by Kieran York
“Unless you plan to commit a crime, your secret is safe with me.” His eyebrows squeezed together so closely that it looked like one long parade of caterpillars. “So, what’s up?”
“We’ve found the identity of Pixy.” Summer quickly added, “But you can’t breathe a word to a soul. We want everything as quiet as possible.”
“You have my word.” He was perplexed. “I said it wasn’t going beyond me.”
“Her name is Lacey Wyatt.” There was no need to give a complete rundown on her resume.
His eyes snapped open. “Lacey Wyatt, the little gymnast a decade or more ago? Olympics? Silver medal?”
“She was injured from a fall,” I explained. “Head and face injuries. After the accident, she went from an exalted athlete to an unknown street busker.”
Summer quizzed, “Tom, you watch women’s Olympic events?”
With a bashful, quick glance out of the window, Tom admitted, “My wife does. She won’t miss summer or winter. If I want to have happy marriage, I watch with her. Otherwise I don’t know what she’s talking about when she tells me about the winners and losers. She gets herself emotional over them all.” He paused, trying to take it in. “I won’t say a word about this.”
“Thanks. You know how I said that I thought the Ryder and Javier were stealing her takings at the end of the day?” I asked.
“The bums,” Tom replied. “Yeah, I remember you telling me that. One of the reasons I want the judicial skies to open up and rain all over both of them.”
“It gets worse. I have it on good authority that someone had stolen her silver medal. When this comes down, and you’re searching items at the Hodges home, please keep your eyes out for her medal.”
His fists clenched. “Those jerks.” His eyes watered. “I want Hodges so bad. I want everyone culpable – I want them. And if that goes all the way up to John directly – I’ll arrest him. If he assisted his son, he’s going to be going down on a conspiracy to murder charge. He’s one of the most prominent men in the Florida, but he isn’t the most popular. And he’ll pay if he’s in collusion.”
Summer schemed, “I’ll be devising some plans for meeting up with Ryder, after we get the report. And the go-ahead for Ryder being apprehended.”
I deliberated, then said. “We’ll try to coax him to a place we feel comfortable. We’ll tell you about our meeting place.”
“Before you two leave, we’ll get you some wires. Rachel will know how to get them on you. Then keep us informed.”
Summer rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we’ll need help with your antiquated wires. I’ve got audio and video cameras that can be mistaken for little chunks of nothing,” she bragged about our surveillance props.
“I need you safe,” he repeated. “We’ll be hearing every word in real time.”
“Tom, we’re going in, and we already know that he’s dangerous. You do have your Swat Team on speed dial, don’t you?” Summer asked.
“Get outta here!” Tom barked. “And wait for proof positive.”
He was as concerned as we were. Well, probably almost as concerned.
On our return trip through the parking lot to Hanna’s car, Summer asked, “When we hatch this plot, do you think Ryder will have his pal with him?”
“He murdered Pixy by himself. He was also alone when he placed the bomb in Evan’s rental car. I’m not sure how much Javier knows. But Ryder might enlist his help when he attempts to silence us and buy the lacrosse stick.”
By the time we pulled up to the marina, I noticed even though it was just getting dusky out, Rachel had the lights all on. From the upper flybridge of our yacht, the lighting looked like search lights across the parking lot. Lighting bathed the entire ship. We would put the alarm systems on, and probably hear sirens a few times during the night. Seagulls had an uncanny desire to fly exclusively when our alarms were set and poised to save our lives.
Our pistols would be resting on our bed tables. We had what Ryder wanted. Or rather, he thought we had what he wanted.
I was getting ready for bed when my phone rang. It was Officer Jill Timoteo. “Hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Not at all. What’s happening?”
“I’ve been doing some checking on Andrew Carleton. He’s no longer a cop.”
I sat up with a start. “Not a cop?”
“No, he was kicked off the force weeks ago. It’s probably where I heard the name. Three or four officers were relieved of their duty. They’d been beating people of color. Mostly African Americans. Roughing them up. In one case, someone had a phone and it was photographed.”
“Jill, is he still in Miami?”
“No, I think he’s back here. From what I hear, he’s with some white supremacy group.”
“Racists. They were cops?”
The phone was silent. I could hear the anger in Jill’s voice, “There are bigoted cops. But I feel the same way. Jill affirmed, “If they were good cops, they wouldn’t be beating innocent men because of the color of their skin.” Her words were like hammers hitting steel.
“Jill, I don’t really have a source in Miami. There’s something I need to know. A rifle, a long gun was stolen in Miami.” I quickly looked through my small notebook. I gave her the serial numbers. “If you could have one of your friends check and see if Andrew Carleton was possibly in the vicinity of where that burglary went down. Maybe it was on his shift reports. He might have been implicated. Anything you can get for me.”
“I’ll check.”
“I owe you one, Jill.”
“Okay. Promise if you get this guy, you’ll let me put the cuffs on him.”
I grinned, “You got it. I’ll keep you in the loop. I’m betting he’ll be going down for murder. That much I can tell you. In his parent’s back yard, I recently happened upon a huge trash trailer. There were Nazi and KKK books inside. Sounds like a pattern.”
“Beryl, I’ll be checking to see what I can find.”
“Thank you, Jill.”
“Thank you.”
I hung up, and cuddle back down on my bed. I would be awaiting Jill’s next call. I would have a busy morning, and wanted – required – a night’s sleep.
Tossing onto my side, I cursed. My anger was making me tense. We had solved the mystery of who Pixy had been. We already knew who she was. We were feeling certain about our prime suspect being Ryder Hodges. But certainty wouldn’t happen until the DNA on the lacrosse stick matched Pixy’s blood. And it was a weapon with Ryder’s fingerprints. Until we had a confession, we had questions. Who else was implicated? Javier Ramon. And perhaps also implicated was John Hodges. Meanwhile, John could at any time, and effortlessly, have his son sneak out of the country. Secreted away.
We depended on the same thing that provided our finding the lacrosse stick still in Ryder’s trunk. Ego. John Hodges probably knew his son was in trouble. But his power excluded any thought that his son was fallible. This confidence could be his ultimate downfall, I considered.
Taking John, or Ryder, down would require a very huge prosecutorial adversary. Not at all easy. The case wasn’t closed. It was still in the hunch phase.
I was feeling more optimistic regarding the Perrault case. It could have been Andrew Carleton. He was a dirty cop. We now knew that his shield was mucky and loathsome. There was nothing so begrimed as a bent shield. The stolen gun was a direct link to the crime.
My computer was on my bed stand. I looked through the testimony in the trial of Carleton vs Perrault Cosmetics. I read Olga’s testimony. Just as I as getting into Rex’s testimony – I saw one of his statements. He’d had “a hell ova good job. Them some” - there was a pause for him to correct what he was going to say. “There was a black come in and took my job offa me.”
This comment, the books in the trailer, and the fact that Andrew beat African Americans, made me more certain. There was no doubt in my mind that Andrew Carleton killed Wendell Perrault. He was a sharp shooter. He was an enforcer. He knew guns. He knew how to sanitize a crime
scene. I was convinced. I was also convinced that both Olga and Rex were aware of what had transpired when Andrew was caught beating an unarmed, innocent African American man. And Rex might have been the driver of the getaway boat in the killing of Perrault. It was well-known that Perrault Cosmetics backed equality.
The hearts of some human beings are rancid.
I tried to remember the joy that blossomed from Pixy’s heart.
Chapter 16
Preparation. The Team went through every possible scenario that might present itself. While awaiting results from Forensics, we attempted to predict what the cruel mind might be planning for us. We knew that there would be a meeting with Ryder Hodges. To ascertain a confession, and conviction, it all had to fall in place. The opponent was too rich, too influential, too powerful, and way too malevolent.
During our one encounter, Ryder Hodges looked at me as if I was a middle-aged weakling. A woman rusting away. Summer and I had spent time working on that image in the course of the couple days. We play-acted out dozens of different problematic situations we might encounter. He was a football player. With size and strength, he had the advantage. But practicing with Summer must have knocked some of the rust off, and I was feeling agile. Anger also seemed to have a youth-enhancing quality.
Rachel had been answering our calls. When I saw my phone light up, I realized it must be Ryder. “You’ve got something that belongs to me,” his menacing voice hissed.
“What might that be?” I asked.
“You know what. I want it back.”
“Perhaps we could come to a deal. I need to talk with my partners,” I stalled.
“You stupid bitches have something that belongs to me, and you’d better return it.”
“Your father has tons of money. I don’t,” I continued to flirt a deal. “For you, the noose might be tightening. You’ve bought your way out of other fixes you’ve been in. I could use an infusion of capital. Talk with your father about forking over a few million. His son stays a free man.”
“You’re blackmailing me. I don’t like that.” His jeered, “You’d better lower your expectation. You don’t have long to go on a shopping spree.” His chuckle was dense. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’ll see what I can do about getting a hundred thou. I want my property returned.”
“Come on, Ryder, you can do better than that. We’re talking about capital murder. I’m warning you, if you don’t shell out some big money, you’ll have every cop in the state after you.” I talked as sternly, and curtly, as I could. “Play it my way, and it will only cost your old man a little of his precious money. The cops won’t have a murder weapon that will send you to prison. Or worse. So, don’t play with me,” I advised.
“My father won’t let anything happen to me. All for some disabled girl that got herself killed. She didn’t know what the fuck was going on. She was just some disposable chick doing cartwheels for pennies.”
My fists were wound with anger. “She was a woman. Beloved by many people. Listen to this, Ryder. Listen carefully. Don’t make the mistake of thinking your lacrosse stick won’t sway the jury. With Pixy’s blood splatter and your fingerprints! Think again, pal.”
“She was an imbecile!” his voice echoed.
Pretending not to have heard, I spat the words, “Ryder, we get our money. Or we take the evidence directly to the police. I’m tired of messing with you.”
“I might have trouble getting the cash.”
“You damn well better get the money. You know you can always get money. You buy off rape cases, all your crimes disappear. Get the money to save your rotten ass from prison.”
“Talk it over with the other bitches. And don’t plan on bringing the tough bitch when we meet. I’ll be back in touch.” He discontinued the call. Summer was not invited. We had planned on that being the case.
I contacted Tom Powers immediately. On speakerphone, I told the chief about the contact. All recorded. I had kept Ryder interested in a deal. During the previous phone conversation, there were my accusations, but there was no incrimination on his part. At least, there wasn’t any that couldn’t be explained away by a good defense attorney.
I spoke pensively. “I just hope he wasn’t phoning from the airport.”
Tom huffed, “Don’t worry. We’ve got security watching all Florida’s airports. Ryder hasn’t used his passport. His father’s corporate plane hasn’t left the airfield. And by the way, we got a couple officers watching the marina.” Tom became gruff, “I know you women can take care of yourself, but you need backup on this one. You are a target.”
“Thanks, Tom. We’ll be in touch.”
Waiting games never appealed to me. We awaited lab reports. Everything was on hold. We waiting for a punk to squeeze money out of his father. There was an ex-cop somewhere, perhaps hiding out because he’d killed a man. And he had shot my partner. I probably gobbled two bags of lemon drops as a remedy for waiting.
I felt to be up in the air. That nervous energy put a case of jitters inside my skin. These mysteries were a bundle of hints, and they flopped in so many directions.
I’d checked my pistol repeatedly. I’d slipped an additional sidearm in my leg holster. Opening the little pouch that was attached to the holster, I pulled out the three shells that I’d purchased from Pixy. These were the ones I had believed to be lost. I’d stored them for safekeeping.
I quickly dispensed them to both Summer and Rachel. I told my partners the story of the shells. They were moved to have a small remembrance of Pixy. I filled the leg holster with half a dozen rounds, just in case. And I left the third shell where I’d found it. As a good luck charm.
Going into battle, every woman needs a shell.
By noon, we’d had eaten lunch, and were becoming restless. A call from Jill confirmed that not only was Andrew Carleton in the area where the rifle that had killed Wendell Perrault was stolen, Andrew was one of the officers dispatched to the home where the burglary happened. The officers had found and arrested the car full of teens that had stolen the guns. Andrew and another officer confiscated the guns that were reported missing. Three were written on the report. Two were turned in. The third had been crossed out. The owner provided information on the third gun. Still missing until Palm Beach found that exact gun at the murder scene.
Bingo! I tried to entice Summer to go with me to the Carleton home. Check it out, a little surveillance. Carefully, since Andrew had been an enforcer, and would make us both immediately.
Although the former cop probably hadn’t realized he was being looked at for the crime, he was probably aware he could be under investigation.
I announced my plan to at least find out if he was staying with his parents. Summer fidgeted, then stated that she wanted to go check out some of the places owned by the Carleton empire. She’d selected a list of addresses of abandoned property owned by John Hodges. One of them could very well be a place Ryder would select as a meeting place to trade off the money and lacrosse stick. If there was activity, it would be excellent to know the lay of the land.
I warned her to be careful. She warned me to be careful. Rachel warned us both to be careful. This was a recognizance afternoon, I thought. I didn’t believe the chances were good that I’d locate Andrew Carleton. I was pretty certain that Summer wouldn’t come across Ryder. John Hodges probably had him stashed somewhere safe.
Before dropping by the Carleton’s household, I stopped in to see how Lefty was doing. He wasn’t home, so I went aboard The Ghost. Someone else had gone aboard without permission. The place was turned. In anger, obviously for not having found what they wanted, they’d thrown the TV in a corner, smashing it to smithereens.
It could also be a warning to me. Ryder was telling me that what happened to the old ship’s interior could easily happen to me. I could be ransacked, kicked, punched, tossed at the wall, and left for dead. Ryder might have been looking for anything Pixy might have left behind as a hint about the person or persons that bullied her. Or an admoniti
on not to double-cross a rich star athlete. Coin toss.
When I came out on the deck, I saw Lefty driving his truck toward the parking area.
“I just went over to the petrol station. Called about what happened to Pixy’s rig getttin’ trespassed and wrecked.”
“Tore the hell out of it,” I said as I walked the plank. “Did you hear anything?”
“I got an early start fishing this morning. When I got back, I saw the door was ajar. Went as far as the door, then come out and called. I got me a little phone, but I forget to charge it up. So, I drove over to called from the station. The cops’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“Glad you weren’t hurt.”
He laughed, “Me too. What the blazes does anybody want with all the junk in there.”
“Maybe they wanted to find something incriminating. Or just to be cruel.”
Back in my car, I called Rachel to tell her someone had turned Pixy’s place. Telling her about the trespass onto Pixy’s boat, and the destruction of her property made me feel a sickness in my stomach. “They can’t even stop assaulting and bashing her after she’s dead.”
Rachel reported, “Summer just called. She said she only had a couple more places to check out. If you don’t need her, she’ll come back to the yacht.”
“Naw, I’m fine. I’m just heading over to the Carleton place. Nothing more I can do here. The TV was smashed in the corner.”
“Could you tell if it was more than one?”
“Not really. Ryder is large, and an athlete, he could have pitched the TV across the inlet.
Rachel accused, “I can tell from your voice that you’re so angry, you could have pitched the boat and all across the inlet.”
Snickering, I said, “Rach, it’s so good to have your sense of humor back again. You can tell Summer, I’m just going to drive by the Carleton homestead.”
“You could always stop in, they might be having a KKK meeting.”
“Another reason, I’m going to pass right by. I just want to see if there might be evidence indicating Andrew is hanging out there.”