Slipknot: A Private Investigator Crime and Suspense Mystery Thriller (California Corwin P. I. Mystery Series Book 3)

by D. D. VanDyke

  A chill passed through me. Not Mom’s voice.

  Chapter 16

  “Who is this?” I said, my gut twisting.

  “You know who this is. I’m getting tired of playing this game with you, Ms. Corwin, so I’ve had to take extreme measures. I have your mother. If you want her to live to see her next birthday, you’ll trade yourself for her.”

  Dammit! At that moment I wished I’d used my cell. I’d have tried to keep her talking while I ran the two blocks home and tried to catch her by surprise. “So you can kill us both?” I said, furiously trying to think of an angle.

  “I give you my word I’ll leave her in peace once our business is done. She obviously knows nothing, and is no threat to anyone.”

  As I listened, I grabbed my cell phone and texted Meat: come to office now, fast. They shouldn’t be too far away. Then I speed-dialed Tanner Brody.

  When he answered, I said into both phones, “But you still want to kill me, right, Old Maid?”

  “I really don’t much care for that nickname.”

  Tanner babbled something in my ear, but I had no attention to spare for him. I had to hope he picked up on what was happening.

  “So you’ve been waiting in my house for me to call, or show up so you can kill me? I bet you don’t even have my mother. I’m hanging up now.”

  “If you do, she’ll die, and I’ll keep coming.”

  “Apparently I can take care of myself. How many times have you missed so far? Three? More? You killed that Hade woman by mistake, and I had you in my gunsights on the side of the road. This last time, you poisoned the wrong person. How do you even stay in business?” Keep her talking, I told myself, and pray that Tanner got the message.

  “You’ve proven resourceful, I’ll give you that. Now shut up and listen.”

  “And if I don’t, you’ll kill her? Blah, blah. You’ve only got that one card. What if I don’t want to play?”

  “I hear you’ve been off your game lately,” she replied.

  “Keep her talking. I’ve got units on the way,” Tanner said. Thank God he was a quick study.

  “Yeah, you know what they say about being unlucky at cards.”

  The Old Maid chuckled. “What’s that?”

  “Lucky in love? You ever been in love?”

  “No. Go to the very end of Pier 39 right now and await my call, or she dies. No cops, or she dies.”

  “You have my cell number?” I said, but she clicked off. “Dammit, Tanner, she hung up. She wants me to head for the end of Pier 39, and she said no cops, so marked units are out. Can you round up the decoy squad, fast?” Decoy squad was a unit that lived and worked like street people, mostly gathering intel, but they’d make arrests if they needed to. In this case, I needed cops that didn’t look anything like cops: not uniforms, not suits.

  “I’ll try, but this is really short notice, and I have to bring Jay in. I’m just a rookie shield.”

  “Of course. Tell him my mom’s been kidnapped. He may not like me much, but he likes her. That’ll get him moving.” I didn’t tell him I was sure Starlight had given Jay a few rolls in the hay back in the day, cop or no cop. Maybe she thought of it as subversion.

  “Will do.”

  “And Tanner, the M&Ms will be around somewhere. Make sure the boys and girls know they’re on our side.”

  “You got it, Cal.”

  I ran upstairs to change out of the outfit and into jeans, cross-trainers and a sweatshirt in two minutes flat. When I raced back down, I felt like myself again. “Mickey, the shit just hit the fan. The Old Maid has my mom and I’m going to Pier 39 to meet her. If I don’t come back, there’s an envelope taped under my desk for you.”

  Mickey stood up. “What? Don’t come back? What does that mean?”

  “Get killed, Mickey. If I get killed. Because I’m pretty sure somebody’s going to die tonight.”

  “Then I’m coming with you.” He grabbed his tent-like hoodie and pulled it on.

  “No way. You’re a hacker, Mickey, not a cop.”

  “That means I don’t look like a cop, or even a thug like the M&Ms. I’ll be invisible.”

  “No.”

  “You can’t stop me.”

  “I don’t have to give you a ride.”

  “The M&Ms will.”

  “Why should they?”

  “I helped them out with a little…warrant problem before.”

  “Warrant problem?”

  Mickey grinned. “I have a back door into Oakland PD too.”

  “Mickey, you’re just full of surprises.”

  That only made him smile wider.

  “Okay. Ride with them and do what they say. Tell them to give you a vest for under that hoodie. I have no idea how this is going to play out.”

  “I thought you said the Old Maid likes poison.”

  “Yes, but last time she used an air gun and darts. Maybe this time she’ll discover the joys of firearms…and she has help. Thomas made at least one contractor working with her. Male, white, twenties, probably ex-military.”

  “Thomas?”

  Damn my slip. I hadn’t told him about Thomas, and I still didn’t want to. “Someone up in Granger’s Ford.” I saw the blazing lights from the M&Ms’ truck pull up near the back of the gated lot. “There they are. Let’s go.”

  I ran to brief the two big men while Mickey climbed into the truck. “This is turning into a real goat-rope, guys, and I’m sorry. I have no idea what we’re facing here. You don’t have to do it.”

  “We ain’t gonna bail on you now, Cal,” said Manson.

  “Besides, I know the payoff’s going to be juicy,” said Meat with a wink.

  “I hope your medical insurance is paid up,” I said without any humor of my own.

  “What’s a few bullets between friends? And we can’t let yo’ moms down.”

  “Yeah. Thanks for the backup.” I pressed tears out of my eyes as I geared up with vest and Security windbreaker, and then hurried to the rental.

  I hauled ass through the damp evening streets, down to the North Beach area and Fisherman’s Wharf. Pier 39 formed the touristy part, a combination of upscale bars, restaurants and attractions such as carousels, magic shows, whale tours, an aquarium and more.

  It was flanked on the west by docks for a fleet of small trawlers that brought fresh seafood directly to the eateries, and on the east side by a marina full of yachts and sailboats. Beyond the marina, cruise ships loomed, their enormous bulks supporting lights that gave each the combined allure of a casino and an amusement park.

  I pulled into the commercial parking lot, mostly deserted this time of might. The M&Ms parked ten spots away so as not to be too obvious. God knew what they’d have Mickey do. No more than watch and carry a walkie, I hoped.

  I set mine to our standard channel, clipped it to my collar and spoke into it. “Comms check, over.”

  “Got you, boss,” Mickey said, confirming my suspicions. I only hoped he’d stay well back.

  “Stand by.” I called Ron. He’d never forgive me if something happened to Mom and I hadn’t even tried to tell him about it. I got his voice mail, so I left a message.

  Next I called Brody. “Is the decoy squad here yet?”

  “Ten minutes, they said, and that’s pretty good. You should wait.”

  “I can’t afford to seem like I’m stalling. I’ll do my best to seem confused and lost, but your guys need to hurry.”

  “Dammit, Cal, be careful.” I heard real concern in his voice.

  “I’m not the careful type, Tanner. You might want to call for an ambulance, no sirens. Just in case.”

  “Way ahead of you. Oh, Jay says good luck and good hunting.”

  I chuckled. “See? He doesn’t waste time trying to tell me to be careful.”

  “He doesn’t care about you like I do.”

  A million eligible women within a two-mile radius and he wanted me. This exchange confirmed my belief that cops were unreasonably attracted to people like themselves, in
this case other cops – okay, ex-cops – who had boobs.

  “Stay on the line, Tanner.” I slipped the open phone into my inside breast pocket. Then I strode onto Pier 39 and began wandering among the tourist traps. The place looked like a cross between an open-air shopping mall and someone’s vision of a quaint downtown, a fifth of a mile long and fifty yards wide.

  The phone in my pocket beeped and I took the call, putting Tanner on hold.

  “Your mother’s getting cold. Better hurry. She’s not dressed for this weather,” the Old Maid said.

  “I’m on the pier now.”

  “Come to the end, like I said.”

  “Keep your panties on.” I switched her off. “Tanner?”

  “Still here.”

  “She called. Said my mom was getting cold, and repeated her instructions to go to the end. Can you get a helo over here?”

  “I’ll ask Jay, but it’s not likely to be soon. Nothing in the air right now, as far as I know.”

  “What about Oakland?” They kept a bird up constantly in that gang-ridden city, and it was right across the Bay.

  “Like I said, I’ll ask.”

  Did I say this was a goat-rope? No plan and everything on the fly.

  I sweated in the cold, stiff breeze, and the crowds were thinning as the usual evening fog was starting to thicken. Working my way along the west edge of the pier brought me alongside the sea lion colony that formed one of the attractions. Hundreds of the animals could be seen in the wan moonlight, resting on forty or so platforms built for them.

  With no civilians closer than a hundred yards, I drew my Glock, keeping it low as I followed the railed edge of the pier around toward its end. My steps stuttered as I spotted a figure sitting on the five-foot-wide, hundred-yard-long concrete breakwater a hundred feet from me, across a short stretch of water.

  Mom.

  She might as well have been a mile away.

  “My mom’s on the west breakwater across from the end of the pier,” I said into my radio, loud enough for Tanner to hear through the open phone line. “We need a boat.”

  “A boat?” I heard Meat say. “We don’t know nothin’ ’bout no boats.”

  “I do,” said Mickey.

  “Commandeer something from the marina, bribe somebody, steal it, I don’t care,” I snapped. “Just get her off the breakwater.”

  The beep came again on my phone, and I answered.

  “I see you. Come to the rail,” the Old Maid said.

  I did as I was told, though I paced up and down, checking the area warily. Lights mounted on the buildings illuminated me, making anything inland hard to see.

  “Stand still,” she said.

  “So you can shoot me? No thanks.”

  “Then I’ll shoot your mother.”

  Trying to stall, I said, “You do and you’ll lose me. Houdini isn’t paying you to kill bystanders.”

  “I don’t think he’ll care much, as long as I get the job done. Now stand still.”

  I didn’t. “What’s wrong? You afraid you’ll miss again? I can see why you’re on the second string. Take your shot, you old biddy.”

  “I suppose I will.” Something in her voice told me she’d had enough.

  “Starlight! Run!” I yelled it as loud as I could, waving frantically to catch her attention. “Run away!” There was no cover and no way off the freestanding breakwater, but at least she might make herself a difficult target, and she could move to the far end.

  Instead, she rolled off the concrete of the near side, falling six feet into the water with a splash.

  Chapter 17

  “She’s in the water,” I yelled into the radio. “We need that boat, now!”

  “Trying!” Mickey said.

  I had no idea how encumbered Mom was. She swam well, but if her hands and feet were bound, she wouldn’t last long in the cold Pacific water. Ignoring my own peril, I holstered my Glock and began to strip for a dive.

  Steps sounded behind me and I dropped to a crouch, reaching to draw as I heard a report and felt a sharp blow to my side. Adrenaline allowed me to ignore the pain, though I’d pay later. I continued the motion, turning into a textbook kneeling stance and extending my weapon.

  Another blow struck my chest plate, then another. This guy was a crack shot, but he didn’t know about my body armor. I unloaded at the dimly seen figure in the shadows. I had no idea if I hit him – or her – but he disappeared, moving farther into the darkness.

  “Shots fired! I could use some backup here!” I yelled into the radio as I ejected the Glock’s magazine and slammed in a new one, hoping Tanner could still hear me on the open phone.

  Feet pounded on the concrete of the pier, and a man and a woman in ragged street clothes approached me, weapons drawn, badges hanging from their necks. “Put the gun down, now!” the man yelled.

  I set my Glock flat on the ground and tore off my windbreaker, noting the holes in it. “Shots fired from over there,” I said, pointing, “and the hostage is in the water!” I could feel the bruises where small-caliber bullets had struck my vest, and I silently thanked God the shooter hadn’t had something heavier. A rifle round could have punched right through.

  I continued to strip out of my vest and hardware. I could see Mom floating, so at least she hadn’t sunk.

  The woman had already turned to cover us while the man shucked his jacket and shoes alongside me. He had less to divest himself of, so despite my head start we ended up jumping into the chill water at the same time.

  The shock of the cold threatened to paralyze my bruised ribcage, but I gritted my teeth and powered through it, remembering my mother. Our splashes got the sea lions chattering. I hoped they wouldn’t come try to play.

  A low-slung speedboat motored around the end of the breakwater. For a moment I thought it must be the M&Ms and Mickey, but it had come from the wrong direction and only contained one occupant.

  Something struck the water near me. “She’s shooting!” I said to my companion, and then dove under and continued swimming toward Mom.

  When I popped to the surface, I heard gunshots, of a firearm rather than an air rifle. Pushing hard, I reached Mom. “Are you all right?”

  Starlight smiled, floating on her back. “Hello, California. Look at the moon. Isn’t he gorgeous?”

  “What?” I grabbed her collar and started pulling her, sidestroke, away from the Old Maid’s boat.

  Her voice was dreamy. “When I was seventeen, we went skinny-dipping in the Bay just to show The Man we didn’t care about his unnatural and outmoded body taboos.”

  “Jeez, Mom, are you high?”

  Fortunately, she remained docile, “You’re a good girl, California. I forgive you for missing our anniversary.”

  The Old Maid’s speedboat roared off, to be replaced by another, larger craft, a modest motor yacht at least thirty feet long. A civilian piloted it, the M&Ms and Mickey visible on deck.

  “Over there!” the female undercover officer yelled from the rail, pointing, and soon they pulled us aboard.

  I shivered violently on the deck, hugging Mom. “Blankets,” I said through chattering teeth.

  Half an hour later, the paramedics released my mother into my custody after determining she wasn’t hypothermic and whatever had her acting loopy presented no danger. I’d refused treatment for my bruised ribs. There really wasn’t anything to be done.

  “Your shooter is long gone,” Brody told me, his toothpick bobbing with his speech. “Shooters, I should say. A fast boat can be anywhere in the bay in ten minutes, and running without lights…”

  “One helicopter would have changed everything,” I said with evident rancor, staring idly at the marked units and their flashing lights, late to the party as usual. The uniforms had taken statements from witnesses, but most of those had been too far away to see anything.

  “Sorry. Jay wouldn’t push to scramble. The department is over budget already, and the Oakland bird was chasing bad guys. Don’t worry, though. Now tha
t we have a kidnapping and a confirmed attempt on your life, not to mention Hade’s homicide, there’s a BOLO for your Old Maid and her assistant. That should shut her down even if we don’t catch her.”

  “For a while. The only long-run security is taking down Houdini.”

  Brody snorted. “Good luck with that.”

  “Thanks for the support.”

  “Hey, don’t be that way. I only meant that if the feds haven’t done it, you got an uphill battle.”

  “All the best battles are uphill, Tanner. And the feds haven’t really put their minds to it. Law enforcement doesn’t fight the trafficking of prescription medication nearly as hard as they do street drugs.”

  He nodded. “Priorities. Can’t really blame them. Middle-class or wealthy abusers with jobs are mostly nonviolent, invisible. The victims don’t report. Most don’t think they’re victims, or that it’s ‘really’ drug dealing.”

  “Are they victims if they do it to themselves?”

  “Maybe not. Maybe they’re the perpetrators, funneling money into the pockets of people like Houdini.”

  “In this case I hope the feds will make an exception. This isn’t turning out to be ‘nonviolent,’ not to mention the original kidnapping, grand theft, probable stock manipulation, and…”

  I was about to say ‘political dirty tricks,’ when I asked myself why. The recent events in Granger’s Ford were only tangentially related to the Houdini mess, at least on the surface. In fact, I didn’t have one bit of hard evidence linking the situations. However, my subconscious, my cop sense if you will, wanted to connect the two in more than a six-degrees-of-separation sort of way.

  I held up a hand to forestall Brody’s commentary. “I need to get Mom home, and I need to think, okay, Tanner? Thanks for everything. I owe you.”

  “You can buy the dinner, then,” he replied with a grin. A wider, grin, that was. How could he be so relentlessly upbeat? It was endearing and exhausting at the same time. His attitude promised too much, unlike Thomas’ cool, worldly detachment. Outside the bedroom, that is. Inside, Thomas was completely focused on me. I guess that was all about the chemistry. I couldn’t account for it otherwise.