Extreme Heat Warning: A Shallow End Gals Trilogy, Book Two

by Graybosch, Vicki

  The man in the chair answered, “Well, like they say in the movies, I can be your best friend or your worst enemy. I made myself a cup of tea. Hope it’s okay.”

  William had pulled his blanket up under his chin. His voice was trembling, “What do you want?”

  Mathew Core answered, “Most of your money. I know how much you have, everywhere. I helped you hide it.”

  William felt an icy chill spread throughout his body. He now had a pretty good idea who this guy was. Shit. William’s voice was barely a whisper, “I don’t understand.”

  Mathew set the cup down and leaned forward, “An FBI team arrived in town yesterday. They’re looking for you and Devon. They will find you. Maybe in hours, weeks, or months, but they will find you. I want half of all your money now, and another twenty-five percent after you are located somewhere safe with another new identity.”

  William was stunned but said, “How do I know this is true?”

  Mathew stood up and showed William a photo of a group of officers standing over a body. “This was taken an hour ago. Six blocks from here.”

  William counted at least ten officers in the crowd. “Who is the dead guy? Is it Devon?”

  Mathew simply said, “Not Devon. Yet.”

  William’s mind was spinning, “I can’t leave! I have a new life now, I have plans…”

  Mathew chuckled, “How many of your plans can you do dead?” Mathew tossed a card and the photo on William’s bed and said, “I wouldn’t wait too long to make a decision. Even I need a little time to prepare.” He smiled and walked out of the room. William never heard the door open or shut when he left. The guy was a ghost.

  William dialed Devon. No answer. He was shouting at the phone, “Pick up you asshole!” He threw his phone across the room and began pacing. He didn’t want to leave! He didn’t want to get caught. Damn! How did they find out he was in New Orleans anyway? It had to be Devon. He did something! William went over and picked up his phone and dialed Devon again. Still no answer!

  Amy was shaking Rebecca’s shoulders and hissing, “Wake up!” Rebecca moaned and then her eyes opened wide.

  She started crying, “Amy, Amy, what is going to happen to us?”

  Amy said, “We are going to get out of here! Do you have anything long and pointed?”

  Rebecca’s brow furrowed, “What?”

  Amy said, “I think I can pick the lock, I need something long and pointed.”

  Rebecca started patting her chest, “Where’s my bra?”

  Amy was shaking her head, “Becca, you have to listen to me! Don’t worry about your bra. Do you have anything long and pointed?”

  Rebecca frowned and said, “In my bra, those support things under the cup.”

  Amy jumped up and started searching the room. “Where is it?” she was frantic. She found the bra in the bathroom and tore it apart removing one of the long support wires. She held it up, “This is too fat! Take off your bracelet!”

  Rebecca gave Amy her bracelet, tried to stand and fell down, “There’s something wrong with my legs!”

  Amy said, “We’ve been drugged. Start trying to move around, it will help.”

  Rebecca started crying, “Where is he? Is he coming back?”

  Amy went over and gave her a hug. “Look, I am doing a little better than you are right now. I am going to try to pick that stupid lock, and we are going to escape. Just concentrate on that. Get yourself dressed.” Amy was wildly untwisting the braided wire on Rebecca’s bracelet. She finally had a strand that looked long enough to use.

  Amy crawled over to the door. It was still hard for her to walk more than a few steps at a time. Her muscles felt like Jell-O, and she was fighting the urge to lie down and sleep. She looked over at Rebecca who was asleep on the floor. Amy positioned herself next to the door and looked up at the underside of the door handle. She had to make several tries, but she finally got the wire into the hole and pushed up. She heard a hissing sound and knew the hydraulic pressure was being released from the lock. She tried the handle. It moved part way and hit resistance. Her arm felt like concrete, and it was hard to keep a grip on the thin wire.

  Amy inserted the wire again and heard the pressure release again. Then she heard a click. She pulled down on the handle. The door opened. She could hear a phone ringing in the background. It sounded like it was coming from upstairs. He must be home if his phone is here. Amy started to crawl back to Rebecca. She told herself she had to save them. It was now or never. When she reached Rebecca, she slapped her, hard. Rebecca’s eyes flew open, and Amy whispered, “The door is open! You have to stand up. This is your life Becca. Help me save you.”

  Rebecca grabbed the side of the bed and began pulling herself up. She was hanging on to Amy, and they both fell to the floor. Amy said, “Fine, then we’re crawling out of here.”

  Roger had arranged for cars to be delivered to them from the field office. One car for Thor and Jeanne, one for Nelson and Pablo, and one for Paul and him. If all went right, they would have Devon yet today. Roger and Paul got in their car. “Put the light on the dash. I think we are going to need it to get through these streets and park where we want. Let’s get these gloves. Jeanne told me about him wearing them. I count that as dot number one.”

  Paul laughed, “Hey, I’ll take any dots you can muster.” Paul turned on the dash light, and they drove straight to the pharmacy listed on the receipt.

  It turned out to be located across from the French Quarter Bank branch Ellen said Amy and Rebecca worked at. Paul pointed, “Dot number two. We left the Bank, I had a headache, we came here for aspirin, and we asked about gloves.”

  Roger said, “Works for me.”

  They walked into the pharmacy and asked to speak to the manager. The pharmacist came over and asked if he could help them. Roger showed him both the receipt and his badge and asked if he could identify the purchaser. The pharmacist was rubbing his chin and said, “I can describe the guy, but I don’t know his name.”

  Roger had noticed the receipt was for cash and asked, “Has he ever filled a prescription here?”

  The pharmacist answered, “Yeah, let me think. He got some pain scripts after some nose surgery. Gosh, when was that?” Paul was going out of his mind waiting for an answer. Roger realized he was rubbing the handle of his gun and stopped. It was making the pharmacist nervous.

  Roger asked, “How does he know when his glove order is in? Has he left a phone number or anything?”

  The pharmacist was shaking his head, “Nooooooo, I don’t think so, he just stops in. Huh, I remember having to go in the back and look for him once. He was pretty insistent they should be here, and he was running low. You know I think he took a phone call that day while he was here, and it sounded like he was a lawyer or something.” Paul was ready to scream. Then the pharmacist said, “I remember now, he had a nose job the same day my wife did. Same doctor. Let me check my records.” He went behind the counter and produced a copy of a prescription. The Pharmacist scrunched his mouth as he hung on to the paper, “Can I give this to you? Don’t you need a warrant or something?”

  Roger said, “This is a very important case. I can have a Federal Warrant issued and delivered here. In the meantime, I am not leaving. My car stays out front with the light on.” The pharmacist handed the copy of the script to Roger. The script was written to Michael Parker. They had a name.

  Roger and Paul thanked the pharmacist and walked across the street to the French Quarter Bank branch. Paul said, “Jesus! Could that guy think any slower?”

  Roger said, “I know, but we have a name! Let’s see what we can get in here.” Roger called Ray as they entered the bank building, “Start looking for any Michael Parker in New Orleans.”

  Ray answered, “I was just going to call you. Just tied one of the accounts you gave me on the five million dollar transfer to a Michael Parker. The account is at French Quarter Bank, I have the number for you.”

  Roger wrote it down, looked at Paul, and said, “We have
Parker’s account number here.”

  They walked up to a teller station and asked if the manager was there. They were told he was on the phone and would be a minute. The teller walked very slowly toward a back office to deliver the note that he was needed up front.

  Paul looked at Roger and said, “I am getting the impression nobody moves very fast in this town.”

  Eventually the branch manager came to the teller window and said, “May I help you gentlemen?” He had on a light blue cotton suit and a pink dress shirt with a blue tie. Paul thought he looked like he had been shopping with the cabby.

  Roger flashed his badge and said “FBI. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  The manager started fanning himself with some papers he was holding and said, “I just don’t know how much more I can take this morning.” Paul and Roger looked at each other.

  Roger noticed there were only two tellers working and the lines in the lobby were beginning to reach the door. When they got into the office, Roger asked, “Are you short help? It looks pretty busy out there.”

  The manager sat heavily in his chair and gestured for them to sit down. “I have two girls decided not to show up today, a customer who showed up and insisted on making a cash withdrawal of practically everything we had available, and now you.”

  Roger said, “I am hoping you will cooperate with me and not force me to seize this branch until a warrant can be drawn up.”

  The managers eyes grew huge, “Seize the branch? For what?”

  Roger continued, “This is what I want. I want the names of the two tellers who didn’t show this morning and their phone numbers. We suspect foul play. I also want any information you can give me on this account and the account holder.”

  The branch manager was stunned, “You sure got here fast! Amy and Rebecca didn’t have to start work until 10:00, and it’s only 10:30.” He looked at Roger and Paul, “You can get your warrant whenever you want. Or not. We don’t cotton to formalities here in Nawlens. Give me that account number.”

  Roger passed it over to him, and he began typing into his computer with two fingers, very slowly. Paul was rolling his neck and fidgeting in his seat.

  Finally Paul stood up and said, “Can I look at your personnel files while you are doing that. Maybe one of the tellers can pull Amy and Rebecca’s files for me?”

  The manager nodded his head and said, “Shoot. You got me so nervous I have to start again.” He was pressing the delete button one press per second. Roger looked pleadingly at Paul. Paul had to race from the room to keep from laughing. He knew Roger was ready to shoot the guy.

  Paul walked behind the tellers and announced, “FBI. Everyone be patient, I need the services of one of these tellers, for a minute or so, and then you can get back to what you were doing.” Everyone gasped and the tellers looked at each other like they were in shock. Paul pointed at the closest one to him and asked, “Do you know where the personnel files are kept?” She nodded, slowly. Paul tilted his head, “Let’s go. Now.”

  Paul had made the copies of the files himself since he didn’t want to wait for the teller to do it. Roger left the bank manager’s office with a few sheets of paper in his hand and gestured to Paul that he was ready. They practically ran back to the car and burst out laughing as soon as they closed the door. Paul finally said, “Oh my God! I couldn’t live here. I would shoot everybody!”

  Roger laughed, “Let’s see what we have.” In the personnel files they had cell numbers for both girls. Roger called Ray and asked him to see if they were on.

  Ray answered, “Do you know who services them? Of course you don’t. I will find them if they are on, ping them, and send you the location.”

  Roger smiled, “It’s so nice having you back.”

  Ray answered. “Yeah.”

  Paul asked, “Do we have anything that says this Mike Parker might be Devon?”

  Roger said, “No. We don’t even have an address. He opted for internet banking and doesn’t have a street address for statements. The bank must have an address for him somewhere. Signature card?” Roger looked at Paul, “I’m going back in. Call Nelson and Manigat to look up all three of these names. Amy, Rebecca, and Parker. Find any real estate tied to any of them, especially Parker.” After about twenty minutes Roger came back to the car. “I cannot believe there is no address of record for Mike Parker. He even has State of Louisiana listed as his beneficiary.”

  Paul said, “Wasn’t there an address on the phone bill?”

  Roger said, “Shit, I forgot all about that!” Roger dug through his briefcase and produced the phone bill. No street address, but we have a mailbox service. Roger called Ray back to get the address of the nearest office of Mailbox Service, Inc..

  Jeremiah and Alan had returned from Mambo’s and were tying the boat to the cypress log when they noticed a car pull onto the property. Jeanne and a man got out and walked over to them. Jeanne hugged Jeremiah, and he introduced her to Alan. Jeanne introduced SSA Dan Thor to both of them. Alan looked surprised, straightened his posture, and asked, “Did you say FBI?”

  He looked at Jeremiah who pointed at Jeanne and said, “She’s one of ‘em too.” Jeremiah looked at Jeanne. “Alan and I just hooked up that fridge for Mambo. You should’ve seen her face. She’s not giving that away! I took her some popsicles and put ‘em in the freezer part.” Jeremiah had a huge smile on his face.

  Jeanne could tell Jeremiah was already tired, and he was wearing his patch which meant his eye was bothering him. “Jeremiah, we have to go to Mambo’s and get that woman. Can Alan take us?”

  Alan said, “I got time, I’m just not sure I remember how to get there.”

  Jeremiah said, “If none of you had a big breakfast, we could probably do it. That be five people which is about two too many.” Thor and Jeanne looked at each other. Then Jeremiah said, “Hell, Jeanne there don’t count as a whole person. Neither does that lady at Mambo’s. Alan, you steer, and I’ll tell you where to go.”

  Thor did not like the fact they had to debate whether or not the boat could handle the weight of them all. The last thing he wanted this morning, other than meeting Mambo, was to sink in a swamp. They all piled in, carefully distributing their weight. Only about six inches of clearance was between the deck of the boat and the water line.

  About fifty feet from where they pushed off, Jeremiah looked at Jeanne and asked, “You bring your gun?” Jeanne pulled it out, and Jeremiah pointed to a rapidly approaching large water moccasin. Jeanne shot it just as Thor saw it. Thor drew his weapon, and Jeremiah pointed to the other side of the boat at one for him. Thor missed his first two shots and had to shoot again. A wiggling snake, underwater, accelerating, was not the easiest target. Jeremiah said, “We sittin’ so low they can flop right on the deck. Best you guys keep your eyes open. Don’t be shootin’ the bottom of this boat! We got us a storm coming, and they’re lookin’ to eat their fill. Always bad when a storm comin’.”

  Thor looked at Jeanne who was smiling at him. Thor frowned, “You are one sick broad if you are enjoying this!” Just then Thor saw a huge alligator slink from the shore into the water.

  Jeremiah turned to him, “You leave them alone.”

  Jeremiah and Jeanne said at the same time, “You are the last thing he wants for dinner.” They laughed. Thor was convinced Roger had sent him to hell.

  Alan looked at Thor, “I’m with you man. This is not fun.” As soon as Alan said that a large snake plopped onto the boat right by Alan’s ankle. Jeanne threw her knife and killed it just as it started to coil to spring. She inched over trying not to tip the boat, yanked her knife back, and kicked the snake into the water.

  Jeremiah said, “That was probably a nest we went through. It might not be bad ‘til we get to Mambo’s. She got some big ones over that side. Mind the trees, they like trees.” Thor’s head spun around as he scrutinized every branch above them.

  Jeanne had been looking at the boat, and she asked Jeremiah, “What is in that box on the front there?
Right in front of Alan?” She was thinking that it might be something they could leave at Mambo’s to reduce their weight load.

  Jeremiah answered, “Most in there are them bones I told you about. Must be about four or five people in there.”

  Alan lost it, “People bones? Uncle Jeremiah, what in the hell is going on?”

  Thor started walking toward the front of the boat to look, and they started taking on water. Everyone yelled at him to go back and sit down. Thor looked at Jeanne, “Bones?”

  Jeanne nodded. “Yup. Jeremiah found them where he found me.”

  Thor decided he had to call Roger. When Roger answered, Thor asked, “Is Paul with you? Put this on speaker.” A moment later Roger told Thor he was on speaker, and they had pulled over to hear him. Roger told Thor they might have Devon’s alias already. Thor said, “Of course you do. You’ll probably catch the bastard before lunch! I’m on a sinkin’ swamp boat with Annie Oakley here, with a box of five dead people on the boat! I can’t look at the bones because we have to keep shooting snakes! But not the Alligators…. nooooo…they’re our friends. And if I move my fat ass one inch on this boat, we are going to sink. Just thought you two would want to know what happened to us!” Roger and Paul were trying not to make any noise, but their laughter kept breaking through in little bursts. Paul had to leave the car. Roger told Thor to keep him posted. After he hung up he realized how cold and unsupportive that sounded, but that was all his brain could bring him to say. He struggled to get those words out.

  Paul got back in the car and could barely speak, “What did you tell him?”

  Roger spit out, “I told him to keep me posted.”

  “He told you he was in a sinking swamp boat, calls you for help, and you told him to keep you posted? At what point does he ‘post’ you again? When he’s underwater? You are going to hear about this.” Roger looked at the card Special Agent Frank Mass had given him and called to request help.

  When Agent Mass answered, Roger asked him if he had access to a swamp boat that could go to Mambo’s behind Honey Island. Frank answered the boats he could get were too big to get that far down the swamp. You need a special flat bottom boat. Frank didn’t think any of his guys would go to Mambo’s.