by Kieran York
It was an easy bet that was where the big money was. The treasure search was a reason to keep a ship out on the water, beyond the U.S. boarder. International waters offered invaluable uses. The goons probably hadn’t expected to actually find a treasure. Lucky them. However, if one of them, Mickey, Dimitri, or Jurg, hadn’t stolen it, the pot of gold might have gone down with Simon.
Mickey had built a sex trade industry. Just like a candy factory, they offered variety. Mickey had probably learned the motto – go big or go home – when he was imprisoned. Now he was recruiter, owner of joints like Sheeran’s, brothel pimp, and guesses were, porn. If he was going back to the slammer, it wouldn’t be for a couple women working out of a motel. And Treasure Lust might be a great umbrella company. It may have covered it all.
Summer texted me that the busboy’s name was Mark Novak. Rach then texted me that Mark Novak had a long sheet of arrests. He was older than he looked. Twenty-two and had been in petty crime since he was fifteen. He was a criminal, but small scale. Perhaps until the present. The last time he was arrested on a warrant for missing a court date, police found explosives and a few weapons. Someone helped him make bail. Could be a group he was affiliated with, or it could have been Gary.
When Jill phoned me, she gave me her location. Johnny had returned to his family mansion midmorning. Must have been a productive night’s activities. He stayed at his summer home until midafternoon and then took a joyride to a private beach area. There he’d met several friends, and they were partying. Jill had eyes on him from an area above the beachline.
Since I wasn’t that far away, I decided to drive to the parking lot where she was surveilling the senator’s son. She said she could use the company.
“Hey,” she greeted me when I pulled up beside her. I sat in the passenger’s seat in her car. She handed me her binoculars. “He’s chasing some young blonde around the beach. He’s a sloppy drunk. And one day he’ll probably follow in his father’s footsteps and become a sloppy drunk senator in Washington, D.C.”
“Let’s hope that some of them stay sober long enough to get some sex trafficking legislation created.”
“You’re an attorney, don’t you get disappointed in the law?”
“I do.” I glanced across the beach. The beige sand and blue skies were lovely. Small stringing comma clouds were oceanside. On the shore was a clubhouse, and the booze was flowing, and the music was blaring. And the rich and glamorous were enjoying the fun and sun. “I get tired of the greed, and the nonsense. But I understand that world, because for a time, I was part of the world of acquiring. It was making my mark on the world. Acquisition of a huge home, a flashy car, and money in the bank.”
“And you changed. Rachel and I have our enforcement background, and she told me that the two of you were at odds. I’m law and order, just like Rachel. I probably wouldn’t have liked that you defended the slime balls.”
“I finally didn’t like myself for defending them. But the law states that everyone has a right to an attorney. I still believe in that part of the law. Justice. I believe in justice.”
Jill looked away. “I don’t know if I do anymore. Trev, I want to believe, but it’s difficult. Particularly being raised as an African American. I felt the injustice. I still do. Just now, whites walking by looked at me. What was a black woman doing alone in a car near a beach? It was something that I’ve always felt, and you can’t understand it because you haven’t experience it. Maybe when I was in uniform, at least they looked at me differently. They knew I was part of society. An approved part of society.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of going back to the force?”
“No. I gave you my word. I won’t leave in the middle of cases.”
“I promise you, we’ll do some good. And when you feel that you’re a part of cleaning up crime, you’ll feel you did some good.”
“Rachel said that, too. She said we can make a difference that is difficult for enforcers to make. I want to be in on that.” Her eyes flooded with tears.
“I want you to be in on that.” I blinked my eyes several times.
“Remember when you called me, and let me make that collar on the apprehended killer?”
“Yes. And I hoped you would one day be part of the Team.”
She gazed toward the party. The party-goers were happier than either of us. I was angry that she’d endured racism. And I was angry that it was a common occurrence for her.
Those moments seemed to shrivel away. Yet my anger was there to stay.
Chapter 13
The plan was hastily put together. When I arrived to stay over with Clarissa at Pages, she had mentioned a change in the arrangements. It would be easier for Rachel to work out of her own office aboard The Radclyffe. Since tomorrow would be Clarissa’s day off from the bookstore, she offered to have two of her employees stay overnight at Pages Book Shop. Then she accompanied me back to the yacht for the night. And she would spend the next day with Rachel, aboard The Radclyffe.
She was impressed by the yacht, the crew, and I cooked one of my most luscious meals. As we sat around the dining table, I realized how perfectly she fit in with the others. Instantaneous friendships. It was congenial.
I’d knocked myself out making one of my favorites. Chateaubriand con Vino Brado. Roasted to perfection with accompanying roasted veggies. I’d coupled it with pine nut encrusted scallops, and a raspberry and walnut salad. Dessert was crepes filled with fruits and a wonderful lemon cream topping them. We drank Mandy’s recipe of sunset cocktails.
Sensuous, was how Clarissa described it. My three partners traded glances, as they wondered about sleeping arrangements. After they’d retired to their staterooms, I led Clarissa up to the sky lounge. It was a magnificent night. Stars blazed as we talked about our attraction. And what we were feeling. I was pretty sure my emotions were genuine. There was trust, as well as understanding.
She said that her philosophy was once very strict about sharing love. Meaningful and monogamous. Now, her belief was much more generously liberal. She would willingly chance sharing love with me, knowing and accepting my dangerous job. She also would understand my inability to stay put. Her words, ‘stay put’ meant never wander. She’d been reading too many tabloid stories about detectives. I knew I could be faithful, because I was faithful to Lilia Franco. Before she dumped me.
Our first night sharing love on the ship was extraordinarily perfect. We were both at ease as we showered together, then crawled into my bed. In one another’s arms, I felt a superb emotional depth. It amazed us both. We’d become nocturnal souls wrapped together as lost lovers.
When we awoke, I felt that this marvelous encounter had transported me back to the newness of love. She was both enchantress, and also enamored first love. She possessed the restraint of a serious woman of letters, as well as the comedic expressions of a frisky, winsome best friend. There was a softness, a touch that could be counted on to fill one another’s life with tenderness. She was flirty, and simple. She was a renaissance woman, with a complexity I loved. The night was excitement, melded with tranquility.
Whatever was happening, I certainly knew better than to pledge everlasting fidelity. This amazing woman didn’t truly approve of my profession. She had an aversion to peril. And because of me, she had been menaced by criminals. Although we hadn’t shared years together, there seemed to be a built-in quality of devotion. It was there. If she ever did fall in love with me, I could be assured she would forever accept what I did for a living.
How did I feel about her? The emotion was so rare, that it was barely recognizable. In the midst of two homicide cases, personal sentiments were detrimental and dangerous. However, Clarissa perfectly blended passion with affection. I was way more than enamored. The word that sprung to mind was – potential. This feeling flooded my emotion with potential.
Morning came too quickly. As she slept, I crept out of bed. I kissed her cheek, and I smiled. I was nude under the robe I’d slid over my should
ers. After a quick shower, and dressing, I stuck my head in the office where Rachel was busily doing computer searches. She grinned. “Had a good night?”
“Excellent. Clarissa will be calling her work to give instructions for today. I’m just in the process of making a nice breakfast. Want to join us?”
“Jill and Summer took off early this morning on their cases. I’ll be getting some data for Jill. Jill wants any kind of a dirty background on Johnny that might have been hidden - been paid off, bought off. You know how that goes. I found a couple DUIs that were expunged. What else I can find, who knows. And I’ll also be checking some IP addresses on Treasure Lust.”
“I’m not going to mention anything we find on Johnny or Gary to Mona. Donald might have had something going on since he made use of his burner cell. If there wasn’t something happening, why wouldn’t he use his own phone?”
Dubious, Rachel asked, “And why would the calls all go to Gary Dodge?”
I sat on the corner of her desk. “Rach, I see the friendship between Donald and Johnny. Both slick, ambitious, polished up young men. But Gary is rough trade. I’m not seeing how he got into the mix. Both Donald and Johnny were probably impressed with braggart Gary’s non-existent war heroics. It’s a guy thing. But the reality was, his military career was less than valorous. He was a coward. Gritty. He ravished the weaker sex. There’s nothing courageous about the guy.”
“And Trev, that kind of record is often secreted. The women who devoted their time, their lives to honorable service, they become protective. I hate that deception. I understand some of it. Protecting the reputation of the military. And to be honest, I talked with a couple of women yesterday. They wouldn’t go on the record. They wouldn’t see him charged because they feared it would make a mark on their branch of the service.”
“And?” I questioned.
“They did corroborate the preliminary reports. They just wouldn’t go through with charging. Women get drugged, drunk. It’s just another oppressive way a guy has to dominate women.”
I sighed. “The battle of sexes. The oldest profession. Both are still going on. Different venues, but it’s there.” As I stepped away, I said, “Take care of Clarissa. If Mickey thought she might be on board our yacht, he’d make trouble. And tell Summer and Jill to be careful. The more we dig up, the more danger we’re in. Oh, by the way, did you find anything more about Treasure Lust?”
“Nothing.”
“I guess Mandy is doing her own search on it.” I chuckled. “She’s turned out to be an excellent P.I.”
“She still knows lots of people in the trade. Most of her era are no longer relevant.”
“I thought you were going to say no longer alive,” I quipped. “I was going to correct you.”
Rachel grinned. “No. Mandy is indestructible.”
“Mandy has stayed relevant,” I defended. “Many may not be, but she is.”
“She’s definitely a truly timeless goddesses.”
“Want to come to the galley for an omelet?” I invited.
“You and Clarissa can use together time. And I’ll be spending the rest of the day with your sweet woman.” She paused until I was in the hallway. I heard Rachel say, “I’ll guard her with my life.”
I playfully commented, “I’ll see that you get a merit badge.”
She thought that was far more hilarious than I thought it was. Clarissa was going to be hanging out with Rachel for the day. It would give the adorable bookseller a chance to see more about the lives of detectives. Maybe it would reassure her. Then again, it could frighten her completely out of my life forever.
Seated at the breakfast nook Clarissa was smiling at me over the coffee she’d poured for us. I plated the vegetable, sausage, and cheese omelets. When I put our breakfasts on the table, I leaned toward her cheek to kiss her.
I heard Pluma squawk, “Got a party goin’ on. Fuckin’ party, fuckin’ party…”
“That’s enough, Pluma.” I cautioned with a shrug in Clarissa’s direction. “I’m sorry, my adorable woman. That parrot is hopeless.”
“She called me a hussy earlier.” Clarissa said with a laugh so tender, it warmed my heart.
“When she cuts loose with her language the air turns blue.”
As if on command, the crazy parrot divulged, “Summer’s pissed. Summer’s pissed.”
I grinned at Clarissa. “Actually, Summer usually is upset. She’s the volatile member of the team. High-strung. But she’s a dynamo when she’s out on the street. Criminals give her plenty of room. She understands the dangers of looking as if she’s frightened. She seldom ever has looked afraid.”
“I haven’t had time to get to know her very well. But she’s always seemed very nice to me. Rachel said she can be moody.”
“Very moody.” I smiled. “Her temper bubbles up to the top quickly. And I know you’ve had a chance to evaluate Rach, and Jill. From my perspective, Rachel’s got an easy-going personality. Efficient and pure ex-cop. Jill is sort of quiet and also has that staunch demeanor she acquired at the police academy. But when we party, they all act fairly normal. In fact, we should plan a yacht party soon.”
“And how do you characterize yourself?”
“I’m loveable. At times. I’m an expert markswoman. My firearm has had time to develop a lovely bluing. And I don’t like to lose.”
“Mandy mentioned that the Team is very heroic.”
“Mandy and the Team are mutual fans of one another.” I glanced at the clock. “Time for me to strap on my holster and ride on out of here.”
“Be careful,” Clarissa admonished. “I worry about you. And remember, I like my woman all in one piece.”
“Am I your woman?” I coyly questioned.
“It feels that way.”
It did feel that way, I explored the thought. Mornings were designed for delight.
But right now, there were just too many killers that wanted to see me dead. They wanted to murder me. Or perhaps wish I were dead.
Pluma squealed, “Creampuff pussy.”
Clarissa and I laughed. I apologized a second time. “I’m truly sorry. I told you a gangster had Pluma for years before he went to the slammer and gave her to me. He claimed he was incarcerated because I didn’t properly represent him. He knew I couldn’t spring him because he was so guilty that no defense attorney had a chance. I had saved him from being pitched into the electric chair. He must have still had it in for me because he requested that I take his pet bird, Pluma. I would much rather he do like other unsatisfied clients. Just give me the bird. Not a parrot. Pluma was his retribution.” I leaned near Pluma’s cage. “And Pluma, kindly put your animosity away. We are a Team of high class women.”
I loved the sound of Clarissa’s laughter. Lovely chime-like chuckles. I knew she would tell her friends at the book shop about Pluma. If detective work ever dried up, I could take the comedic Pluma on the road. She had a curse word for every occasion. I was convinced no one could out-swear Pluma.
Once I arrived at the Homicide Department’s conference room, I realized Chief Tom Powers probably would have liked to cuss me out. I was only five minutes late for our appointment.
He was on edge about something. “What’s wrong, Tom?” I queried.
“What’s right?” He chomped on the end of his Bic pen. “What are you checking on Mark Novak about?”
“He was wanted on a warrant run. You got the name and where he worked from Rachel. We located his employer for you. What’s your problem?”
“By the time we got there, he was gone.”
“You didn’t know where he was before we told you. And you snooze, you lose. Just keep track of his pal, Gary Dodge. Novak might show up.”
“Gary Dodge was a close friend of Donald Ogden. You’re still chasing that murder? I don’t get it.”
“I think Gary might have something to do with Donald ’s death.”
He grumpily guffawed. “We’re not even investigating that crime any longer. It was a random burglar
y gone sideways.”
“Tom, what if it was a spree killer? If it wasn’t one of the pals, or the wife, it could have been a multiple killing. So why aren’t you looking for the guy?”
“Look, Trevar, I’ve got a drive-by shooter we’re chasing. We can take him down. He’s ID'd, and we’re on the way to the Prosecutor’s Office. The D.A. will put the shooter away for life. Case closed. We’ve got crime all over the county. It’s chaos. I’m not chasing some phantom killer. Nobody he knew killed Donald Ogden. Some junkie murdered a stranger, and then ran away leaving no clues. Washed off in the ocean. No trace evidence at all left behind. You think I’m sending the entire forensic lab out to examine the ocean? For god sakes,” his rant was becoming louder. “I can’t manufacture evidence. The cases are circling the drains.”
“Tom, I realize both Ogden and Wagoner were not highly sympathetic victims. And the probable perps might have had a reason to kill off a con man and a possible thief. But why are you taking it out on me?”
“The drive-by killed a kid.” His eyes watered. The tough cop mask he usually wore became one of sorrow. “An eight-year old kid named Barack after Obama.”
“And you’re chasing the killer?”
“We’re throwing everything at this case. The two investigations you’re playing with are stalled.”
I reached and touched his arm. “I’m sorry. You’ll catch the kid’s killer, Tom.” There were times when I didn’t appreciate the Chief as much as I should have. Admittedly, I wanted all the crime investigated. Some took priority.
“It’s a hot case.” Before I could walk way, he motioned me back. “Mona Ross called earlier to say she wanted to know if our treating the case as cold now meant we were done. When I said that was right. She told me she’s paying out your contract, and so won’t need your service any longer. She claims you got no leads on the case.”