on a set of steps and waited. An hour passed before the cruiser drove away. The place was still taped off when he strolled up there. An old guy and young kid were outside. They were talking when he came up on them.

  “Anyone hurt?”

  “They took a body out of here on a stretcher. I’m guessing yeah.” The kid had an attitude.

  Jack ducked under the tape.

  “Hey, you can’t go up there,” the old man yelled.

  Jack didn’t listen, he buzzed the door for one of the other apartments.

  “Delivery.”

  The door clicked. Why people still fell for that was beyond him. Within a matter of seconds, he was on the landing. The door to Eddie’s apartment was locked. He twisted the handle. As he was doing that one of Eddie’s neighbors came out. A black woman with a huge microphone style Afro.

  “Darlin’, you got business there?”

  “Was an old friend,” he replied.

  “They locked it. You ain’t getting in there.”

  “Did Eddie give you a spare key by any chance?”

  He’d done that before with his old place, but Jack wasn’t sure how much he would have trusted the folks in this neighborhood.

  She shook her head. “Like I said, you ain’t getting in.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  He stepped back and with one brute force kick, he hit the door right at the point where the lock met the doorframe. Wood split and the door swung open. He glanced at her.

  “Or you could do that,” she said.

  She didn’t look fazed by it. Her pupils were dilated. The woman was as high as a kite. Jack knew he didn’t have long. The police could return at any moment. He just had to see for himself.

  Inside a patch of dry blood was the only sign of injury. Beyond that the place had been torn apart. Whether the mess had been made by the police or someone else was unknown. Practically anything that would have been any use to him was already taken. Computers, papers, all that remained was what you usually found in any apartment; the furniture, a bed, and kitchen items. It was cramped inside. He tried to replay in his mind what might have happened. He looked at the door. Bullet holes. Six of them. He followed the line of fire across to the wall where the bullets would have entered the drywall. CSI would have taken those. On a side table were a few photos. Nothing that he hadn’t seen before in Eddie’s last apartment.

  He moved into the bedroom, he looked through the drawers. In one was a Bible. A New King James. It was made of dark brown leather. It was an odd thing to see. Eddie wasn’t religious. He opened it and flipped through. In the front scribbled in black ink were the words:

  Hope this brings you peace, John Dalton.

  As he was about to place it back in the drawer, a photo slipped out. It looked like a recent photo of Eddie. Behind him, a city. It didn’t look like New York as there were palm trees. Beside him was a young man. He was the spitting image of Eddie. But Eddie didn’t have kids, did he? He had never mentioned once traveling. Who was this person? Jack ripped the front page out of the Bible and pocketed the photo. He went back out of the room and checked the guest bedroom. That was where Milly would have been. He looked around for anything that belonged to her, but there was nothing. Returning to the living area he went over to the drink cabinet and pressed the button on the side. To anyone else it would look like a typical cabinet. You could even pull down the cupboard door in front and see bottles of alcohol. However, Jack had seen Eddie years ago retrieve a gun from it. The button on the side look like a part of the cabinet, it was built that way so that no one would know. Jack pressed it and a concealed side door flipped down. The handguns were gone but the assault rifle was there. There was no way he was going to be able to walk out of there with it. He ran his hand underneath the shelf inside the hidden compartment and found the keys. Eddie stored anything that was of value in a storage area in New Jersey.

  His mind was racing, thinking about what had happened. Someone from the mob might have shown up and Eddie could have taken them out. Worst-case scenario, he’d been shot. Perhaps he wasn’t dead. Maybe the old man outside had got it wrong.

  Jack turned to leave when he heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. He could have ducked out the window and used the fire escape but with it being a crime scene, he didn’t want to give the police reason to chase him. He shut the hidden compartment just as they walked in.

  “Jack Winchester.”

  It was Frank Banfield.

  “How did I know you were caught up in this?”

  Jack turned around and gave a wry smile.

  “Been a long time, Frank. It’s got to be, what? Five years?”

/>   “What are you doing here, Jack?”

  “I came to see Eddie. I was meant to see him and my sister this morning.”

  “Where have you been living?”

  “Here. There.”

  Frank strolled over to the window while another police detective stood at the door. Frank looked out and breathed in deeply.

  “Eddie is dead.”

  “What?” Jack replied.

  “You know anything about this?”

  “What about my sister?” he asked.

  “She wasn’t here. Whoever killed him took her.”

  “So she’s alive?”

  “If our witness is telling the truth, yes.”

  Jack could feel rage rising in him and a mix of desperation and anger.

  “Right, well, I’ll leave you to it.”

  “Can’t do that, Jack. I’m going to have to take you down to the station.”

  “For what?”

  “Until we find out what’s going on here, you’re not just going to disappear again.”

  “You can’t hold me.”

  “In fact I can. Breaking and entering.”

  “Oh please, really?”

  Frank cocked his head to one side.

  Within a matter of minutes, they had taken him out to an unmarked car and whisked him away to the Midtown South Precinct. Lines of police cars parked at diagonal angles faced the front entrance of a tall brown building. It was one of the most modern-looking police precincts in New York. Not like some of the rundown ones that looked as if they hadn’t seen a lick of paint since the eighties.

  Jack was brought into an interrogation room. It was square with a two-way mirror, and a camera. One single table and two chairs.

  “Can I get you some coffee?” Frank asked.

  “No, I don’t plan on staying here long,” Jack answered.

  Frank chuckled and walked out. He returned five minutes later. Removed his suit and took a seat.

  “Man. It’s been a long time. How did it go in Rikers?”

  “Slow.”

  Frank snorted as he flipped through some paperwork in front of him. He twisted around a couple of photos and placed them in front of Jack. Jack immediately recognized them.