The Harvesters

by William J Manning

  Munroe rests her arms on the table. “If you care about your children, you will help us right now.”

  She still sits there with her shoulder slumped. “I want my attorney.” Her voice monotone.

  I slam my hand on the table. “Don’t you get it? If you’re charged with this, CPS takes custody of your children? Your husband obviously didn’t give two shits about his kids, but I’m hoping you’re different.”

  She glances off to the side, chewing on her lower lip. “No, you can’t do that. That’s not fair.”

  “Your husband had people snatched off the street so he could cut them open and sell their organs on the black market. You better give me something or so help me, I will charge you as an accessory to your husband’s crimes plus destroying evidence.”

  “Agent Lobos, I can’t sell my husband down the river like that.”

  “Mrs. Merryweather,” Munroe says. “You’re going down either way for destroying evidence, and because this case is federal, you’re looking at a twenty-year sentence. At worst, your husband will get lethal injection at best, life without parole. Your children will be put in foster care.”

  I lean forward on the table. “Does your children have anyone they can live with?”

  Tears pour out of her eyes as she sobs. “Their Uncle Norman and Aunt Marla. They live here in Miami.”

  Munroe crosses her legs. “I will make you a deal, it will not get you out of prison, but it will keep your children in the family.”

  “What’s the deal?”

  “You tell us where your husband may run too, and I will talk to CPS about keeping your children in the family.”

  “But I don’t know where he is, Agent Munroe!” she cries.

  “It’s time to stop covering for him, Mrs. Merryweather,” I say. “It’s time you do what’s best for your children. Tell us where he is.”

  She rubs her wrist and fidgets with her fingers and digging at the skin on the tops of her fingers. “I don’t know where he is. Please don’t put my kids in foster care.”

  This bitch. Munroe offers her a lifeline for her kids, and she’s still lying to us.

  “We can get a warrant to run your phone records in the past two hours,” Munroe says.

  “This is your last chance to tell us the truth. If we run your phone records and it turns out you lied to us, full custody of your children will be given to CPS. You’ll be charged with obstruction of a federal investigation along with aiding and abetting.”

  She stares at us like a deer frozen in the headlights.

  Agent Munroe rises from the chair. “Okay, Lobos. Let’s run her records.”

  “Wait! I will tell you where he is.”

  Munroe sits back down. “I’m listening.”

  “Will CPS send my kids to live with their aunt?”

  “Tell me what I want to know, and we’ll go from there.”

  She sighs and stares at the table. “We used to go on vacations out in the Everglades. He wanted a break from the city.”

  I cross my arms. “I don’t care about the why I want to know the where.”

  “Everglades City.”

  Munroe shrugs. “Address?”

  “Eight fifteen Oyster Bar Lane. It’s a small one-story house just behind the Gulf Coast Visitor’s Center.”

  “Lobos, send out some Deputies to that address to pick him up.”

  “You got it.”

  “Okay, you got your information. Now help my kids.”

  I stand up. “First, we’re going to see if your bull shitting us. If everything’s legit, then we’ll see about getting custody to their aunt.” I leave the interrogation room and flip open my cell. “Collier County Sheriff's Department.”

  “This is Special Agent Devora Lobos. I need you to send a unit out to pick up a suspect at Eight Fifteen Oyster Bar LN.”

  “Oh, Lobos. Are there any suspects in our deputy’s murder?”

  “Not yet, but Detective Sanz with Miami Homicide Bureau will have more answers regarding Roth’s case.”

  He sighs. “Okay. Roth was well-loved in this town. Her death won’t be forgotten anytime soon.”

  “I’m sure. She was a damn fine cop.”

  “Anyway… I’ll send those units out and get back to ya.” His voice on the verge of breaking.

  “Thanks, Deputy.”

  “No problem.” He hangs up.

  Munroe steps out of the interview room. “For a minute there, I thought she was going to throw her children to the system to keep her husband from going to prison.”

  “So did I. I mean, it was fucked up; it took her this long to understand the gravity of the situation.”

  “We’re waiting on the sheriff’s Department to get back to us. So in the meantime, you wanna see if the witness is available to talk?”

  “Yep, it will be nice to make a dent in this case,” she says.

  I just hope Radomir didn’t kill Merryweather yet. His days are numbered, and he knows it. Chaos will sweep through his organization like a virus.

  Chapter 23

  Jackson Memorial hospital

  I flash my badge to the uniform guarding the room. He nods and opens the door to let us in. The witness has bandages on his face and one across his face. “Hey, my warrior princesses are here, and I gotta say you two are easy on the eyes.”

  Munroe manages a half chuckle. “Just doing my job, sir.”

  I roll my eyes. Being nearly cut up and sold off for parts does strange things to the mind. That being said, he’s very fuckable. But I got more important matters at hand than satisfying my sexual itch.

  “Ugh! Don’t call me sir, ladies. It makes me feel old. I’m only thirty-three.”

  Munroe smiles at him. “What would you like us to call you?”

  “Axel, but my ring name is Axe. Axel the Axe Murdock.”

  I write his name down and furrow my brow. “You’re a boxer?”

  “MMA. I’m an instructor in Mixed Martial Arts, and I compete in tournaments. You know, if you’re interested, I can get you, two ladies, into a class. I give discounts to Law Enforcement and Military.”

  Munroe smiles. “Thank you, Axe. But I’m afraid I must decline this job keeps me going twenty-four seven.”

  “I already have an MMA membership back in Tampa.”

  “Hey, as long as they’re teaching proper MMA, it’s okay with the Axe.”

  He is quite the cocky asshole, but he has a bit of a charm about him, the same way a comedian does.

  “Okay, Axe. Are you ready to tell us what happened?”

  “Yeah, sorry to waste your time with small talk.”

  Munroe nods. “No, it’s alright. You survived a terrible experience; it’s okay to be a bit off. But if we’re going to get the people who done this to you, we have to get right to business.”

  He nods. “Ask away, ladies.”

  “First, start off with what lead to the event of you being kidnapped.”

  He sighs and glances out the window. “I was on a dating site. I met this beautiful ginger chick. She was into MMA like me, and we both were into weight lifting. We talked off and on for a week before we took a chance and meet up for dinner at the Greek seafood joint over on Key Biscayne called Greek cuisine and wine.”

  These Harvesters are patient and methodical. Nothing is rushed.

  “Then what happened,” I ask.

  “I show up at the joint, and she’s not there. I figured, well, shit, maybe she’s just stuck in traffic or something. An hour goes by, so I was like, WTF let me call her.” he briefly looks down. “Here’s where shit started getting sketchy as fuck. Her number had been disconnected.”

  “Her number being disconnected was when red flags went up?” Munroe says.

  “Yeah. I got a bad vibe and got the hell out of there, I didn’t even pay for my wine. Wait, you guys can’t take me to jail for that, right?”

  I shrug. “Uh, just call the place and pay them for the bottle.”

  “You dined and dashed, then what happe
ned?”

  “I was heading to my car, and then out my peripheral, I saw this guy coming at me with a syringe. So out of reflex, I slammed my fist into his nose. He drops like a ton of bricks. He gets back up and tries to come at me with the needle again. I put him in a joint lock, breaking his wrist and stomping on the needle, shattering it. I bounce his head on the hood of my car, knocking him out cold.”

  “Then what happened?” I ask.

  “That’s when these three other guys blindsided me. I knock one of them on their ass. The other I kicked in the gut. After that someone whacked me over the head, and everything went black.”

  “Did you see any of their faces?”

  “Nah. They were wearing masks.”

  “Did you make out any of their voices?”

  “Only thing I could make out was they were all men.”

  “So you didn’t hear any accents?”

  “They sounded Eastern European, you know, like those typical Russian Bond villains.”

  “What time did this occur?”

  “It was roughly about eight pm yesterday.”

  “Can you give us the address of that place?” I ask.

  “I don’t remember the address. I’d have to look it up again, but I don’t have my cell.”

  “That’s okay. Google saves lives.”

  “Do you have the woman’s actual name you were supposed to meet?”

  “Sure, do, Agent Lobos. But it’s probably a fake.”

  “Give it to me anyway, along with the name of the dating site you used.”

  “Sure. Her name was Darcy Hennigar. The name of the site was Eternal love dot org.”

  That’s one site the Harvesters are using.

  “Thanks. Did Darcy ever say the name of the gym she goes to?”

  “Yeah, it was an MMA gym called UFC Academy over on the South Beach area. Sorry, I lost my phone, or I would bring up a picture for you to show to them.”

  “It’s okay, Axe. We can run her through our system and see if anything comes up,” I say.

  “You two do me a favor. When you find that bitch, you tell her she owes me for that damn bottle of red.”

  I laugh. “Okay, we will sure let her know.”

  Munroe hands him her card. “If you think of anything else you can tell us, call me.”

  He beams a flirty grin at her. “I think I will call you later.”

  Munroe gives him a flirty grin. “Only if it’s pertaining to the case, please.”

  He frowns. “Okay, party pooper.”

  As we leave the hospital, I glance at Munroe and smirk. “I saw that up there.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, please, you wanted to jump on that guy so bad.”

  “It’s called being nice.”

  “Yeah… okay.”

  She groans. “Get in the car.”

  I laugh at her and climb into the passenger side.

  ***

  Munroe opens her laptop and checks the FBI database for a Darcy Hennigar. “The only Darcy Hennigars I’m getting are people too old and none that live in the Miami area.”

  “Yeah, I got nothing either on the dating site. It’s like her profile was deleted. It’s just as I figured it’s a fake name.”

  “Damn it,” Munroe exclaims.

  My cell rings. “Go ahead, Deputy.”

  “We picked up your suspect, and we got him here in holding.”

  “That’s great. We’re heading there right now.”

  “Don’t worry. He’ll keep till ya get here, Agent Lobos.”

  “I want him well guarded because he has ties to the Russian Mob.”

  “We got it under control, Lobos. This is not our first high-profile suspect.”

  I hang up the phone and glance at Munroe. “Collier County Sheriff Department has Doctor Merryweather in holding.”

  She shoves the car into gear. “Let’s go see what he can tell us.”

  “Hopefully, we’ll be able to incriminate Radomir with the Harvesters with Merryweather’s knowledge.”

  “Let’s just hope Radomir doesn’t kill him before we get there.”

  “I’m willing to bet money Radomir already knows about our raid on one of his warehouses.”

  “That asshole heard about it already, trust me. He probably heard about it as it was happening.”

  “All the more reason to get to Merryweather as ASAP.”

  My phone pings with a text.

  The paralytic used on the victims is known as Entorphine. The drug is hard to get, so we can wager he used his status as a doctor to obtain it. The victim’s name was Annie Anton. She was lured to her death from one of the LGBTQ sites The Harvesters are using. The victim went missing six hours prior to her death.

  Thanks.

  “The ME got back to us and said the drug Doctor Merryweather used on the victim was Entorphine. The drug is hard to get unless you’re a licensed surgeon.”

  “Who was the victim?”

  “Annie Anton, Harvesters lured her to her death from one of the LGBTQ dating apps the Harvesters are fishing on.”

  “Christ. How long ago did she go missing?”

  “Medical Examiner said six hours ago,” I say.

  “Harvesters barely take any downtime, it seems.”

  “On the bright side, the drug is not something that can easily be purchased on the street.” She adds.

  I let out a sigh. “Yeah, there’s the frown upside down, I guess.”

  “You know, Lobos. You should stay as a Fed; it suits you. I’m sure Tanner will welcome you back with open arms.”

  “No thanks. After this case is over, I’m gone.”

  “I guess you have your reasons for not wanting to return to being a G-woman.”

  I stare at the wetlands passing by a lone car as we travel down the two-lane road. “Yeah.”

  “Any reasons you wanna talk about?”

  I glance at her. “Just drive the car, Munroe.”

  “Okay, I’ll take that as a big no.”

  “Yeah, that’s a big no.”

  ***

  We step into the sheriff’s trailer, and the Deputy stands up. “Come on in, G-women.”

  I nod toward the cells. “Go grab the doctor.”

  “Just a second.”

  “Excuse me?” Munroe’s voice becoming annoyed.

  “What’s the problem?” I say.

  He rests his hands on his gun belt. “Roth had a nice peaceful life here, and then you come along dredging up an old case, and she ends up dead.” His jaw tensed, and his eyes become red with tears. “Goddamn it! Why can’t you feds leave shit well enough alone?”

  “Deputy Perkins, I lost a brother in blue once, and trust me, I know how it feels. I know the pain is eating you up on the inside. I just hope you find better coping mechanisms than I did.”

  Another Deputy gives him a box of tissues. “Can you tell me at least who did this?”

  “Deputy, we can’t discuss the case,” Munroe interjects.

  His eyes flare with anger. “Don’t you pull that Federal horseshit with me; she’s my partner, I deserve to know!”

  I briefly scowl at Munroe. “We believe the shooters worked for Radomir’s people. Detective Sanz is working Roth’s murder.” I hand him the Detective’s card. “He can give you more info on the progress of the case than I can.”

  He takes the card and gestures it at us. “Thanks. Let me go get your man.” He leaves the room.

  “Lobos, you really shouldn’t be sharing info on our case.”

  “Munroe, there’s a time to be an agency robot, and there’s a time to be human. This was a time to be a human being.”

  She sighs. “Fair enough. No harm in him knowing who killed Roth, I guess.”

  “Exactly. So chill on the protocol shit.”

  The door opens, and Doctor Merryweather comes out with his hands cuffed behind his back. “Hello, Mr. Merryweather. You miss me?”

  “It’s Doctor!”

  I grab him by the forearm and walk
him to the door. “Yeah, you gave up that title when you started killing innocent people and selling their organs off like parts to a fucking car. The DA is going to eat you alive.”

  “Wha-what about my wife and kids?”

  I open the back door, and he sits down. “What do you care?” I slam the door and sit in the passenger seat.

  “Please tell me, are my wife and kids okay.”

  “Your kids are fine. Your wife, not so much.”

  “Wha-what do you mean?”

  “Your wife tried to destroy the video of you cutting people up, so she’s going to be charged with obstruction of a federal investigation and evidence tampering. I’d say she’s probably looking at twenty years minimum. So sit back and just enjoy your last bit of free air.”

  “What happens to me?”

  “You?” I scoff. “You’ll be lucky if you don’t get the death penalty.”

  “What if I give you the other doctors involved?”

  I glance over my shoulder. “What else can you give us?”

  “I got records of doing business with not just Radomir, but local politicians as well.”

  “You mean the mayor?”

  “Not just the mayor, Agent Lobos. Even people high up in the Miami Police Department.”

  Munroe briefly looks in the rearview mirror. “You give us names, and we will try to keep the death penalty off the table. It’s the best you can hope for.”

  “Not much of a deal, Special Agent Munroe.”

  I light up a smoke and crack the window. “Look, asshole. You got busted red-handed, cutting people up. Life in prison is your best-case scenario.”

  “At least with Life in prison, you will still get to see your wife and kids,” Munroe says.

  He sighs. “I doubt she will want to see me again after what I put her and our children through.”

  I take a drag off my smoke. “I’m curious why a successful MD like you would turn into such a fucking ghoul.”

  He glances at Munroe and me. “Have you ever had to tell a child’s parents their kid is going to die because they didn’t make the lottery for an organ transplant? To stand there listening to them scream and cry and curse you and call you a monster?”