by K Elliott
They both got out of the SUV and parted ways. The Hiatus Inn was not a fancy hotel. It was clean and well-run, though. The lot had many vehicles for a Wednesday night. The rooms on two of the floors were all occupied; the other floor had twelve vacancies.
At 10:13 p.m., Brian entered the lobby and walked up to the smiling, white desk attendant.
Dan Gilcrest was a 53-year-old man with a friendly face. “Welcome to the Hiatus Inn. May I help you?”
“Yes, I’d like a room. A single.”
“I’m sorry; we’re all booked with no vacancies.”
Brian said, “It’s after ten. Are you telling me you have rooms that are booked for the day, but the guests still haven’t arrived?”
“Sir, that exactly what I’m telling you. Now, there are several other hotels in the area. I bet none of them are all booked on a Wednesday night, but we are. So why don’t you give them a try.” He still smiled, pretending to be nice, then looked down at the security monitors next to the 23-inch flat-panel computer screen.
Brian said, “You’re not booked up. If I had the password for the day, I could get a room on the floor you got reserved for your Echelon guests.”
Dan’s right foot bumped an emergency button under the desk. “Sir, I have no idea what you’re referring to. Perhaps if you -”
Brian pulled out a silenced gun from his sports coat and aimed it at Dan’s chest. “Step back from the desk and come around so you can lock this door since you’re all booked the fuck up.”
“Alright.” He backed away from the desk with his hands raised at chest-level. “Take it easy.” Dan stepped around the desk then stopped. He looked back at the desk counter and said, “I’ll need the keys. They’re behind the desk.”
This time Brian smiled. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but if you don’t -” A door to his left, which he had assumed was either a storage room door or a closet door, was flung open. Brian saw the staircase and two large, white men aiming sub-machine guns that looked much more violent that his silenced handgun.
Dan said to Brian, “Drop your gun, or they will kill you.”
Brian was watching the gunmen but still kept his gun aimed at the desk assistant. “They’ll kill me anyway, so I might as well follow you to hell.”
Dan said, “No, no. We don’t want any guns to go off in this hotel. I just want to know what you know about Echelon.”
Brian hesitated then began slowly lowering his weapon.
Chapter 6
Etceterra had stepped out of the stairwell when he heard a room door open. Down the hall, he saw a white man exiting one of the suites, so he walked faster to catch the man. Several seconds later, Etceterra caught the man at the elevator, grabbed his arm, and spun him around.
The 60-year-old man was nicely dressed, with no sports coat. He looked scared right now, especially after seeing a gun aimed at his belly.
Etceterra said, “Back to your room. No talking, no questions. Let’s go.”
The elderly man followed the order but really didn’t want to. When he made it back to Room 308, he fumbled with his key card. He felt the gunman poke him in the back.
Etceterra said, “You’re looking at kidney failure if that door isn’t opened in five seconds.”
The man inserted the card and unlocked the door three seconds later.
Etceterra shoved him inside, sending him to the floor, then closed the door. He used one hand to motion for the man to get up. When the man stood, Etceterra nudged him forward. They turned the corner and now a young, white woman could be seen in bed.
As they approached the call girl, the elderly man began feeling as if he would break down.
The woman was young. Very young. She was lying in bed with the covers pulled up to her neck.
Etceterra pat-searched the man then slipped on a pair of clear latex gloves. He produced some plasticuffs and secured the man’s wrists behind his back. After looking at the man’s driver’s license he said to the girl, “You work for Echelon?”
“Yes. Yes, sir.”
He walked up to the bed and pulled the covers off of her. She was naked. “How old are you?”
She said, “Thirteen.”
Etceterra sighed. He tossed the covers back on top of her. “Get dressed. You’re leaving with me.” He turned toward the man. “Pete Garland. Sit down. Right there on the floor.” He studied the items that were in the man’s wallet. Too many credit cards - even a black card - photos, maybe $800. Etceterra stuffed the wallet in his own pocket.
Pete said, “Can I make a deal with you, buddy?”
“No deals.” Etceterra pulled out a prepaid phone and dialed Brian’s cell phone number. After six rings he ended the call. He stepped past Pete and walked over to the window. He looked down in the parking lot and saw two white men inspecting Brian’s stolen Ford Explorer. His heart began racing.
Pete wanted to talk to the gunman, talk his way out of this mess. The girl was still in the bathroom getting dressed.
Etceterra returned to Pete then sat at the foot of the bed facing him. He retrieved a silencer and a digital recorder from the left pocket of his sports coat. As he fitted the silencer onto the end of his handgun, he said, “I’m looking for a reason to kill my first pedophile. I’m going to ask you a few questions, Pete. I expect nothing but the truth.”
“I won’t lie to you, buddy. I swear.”
“That’s good, but if you call me your buddy again, I’ll prove you wrong.”
The girl slowly exited the bathroom timidly, unsure of how to act. She was very pretty and still retained a look of innocence.
Etceterra looked back and said, “Sit here, next to me. What’s your name?”
“Veranda.” She sat next to the gunman.
“Veranda what?”
“Veranda Spielman.”
“Well, Veranda,” Etceterra said, “sit here and listen to everything this foolish old man is about to tell me. I’ll need you to fill in some of the blanks later.” He looked at his phone and thought about calling Echo. But first, he needed some answers.
Chapter 7
“THERE ARE THREE HOTELS called Hiatus,” Pete said. “One’s in San Fran and L.A. and San Diego, here. You call a certain number and ask for Dale Oates. Describe your preferred Caucasian date, which means you’ll have to stay down here.”
Etceterra said, “In other words?”
“In San Diego, they have only Caucasians waiting in the room for you. In L.A., they only have blacks; and in San Fran, they have their homosexuals. All appointment are private, and the transactions are cash-only.”
“How much?”
Pete said, “Two thousand per night for a single appointment. Two dates is thirty-five hundred, and so is a single date under the age of seventeen.”
Etceterra wanted to shoot him in the head. “This Dale Oates, can anybody call him and get a date set up if they have the money?”
“Definitely not. They only trust clients they’ve dealt with for a while. A long-term client would have to recommend the new person. Even then, Echelon would do a background check on him or her, and probably their own investigation. It could take weeks to get approved.”
Etceterra looked at the girl and said, “Any of that sounds like a lie to you?”
She shook her head negatively.
Pete said, “This entire floor is monitored by the guy down at the front desk. If he saw you come in here with me, two guys with guns will probably arrive and knock on the door. That’s one of the main rules: No guests are allowed. Strictly enforced.”
Etceterra imagined the desk attendant being occupied with Brian and then Brian being occupied with the two goons seen searching the SUV.
Pete said, “So, even if you weren’t spotted coming in, you’ll almost certainly be seen coming out, especially with the girl.”
Etceterra knew the man was right. “You obviously meet someone when you pay in cash. Who and where?”
“Once you contact Mr. Oates and let him know what
type of appointment you want, he’ll check his list then ask you to make your payment at the front desk of whichever Hiatus your appointment will be at.”
“Who owns the Hiatus hotels?”
Pete said, “This network is run by Ryan Madison, but I’m told the three hotels are in somebody else’s name. Ryan and the owner work real close together. That’s the rumor.”
Etceterra had learned enough. It was time to call Echo and Kiandra.
Chapter 8
ON PAPER, ARTHUR STANTON was the owner of the Hiatus hotels. But the 47-year-old white man was paralyzed from the waist down and had been for the past nineteen years. Echo and Kiandra knew that the disabled man was being used merely as a stand-in and future scapegoat for Ryan Madison, which is why Echo hadn’t wanted to waste time on a paraplegic. But Brian had insisted.
They were sixty yards from Arthur’s ocean view home in Oxnard, California. Echo, Kiandra, and Arthur were twenty yards from a dramatic cliff, seventy-three feet above the Pacific Ocean. Echo said, “You been living in that fancy-ass house and move around in this high-tech wheelchair for, what, five years? But I bet you never saw this cliff from this close.” He was standing behind the man’s wheelchair, holding it by the chair’s handlebars. Echo’s right hand was wrapped in an Ace bandage due to excessive swelling and two jammed knuckles.
Kiandra looked back at her Escalade, which was useful for its high-beam headlights right now, at 10:41 at night. She shook her head at the sight of the thick rope that lay stretched out from where they stood all the way to her SUV.
Echo said, “Wanna see what’s on the other side of the cliff?”
Arthur said “No. I’ve told you everything you wanted to know. Please take me back inside.”
“So, you know nothing about the Echelon Escort Service? Why the fuck did you claim your name was Dale Oates when I called? You’re hiding behind the name for a reason.”
“I always do that whenever I receive calls from a blocked number.”
“I hate to send your ass flying if I’m wrong.” Echo used his left hand to pick the end of the rope up from the ground. He gave it to Arthur. “Hold this.”
Arthur said, “What’s it for?”
“I’m about to send you on the ride of your life. The other end is tied to our truck. If you can hold on after I get your airborne then the cliff god was looking out for you, and you probably wasn’t lying to me.”
Kiandra said, “Wait. Let me make a call first to check on something he told us.”
Echo said, “You keep forgetting we can’t get a signal.”
“I’m going inside to use his landline. I’ll call Agent Ergan on his prepaid throwaway.” She hurried off, thinking she might save the life of a handicap.
Echo said to Arthur, “You think you can hold onto that rope?”
“No. I’m sure I won’t be able to hang on.”
“Well, in that case you’ll be responsible for your own death, not me. The cops gonna either think you committed suicide or was trying to get in the Guinness book for first cripple mountain climber. Cliff climber. Whatever.”
“Hey, I’ve been totally honest with you guys.” They talked for three minutes more.
Echo said, “I know you can’t fuck nothing while you’re paralyzed from the waist down, but do you get excited when you eat pussy or lick a woman’s ass?”
Arthur said, “Of course. I still have emotions. That sort of thing cheers me up.”
“When was the last time you licked on a woman?”
“Nearly a week ago.”
Echo said, “Good. Now give me her muthafuckin name and number. If she works for Echelon, I’mma -”
“Echo!” Kiandra was sprinting. “We gotta go!”
Echo watched her, wondering why she would use his name. “Cops here?”
She arrived slightly winded. “No. Brian wouldn’t answer, so I called Etcet. He’s stuck in a room with a 13-year-old girl. He thinks a couple of men working for the Echelon took Brian.”
“Took him where? What the fuck you saying?”
“Brian is missing, and two hotel men searched his truck. Etcet was checking the third floor while Brian went to the front desk.”
Echo looked out at the ocean, gritting his teeth. The crease between his eyebrows was not an accurate indication of how angry he was.
Kiandra said, “And Dale Oates is the person who sets up every Echelon appointment.”
That was it. Echo gripped the handlebars and began running toward the cliff with Arthur.
Arthur was pleading something, but the shaky, bumpy ride was distorting his words. He had a super grip on the thick rope then quickly wrapped it around his right wrist two and a half times.
Echo stopped eight feet from the drop and watched as Arthur and the wheelchair disappeared.
Arthur wasn’t hollering; that only happens in the movies. As he became separated from his wheelchair, fully airborne, he closed his eyes and brought the rope closer to his chest.
Kiandra saw the long rope speeding across the ground. The end of the rope shot past her, trying to catch up with Arthur. She smiled when she heard the wheelchair crash.
Echo began trotting back toward the Escalade. “How far is San Diego from here?”
She was keeping up with him. “A three-hour drive.”
“Fuck!” When he made it back to the Escalade, he got in the driver’s seat and said, “As soon as you get a signal, call and get Etcet on the phone again.”
Chapter 9
BRIAN WAS IN the hotel’s huge supply room. The area was neatly organized with shelves of clean linen and laundry toiletries; boxes stacked against a different wall, each containing flat-panel television sets; and ten white laundry carts near the boxes.
Brian was on the painted cement floor and in pain. As he lay on his belly, wrists and ankles tied together behind his back with a jump rope, one of the Echelon security guards stood near him. Brian had a black eye, a couple of knots on his head, several face bruises, and some sore ribs.
Eddie, the guard, pressed the side of Brian’s face to the floor with a boot. “I can promise you, when Mr. Madison arrives, you’ll wish you had talked to me. He don’t take kindly to strangers asking about Echelon.”
Brian wondered whether Etcetera had put two and two together. He closed his eyes when the man applied more pressure with his boot.
“Your ID says you’re Private Investigator Keith Ergan, but a few computer searches say your service don’t exist. Tell me who sent you and why, and I’ll let you go. You have my word on that.”
Brian said, with a twisted and half-opened mouth, “When Ryan Madison gets here, I’ll tell him my story. You wanna kill me right now, so I know I’m dead if I tell you about the rival escort service that sent me.”
Eddie removed his boot from Brian’s face and took a step back. “You’re forgetting one thing: My partner was really going to kill you until I stopped him and sent him back on floor patrol. You should have more faith in me.”
Brian rolled over on his side and said, “Your partner Hank just happens to be a stupid man. You knew you would score more points with your boss if you could get him some useful information. Besides, killing me would leave your boss pissed, with a lot of unanswered questions. Another rival spy could show up tomorrow and the next day. You can’t kill one a day forever, draws too much heat on the business.”
Eddie looked at his wristwatch. “His flight from San Francisco will be in soon. You better pray that you can score some points with him as well.”
Chapter 10
AFTER ETCETERRA had recorded Pete Garland’s full confession, he then forced the 60-year-old to post an online manifesto that revealed his pedophilia. This was done on the laptop found in Pete’s suitcase. Etceterra pushed Pete’s head with the top of the silenced gun. “You did good, Pete. Now, go to the bathroom and wait for me.”
The young girl was still sitting next to Etceterra on the bed, and they both watched Pete walk hesitantly to the bathroom.
&nb
sp; Etceterra said, “Close the door and turn the shower on.” When he heard the water running he said to Veranda, “Do you know that what Mr. Garland was doing to you was wrong?”
She nodded affirmatively.
“You said you’ve been here with two other men before. Do you know their names?”
“Yes, sir, but not their first names.”
“That’s not going to be good enough.” He got up and looked out the window again. Brian’s stolen Explorer was still there, more than two hours later. He walked back to the girl and squatted down in front of her. “Veranda, Mr. Garland has to be punished for what he did to you. You understand that?”
She nodded again.
“But I want you to make a decision here. Do you want me to kill him or do you want me to shoot him between his legs so that he can never do that to another child?”
She shrugged. “That other man said he would kill me and my mama if I didn’t follow the rules.”
“Listen, I got a couple of friends who will be here soon. My friends and I are going to put a stop to Mr. Madison for good. He won’t be able to hurt anybody for the rest of his life. You said your mama told you to follow all of his rules, but now you won’t have to. I suppose Mr. Madison pays your mom so that he can use you as a call girl. Is your mama on drugs?”
“A lot of drugs.”
“I figured that.” He looked toward the bathroom door. “So, do I kill Mr. Garland or shoot him where it hurts the most?”
The girl almost smiled. “Shoot him where it hurts.”
“Good answer. Wait right here.” Etceterra walked to the bathroom door and opened it.
Pete was leaning against the sink.
“Take your pants and underwear off. Right now!”
Pete began loosening his belt. “What are you going to do? I did everything you asked me to do.”
“Hurry up or take one in the left side of your chest.”
Several seconds later, Pete was naked from the waists down, except he still wore dress socks.