by Michael Kerr
“Hey, Logan,” Tom shouted. “Glad you could make it.”
Logan introduced him to Debbie, and Tom swiped his right hand down the front of the apron he was wearing and shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Deb,” he said. “How was the bacon and coffee this morning?”
“Marvelous,” Debbie said. “I could hardly eat it for drooling.”
“That’s good to know. Take a seat and prepare to be blown away by what I serve up in a couple of minutes.”
A fat lizard stopped sunning itself and scooted off the top of the red cedar table when Logan and Debbie sat side by side on a bench facing Tom and made small talk. Tom’s hippie wife, Gail, came out back to join them, and there were a few locals and passing trade sitting at several other tables. It appeared that Tom’s cookouts were the stuff of local legend.
They ate their fill, and drank coffee brewed in a large and dented tin coffeepot that looked old enough to have been used by a cook with a chuck wagon on a cattle drive, back in the nineteenth century.
“That was delicious,” Logan said as he put his fork down on the plate. “I’m tempted to buy property nearby so that I can eat here every day.”
They all laughed, and then Gail asked Debbie what was wrong.
“Nothing,” Debbie said. “The meal was terrific.”
“I didn’t mean the food,” Gail said. “I get vibes. I’m one of those crackpots that see auras around people, and yours is dark and strong and indicates to me that you are experiencing negativity and depression. You’re not in a good place.”
“Enough,” Tom said to Gail. “You’ll have these good folk thinking that you’re a freakin idiot. Save that kind of stuff for the friends you have that believe in it.”
“I always say it as I see it,” Gail said to Debbie, ignoring her husband. “Auras are for the most part associated with people. We sometimes say things like, ‘He has an aura about him’, or ‘She has a glow about her’. Fact is all living things generate a field of energy, and with people it provides an insight to the spiritual, emotional and physical aspects of an individual.”
“You could just be a psychology major,” Debbie said. “People’s feelings can sometimes be read without needing an aura to do it.”
“Time we hit the road,” Logan said as he took bills from his pants pocket to pay for the food. “We need to be somewhere else.”
“Sorry about that,” Tom said to Logan as he walked back to the pickup with him. “Gail is a weird one, but she means well.”
Debbie had hung back. She needed to offload some of her angst on another woman. After five minutes Logan and Tom walked back round to see what was holding them back.
“We need to help Debbie and Logan,” Gail said to Tom. “They’re in a real bind.”
Logan gave Debbie an exasperated look. Knew from the way her shoulders slumped and the fact that she could not look him in the eyes that she had told Gail everything.
“It’s not your problem,” Logan said. “We can deal with it.”
“I’m the only one here in the dark,” Tom said. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Some bad people broke into Debbie’s house,” Gail said. “They shot her mom dead and abducted Debbie and her daughter, Kelly, then took them to a motel. Logan heard Debbie scream and broke into the room. He dealt with the two men, but a woman that had been with them took Kelly and drove off.”
“Did you call the police?” Tom said to Logan.
“No. Too big a risk. But one of the men told me who was behind it, and I have cell phones and numbers, and think I know where they’ve taken Kelly.”
“Where?”
“A company on a business park in Fort Myers.”
“Do you have a weapon?”
“Yeah. Now back off from it, Tom. This is not your problem. This is a professional outfit, not a bunch of amateurs.”
Tom gripped Logan’s shoulder with a large, powerful hand. “Listen up, Logan,” he said. “You ain’t Superman. You’re driving a piece of shit pickup that’s falling to pieces around you, and you’re slowing yourself down even more by having Debbie with you.”
“I insisted on going along,” Debbie said.
“Bad idea,” Tom said. “You have more chance of getting your daughter back in one piece if you’re not part of the posse. I have a suggestion.”
“So spit it out,” Logan said as he reached up, took hold of Tom’s wrist and unclamped the man’s hand from his shoulder.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
NICK completed twenty lengths of the infinity pool in a fast crawl, then climbed up the steps at the shallow end and used his fingers to comb his hair back from his forehead. He put on a white robe, and then picked up a towel to rub his hair and dry his hands with as he walked over to a lounger and stretched out on it. He hadn’t had enough sleep, due to the ongoing problem with the mystery man, Logan. Vince had phoned him several hours previously and told him that the girl had been safely delivered to the company, and that Jade was lying low in a hotel until Logan was no longer a threat.
Nick had told Vince to keep the girl safe, and not to have her transported to Atlanta, where she was already paid for by a couple that knew they were making an illegal purchase, but didn’t care. He also instructed Vince to have a photo taken of the little girl under duress, to send to Logan as a JPEG when he next contacted them. He and the child’s mother needed to get it through their thick heads that he was running the show, and that he would have the kid hurt if any more of his employees were harmed.
A shadow fell over Nick. It was Gina. She was wearing a floppy wide-brimmed hat, a flesh-colored thong, and a bikini top that barely covered her nipples.
“Are you playing golf today?” Gina said, sitting down on another lounger, putting on a pair of Gucci shades and lying back, to open a hardback Patterson thriller that the author had signed for her a few weeks ago.
“Yes. Just nine holes after lunch. Why?”
“Because we have that fundraiser to attend in Sarasota this evening.”
“I hadn’t forgotten.”
“Good. There will be a lot of influential folk there, and Sonja Franklin says that Matthew McConaughey is expected to turn up.”
“Who the hell is he?”
“The actor that you said you liked in The Lincoln Lawyer.”
Nick shrugged. Good movies were fine now and then, but actors didn’t overly impress him. They were just paid to pretend to be someone that they weren’t. No big deal. Real life was far more interesting and exciting. Maybe he wouldn’t play golf. He could burn off just as many calories by calling by to screw Jade at the hotel she was staying at. He supposed that it was acting with her too, taking her background into account. But he didn’t give a fuck. He didn’t make love, he had sex, and Jade knew all the right buttons to push. Pity that Gina didn’t. And even if she did he would still play the field, because variety really was the spice of life. He even raped some of the young girls and women that were brought in to be sold on. Other men could only dream of doing a lot of the things he did, but they couldn’t or wouldn’t do them, due to being scared of being caught, or because they knew that they would feel guilty for their actions. He had no conscience. People were just a commodity like drugs, to convert into wealth and attain pleasure from.
At the table out back of the country store, drinking more coffee, Logan let Tom make a case for why he should be part of a two-man team to get Kelly back.
“I’ve got a real boys’ toy in the barn,” Tom said. “A muscle car. It’s a Chevy Camaro ZL1 with a supercharged 6.2 liter V8 engine. That equates to 580 hp and a top speed over one hundred eighty miles per hour. It’s got a six-speed manual transmission, and—”
“Enough,” Logan said. “Is that it, an over-the-top sports car?”
“No, you get a topnotch driver to go with it. And I have some neat weaponry under the counter for discerning customers. I propose that Debbie stays here with Gail and runs the store, while we go and do whatever it takes to get Kelly back.”
“It won’t be a walk in the park,” Logan said. “One or both of us may not make it back here to eat any more of your steak and sweet corn.” He then gave Gail a hard look and said to her, “Do you want to take the risk of being a widow?”
“Tom can handle himself, Logan, believe me,” Gail said. “He can be as sneaky and dangerous as a Florida panther. By the time some city scumbag realizes he’s there, it’ll already be too late for him. For a big man he treads softly and moves fast.”
Debbie had just listened. Without meaning to she had involved Logan and now this friendly, caring couple in her problem. Her mind insisted that she stop it here and now and call the police, but her heart knew that if she was to ever see Kelly again it would be because Logan was prepared to fight fire with fire, and apparently Tom was too. And she knew that she should stay with Gail. Insisting on accompanying the men would just hold them back. She would be a liability.
Logan got up and walked off toward the side of the highway. He wanted to go it alone, but had enough sense to appreciate that the aid offered by someone as apparently able as Tom should not be dismissed out of hand.
A semi-truck approached from the west, to pass by and leave him standing in a cloud of dust and currents of exhaust gases from the tailpipe that pointed out to the offside towards him. He wished that he had not become caught up in serious trouble again; that he could have stuck his thumb out and hoped to see the rear lights glow and hear the air brakes hiss as the truck driver stopped to give him a ride. But wishing was for children and fools. In the real world you had to deal with what was, not how you would like it to be. Wishes could take a lot of hard work if you were to have a chance of them coming true.
Decision made, Logan ambled back to where Debbie, Gail and Tom were still sitting round the table. He picked up his cup and drained it.
“What’s your decision?” Tom said.
“That I think you’re crazy, but if you want to risk everything you’ve got, and Gail agrees, then we’ll plan each step along the way and take these jerks down.”
It was mid-afternoon and hot and humid when the two big men loaded the back of the Camaro and squeezed into the front of it. The bronze colored car was low to the ground, sleek and built for speed. Space was limited, and even with the passenger seat pushed all the way back, Logan was still uncomfortable.
Tom had reversed the old pickup into the barn. He had then hugged and kissed Gail and told her that he’d call her when he could to let her know that they were okay. Logan was just going to tell Debbie to keep thinking positive when she embraced him and held him tight.
“Be careful,” she said, and he nodded and said that he would be.
As the V8 engine throbbed to life and Tom pulled away from the store, Logan had the same kind of feeling that he’d had as a young man back in the day, when he had been in uniform and was going to war.
Tom kept to the speed limits as he drove to Fort Myers. He was feeling good; more alive than he had felt for years. Running the store was fine, but didn’t get his juices flowing. He felt cautiously optimistic that he and Logan would be able to deal with the bad guys and get the girl back.
“Why’d you buy this impractical piece of chrome and steel?” Logan said, breaking Tom’s line of thought.
“For the pure fun of it,” he said. “I only take it out to let these horses under the hood have their heads once a week. For day-to-day use I have a Discovery. It’s roomy and practical, but wouldn’t make a good getaway vehicle.”
“We would have been better off in it. I like a little legroom. And this mean machine wouldn’t raise an eyebrow in Miami, but it stands out like a sore thumb in these parts.”
“No one will expect you to be proactive, Logan. And they certainly wouldn’t be looking for you in this.”
The sun was setting when they parked in a space over two hundred yards away from the gates of NC Transport. The yard was lit up like a football field, and over the following hour, half a dozen big rigs with containers on trailers rolled out into the fading light.
It was thirty minutes later that Logan saw a slim young man wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase come out of an office, walk across to where cars were parked and climb into a small sedan.
“When that car pulls out, follow it,” Logan said to Tom. “I think that guy could be a mine of information.”
Will Fleming drove out and headed for US 41. He tapped the on button of the radio and let the middle of the road music on WAVV calm him down. He had not left the premises for over thirty-six hours, due to problems with the computer system and the vast amount of work that needed to be done when it was finally up and running again. He had grabbed a bite to eat in the small canteen, and then crashed for a couple of hours on a sofa in the office upstairs that was used by management for meetings. He was overtired and intended to sleep for at least nine hours. He was also a little ashamed of what he did for a living. Seeing Jade drag the sobbing little girl into the office had caused him to question his lowly position in Nick Cady’s organization. When he had applied for the post he had no idea that he would be joining an outfit that was a criminal enterprise. But the pay was extremely good, and all he did was bookwork and schedule deliveries. Still, he may have left, but couldn’t. After being with the company for six months he had been given a package to deliver to Larry Kramer, unaware that it was cocaine. Larry had shown him what it was, and then opened it and invited him to have a snort, and he had been stupid and done a couple of lines. That was when Larry told him what really happened at NC Transport, and that he was a part of it now, and that as long as he did what was required of him and kept his mouth shut, he would be looked after. He was also told that if he ever showed disloyalty, then he would lose a lot more than his position at NCT.
Reaching the apartment building, Will parked in the residents’ lot and walked across to the entrance door to swipe his smart card through the lock. The door clicked open and he crossed the threshold and headed for the elevator. Sometimes it worked, but on many occasions it was out of order, like the security camera that was mounted over the front door. As he hit the call button he heard footsteps, turned, and was faced by two men that had followed him in before the door had closed and locked.
They were both wearing latex gloves, and Logan had the silenced Glock in his hand, not taking any chances. The young guy was probably unarmed, but it wasn’t something he would take as a given.
The sound of the car descending seemed very loud in the otherwise silent lobby, and Will just stood rock still and stared wide-eyed at the tall figures of Logan and Tom. His mouth had gone bone-dry and he couldn’t stop swallowing and licking his lips. His brain was numb. He didn’t know who they were or what they wanted, but from the look on their faces it was obvious that they were interested in him.
There was a strident ding to signal that the elevator had arrived. The door slid open, but he did not move a muscle.
“Get in,” Logan said. “And stand at the back with both hands on the wall.”
“Are you cops?” Will asked in no more than a hoarse whisper.
“You know we’re not,” Logan said. “That’s why we’re wearing gloves, and why you’re shaking like a leaf. Get in the elevator, son, or I’ll shoot you.”
Adrenaline kicked in as Will reacted to the threat without conscious thought. He lunged forward and swung the rigid aluminum briefcase he was carrying at the gunman, to get lucky and catch him hard on the shoulder, knocking him sideways into the other guy.
Dropping the case, Will bolted for the main door, reached it, and was about to jerk it open and hit the sidewalk when a paralyzing pain in his neck stopped him in his tracks.
Tom had lurched to the side but regained his balance almost immediately and was on the fleeing guy in two seconds, to grip him around the neck and apply crushing force with a large and calloused hand that he employed like a small hydraulic press.
Will felt his feet almost leave the floor as he was turned and marched back to the elevator ca
r and thrown inside it, to smack his forehead on the metal wall and drop to his knees.
Logan picked up the briefcase and got in the car behind Tom. “Which floor?” he said to their captive.
“Four,” Will murmured, massaging his aching neck, but not attempting to stand up.
Logan pressed the button.
There were ten floors with six apartments on each. Will rented number 403. He was ushered out of the elevator and led them to it. Fumbled in his jacket pocket for the key, unlocked and opened the door.
Tom ran his hand up the wall and thumbed on the light switch.
“What’s your name?” Logan asked the young guy, whom he judged to be in his mid-twenties.
“Will Fleming,” Will said. “What do you want?”
“Answers,” Logan said. “You work for Nick Cady, and we need to know everything that you know about him and his operation.”
“I work in the office,” Will said. “I just deal with accounts and stuff.”
Logan stared at Will, and read him like an open book, and knew that he was shit-scared and lying through his teeth. There was always a ‘tell’. Will couldn’t look him in the eye, and reached up and pulled at his right earlobe.
“You don’t seem to be a retard,” Logan said. “At a guess I’d say that you’re quite well educated and intelligent. You’re not one of them, but you’re part of their outfit. You probably get well paid and act like those monkeys that hear, see and speak no evil. But you’re as guilty as hell by association, so be aware that telling me the truth is the only way to stop me putting a bullet through your head.”
Tom wasn’t sure if Logan was just trying to put the fear of God in the young man, or whether he meant it. Executing someone would be going too far. It wasn’t something that Tom would want to be a part of. He didn’t know Logan well enough to call it, though, so just chewed at the inside of his cheek as he waited to see how it panned out.