Her Last Breath - Debt Collector 9 (A Jack Winchester Thriller)

by Jon Mills

  “And tips?”

  “Tips?” She let out a laugh as the waitress came over and placed a coffee before her. “Nancy, he wants to know how much we make in tips in this town. You want to tell him?”

  She just rolled her eyes and walked away.

  “Does that answer it?”

  He shrugged, then looked at her arm. She caught him staring, and she pulled up her sleeve. “No, I’m not a junkie. Not all of us are. Though I’ve considered it. Just trying to make ends meet and keep my head above water is enough to make anyone want to numb out. But no, I have a kid to think about.”

  “So did some of the women that went missing.”

  “If you did what we do, you would want to take drugs. You think I like doing it? There are some dirty old men out there, and many that are married.”

  “So how long are you going to keep this up? I mean, surely you must be worried about the recent string of deaths.”

  “Yeah, I am. But I have mouths to feed. I figure if it happens, it happens. Nothing I can do about it.”

  “So you work for someone, or just yourself?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “Myself.”

  Jack took a hard pull on his coffee. He’d met all manner of girls on the street when he was living in New York. Among the many enterprises his old boss used to run, prostitution was one of them. He met the women. Most of them were clean, girls who just wanted to escape the streets. At least working with a pimp came with protection from the johns. Pimps would park outside and the women had ways of letting them know if they were in trouble, or concerned about the john.

  “And what about Bonnie? What was all that about in the bar the other night?”

  Meghan stirred her cup.

  “Aaron used to be her pimp. He’d set up deals with johns and pocket the lion’s share of the profits. When she got pregnant by her boyfriend and refused to get an abortion, he went ballistic on her. She spent several days in the hospital for that. Nearly lost her baby. The police hauled him in and tossed his loser ass in jail. In the meantime, she managed to get her life together. Contrary to what some people think, she doesn’t do it anymore. She’s worked out a pretty good deal with the owner of the bar and is the only full-time staff member. So it covers her bills. She could use some extra money but couldn’t we all. I admire her grit for walking away from it.”

  “So he doesn’t want her to walk away?”

  “No, he doesn’t give two shits about her. He wants her to suffer for turning him in. He has shown up several nights a week since he’s been out. Usually, after he’s had a couple, he tries to get into it with her.”

  “And the cops?”

  Meghan sipped at her coffee and then chuckled. “The cops in this town are a joke. Well, I say that but Larson seems to be trying to change things. He’s the only decent one in the department.” She got this glint in her eyes. “Did you know that one of them even sleeps with some of the…” She made quotation marks with her fingers in the air, “‘escorts’ in the area? Did you know that?”

  “It doesn’t surprise me.”

  She smiled. “Now you are starting to sound like a local.”

  Four guys came into the diner, and Jack noticed that one of them was from the group that he’d roughed up at the bar the previous night. He had short hair, tattoos and was wearing dirty jeans and a white T-shirt. His lip was swollen, and he had one hell of a bruise around his eye socket. The man never took his eyes off Jack for even a moment.

  “What can I get you boys?” Nancy said, leading them into a booth on the far side of the room.

  “The usual, Nancy.”

  One of them was telling some story to the others, and they all cracked up laughing, except for the one guy who kept leering at Jack. Meghan looked over and then back at Jack.

  “Just ignore him.”

  Ignoring people in New York would get you killed. He always had to have his wits about him. He noticed the guy pull out a cell phone and slip out from the rest of the group to find a quiet space to speak. He stepped outside and every few seconds he would glance back in the window. Now it wasn’t a hard guess to figure who he was contacting. When he came back in he threw a smirk Jack’s way and sat back down.

  “So you met up with Jenna then?” Jack continued.

  “Yeah, sometime after midnight. I had one more client that I was meant to see in Green Bank but he bailed at the last minute, so she brought me back home.”

  “What do you mean he bailed?”

  “We pulled up in front of a cabin in Green Bank. Jenna was going to wait outside while I went in. But my phone rang before I made it to the door. It was him, telling me he had changed his mind, and he wanted to cancel. I told him there would be a cancellation fee, but he just told me to fuck off.” She shook her head and took a sip of her drink. “Now if I had a pimp, they would have gone in and got the money. But nothing I could do about it.”

  “Okay, so she brought you back home. Did she mention where she was going to go next?”

  “Well that’s the thing, she was acting all strange when I got back into the car. She asked me if I had seen that client before. I hadn’t. I’d never been out there. Anyway, she dropped me off, thanked me for my time and said she might be in touch again and that was it.”

  “Which way did she drive off?”

  “Back the same way we came. Out of town. Up Highway 28.”

  “And you never heard from her after that?”

  “Nope.”

  Jack breathed in deeply and leaned back. He eyed the guy across the room. He kept casting an anxious glance over his shoulder towards the door. He was expecting someone — Aaron Gance, probably.

  “Look, I have to head up to Green Bank this morning. I’m not too familiar with the area. Would you come along with me?”

  “Um. I…”

  “I’ll pay you.”

  Her eyebrows shot up.

  “Strictly just to have you as a guide. You’re obviously familiar with the town and whatnot.”

  “How much?”

  “How much is a couple of hours of your time worth?”

  “Four hundred.”

  “I’ll give you six.”

  “Six? Done!” A smile formed on her lips as Jack got up and tossed down some money to pay for the food and drinks. The guy across the room looked panicked. He looked away from Jack for a second or two and then back outside. As Jack passed by him he made a comment.

  “Maybe next time.” He made a gun symbol with his thumb and finger, winked and they exited the diner. He wouldn’t have minded going another round with those idiots but he had a feeling the next time he encountered them they would be bearing more than fists.

  Chapter 15

  On the long stretch of road, Larson hit speeds up to eighty miles an hour, and by the time he turned off to the garage where the Gance brothers operated, his pulse was pounding. He was gripping the wheel so tight that his fingers had become rigid. Frustration surged through him. The department’s concern for Aaron wasn’t anything more than a need to keep themselves out of the media. He knew they would have tossed him inside at the first chance they got but their hands were tied by red tape. He’d always imagined that cops were protected against civil lawsuits. However, that wasn’t the case. All over the country, officers had been called into court to account for the treatment of the public. Sometimes they got off though more often than not someone had filmed an interaction and shared it online. In the past most cases against an officer would be tossed out because there was no proof besides the word of the accuser. Now, with cameras on cell phones, it was a complete shit show.

  He eased off the gas and began to slow down. He was nearly there. Larson had been waiting for this since the day Aaron got out — another opportunity to pull him in for creating a disturbance.

  A few minutes later, Larson brought the cruiser to a stop in a graveled lot in front of the garage at the end of a dead-end road. It had always struck him as an odd place to run a business. It was off the bea
ten path, far from Main Street and less liable to get traffic from those who drove by, and yet with the history that the Gance brothers had, it seemed appropriate. They wanted to stay clear of prying eyes and the property backed onto dense woodland full of trails. If the flow of drugs circulating in the town was coming from them, he guessed they were using the surrounding forest as a place to stash them.

  He pushed out of the car. Standing close to the open door, he surveyed the area and watched for movement. Usually, the garage would have been open for business but there was a sign on the door that read: CLOSED. Larson ran a hand over his head. There was tension in his neck, and he needed to stay calm. Every time he tried to speak with him, he had come close to losing control.

  He squinted at the windows scanning for movement. As a precautionary measure, he unsnapped his holster. Aaron had never owned a firearm, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t carrying.

  Aaron Gance was a wild card.

  A cold, unpredictable man capable of anything.

  It was eerily quiet as he waited for Ethan to show. Besides, the trees rustling in the wind, there were no other sounds. No birds. No critters. Only the thump of his heart. The sky was a dark gray, a far cry from the early morning, which was warm and sunny. Perhaps Beth Robertson was right. A storm was brewing. Larson cast a glance at his watch. C’mon, Ethan. He looked back up the road but there was no sign of him. He had a good mind to get back on the radio but he didn’t want to become distracted. The last time he’d taken in Aaron, it hadn’t come without a fight. He wasn’t the kind of man that would return to jail twice. His eye caught movement, a drape in the window of the RV. The door cracked open, just a little, then fully and Merle was standing there wearing a dirty white muscle shirt, and garage overalls tied off around his waist. He had a few smears of oil on his forehead and a pair of specs resting low on his nose.

  “Can I help you, officer?” The words came out slurred and gruff as if damaged by one too many cigarettes.

  Larson noticed his nose was busted up. He had a strip of tape across it and some bruising under both eyes. He watched as he picked up a quarter filled bottle of Jack Daniel’s off the counter and took a swig. Great, he was drunk.

  “Need to speak to you and your brother about last night. The fight that broke out over at Ali’s Bar.”

  “Don’t know about any fight. We were here last night.”

  Larson scanned the tree line. If someone had a rifle on him, it would have been virtually impossible to know it. It was dense and seemed even darker from the brooding clouds that hovered overhead. The distant sound of thunder bellowed and Merle looked skyward.

  “You and I both know you were there. There are multiple witnesses that place you at the scene and responsible for starting the fight.”

  “Sorry, deputy, they must have their wires crossed as we were here last night, playing cards and drinking with family. Listen, come back later, Aaron is not around. He’ll be able to clear this up.”

  Merle hung one hand on top of the door and the other was hidden behind his back. Larson kept his hand on his gun, slowly easing it out of the holster but keeping it below the door. If shots broke out, he at least would be ready. He gave a nervous glance around him. Though he was wearing a bulletproof vest, he didn’t like being out in the open. There were too many ways someone could creep up on him.

  “Merle, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

  “You going to charge me for a fist fight?”

  “You know how these things play out.”

  “I know that you keep harassing us. My brother has already filed a complaint against you. You want another?”

  He made a gesture with two fingers for him to step out. “Step out and while you’re at it, tell Aaron to get his ass out here.”

  “I told you…”

  “I know he’s in there.”

  He noticed Merle’s head turn ever so slightly as if he was trying to communicate with someone. He staggered a little and then steadied himself against the side of the doorway.

  “I want to know what we are being charged with?”

  “Disturbing the peace, destruction of property, a breach of a restraining order and a threat made to Bonnie Ratlin.”

  He chuckled. “Shit! You have got to be joking. You know that isn’t going to hold up in court. We’ll be out on bail before the end of the day, and you are going to have another harassment complaint on your plate. You want that, deputy? Could tarnish that shiny new career of yours.”

  He was pissing him off. “Step out.”

  Merle scoffed and slammed the door shut. Right at that point, Larson knew he was fucked. It had taken a squad of six officers to bring in Merle many years ago. His reputation preceded him. Instead of moving in on him, which would have been a foolish move being as he didn’t know if both of them were inside and armed, he got on the radio.

  “Ethan, you there?”

  “I’m two minutes away.”

  “You better move it. This is about to go south.”

  “Shit, Larson, I told you not to engage.”

  “I didn’t. Merle did.”

  His eyes shot back to the RV at the sound of the door opening again. Strangely enough, he had a jacket on. Merle grabbed up some keys and stepped out as if he was ready to go quietly. He stumbled down three steps.

  Larson’s brow furrowed. “Where’s Aaron?”

  “I told you, he’s not here. He got a phone call from a friend of his and shot off to meet him.”

  “Why’s the garage not open?”

  “Things have been slow.”

  “That’s not what I’ve heard,” Larson replied. “I hear you are still up to your old tricks.”

  “Yeah, well, people have big mouths in this town. Proof. That’s what people need around here. Nothing but rumors floating around,” he said as he made his way over.

  “Keep your hands where I can see them.”

  He raised them up and got this big grin on his face. “Really, you that nervous?”

  As they were speaking, Ethan’s cruiser came rolling up. Larson slipped his gun back into his holster. Ethan hopped out expecting there to be some standoff. His eyes darted between the two of them.

  “I ain’t done nothin’!”

  “Then you don’t have anything to worry about, do you?”

  “Ethan, you going to let him do this?” Merle said. “I’ve always treated you and your family good.”

  “It’s just procedure, Merle.”

  “Procedure my ass. I’d like to see the warrant.”

  “Don’t need one.”

  “I have rights, you know. You can’t just breeze in here and tell a man you’re going to arrest him without proof. Where are these witnesses? Huh? Where’s the victim of this crime? I’ll tell you where the victim of the crime is. It’s us. This is bullshit.”

  Larson gave him a command to stand by the vehicle so he could search him. Merle staggered from side to side, failing to walk in a straight line.

  Larson scoffed. “Bullshit? Like the time you said you didn’t steal that car?”

  “You know as well as I do that people bring all manner of vehicles this way to be repaired. That wasn’t my vehicle. I was just fixing it up.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t your vehicle, all right. Giving it a spray job and changing the number plates. Yeah, right. You were just fixing it up. Now listen to what he’s telling you and get over there,” Ethan said.

  “Anyway, that was in the past. I’ve done my time.”

  Larson latched onto him and kicked at his heels to get him to spread his legs before doing a routine check to make sure he wasn’t carrying. He winced, smelling the booze on his breath as he exhaled hard.

  “You got anything in your pockets that’s going to stick me?”

  “I’m clean.”

  “Who did Aaron go see?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe your wife,” he said before laughing.

  Rage overtook him and Larson slammed his head hard agai
nst the front of his car and pulled his gun, pressing it against the side of his temple.

  “Larson. Enough. Put it away,” Ethan said coming up behind him.

  “You think that’s funny. I know he’s behind the destruction of my cruiser. I know he’s the one that nearly ran over my wife. When I find him—”

  “Larson!” Ethan yelled harder. In that moment he snapped out of it. His heart was pounding in his chest. It took everything not to pull that trigger. Unlike many of the larger cities in the area, their town hadn’t incorporated video cameras onto the dashboards of all their cruisers. If they had, he would have had a lot of explaining to do. Larson slipped the gun back into his holster and began to read Merle his Miranda rights.

  “You’re arresting me? What have I done?”

  “You know damn well what you’ve done.”

  Larson strong-armed him into the back of the cruiser and slammed the door shut before walking away to blow off some steam. He could hear Merle protesting in the back. His yells were muffled. A few times he kicked at the window with his feet but Ethan got him to calm down.

  Larson knew Ethan was going to come down on him over it but he didn’t care. The Gance brothers just kept pushing.

  “What the hell was that?” Ethan asked crossing over to where he was standing by the edge of the woods.

  “You know he did it.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Larson. Do you want to lose your badge? This is about the fight not the cruiser, and definitely not your wife.”

  “Let’s just take him in.” Larson was done listening to him harp on. He didn’t understand. How could he? He would soon be retiring. All he wanted to do was stay out of harm’s way for the remainder of his career. He wasn’t the one that was going to have to put up with them in the coming years, sifting through paperwork, red tape, and legal bullshit.

  He hopped back into the cruiser, ignoring Merle’s obscenities and spitting at the hard vehicle partition between the front and rear seats. Larson cast a glance at Ethan before pulling the cruiser around and heading toward the department.