Walking Money

by James O. Born

  TWENTY THREE

  BILL Tasker dozed for a few minutes while Mac Nmir ran into the FBI office to see if Dooley had been at work the past few days. Mac had parked a block away in the Howard Johnson’s parking lot to be certain no one saw Tasker in the Bureau car. Tasker knew the FBI man’s heart was in the right place, but his brain hadn’t completely committed to the plan they had laid out. It was as if a voice in his head kept telling him another FBI agent like Dooley could not have done something like this.

  Tasker let his exhaustion sweep over him as he waited for Mac’s return. He figured Mac would recruit the necessary help to cover the deal they had set up for that night and all the preliminary things that needed to be done first. Mainly, finding Tom Dooley.

  As he slipped into a comfortable rest with his head propped against the closed window, his mind kept working toward Tina Wiggins. There had to be a logical explanation for her involvement in this bizarre turn of events. Maybe Derrick Sutter had confused things and Tina had been helping to clear his name. Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. God knows that’s how he had gotten tangled up in the whole mess. A misunderstanding and Dooley’s attention to detail in framing him.

  Tasker snapped back to consciousness when Mac opened the door and slipped inside. Checking all around, more like countersurveillance than checking for traffic, Mac threw the car into reverse and backed out. They were westbound on the 826 before he spoke.

  Mac said, “No one’s seen him in a couple of days.”

  Tasker nodded.

  Mac held up a piece of paper. “But I got his home address.”

  Tasker said, “Great. Who’s helping us?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, did you get some more agents to cover the deal tonight?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? We don’t know who might show up besides Tina. We’ve gotta make sure Sutter is protected while he’s undercover.”

  “I think we can handle Tina Wiggins.”

  “Number one, I doubt we could, and number two, if someone thinks Sutter has that cash they might be after it, too.”

  “I can’t ask for help yet.”

  Tasker just looked at him hard.

  “I still don’t have enough to ruin a guy’s whole career. If he’s dirty, we’ll get him. If he’s not, we can save a lot of heartache.”

  “You mean like all the heartache you saved me?”

  “Please allow that I made a mistake and would prefer not to make it again.”

  That shut Tasker up. Maybe the guy was straight up.

  AFTER failing to find Dooley at any of his expected hangouts, the uneasy partners headed toward downtown Miami and then on to the Aventura Mall and Sutter. Tasker felt as if Mac had been hinting about a subject for the past twenty minutes, but couldn’t figure out what it could be. Then he spoke up.

  Mac asked, “What did you mean by needing more agents to cover Sutter?”

  Tasker looked at him, not sure what he meant. “You know, in case of trouble. To make sure he doesn’t get hurt.”

  “He can look after himself.”

  “Maybe he can, but a UC should never be alone.”

  Mac remained silent.

  Tasker asked, “Haven’t you ever been undercover?” Mac shook his head.

  “But you’ve covered a deal like this before, right?”

  “No, mostly I’ve done financial and robbery stuff.”

  “How long you been on the job?”

  “Four years.”

  “And you’ve never done any kind of undercover work? What about surveillance?”

  “Not much.”

  Suddenly Tasker wasn’t as proud of losing his FBI surveillance the night before.

  Tasker said, “We need to keep an eye on Sutter while he meets Tina. She might be the one who wants the cash, but she might not. It could be Dooley showing up. We don’t know, so we have to prepare like it is and help Sutter if he gets in any kind of trouble.”

  Mac nodded. “You got a gun?”

  Tasker pulled the SIG Sauer from his waistband.

  “Where’d you get that?”

  “That’s in my lesson on search warrants.” He smiled and caught sight of Derrick Sutter waiting in his car near the back of the mall parking lot.

  TINA Wiggins sat on the edge of her couch, consoling her sister.

  Tina said, “It’s a business meeting, not a social.”

  Jeanie blew her nose into a paper towel and looked up from streaked mascara. “He said he’d never met anyone like me and I believed him.”

  “I know you want to see him, but we need the money and I can’t look after you while I’m dealing with him.”

  “Will you ask him if I’ll ever see him again?”

  “C’mon, Jeanie, he used you. He burglarized our house. You don’t want to ever see him again.”

  She burst out in a sob again. “No, I do, really. Just once to clear the air.”

  “Let’s clear our finances first, then we’ll worry about our love lives.”

  Jeanie straightened up. “Didn’t you use Billy? I mean, he gave you the information to get the cash.”

  “That’s different,” Tina said, turning away.

  “How?”

  “I liked Bill before the money. I just took an opportunity.”

  “You really think someone couldn’t like me for me? You think they all flock to you but are only interested in me if they can get something?”

  Tina had heard this argument before somewhere. She didn’t have time to get into it now.

  “I’ll see you around nine, sis.”

  Tina quick-stepped out the front door as another wave of sobs swept over her sister.

  TOM Dooley was much more careful following Tina Wiggins this time. He watched her pull out of her complex and head east toward the water. He hung way back, looking through his third windshield in four days. He had plans for this bitch tonight and he didn’t care how he got the money back. The days of being Mr. Nice Guy were over. If the loopy broad shot at him again, he’d shove the pistol so far up her ass her kids would spit lead.

  He kept well back as she turned onto U.S. 1 and headed south toward Aventura. Dooley’s heartbeat rose and he instinctively put a hand on his Smith & Wesson model 13 on his hip. He had his little backup on his ankle and was prepared to trade fire tonight if it came to that. There was a lot he was prepared to do now that he wouldn’t have done a few days ago, because now the stakes were too high. And after this, at some point he had Cole Hodges to deal with and he knew that wouldn’t be pretty either.

  COLE Hodges eased the gold Acura he’d stolen from in front of the Federal Courthouse into the street. The car obviously belonged to some kind of U.S. marshal employee because of the paraphernalia in the car and the small SIG Sauer P-230 pistol in the glove compartment. Hodges took the gun and the extra magazine of seven .380 bullets and slipped them into his pocket. Looking through the painfully dirty windshield, he could see Tom Dooley’s beat-up Buick Century head down Ives Dairy Road toward U.S. 1. Hodges didn’t know where the FBI man was headed or whom he’d been watching for the past three hours, but he knew he’d given the fat man more than enough time to get things together and turn it all over to him even if it was a day before their scheduled meeting at Pro Player Stadium. Hodges had plenty of firepower to make his point, and if it didn’t work out he intended to hightail it over to South Miami and detain Dooley’s son, Andy. Seemed like a nice young man and wouldn’t put up much of a fight. It was almost too bad the Reverend Watson wasn’t around. He would’ve liked the boy, and that would’ve been one more thing to encourage Dooley to deliver the cash.

  He turned south on U.S. 1 with Dooley. The FBI agent obviously didn’t recognize the Acura and couldn’t see who was driving.

  “This will be sweet,” Hodges said with a smile as he stayed with Dooley and they passed into Aventura.

  TWENTY FOUR

  THE Aventura Mall spread out like many South Florida shopping centers acros
s a wide and deep lot east of U.S. 1. The modern mall had the usual big anchor stores, Bloomingdale’s on one end and JCPenney on the opposite side. In between were the normal clothing, gift and electronic stores associated with an upscale, yuppie neighborhood. Aside from the food court, a T.G.I. Friday’s, Johnny Rockets and a new Cheesecake Factory provided places to feed the hungry shoppers, who were more locals and American tourists than in the other malls in Dade County.

  Tasker had never spent any time at the mall, so he and Mac had been circling the sprawling structure for the past ten minutes, getting an idea of the layout and making sure Tina Wiggins hadn’t slipped in early. Tasker still had a hard time believing he was part of the surveillance of a girl for whom he had strong feelings. He couldn’t call it love, but it had been way more than friendship. He hoped there was another explanation and that she was just trying to help him, but deep inside he knew that was unlikely.

  They drove back and met Sutter at his car almost an hour before Tina was supposed to show up. In normal circumstances, Tasker wouldn’t meet at the same place as a suspect, but normally he wouldn’t be trying to make a case on his girlfriend or be facing an indictment if it didn’t work out. He’d accepted that the normal rules of police investigation had been suspended since sometime the night before.

  Inside the T.G.I. Friday’s they grabbed a table near the main window. Tasker took a minute to catch his breath.

  Across from him, Derrick Sutter shook his head for the fourth time, explaining to Mac and Tasker how he wasn’t mixed up, confused or lying.

  Sutter said, “The bitch used her sister to distract fat boy and she took the cash.”

  Tasker said, “And she told you this?”

  “No, I said that Dooley explained it. He thought I had it then, and when I saw Jeanie I knew the score. Dooley just confirmed it.”

  Mac pulled a black microcassette recorder slightly bigger than a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket and slid it across the table toward Sutter.

  Sutter picked it up in his bony hand and said, “What’s this, J. Edgar?”

  “Recorder.”

  “No shit. What do you want me to do with it?”

  Mac cut loose for the first time since Tasker had known him. “Stick it up your ass so I know how you’re feeling during the deal.” He paused without smiling. “You’ve got to record the whole conversation.”

  Sutter rolled his eyes. “You dumbshit, she’s a cop. That’s the first thing she’ll check.”

  “Maybe in your pocket?” suggested Mac.

  This time Tasker shook his head, reluctant to enter a conversation about gathering evidence on Tina. “We won’t hear shit if it’s in his pocket. And if we tape it to his chest, she’ll find it.”

  Mac asked, “What do you suggest?”

  Tasker took the recorder from Sutter and held it up to the paper napkin dispenser on the table. Then he took out a handful of napkins and stuck the recorder inside, pushing the record button as he did it. He replaced the napkins and said, “That should work. One, two, three, that should work.” He retrieved the recorder and started to play back his test, then realized it had no internal speaker to save on size. He looked at Mac. “You have the speaker?”

  Mac shrugged. “At the office.”

  Tasker’s face flushed. “How’d you manage to make a case on me?”

  That brought laughter from Sutter, but a glare from Mac’s dark face.

  Tasker said, “We’ll have to trust it works,” and handed the recorder back to Sutter. Then he said, “I want this recorded because I hope you’ve screwed up what she said or what Dooley meant. You’ll see she’s okay.”

  Sutter nodded. “I believe she’s okay. I just think she stole the cash. Too bad it’s a crime, that’s all.”

  Tasker said, “We’ll see.”

  Mac stood up and looked down at Sutter. “Make sure you hold this table when you go to wait for her and don’t forget to turn that thing on.”

  Sutter nodded. “Where will you guys be?”

  Mac said, “I’ll stay on foot close by. Bill will be in the lot in the car. If you get into trouble, we’ll be right there.”

  Sutter smiled. “The day I can’t get out of trouble and the FBI needs to save me is the day I quit police work.”

  DERRICK Sutter sat alone at the restaurant table, staring at the small recorder in his hand. He’d tried to get out of recording his meeting with Tina Wiggins. That would’ve been the easiest thing to do. Then when he testified, as he knew someday he would, he wouldn’t implicate himself, could clear Tasker and make his statements vague enough so that Tina and her stupid sister wouldn’t face prison either. That way everyone would come out ahead. He could make up some lame story about the recorder malfunctioning, but even the FBI was getting wise to that scam.

  Sutter checked his fake Rolex Aviator and saw it was seven on the nose. He’d told Tina he’d be standing outside the Friday’s now. He couldn’t see the street in front of the restaurant, so he decided to go outside and wait. He looked once more at the small recorder, then, sighing, mashed the tiny red record button. He could see the spindles turn slowly. He took out about ten napkins and placed the recorder inside, then replaced the napkins. It looked natural; he just had to remember to sit on this side and not use extra napkins.

  As the young waitress walked past the table, he caught her attention. She’d seemed a little annoyed every time Mac had told her to come back when they were talking and she wanted to take their order. Now it was up to Sutter to convince her to hold the table while he stepped outside. Luckily, God had given him the gift of charm and he knew how to use it. He smiled, then looked up at the buxom waitress.

  “Excuse me.” He touched her name tag like he needed to see it. “Shelly. But would it be possible to hold this table for a few minutes while I catch the attention of someone outside?”

  She looked around at the crowded room, then back at Sutter without saying a word.

  “Shelly, that’s a pretty name. What’s your last name?”

  “Lipstein,” she said without emotion. “How pretty is that?”

  “It goes with you. Now how about it, Shell? Can I keep the table?”

  “Let me make sure I understand this great offer. You and your cheap friends take up this table for forty-five minutes without ordering a thing. Then the other two split. Now you want to tie it up longer while you look for someone. Is that the plan, slick?”

  Sutter pulled a fifty from his imitation alligator money clip and said, “Yeah and you get this on top of everything else.”

  Shelly Lipstein smiled and said, “No problem.”

  AFTER only a moment of settling into the Ford Taurus, Tasker saw Derrick Sutter come out onto the sidewalk and wait by the street. A big part of Tasker didn’t want Tina to show up. Even though she’d dumped him and, in all likelihood, used his information to steal the cash, Tasker didn’t want to think about the consequences for her. He sighed and continued watching Sutter.

  After ten minutes, he saw her pull up in her state-issued Monte Carlo. If he ever had to testify, he couldn’t be more clear. He saw her behind the wheel, wearing a blue top and her hair pulled back into a dark ponytail. She didn’t smile as she stopped in front of Sutter. They exchanged some words and she peeled the tires as she cut into the parking lot. Tasker could see her two rows away after she got out and marched toward Sutter, who was still outside the restaurant. Tasker’s heart sank a little when he saw her give his partner a long, friendly hug, then a decent kiss.

  TINA ran her arms over Derrick Sutter’s tight ribs and back. This man is built, she thought. She ended the hug by running her hands across his waist, then she leaned forward, kissed him and discreetly put her left hand on his crotch, even rubbing his penis for a second.

  Sutter pushed her away. “Damn, girl, Jeanie been tellin’ you stories?”

  “Funny. Now let me see that phone.”

  Sutter eyed her silently.

  “You want to talk, I need to see that ce
ll phone.”

  Sutter shrugged and unclipped his small Nextel I-90 cellular phone and handed it to her, waiting quietly as she flipped it around in her hand, then took out the battery, slipping it into her pocket.

  Tina said, “I can never tell if they fit a recorder in these or not. If this works out, you’ll get your battery back.” She paused, then added, “Even though I know you can afford a new one.”

  He nodded.

  She handed him the dead cell phone and said, “You’re not in such demand that you can’t be out of touch for a few minutes.”

  Sutter smiled and said, “You’d be surprised.”

  She eyed him up and down and realized she wouldn’t be surprised by anything this guy could come up with.

  TOM Dooley swung his car into a spot near the T.G.I. Friday’s where he’d dropped his first hint to the Channel Eleven reporter about the Tasker investigation. He’d been stunned when Tina Wiggins met Derrick Sutter out front with a big hug and kiss. Not stunned that they met, only stunned that he’d believed that no-good son-of-a-bitch dick-sucking whore asshole Sutter when he’d told him Tina had stolen his cash. He should’ve known that slick cop had been involved. Mother-fucking shit-packing jerk-off. This really pissed him off. He sat in the car, staring through the new windshield at the entrance the two had just walked through. He could go in and make a scene but, as he considered consequences and actions and remembering how quick on the trigger the broad was, he decided to wait till they came out and then maybe reason with them. Maybe, between the three of them they could neutralize damn Cole Hodges, who Dooley knew would turn up sooner or later.

  COLE Hodges didn’t figure it out until Dooley parked and stayed in the car; then he knew the FBI man was following someone. He didn’t see who it was but he guessed it was whoever lived in the apartment Dooley had watched all afternoon and that it had to do with the CCR’s money. Hodges had had all he could stand of being treated like some kind of street thug. Smacked around by that cocky Cuban roadkill and having his cash taken twice by that ton-of-lard federal agent. It was time to clean this shit up and quick.