Angel of Death - Debt Collector 5 (A Jack Winchester Thriller)

by Jon Mills

  “No, I’m going to get a bite to eat. Do you know any good places around here?”

  She mentioned a few and gave directions but she must have seen by the look of confusion on his face that he probably wasn’t going to be able to find them.

  She hesitated for a moment. “Listen, my shift wraps up here in an hour. If you can hold off, I’ll show you if you like.”

  Jack frowned.

  She cocked her head to one side. “I usually pick up a takeaway from San Pablo’s.”

  “San Pablo’s?”

  “It’s Italian. They do some of the best pasta in Lima.”

  As Jack walked back to his table to wait, he turned back to her. “You eat Italian and yet you live in Peru?”

  “You eat Chinese and live in America, right?”

  “Point taken. By the way, what’s your name?”

  “Johanna.”

  She went back to helping customers until the end of her shift.

  Chapter Twelve

  Johanna’s shift ran a little longer than she said it would. There was an influx of tourists who looked as if they had been drinking for most of the day. They stumbled in and could barely keep themselves upright. One of them slurred out their orders while the others went over to the computers and started complaining about how they shouldn’t have to pay for the Internet. Fortunately, they took their drinks and left without causing any problems. Once the others were out, Jack waited outside as she pulled the shutters down and locked up for the evening.

  “You close early.”

  “We used to be open until nine every night but we found there were only a few people coming in. Most are out drinking the night away. A good portion of our business occurs during the day. I don’t mind, I get to knock off early and enjoy some of the evening.”

  She motioned in the direction they would be heading.

  “So how long have you been running the business?”

  “About seven years.”

  “You married?”

  She smiled a little. Jack assumed she must have thought he was coming on to her but he wasn’t.

  “Once but we were too young. It lasted all of two months.”

  “That’s longer than most.”

  She clutched her handbag in front of her and ambled along. There were moments when they just soaked in the sounds and sights of Peru, and times when she would ask him about where he came from. At no point did it ever feel like he needed to speak.

  “What about you? You have a lucky lady in your life?”

  He scoffed. “Did, would be the better word.”

  “Ah, did you hook up when you were young?”

  “No, actually we were incompatible, you might say.”

  “How so?”

  He cleared his throat and thought about it some more. Across the street a car caught his eye, three men inside were making comments about a group of women that were outside a nightclub. One of them glanced over, blew some smoke out his window and then patted his friend on the arm.

  “Let’s say we came from two different worlds.”

  “A man of mystery. I like that,” she replied, motioning to a street that cut down through the heart of the city. Down the side alleys it wasn’t very well lit and as they made their way down behind a line of stores, Jack noticed that they were being followed. The same car he had seen a few minutes earlier was crawling along and waiting at different intersections. The occupants glanced out and he kind of figured what was going through their minds. It was the same with any South American city that you visited. You had to have your wits about you.

  As they made it to the end of the alley and got closer to another main street, the red car pulled up and the occupants jumped out. All three of them looked like gangbangers. They were wearing white and black muscle shirts and had far too many cheap-looking chains hanging around the neck. One of them sported a black bandana that he slipped up over his face. It all occurred in a matter of seconds. They pulled out guns and pushed Jack and Johanna back into the alley. The barrel of a gun pressed against his chest. He knew they wouldn’t hesitate to use it. Killing people and getting away with it down here was a common occurrence.

  “Give me what you got.”

  “Miguel?” Johanna asked.

  The one with the bandana stepped back slightly.

  “Get the hell out of here before I tell papa.”

  He pulled the cloth down from his face and the other two reprimanded him.

  Her eyes widened. She tried to elbow her way through them but she didn’t get far. She was tossed back towards the floor. Jack went for his gun but was stopped when a barrel was placed against his head.

  “Don’t even fucking think about it, homie.”

  “Get on the ground,” another one of them said.

  The third one kicked the back of Jack’s knees bringing him down hard.

  “Get it off them, Miguel.”

  Hesitating for a moment and then stepping forward, Miguel snatched the purse from his sister and tossed it to the others. Then he began rooting through Jack’s pockets. That’s when he pulled out the Glock and held it up.

  “Nice.”

  After he found Jack’s wallet, they slowly retreated back towards the car.

  “You’re lucky,” the one man said. They had made it back to their car when Jack spoke.

  “You don’t want the watch?”

  They cast a glance over their shoulders and Jack pulled back the sleeve on his jacket.

  “It’s worth a good amount.”

  They must have thought he was out of his mind. By the way Johanna was looking at him, she must have been thinking the same. They strolled back and went to take it from Jack. At first they pulled, thinking it was a slip-on. When that didn’t work they tried undoing the back. All the while a gun was pointing at him. The man’s eyes shifted from Jack to the watch for just a few seconds, giving him time to do what he did next. With a swipe of his hand he knocked the gun away from him, yanked the guy down and put him into a headlock. The other two backed up and moved their pieces back and forth between Johanna and him.

  “Let him go.”

  “Give the girl back her bag.”

  They shook their heads. Jack twisted the guy’s neck to the side and he let out a cry. The one who appeared to be giving all the orders tossed the bag back.

  “And my wallet.”

  He looked hesitant to give that over. There was a fair amount of cash inside. A quick jerk of the guy’s head was enough to make him think twice. He fished around in his jacket and tossed it close to Jack. Jack took his gun back from the guy and released him. They kept their eyes fixed on Jack as they went back to their vehicle. Miguel looked as if he was going to get inside but they said something in Spanish to him and then drove off without him. He stood there for a minute watching his so-called friends disappear into the night before Johanna unleashed sisterly hell on him. She ran at him and began slapping him with both hands around the head calling him all manner of names in Spanish. Miguel looked equally pissed off. He shoved her away and raced off before Jack could intervene. Johanna picked up her bag and brushed it off before coming over.

  “Thank you but that was a foolish thing to do.”

  “You are welcome. You got your bag back, didn’t you?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’ll reap the consequences of this later.”

  She began heading off down the street. Jack caught up with her and took a hold of her wrist. He pulled her around.

  “What is it?”

  Her chin dropped before she looked down the street.

  “They are a street gang called the Piranhas. The one who did all the speaking is called Alvaro. He belongs to the gang. My brother Miguel got involved with them a few years back and has been running with them since. My father has tried to get him out but he’s all screwed up on drugs and can’t see anything wrong with it.”

  “Why doesn’t he help you in the business?”

  She snorted. “Believe me, I’ve tried. He would rath
er hold people up and make fast cash, smoke drugs and party the night away.”

  They kept on moving until they reached a series of restaurants. Johanna pointed out a few and said that she was going to skip having a bite to eat. She just wanted to get home and speak to her father.

  “I’ll walk with you.”

  “You’ve done enough for tonight.”

  “You say that as if it was wrong.”

  She stopped walking and turned back to him. “I don’t know where you come from but here life is different. I really wish you had just let them keep the bag and money. They will come for payment and it will be even worse next time.”

  She continued walking.

  “Where I come from we don’t just let people do whatever the hell they like.”

  Johanna didn’t reply and kept on walking. He contemplated catching up with her but she was obviously shaken up by the whole incident and didn’t want him around. As it stood he didn’t need the extra drama. He had to stay focused on the job. After keeping his distance and making sure she returned safely, he doubled back and picked up a few snacks from a local store before catching a cab back to his hotel.

  That evening he got in contact with Patrick by phone.

  “I need you to do something for me. Get back in touch with your contact. Tell him you will agree to send the hundred thousand but not before he shows another photo. Tell him to send it to you tomorrow at noon. If he does, the money will be transferred into his account by the end of the day.”

  “He won’t go for it. It’s already been over a week since I last spoke to him. Even then he said that he couldn’t risk taking any more photos because he thinks they are on to him.”

  “Trust me. Just send the message. I’ll handle it from there.”

  There was silence on the other end of the phone. “Jack, if he doesn’t know about my daughter, what then?”

  “First things first, Patrick, we’ll worry about the rest after. Have a good evening.”

  Jack hung up and went and got himself a drink of bourbon from the mini fridge. He sat back on his bed and let it burn his throat and ease his mind. As he sat there thinking about Johanna and what had occurred, he thought about Dana and Jason again and pondered the question Johanna had asked.

  There was no one in his life.

  He couldn’t afford to have his focus befuddled by a woman.

  Chapter Thirteen

  She had begun to wonder if she was losing her mind. Upon arriving in Chicago she’d booked into a hotel close to the airport and set about trying to get in contact with local law enforcement. She had little to no information on Jack’s whereabouts and the city was a big place for someone to hide.

  The first thing she did was check with the police database to see if they had brought him in, the next step would take longer. She was going to phone around to hotels and motels in the city until she found out which one he was staying in. By the way Bowman had put it, Jack left in a hurry. He knew she was on to him and that only made her resolve to catch him that much stronger.

  She wondered what he was up to right now. Who was he with? Had he recently harmed anyone? For so long those were the questions that went through her mind but now there was a new one. Who was he helping? No matter how she tried to shake the thought, she knew that the only reason she was breathing was because of Jack Winchester. She very well may have bled to death back in Louisiana if it wasn’t for him.

  It didn’t change things. He still had to pay for his crimes and she was going to be the one that brought him in. Jack Winchester would see his day in court and best of all, Simon Thorpe would eat his own words.

  Isabel spent the next two hours working her way through some of the large chain hotels. Those she couldn’t get through to, she e-mailed. Hopefully by the morning she would have an answer. She never asked, do you have a guest by the name of Jack Winchester? She would always say, I’m calling to speak to Jack Winchester. Making the assumption that she knew her guest had got her patched through to countless people in past investigations.

  Cooper said that he wouldn’t have gone under his main name but she didn’t think that was the case. When he was staying in Los Angeles and in Louisiana he went by his name. Whether it was stupidity or arrogance that he couldn’t get caught, she didn’t care. It would make her job easier and that was all that mattered.

  After losing count of the number of motels she called, she finally got a break.

  “Winchester? Hold on a minute, I think I recall having a guest by that name.”

  She heard the clerk place the phone down and tap a keyboard.

  “Yes, he was here a couple of days ago. He checked out.”

  “Anyone staying in the room now?”

  “No. We haven’t been very busy. Are you looking for a room?”

  “Did he say where he was going?”

  “Sorry, he didn’t.”

  Isabel paused for a few seconds.

  “Are you still there?” the clerk asked.

  “Yes. I would like to see his room.”

  “I can book you in.”

  She hung up, grabbed up her bag and headed out. It didn’t take her more than ten minutes to arrive at the dilapidated motel. She scoffed wondering if he thought he was being clever by booking into a shit hole. Did he really think the FBI wouldn’t check sleazy motels?

  When she entered a young guy had his feet up on the counter and he was smoking a joint. She pulled out her badge and he nearly swallowed it. He began coughing and put it out in an ashtray that he hid below the counter. He spun around on his chair and reached for a can of nasty-smelling air freshener and sprayed a thick layer in the air.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not here to bust you.”

  “Oh, you’re the lady I spoke to on the phone. Let me get the keys to the room.” He got up and went over to a cabinet on the wall. He swung the doors open and there were about twenty keys hanging on hooks. He grabbed one up and motioned for her to follow him.

  “So, did he do something wrong? I mean it wouldn’t be the first time we have had cops show up here. For instance, last week, we had Carlyn Roberts, some fancy trophy wife of a stock market billionaire, check in after shooting her ex-boyfriend. She was found in room six with needles in her arms. Two years ago we rented a room to the coastal serial killer. You know, the one who used to kill runners and dump their bodies in the ocean. Yeah, this place is starting to gain quite a reputation.”

  He spoke fast as if rushing to get his words out. She wanted to tell him to shut the hell up but decided to just nod and smile. She didn’t want to make waves and have some kid file a report with the bureau. It had been done before and right now she was meant to be taking vacation leave. It wouldn’t go down well if Thorpe found out she was working the case.

  The guy smelled of weed as he bent over at the waist and fumbled with the key. His fingers were yellow from having chain smoked and his clothes looked as though they hadn’t seen the inside of a washing machine in months.

  He popped open the door. “There we go.”

  Isabel took the key from him.

  “I’ll… uh… leave you to it,” he said before disappearing. She heard him run off down the corridor. No doubt, he was off to flush or hide his stock of personal narcotics. It always amused her how panicked people got when they saw that badge. When she was a rookie in the police academy she recalled her trainer telling her that no one ever sees you, all they see is the badge and uniform so don’t take offense if they don’t take too kindly to you. It’s the uniform not you.

  As the door clunked closed behind her, she gazed around and smelled the air as if trying to catch a scent of her prey. She stepped into the claustrophobic-sized bathroom and pulled on the string to turn the light on. Three dirty light bulbs above a mirror illuminated caked on grime. She glanced in the bathtub that had a dark rim around the lip, her eyes drifted to the garbage can under the sink. She pulled it out and emptied the contents onto the countertop. Inside was a used razor, a tissue that had a smal
l trace of blood on it and a screwed-up piece of paper. She unfolded it. It was a receipt for some Chinese restaurant nearby.

  She walked out into the main room and ran her hand along the counter. She saw a cockroach scuttle under the bed and she grimaced. What a shit hole. There should be laws against this. Forget restaurant health inspectors, they needed ones that kept a careful eye on an establishment like this. How on earth had he stayed in this place? And for how long?

  She really didn’t want to look under the bed but she had to. She got down on her hands and knees and gazed into the dark space below the mattress. The faint silhouette of a bug making a fast exit was enough for her to get back up. Besides, there was nothing else underneath. The carpet was stained and flowery. Nothing matched. The drapes, carpet and bed covers looked as though they had been purchased at some dollar store and slapped together by a blind man.

  She went over to the window and pushed back the curtains. Outside she had a clear shot of the entire parking lot. Light flooded the dark room and she was able to get a better look at the place. That’s when something caught her eye. On the dresser close to the TV was a leaflet. She scooped it up and took a look. It was advertising an event that had already taken place. High Times. Two names were on the leaflet and one address. The Eternal Movement and 420 Dispensary.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The next morning when Jack returned to the café, Johanna had a solemn look on her face. He waited behind three other tourists who were weighed down by heavy backpacks. They were yakking to each other about catching a train to a small town called Aguas Calientes and then hiking to the top of Machu Picchu. They were young, adventurous and sounded like just the type of people to be ripped off by some scam artist or left for dead in the middle of the jungle. It was hard not to be pessimistic about people when all he had seen was the dark underbelly of life. It had been a long time since he had met anyone he could trust.

  When they grabbed up their drinks and headed out into the sunshine, Johanna gave a half-smile.