Trevar's Team 3

by Kieran York

  The middle of a small diner in West Palm should be safe enough, I thought, as I drove across town. Having time to spare, I stopped by Pages Book Shop to visit Clarissa Lamb. She looked as stunning as usual. It must have been breaktime because she ushered me up to her mini-loft apartment. “I’m glad you decided to pay me a visit. I’ve got to talk with you.”

  Although I felt relaxed, as we traded smiles, I realized Clarissa wasn’t tranquil. I wondered why she was seemingly detached when I’d entered. I disliked my vulnerability when I trusted someone. That was from once trusting more completely than I’d ever thought I might. And I was bamboozled. Seated across from this lovely woman, with her eyes packed to the brim with believability and kindness, frightened me.

  What really terrified me was when she stated, “Two men were in the bookstore asking about you?”

  “About me!” My back tightened as I leaned toward her. “They asked about me?”

  “Yes, well not really you. They asked if I knew your brother. I answered only that I wasn’t aware you had a brother. Then when they said twin brother, I put two and two together. They were talking about Boyd. I said I had no knowledge about it.”

  “When were they here?”

  “Just a few minutes ago. They left right before you got here. I was going to call, but a customer was insistent about seeing the self-help books. I hoped she was going to look up a book on patience.”

  Pulling out my phone, I immediately dialed Mandy’s apartment. After explaining that Simon’s probable murderers had made my cousin and me, I insisted that Boyd needed to be kept undercover. I hung up and vigorously rubbed my forehead.

  “Clarissa, I’m sorry. Dang, this is not good. It means that one of the men from the treasure ship must have seen the four of us at Darlin’ Lucy. I was being surveilled.” I felt a shiver going down my back. “They spotted us together. They made Boyd. Then they took a look at me and our resemblance to one another. You and I are probably easier to locate than Boyd. It means we all need to be careful.”

  “It means they know I lied to them.” Pausing, she shook her head. “Beryl, I’m not good at this intrigue business. My book shop is an exact reflection of me. I’m an open book. Now I’m frightened for you, for me, and everyone around us.”

  “Apologies, I’m not in a lady-like profession. Clarissa, I know you’re not about to make room for a detective in your life. In your romantic life.”

  “Beryl, I’m sorry. Tawdry strong arms paying a call on me, isn’t what I want in my life. This isn’t a life I’ve chosen.” She hesitated. “Or would have chosen.”

  My eyes were grim. My words quivered as I said, “I understand you’re not wanting to be involved. I’ll see that you’re safe. I’m going to contact either Jill or Summer to see which of them can come directly over here. I’ll see that you won’t be left alone.” I texted both women and Jill texted back she was on her way.

  “We really are in danger?”

  “As you know, these guys think that my cousin took the treasure. They are after him. They mean to get to him, through me, and now you. So yes, we are in danger.”

  “This terrifies me.” Her face was ashen. Her lips trembled. Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I’m so sorry. I’m not the brave type.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry about, Clarissa. I never would have endangered you.” My words were chosen deliberately. “Please don’t worry, Jill is on her way, and she’s packing.”

  Although Clarissa gave a fleeting smile, she said, “It’s so incongruous that there is going to be a weapon in Pages. A bookstore is a sacred place.”

  “I am so sorry.” I got up from the table, and as I passed by her, she stood right into my arms. She tenderly kissed the side of my lips. I continued to feel the warmth from her after Jill arrived, and after I was on my way to meet Gary Dodge. I’d set it up as being a friend of Donald, and just needed to talk.

  The neighborhood diner was well-kept, and half empty, making it quite enough to hear every single grating word uttered by Dodge. I was somewhat certain any lies he was handing me were emphasized. He made it clear that he was a heroic man. He’d lost friends in the war, and now was very sorry about the passing of his pal, Donald Ogden. I was immediately reassured that he had not been in touch with Johnny Groversen.

  Dodge was a smug, sketchy, despotic crackpot. His light hair; and his cheeks were stubbled. His blue eyes were blinking, shifting with mock bravado. His features were rough, and his body was rock hard. He held himself with a military stance. The kind to impress people. He was one of those people attempting to constantly impress. I wasn’t quite sure if the bull he tried unloading was believed by him, and he expected it be believed of him. Lathering it on way too thickly, he barely breathed between sentences.

  Finally, somewhere between when our orders arrived; and the server poured me a second cup of coffee, I’d decided it was time. I’d heard Gary’s point of view, and also learned a bit about both Johnny, and Donald. I was impressed that Johnny – aka Mr. Washington, hadn’t contacted him. But Johnny was probably taught the political way. Non-confrontational. And ditch anyone not in your sphere. Let it all go away quietly.

  “Gary, I’m actually investigating Donald ’s death. I wanted to also chat with you about him, to get an idea of what his friends might be thinking. Do you think your mutual friend, Johnny Groversen, might be in any way involved?”

  Startled, Gary shifted the weight of his body around until the chair offered comfort. He still looked uncomfortable. “Why would you think that?”

  “I’d heard they had a conflict a few weeks ago.”

  “Naw, I doubt it.”

  “And you and Donald were pals. I am also certain of that because you talked with him so often.”

  “What?” His stare was fastened tightly to mine. “We only got together once in a while. I can’t tell you the last time I talked with Donald.”

  “I can tell you. I can pull up the information about numbers called from the burner phone Donald had. “Your last conversations were a day before he was murdered, and a few hours before he was savagely knifed to death.”

  “Yeah, I guess I forgot. I did chat with him.” Gary pushed the silverware around on his plate.

  “Difficult to believe you didn’t recall the last time you spoke with him.”

  “I’ve got a memory problem.” He was becoming agitated.

  “Do you know who murdered him?” Watching his expressions, I caught a glimmer of deep anger. “Well?”

  “Hey, how the hell would I know. Military service taught me all about protecting people. Not killing Americans.”

  “Protecting innocent women from rape?” My question startled him.

  “What are you insinuating?”

  “I think it would behoove you to work with me. I know about your dishonorable discharge. Come on, Gary, drop the hero bullshit. I want you to tell me everything you might know about this homicide. Johnny now knows about your big-shot hero lie. And we both know he wouldn’t have killed Donald. He hasn’t got the fortitude to kill.”

  “How did he find out?” Gary’s fists smacked the tabletop. “You told him?”

  “Relax. It was going to come out eventually. Washington is a hotbed of rumors. If a senator’s son is being interviewed by police, it’s not a leap to believe all of Donald’s friends are being scrutinized. Now, talk with me about anyone you know interested in killing Donald.”

  “His wife. She wanted him dead. But she wouldn’t have killed him.”

  “She hired someone?”

  “Naw, she’s all mouth. It must have been a druggie, a nutcase. Someone just saw him and unleashed on him.”

  “It was someone wanting him chopped up. That’s not how a random killing goes down. Random assault is usually a knife wound or two. This is a slaying of emotional payback.”

  “Look, I saw what drugs make people do. I know damn well that someone high – drug crazed, would do that.”

  “Maybe. And that’s a big maybe. The po
lice will be calling you. I just got the jump on them because my detective agency found the burner phone first. Well, the police investigators have it by now. You need to hone your story about why you and Donald were in contact. And why he used a burner phone.” I stood, tossed down money on the table. “I vouch for the police. And Homicide Chief Tom Powers isn’t a stupid man. He wouldn’t believe much of what you just said. Especially since he is a genuine military hero. And you are no such thing.”

  Walking to my Mercedes, I considered what to do next.

  I drove straight to the Blue Sea Bar, wondering if I could shake something up. Two slick jerks had decided to create a war on me, my cousin, and Clarissa Lamb, so they would need to be dealt with. Rachel sent photos of Mickey Coleman, Jurg Laski, and Dimitri Zhenya, to Clarissa. She was certain that the two men were Mickey and Dimitri. So, that meant the creeps were looking for me. I made it my mission to let them find me.

  Entering the Blue Sea was always like wading through a gutter. A gutter in a sewer. Ax Mendoza was at the door probably propped up pretending to be the bouncer. Scare tactic. “Hey, Ax,” I got his attention. “I need to know where Mickey and Dimitri are.”

  “You doin’ your probation office, or social worker scam. I know who you are. Don’t try none of your crap with me.”

  “Sorry for the ruse, Ax. Now that we’re friends…”

  “You ain’t my friend,” he interrupted abruptly.

  I leaned near. “I’m trying to catch the men responsible for killing your pal, Simon. Simon was your friend. That puts us on the same side. Help me locate Mickey and Dimitri.”

  “Mickey and Dimitri are way over your head. They’ll toss you in their whorehouse and have you used up in no time at all.”

  “Mickey is still in the prostitution, trafficking game?”

  “He never left the lady gamin’ trade.” Ax gazed down. His face tightened. “You better scat. Stay outta their way, gal.”

  “I want you to tell me where Mickey, Dimitri, and as a matter of fact, Jurg, might be. I don’t want to go out to their ship. The Sea Fortune is way too dangerous.”

  “Jurg is usually always on the ship. Mickey, too. Dimitri is runnin’ the house. They switch off the running of things. Mickey won’t venture too near where they stash the women. He’s already been sent up for that crime.”

  “Where are the women they’re trafficking? They’ve got to warehouse them somewhere?”

  “I got no idea where it is. I can tell you Dimitri was in here an hour ago. He might be visiting a lady at Sheeran’s Club.”

  “Thanks, Ax,” I murmured. “If you see either of them again, will you call me?” I handed him my card.

  “It’s your funeral,” his raspy voice said. As if he might be tossing me a pre-funeral treat, he added, “He’s driving an old black Ford.”

  “Thanks.” I drove immediately to Sheeran’s Club. Dimitri’s ride was parked in back of the shabby club. I waited, with my car out of sight.

  When Dimitri stumbled out of the bar, I hit the accelerator and my tires squealed when I pulled my car next to him, as he was turning. I’d pinned him against his car. His expression was shock and terror. His wiry, muscled frame shook for a moment.

  From my slightly opened driver’s side window, I said, “Dimitri Zhenya!”

  “What the fuck you doin’, driving like you crazy?” he screamed as my window lowered and he stared into the barrel my Barretta. “You trying to kill me?” His English was with a strong suggestion of a Russian dialect.

  Glaring, I enunciated, “You listen to me. You warn Mickey, Jurg, and whoever else crosses my path, not to. No more bookstore visits. You don’t involve innocent people. You got a problem with me, contact me. Got it?”

  He tried to move. Sucking in air to squeeze some room, he said, “You a crazy detective bitch. You just try to kill me.”

  “Can’t blame a girl for trying. You and your scumbag partners stay away from anyone I’m connected with. I don’t know why you want the surviving diver. I can tell you, he knows nothing about Simon’s death. Nothing with the exception of his excuse - which is that Simon was still on the ship when he escaped. If Boyd wouldn’t have fled, he would have been another body on the beach. Boyd didn’t kill Simon. You and your treasure hunting pals are the perpetrators.”

  “You protecting you brother. He got him something that belong to us.” Rage replaced fear. “When I kill you, you gonna be hurt bad.”

  Carefully, I watched Dimitri’s face becoming redder. As if it was an anger blooming across his wide face. His ruddy cheeks were almost scarlet. I shouted my message, “He’s got nothing that belongs to you. You killed his dive buddy. You pinned a murder on him. And you know damn well either Simon hid the treasure, or he didn’t have it and was being set up. No matter which way the truth tumbles, Boyd didn’t have anything to do with it. You’d best steer clear of me and everyone I care about. Because next time I steer toward you, I’ll be less precise about not mashing you against what is on the other side of my vehicle.”

  I threw it into reverse. I hoped I’d take Dimitri’s recently serviced male member on a fender ride. In the rearview mirror, I saw that he looked intact, but he would long recall the crazy detective bitch that nearly provided him with a free vasectomy.

  Years ago, when I first became a lawyer, I learned that every time a lawyer, or a detective, opens their mouth, they’d better make a statement. I’d made a memorable statement to Dimitri. That meant he would either want to keep out of my way, or to take revenge. When I reached Pages Book Shop, I spotted Jill talking with Clarissa. After I’d finished telling them about my encounter with Dimitri, we all chuckled. But fear remained, I could see it in Clarissa’s eyes.

  I joked, “I wanted to be memorable.”

  “He’s going to want to kill you.” Clarissa suddenly bolted to the storeroom/office. I followed after her.

  “Clarissa, I’ve got to stand up to thugs. We’re going to be watching after you until those men are in prison.”

  Her eyes were pleading, “Beryl, I think the world of you, but please understand, I don’t want to play dangerous games. And those men will eventually be out of prison.” Her eyes were clouding up.

  I inhaled deeply. “I’m so sorry. I don’t blame you for being concerned. These three men are dangerous.”

  Realizing that I hadn’t even shared the fact that I may have also kicked a hornet’s nest in the Donald Ogden murder case. Whoever the killer might be, if it was one of Donald ’s friends, that person might now want me dead. Gary definitely knew I was on his trail. I was all kinds of a target.

  She touched my shoulder tenderly. “Beryl, I know this ‘shoot-em-up’ life is your career. But I don’t want it in my life. I should have realized that the reason I own a bookstore is because I like tranquility. I always have.”

  “I’ll ask Jill if she would pick up some dinner for us. Then I’ll relieve her for the night. In the morning I’ll assign either Jill or Summer to guard you.”

  Jill, Clarissa, and I ate a takeaway dinner from a grilled fish stand. Then Jill left. After Clarissa closed up the shop, we went up to her loft, and I slept just outside of the bedroom on a little cot she’d drug out of the closet. We had kept the chat friendly, and away from talk of the terror of chasing and being chased. We talked food, TV programs, books, and about her love of cats. That had spurred the confession that I had a parrot. Pluma would not like my adding a cat to the yacht.

  Although Clarissa closed the small sliding door, I could hear her breathing. I wanted to hold her and protect her. I wanted to say everything would be fine, and she would be safe. But I’d seen too much, and I had no right to drag a sweet, kind, intelligent, decent woman into my shadowy world of evil and crime. My area of expertise. Where I lived.

  Chapter 9

  Our schedules had changed. I was staying over with Clarissa in her loft. In place of a morning meeting, Rachel handed out assignments to Jill and Summer. She then called me, while I was still at Pages. The cot
I slept on was not the most desirable and comfortable bed that I’d ever experienced. Although, I’d set up a couple of the Team’s alarm systems around the store, I’d only had light, minimal sleep throughout the night.

  Rachel’s phone call began with dissention. “Beryl, I sent Jill back to relieve you. Summer immediately balked about getting the worst assignment. She considered shadowing Gary Dodge a miserable task. Do you want to switch them back around?”

  I grumbled when the morning began this way. “What’s wrong with them? We haven’t got time for this. Jill is on her way. If I have a chance, I’ll talk with her. Guard team rotation. I didn’t get much sleep and my mood is not great.”

  “I hate to bring this news so early. I don’t have a clue what’s wrong with Summer’s attitude. Where’s Clarissa?”

  “She’s showering.” I glared across the room. “Look, Rachel, I want them to abide by your decision.”

  She laughed. “So, I’m going to be mean office mom?”

  “It has to do with the right person for the right assignment. You call the plays.”

  Rachel defended, “I just considered Summer’s youth, her legs might be fresher to keep up with Gary. Summer is faster than I am. She’s ten years younger than Jill, so maybe a little faster off the mark.”

  “Rach, tell Summer it was my call. In your defense, Jill is also acquainted with Clarissa and the employees, as well as the dynamics of guarding her. No one was slighting Summer.”

  “She knows that,” Rachel replied.

  “Look, Rachel, they are going to have to get their act together. I’m seriously unhappy about it. We need teamwork. I’ll talk with them again.”

  “You know Summer will turn in her resignation.” Rachel remarked, “She always does when she doesn’t get her way.”