The Harry Starke Series: Books 7-9 (The Harry Starke Series Boxed Set Book 3)

by Blair Howard

  I said nothing more. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t focus. My guts were in turmoil; my head was still numb. I got up, grabbed Amanda’s hand, pulled her to her feet, and headed for the door. Kate stayed for a moment—to speak to Sheddon, I supposed—but she followed a minute or so later, and caught up with us in the parking lot.

  “Harry,” she said, “we need to talk. I know you, and I know what’s going on inside you. You can’t do what you’re planning. You go off on some kind of crazy crusade and I can’t—I won’t help you, and I won’t be able to protect you. It’s officially my case. Let me handle it. I’ll keep you up to speed, but you have to leave it to us.”

  When she saw the look on my face she must have known she was pissing in the wind. It wasn’t going to happen, and she knew it. He was my brother, and it would be me who….

  “Sure, Kate,” I said. “I understand. We’re going home now. I need to get some rest. I still have a company to run, right?”

  “Shit,” she said. “Here we go. I’m warning you, Harry. I can’t let you do this.”

  I smiled at her. Well, it was meant to be a smile. It was probably more of a grimace.

  “Come on, Kate. You and I both know how it works. You’ll do your thing. You’ll find nothing. Three months from now the case will be cold and sitting on a shelf in some back room at the PD. Right?”

  She didn’t answer. We’d both seen it so many times before. It was one of the reasons I’d quit the force in the first place: hands tied, bureaucracy, politics, you name it. I withstood it for almost nine years, during most of which Kate had been my partner, and then I’d had it with the system. I quit and formed my own private investigation agency. Since then, Kate, now a lieutenant in the Major Crimes Unit, had remained a sort of pseudo partner, an insider at the PD with whom I was privileged to work on occasion, the latest being the disappearance of the Chief Johnston’s daughter. I’d found the pigs responsible for her death, and by God I’d find those responsible for Henry’s.

  I told Kate, “Call me tomorrow. On my cell phone. I’ll keep you up to speed.” Then I opened the car door for Amanda, nodded to Kate, and then I headed to Riverview Road where I picked up Rose and my father—I needed to gather what was left of my little family together. There was no way I could leave them to grieve alone; we would do that as a family, at home.

  Chapter 5

  Tuesday Morning, Early

  I hardly slept at all that night. I lay on top of the covers with Amanda snuggled in close to me. She slept, but only fitfully. By four o’clock in the morning, I was outside seated on the patio with a cup of coffee, staring down at the lights of a city that didn’t seem quite so friendly anymore.

  I’d only been there a few minutes when she slipped her hands over my shoulders, down my chest, and laid her cheek against the top of my head.

  “Sit,” I said, looking up at her. She slipped onto the bench beside and sat, feet apart, knees together, with her hands clasped in her lap.

  “You want coffee?” I asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Somewhere down there,” I said after a moment, “sleeping without a care in the world, are the bastards that killed Henry. I’m going to find them, Amanda, and when I do—”

  “You can’t,” she told me. “You heard what Kate said. You’ll go to jail for the rest of your life.”

  I smiled, sipped on my coffee, said nothing. I put my arm around her and pulled her in close. She was soft and warm, and she smelled heavenly, and any other time…. That night, however, what was left of it, was different. I just needed to hold her. So I did.

  I didn’t run that next morning. August and Rose joined us on the patio around six, and we just watched the sun rise, sitting quietly side by side. I held Amanda’s hand, August held Rose’s, and we sat there speaking hardly at all for more than an hour. God only knew what was going on their heads. For sure I knew what was going on in mine, and it wasn’t pretty.

  Amanda made breakfast around seven, not that any of us wanted to eat. She said it seemed to be the thing to do. We ate in silence. I drank three cups of coffee. Rose was… well, I dunno. How can you know?

  Finally, Amanda spoke. “Harry, talk to me.”

  “About what?”

  “Oh God, you know what. What are you going to do?”

  At that, Rose and my father both looked at me. It was the question they both had been waiting for.

  “I’m going to find them, the people responsible for Henry’s murder, but you knew that, so why ask?” It came across harshly, not at all like I’d wanted. Amanda looked at me like I’d slapped her in the face. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I’m so damned…. Shit, I don’t know what I am. I’m sorry, Amanda.”

  She looked mollified, but I wasn’t sure, so I reached out and took her hand and kissed it.

  “It will be all right,” I whispered. “I promise….”

  Yeah, but will it?

  I thought for a moment, and then decided they needed a little more than I could give, at least right then, but I tried.

  “It shouldn’t be too difficult—to find them, I mean. It takes a certain kind of low life to do something like this, and they’ll need to talk about it, brag about it. They always do. It’s a street thing; builds cred among the bangers. Word will be on the street, even now. People talk; people listen. Two days, no more, and I’ll know. You’ll see. Now, Amanda. I need to go to the office. I need you to stay here with my mom and dad. I’ll be back as soon as I can—” and at that, Rose started crying again. I’d never called her that before. It was kind of out there, her being as young as she was, but it somehow seemed appropriate just then.

  “Why?” Amanda asked. “Why do you have to go to work today? Surely—”

  I gave her hand a squeeze. “No, I’m not going to work. I won’t, not until this thing is done with, and…. I just need to make sure they have everything they need to carry on without me. And I need to make some calls. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  I turned to my parents. “You guys stay here ’till this is over. No arguments. Two, maybe three days. That’s all. I want you where I know you’ll be okay. Amanda will look after you both. Now, I have to go.”

  It was almost nine o’clock when I walked into the office that morning. It was silent as a tomb. Oh, everyone was there, but no one was talking.

  “It’s okay, folks,” I told them. “I’m okay. Life goes on and so do we. I just need to take a few days off, look after my parents. I only came in to make sure you have everything you need. Bob, Jacque, I need a few minutes with both of you, in my office, please.”

  I spent the next thirty minutes explaining to them what had happened to Henry and how I was going to take a few days off, and then I explained what their duties would be while I was gone.

  “Jacque, for you there won’t be much change in your daily routine. Bob, you’ll take over my role. It shouldn’t be for more than three or four days, but I need to know things here will continue on as usual. Okay?”

  They both nodded; they both sat there staring at me. It was Bob who spoke first.

  “Jacque,” he said, “I’d like to talk to Harry alone, if you don’t mind.”

  “Hah, you tink?”

  Oh hell, there’s the accent. She’s pissed.

  “You tink you de only one who give a damn. I’m stayin’ put.”

  Bob looked at her and smiled. He knew her as well as I did. There would be nothing done without Jacque being a part of it. She’s been my personal assistant since before she got out of college. She’s thirty years old, but looks nineteen. She’s Jamaican, beautiful, and… gay, something I only found out recently. She has a master’s degree in business administration and a bachelor’s in criminology, but that’s not why I hired her. I hired her because I thought she could do the job, and because I liked her.

  Bob nodded at her. She smiled at him. They both turned to look at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Talk to
us, Harry,” Bob said.

  I shook my head. “I can’t. What I’m about to do could at worst get me killed, and at best put me behind bars. You don’t need to even know.”

  “You crazy son of a bitch,” Bob growled. “After what we’ve been through together? If you think you can go after them on your own, without me, you’re friggin’ nuts. If you think you can leave me out of this—”

  “This is different, Bob. I never intended to kill anyone before—”

  “Yeah, but you did. We did. I pulled your ass out of the fire more than a couple of times, same as you did mine. Harry, you don’t have a say in this one. You try leaving me out, I’ll quit my job right here and now and go after them alone. Your folks already lost Henry; you think…. It ain’t gonna happen, brother.”

  Brother? I smiled. That’s another first.

  When I looked at Jacque, she was nodding slowly. “You heard the man. What he said, I say.”

  “Both of you? Jacque, I can’t have you out there—”

  “You want my notice in writin’, or will word of mout’ do?”

  “Jacque, we’re talking violence here, probably deadly violence.”

  “I know that. And you know I can handle it.”

  And she was right. She could handle a firearm better than most, and she had a black belt in Krav Maga, courtesy of Heather Stillwell, my other senior investigator. Still….

  “Okay.” I said it reluctantly, but I knew they both meant what they said. “But nothing said in this office leaves here, right?”

  Oh my God, Jacque too. What the hell am I thinking?

  They both nodded.

  It was right about then that my cell phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, and I almost ignored the call, but fortunately I didn’t.

  “Harry, is that you?”

  Benny Hinkle? What the hell?

  Benny was the last person I would have expected to hear from. You’d have to know him to understand. He’s not all he appears to be, a weird little creep… ah, not so little, more a fat bastard than little. Anyway, he’s the greasy slob who owns and runs the Sorbonne, a so-called downtown nightclub that the cops say is the original butthole of the seedy side of the city. Be that as it may, Benny is as sharp as a tack and the two of us have enjoyed… well, maybe not enjoyed, a symbiotic though somewhat tenuous relationship for more years than I can remember.

  “Benny, this is not a good time.”

  “Yeah, I know. I heard about your brother. I’m sorry. Look, we gotta talk, an’ quick.”

  “Talk about what?” I looked over the desk at Bob and Jacque. They were watching me questioningly. I shrugged.

  “Not over the phone, Harry, an’ not here. I’ll come see you. I’ll be at your offices in ten minutes; leave that damn gate open for me. I don’t want anybody to see me, okay?” And then he hung up, leaving me more than a little baffled.

  “Was that Benny Hinkle?” Bob asked. “What the hell was that about?”

  “The hell if I know, but we will soon. He’s on his way here.”

  Bob was astounded. “Here? He never crawls out of that cesspit he calls a bar. What the hell can he want?”

  The answer was soon forthcoming. I met Benny at the side door, inside the small compound that is my office parking lot, the product of another now almost forgotten conflict with the denizens of our fair city.

  He came skittering in through the open door like a fat rat on the run from a hungry cat. He reached the doorway, stopped, turned, looked furtively around, then backed all the way in and slammed the door behind him. He was breathing hard, like just he’d run a marathon.

  “Whew.” He grinned up at me. He was all of five foot eight. “That was exciting. Where can we talk?”

  I looked him up and down, sighed, and said, “In my office. It’s this way.”

  “Hey, Bob,” Benny smirked as he slipped by me, sideways, into my office. “How’s the private dick business?” Bob gave him a look that would have petrified most mortals, but one of those Benny is not.

  He dropped his fat ass into one of my expensively upholstered guest chairs—I shuddered to think what grease and filth he might be depositing—and he gazed fondly at Jacque.

  “Well now, Harry. Who’s this lovely young slip of a girl?”

  I looked at her and shook my head.

  She got the message. “I’m Jacque Hale, Mr. Starke’s personal assistant.”

  “Whoooh, Mr. Starke. Personal assistant. How fine and high and mighty.”

  “That’s enough, Benny. What do you want?”

  “Well, as I said on the phone, I heard about your brother. I’m sorry, Harry. He was good little kid. Used to come into the club now and then. Never caused any trouble. Went off the track a bit, but don’t we all? Okay, okay. I’m gettin’ to it. There’s talk, talk on the street. Hell, they was yackin’, in my bar, last night for Christ’s sake. Duvon James has been braggin’ about how he done it. Never could keep his mouth shut, that one….”

  “What?” I leaned toward him. “What the hell are you talking about? They left town more than two years ago when Harper went down. All three of them did: Shady, Duvon, and the creepy little bastard, uh… Gold.”

  “Yeah, well, they’s back. Have been for more’n a year. Shady’s still working for Harper. Well, his daughter an’ her lawyer husband.”

  I stared at him over the desk. I could hardly believe what he was telling me. “How do I not know about this?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Dunno. Well yeah, I do. They bin keepin’ a really low profile. The Greenes”—he shrugged—“I thought everyone knew they was runnin’ Harper’s empire now that he’s a guest of the government.”

  “Well yeah, but I didn’t know that Tree was back. I guess it makes sense, though. He never was charged with anything. Benny, you piece of garbage. Why didn’t you tell me he was back?”

  He shrugged, looked sheepishly down at his feet, then said, “Dunno. Didn’t think it mattered.”

  “So what’s he doing for them, the Greenes?”

  “Not sure. Drugs, I think.”

  “So Duvon James in the Sorbonne, huh?” I asked thoughtfully.

  “Look, Harry. I don’t know. Street talk is he’s braggin’ about how he done Harry Starke’s baby brother—”

  My blood ran cold.

  “An’ put him… in the river,” Benny continued, warily. “Harry, the word is John Greene’s put a contract out on you, which is why I didn’t want you in my place, an’ why I didn’t wanna be seen talkin’ to you.”

  A contract. Scary? You bet, but it wasn’t the first time. And, as they say, forewarned is forearmed.

  “Thanks Benny. How much?”

  “Oh you don’t owe me…. Oh, you mean the contract? Twen’y-five large.”

  I nodded.

  “What do you know about them, Benny?”

  “The Greenes? Not a whole lot. They also like to keep outa sight an’ outa mind.”

  “No, Benny. Not the Greenes. Them I know about. Shady and his goons. What are they up to? Where are they holed up? Are they on their own? What?”

  He shook his head. “There you have me, Harry. I know they’re here somewhere, but where… I don’t know. You’d better be watchin’ your ass is all I can say.”

  “Okay, Benny. Here’s what I want you to do—”

  “Now hold on there, big fella. I ain’t getting’ involved in any of this. You’re on your own.”

  “You’re already involved, Benny. You involved yourself the minute you picked up the phone and called me. You think they don’t, or won’t, know you ratted on them?”

  “I didn’t rat on any… oh yeah, I suppose I did.” He heaved a big sigh. “Okay, whadda you want?”

  “I want to know where Shady is operating from—where he’s holed up—how many people he has working for him, and what he’s doing for the Greenes. You give me that and I’ll end this thing fast. I want it today, tonight at the latest. You have my cell number. Call anytime. I’ll be waiting. Now g
et out of here.”

  He jumped to his feet and headed for the door.

  “Hey, Benny, wait.”

  He stopped in the doorway, turned. “What?”

  “Thanks.”

  He nodded. “You owe me, Starke…. Nah, you don’t; you’re welcome.” Then he turned again and was gone, leaving the three of us staring at the open door. Finally, Jacque got up and closed it.

  “Still want in?” I asked them both as she returned to her seat.

  They nodded.

  “Well, you heard him. Thoughts?”

  “Well,” Bob said, “the good news, if there is any, is that we know they’re after you. We’ll be ready. I think maybe I should come and stay up at your house until this thing is done, maybe Jacque too. Together we stand, divided we fall, right?”

  I thought about it, and in part I agreed with the idea. There were a couple of problems, though. One of them was Amanda, the other my father.

  “I can’t have my folks and Amanda knowing about any of this,” I said. “I don’t know how we could hide it from them if you two are up at the house.”

  “Not a good idea, boss,” Jacque said. “Don’t you dare lie to Amanda. Tell her the truth. They all know what you are and what you do. They’re used to it. They’ll understand.”

  I thought some more, nodded, and said, “Okay. It’s a plan. But before we leave we’ll put Heather in the picture. She’ll have to hold down the fort while we see this thing through. Now, let’s get prepped.”

  We left my office and headed down the corridor, past Tim’s cyber world to the small strong room where we kept the weapons and… other things. I entered the code on the touchpad and spun the lock.

  I grabbed three large, black canvas holdalls from one of the shelves and dumped them on the steel table in the center of the room.

  “Vests first,” I said, reaching for a Point Blank Spider Tactical vest I thought might fit Jacque and handing it to her. “Try that on. It needs to be snug, but not too tight.”

  She stripped off her jacket and slipped it on: perfect. Mine and Bob’s were on hangers. All three vests went in the bags, one in each.