“Agreed. No BK’s, and only three grammar Nazis.” Nick toasted Gus with his last Irish coffee. “I bet John was bored out of his mind. What time did he check out of the network?”
“Before noon. He was meeting with Dimah Kader for the first time today. The big chicken talked Dan into going with him so Dimah didn’t feel threatened. I bet he needed Dan along so someone other than Dimah spoke more than three words.”
“That’s harsh Payaso. The great Kabong was only being considerate. El Muerto will assist Kabong when Cala meets with him.” Nick put away the last of his papers. “Rachel called. They finished the tour and took a limo back to the Lodge so we don’t have to rush around. Here comes Cass with the last roundup. She’s beaming, so I know we sold a bunch of books today.”
“New record, guys,” Cassie said. “The manager was grateful you and Gus stayed for an extra few hours. These Sunday signings are the best, but a three hour window is tough to manage. Staying seven hours with only a few short breaks put you guys on the bookstore hero list. Did I miss anything juicy?”
“Not a thing, Cass. Previewing Dark Interlude worked really well. The crowd loved my chapter one reading when Diego meets Fatima. I think your heroine Fatima is a real hit.”
“I knew she-”
“McCarty!” FBI Agent Kaitlin Anderson walked into the back with two other agents. “Hit the road, lady. I need to talk with McCarty. You go with her, Nason.”
“They’re not going anywhere,” Nick said. “I figured you’d be around today after I talked with Grace and Tim this morning. My friends you just insulted will be staying.”
“It’s your funeral. Dominic Calhoun, Rafe Lansing, and Jess Boyer are all missing after their friends said they were coming to talk with you. Where are they?”
Liar. No way did those three goons tell anyone they were meeting with me. “Two of those men I’ve never heard of, and I had no meeting with them. I don’t know what friends of theirs you’re referring to; but if they told you those three were meeting with me, they’re mistaken. If those guys are missing, file a missing persons report. Since when does a special task force with the FBI work on missing persons cases not crossing state lines? Let the local police handle it.”
“You’d like that McCarty,” Anderson said. “We found their abandoned vehicles in Centralia. What did you do with the bodies?”
Cassie gasped, covering her mouth with her hand, looking wildly at Nick. “Let me get you a lawyer, Nick.”
“It’s okay, Cass,” Nick assured her, taking out his iPhone slowly and carefully. He spoke only a few words. “Yes Sir, Agent Anderson is with me now. Sure. Wait one.”
“Either of you other guys named Burnison?”
The agent on Anderson’s left spoke. “I’m Burnison.”
Nick handed him his phone, noticing Anderson’s color becoming red raged. “This is for you.”
“Agent Burnison here.” Burnison’s demeanor stiffened, and his mouth tightened to a thin slash. “Yes Sir, I understand. I will call you before the plane leaves, Sir.”
Burnison handed Nick back his phone. He then held out his hand to Anderson. “Gun and badge, Anderson.”
“What the hell? Have you lost your mind?”
“That was the Director on the phone. You’re under arrest, and I am to strip you of weapon and badge. If you don’t comply I will draw on you.”
“This is a mistake!” Anderson complied as Burnison gripped his weapon.
“Restrain her, Dick,” Burnison directed. “Put your hands behind your back, Kaitlin. Agent Scone will then handcuff you. Do it now.”
The now sullen Anderson did as ordered. “Are you sure about this, Mal?”
“The Director of the FBI just now told me to cuff Kaitlin and take her badge and gun. We’re to pack our things and get the hell back to DC on the first flight available. Yeah… I’m sure.” Burnison turned to Nick. “I’m very sorry for this inconvenience, Marshal McCarty.”
“Thank you for your cooperation, Agent Burnison. I’m sorry it went down like this, but I made some calls when I was told your task force was still in town. Have a nice flight home, Sir.”
Burnison nodded and took Anderson’s arm. She forced a turn toward Nick. “This isn’t over, McCarty!”
For your sake, I hope you’re wrong. “You okay, Cass?”
“What the hell was that all about, Nick?”
“Sometimes my consultations with federal task forces don’t meet with the approval of all task force members. Then one of them does something stupid and I have to make an adjustment. Often, only a stern warning like today is all that’s needed, but in rare cases a more serious statement has to be made.”
“That was just the stern warning?”
“Believe me,” Gus said, putting his arm around Cassie’s shoulders, “that was a stern warning. Is there a bar around here?”
“Sure.”
“Let’s take Nick to it and make him buy us a couple of drinks, Cass.”
“That sounds wonderful, Gus. Doesn’t it, Nick?”
“Yep. Indeed it does. We can’t overdo it though, because Gus and I have to pack. We’re going home tomorrow, and I have to take Deke for a long walk tonight.”
“Do you think that Agent Anderson will make trouble for you?”
“Possibly,” Nick answered, “but only for a short time.”
* * *
“Dante. Chino says be at the Torch Lite Inn at noon.” The young man called out from the passenger window of a 1962 midnight blue Buick Electra.
Dante Rivera had turned the moment he heard the street fill with noise behind him as he neared the rundown apartment house on 2nd Street. He relaxed when he saw the familiar car. “What kind of business we into at high noon, Pero.”
“Suren͂o business, Cabrone. Be there.”
Rivera watched the Buick roll down the street music making the houses vibrate as it went by. Suddenly, he wasn’t alone. Dante knew it a split second before the needle pain in his neck erased pain, thought, and consciousness. He awoke with his head pounding, bound and gagged in the back of an empty delivery van. Three men all in black, one with a full face clown mask and the other two with black silk masks. They sat calmly on small beach chairs.
“He’s awake,” one of the black masked men said, moving over Dante and removing the gag. “Hey kid. How you feeling?”
“Muer…Muerto!”
The masked man laughed as did his companions. “Ah, you know El Muerto, huh?”
“Yes!” Dante stared at the three men with terrified eyes. “I know El Muerto, Payaso, and El Kabong! Please… kill me quick, Muerto! Don’t do it with the bleach.”
El Muerto patted Dante’s arm with his black gloved hand. “Let’s talk about that, Dante. El Muerto is here for another man who you have been working for. If you help El Muerto, I will let you live. I want Chino Salermo.”
Dante became excited. “I know him, Muerto. He orders us around like slaves, telling us we will be rich and part of the Lino Verducci family.”
“You don’t believe him?”
“He will get us all killed or in prison. I can tell. We only exist as a gang if we don’t disrupt the tourist trade. Chino wants to run everything. He cares for nothing. I have been in the Suren͂os since I was a kid. It’s just me and my Mom. Suren͂os will kill us if I quit.”
“There’s a million stories in the naked city, kid.”
“Muerto!”
“Okay…okay… Payaso wants Muerto to help you, Dante. Do you know any places where Chino likes to hang out?”
“There is a bar on Ocean Street called the Jury Room. He goes there late at night with his bodyguards. He made us meet him there a few times. It is where he holds court. Chino thinks it is funny to conduct business in a place called the Jury Room. It’s Friday night. He will stay until closing all weekend. His men are killers, Muerto.”
“Did you just insult me, kid?”
As Payaso and Kabong laughed, Dante shook his head violently in the negative. �
��No Muerto! I merely meant to warn you.”
“Good info. We’re going to take you home. Stay in tonight with your Mom. Is she home?”
“Yes. She cleans motels on the boardwalk during the day, but she will be home tonight. You are really going to let me live, Muerto?”
The masked man reached back and Payaso gave him a small briefcase. Muerto cut Dante free of his restraints and gave a packet of money to the stunned teen. “This is five thousand dollars. Stay home and call no one. Don’t answer your door. Don’t let your Mom call anyone. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Muerto!”
“Drive us back to Dante’s place, OG.”
The van began moving. After five minutes driving, the van slowed to a stop. Payaso opened the sliding side door, and Kabong helped Dante to the door and outside. “Don’t look around, kid. Go home.”
Dante nodded without turning, and walked straight to the apartment he shared with his Mom. He smelled dinner cooking. For the first time in a long while, he thought of his Mom’s pleas for Dante to get out of the Suren͂os. He knew better than to flash the money anywhere, including in front of his Mom. She would not believe his story, but perhaps he could change things now in secret. He went in the kitchen and sat down.
“Mom. We must stay inside tonight and lock the doors. We cannot call anyone. I heard something bad is happening tonight possibly with the Suren͂os.”
Dante’s Mom quickly sat down opposite her son, grabbing his hand. “You are not in trouble are you? Please tell me you didn’t do something foolish.”
“No Ma. I did something right, and now I am here to keep us safe. We must stay in as I have explained. Do you think I could get a job cleaning with you?”
“Yes! We need good workers all the time. Let me get you some dinner.”
“Sure, Ma. Thanks.”
She returned to her stove preparations. “Who is it that warned you of this danger?”
“Someone named El Muerto.”
His Mom spun around. “The dead one?”
“He is not dead, and he showed me the light.”
His Mom made the sign of the cross in a quick reverent motion.
* * *
“You were going to kill that kid, Muerto,” Gus said as the van drove away from Dante’s house.
“Was not,” Nick lied. He worked assembling his Barrett sniper rifle. Once finished with the assembly, he used his portable bore scope to check the rifle’s accuracy. “Would I have given Dante five grand after we spent the day checking him out on the police blotter if I meant to kill him?”
“Yep,” Gus answered.
“Yes,” John agreed.
“Ditto, and don’t give me any of that ‘Et tu, Dan’ shit either.”
“El Muerto is hurt by these unfounded allegations. The compassionate El Muerto prays every day to be able to help the poor and downtrodden gangbangers of the world.”
“Gag.”
“Barf.”
“Ditto,” Dan called out in turn while driving toward the Jury Room bar. “How do you want to handle this?”
“Feel like sipping a few brews in the bar and watching TV while the Unholy Trio find a good spot for a killing?”
“That sounds right down my alley,” Dan answered. “Someone else will have to drive home though. “So, you want me to go in this Jury Room bar, make sure Chino is there, and clue you in when he leaves?”
“That’s the plan. The three of us will network with each other. Wear your ball cap the whole time in the bar low over your forehead, and keep your windbreaker on. When Chino leaves, you leave, and walk in the opposite direction along Ocean until we swing by to pick you up.”
“Got it. Here we are. I’ll go around the block so you can check it out.”
“This is perfect,” Nick said. “The Jury Room has an open parking lot. Check out what’s opposite the place.”
“Damn,” Gus muttered. “A two story Jack in the Box. Who writes this lucky ass script?”
“This is most fortunate,” John agreed.
“There is no lucky or fortunate. There is only El Muerto.”
“Gag.”
“Barf.”
“Ditto.”
* * *
Dan entered the Jury Room. It was cool, dark, and smelled of smoke. He sat at the bar, and a man with a handle bar mustache took his order of a draft beer. Dan liked the place right away. He hadn’t frequented dive bars for over four decades, but this one felt good. He spotted Chino and his two men entertaining two young women at a table near where a small band was performing. Dan texted the sighting, and sipped his beer with calm enjoyment.
Outside, behind the Jack in the Box restaurant, Nick checked the building. “I can be in position in seconds. We’ll wait until Jack closes. I’ll go from the van roof to the second tier of the building. John throws my bag to me and then on the roof I go. You two take off until I need picked up, or Dan gets into trouble. Let’s go wait for closing.”
Two hours later, the van drove next to the Jack in the Box with Nick lying flat on the top. He jumped quickly over to the second tier. John threw his bag into his arms and Gus drove away. Nick vaulted to the roof after throwing his bag over the top first. Minutes later, Nick was in place with his Barrett, a black tarp over him as he sighted in the Jury Room parking lot.
* * *
“I want that bitch found!” Chino Salermo turned away from the Suren͂o gang member reporting to him. “Get the fuck out of my sight!”
The gangbanger hurried out of the bar, and Chino turned to his men. “We know the bitch works at one of the hotels. No more game playing. I want the Suren͂os on the street with her picture going to every fucking hotel in Santa Cruz! Lino called twice today. He wants this shit done. It’s past midnight. Let’s get the hell out of here. The band sucks anyhow.”
As they were walking out, Chino bumped into an old man moving off his stool. He gave the old guy a push into the bar. “Watch where you’re goin’ Gramps.”
“Sorry Sir. It won’t happen again… ever.”
Chino glared at the grinning old man leaning against the bar. “You’re lucky I don’t have time to wipe that fuckin’ grin off your face.”
“Yep. That’s me, Sir. Mr. Lucky.”
Chino led his men outside toward his gray BMW at the far end of the parking lot. He beeped it open. Then to his men, it seemed as if Salermo’s head exploded. While they stood staring at their boss, they died the same way, the silent fifty caliber rounds pulping their heads.
* * *
The van drove alongside Dan, who was weaving slightly. The sliding side door opened. “Get in here while you can still walk, Dan.”
“I can’t help it, Gus. I haven’t had a drink in a while and those three beers did me in. I’m a lightweight.”
“How’d it go?” Dan sat on one of the beach chairs while massaging his knees.
“Messy,” John answered. “Very effective, but messy.”
“You’re not going to believe this, Dan. While we were waiting for Chino, we’ve been hacking around in Lino’s business, and spots where he’s likely to be in New York,” Gus said over his shoulder as he drove. “It even freaked Muerto a little.”
“Did not,” Nick lied. He finished disassembling the Barrett and putting it away. Damn spooky is more like it.
“I ain’t going to live forever. Are you going to tell me or not?”
Nick chuckled. “Lino Verducci has the same office as Hayden Tanus did.”
“Hayden Tanus? Who… oh shit! He’s the guy that put a hit out on Rachel and Jean, and this Verducci guy’s in the same office? No wonder you’re creeped out, Muerto.”
“El Muerto does not get creeped out.”
“Bullshit,” Dan retorted. “That’s dangerous mind altering Karma. You put a hole in Tanus’s head through his picture window from a mile away. If you do Lino’s head the same way through the same window don’t you turn into a werewolf or something?”
Gus had to drive off the road. Luckily, they hadn’
t reached the freeway. It was only after minutes of pounding the steering wheel while trying to regain control enough to drive that Gus was able to continue the journey home. He listened contentedly to the continued hilarity in the back over Dan’s werewolf comment.
* * *
John chuckled once again. Dan glanced over at him from the passenger seat of the van. “I must be getting good at the one liners to keep you entertained this long.”
“That werewolf comment was very good. You almost caused a crash, and Muerto nearly went into a coma laughing.”
“Hey… how did you get stuck with van disposal?”
“There’s no hurry to get it back to Jerry. We covered the license plate when needed, so I will drive it to the valley for the night. You haven’t met Jerry yet. Would you like to ride over with me tomorrow morning? I will not be taking it to him until ten.”
“That sounds good to me,” Dan replied as John slowed alongside his house to a stop. “I’ll go with you when you meet Cala too. I enjoyed meeting Dimah. I thought the meeting went very well too. She liked you. I could tell. When do you plan to spring the suggestion Cala stay with you in the Valley to keep her safe?”
“When I meet her and see if she likes me. Muerto is going with me that day as a reference. I think it would be good to have a Geezer along too. People trust old guys.”
“Thanks, Kabong. I’ll enjoy going with you and Muerto. We’ll have you married in no time. Believe me, John, there’s nothing like having a life’s partner. It’s sometimes a rough road, but worth every mile traveled. Goodnight.”
“See you tomorrow morning, Dan.” John drove off after Dan closed the passenger side door.
Dan looked around at his neighborhood and the sky above, thinking about going for a late night walk rather than face the inside of his empty house. He took a deep breath. C’mon old man, you need some sleep. It ain’t getting any easier after you walk around the block.
He walked to his door, appreciating the clear view of sky and stars. It’s nice not having fog once in a while. Dan unlocked the door and walked inside the dark entryway, closing the door behind him, but didn’t get a chance to lock it. The knife blade went in his left side but glanced off his ribcage. Dan grunted in pain but spun into his attacker, driving him against the wall. He clutched his attacker’s throat with both hands. A smile formed in spite of the pain as the knife sliced into his side again. Dan hip tossed the hooded figure to the floor, digging his fingers into the man’s throat with every ounce of fading strength he had left. The attacker panicked without air, letting the knife drop and grabbing Dan’s hands weakly. Too late for that, kid.
Bloody Shadows Page 33