My Sister's Detective

by T. J. Jones

  "Enough of your God damn nonsense and your vulgarity. If you can't show up for dinner sober, then at least sit here and pretend to have some respect for this family and yourself. As I remember Eric spent half his damn life chasing after you and you never gave him the time of day. If he and Maggie have something now, it's none of your damn business."

  "Jesus, I was just teasing them. You don't get to lecture me about men, you're the last person I'd listen to about that. That's why Daddy is always gone, and it's why he is the way he is. He's never home because he needs to feel something real and he sure as hell can't find that here."

  "He won't find it with her either." Rita returned. "There's always the next tramp willing to screw him, but he always moves on, doesn't he? I know all about the whore he has down in Lauderdale."

  "You know what Mom? I met her. Maria is a warm, loving, happy person. She makes him happy. Can you say that? Even if it doesn't last, maybe he deserves to be happy for a little while."

  "I don't care what makes him happy. There's been too much crap over the years. He's too arrogant and twisted for me to ever care what makes him happy. Besides, our relationship is none of your business!"

  "Really? It really is Mom, it started being my business a long time ago."

  "What the hell does that mean?"

  Angela had tears running down her cheeks and she paused, staring at her mother for a moment. "Who pays for everything? It's my money that keeps this house going, it's my money that pays for the Lauderdale house. If I hadn't married Charlie we'd be living on the street."

  "Fine, I'll divorce your father, sell the house and go live in a condo. I wasn't hungry anyway." Rita slammed her chair back and went to her bedroom on the east end of the big house. The room echoed when she shut the door.

  Angela sat there for a few moments then got up and walked to the steps. As she climbed to her room, she looked down at us and smiled. "I need a drink."

  I didn't say anything as Maggie picked at her food. She pointed at my plate. "Eat. Rosa worked hard on this, somebody has to eat it."

  "Should I go home, or stay the night?"

  "You can stay, it'll be fine. By tomorrow they'll be back to normal. Angie will be sober and Mom will shut down again. I'd like to lock them both in a rubber room somewhere and let them just fight it out."

  "Are you going to walk the road in the morning? I'll come with you if you want. I can be late for work."

  "Walk? My leg is good to go, I'll leave you in the dust."

  ***

  I woke up early in Frank's bed, surprised to find Angela sitting on the edge of it with two cups of coffee. I slid up against the headboard and rubbed my eyes.

  She smiled her lovely smile. "Some bodyguard you are, Slater. I was banging around the kitchen for half an hour and you were still sawing logs when I came in."

  "It's early." I grumbled taking the cup she handed me. I glanced at the bedroom door, it was open all the way.

  Angela snickered. "Times have changed, right? Not too long ago you would have preferred that door was locked. But we wouldn't want Maggie to get the wrong impression."

  I shook my head and waited for her to say something more.

  "I wanted to apologize for that scene last night. I shouldn't have said those things to my Mom. My Dad and her just never had what you're supposed to have in a marriage. Not that I'm an expert, but there never was any passion. He's like me, up and down all the time. I think she decided that if she just ignored it and never reacted they could make it work."

  "She shouldn't have to be what he wants."

  "That's what Charlie always said. Funny, nobody understood us, but I really did love him, and I miss him, so much. I'm sorry I act so crazy sometimes, but I really miss Charlie, and Davey too." She teared up when she said his name.

  "I know how close you and Davey were."

  She smiled sadly and looked into her coffee cup. "Nobody really knows how close we were, not truly."

  She was so broken. I put a hand on hers and spoke softly. "Yeah Angie, I think I do. I know he was your brother."

  She lifted that beautiful face and stared into my eyes. "How?"

  "Despite what you may have heard, I'm not bad at this detective thing. Blood type. I knew Davey's from an old medical alert bracelet, and when Maggie got clipped by that bullet fragment in the plane, she talked about hers."

  "You told her?"

  "No, I think you need to do that. If you don't I will, but it would be better coming from you." I tried to make my question sound casual. "Your Dad, he has a girlfriend?"

  "Yeah, really young, but that's what he likes, right? She's Latino, Colombian I think, and she has a four-year old boy."

  "Maria, pretty name."

  "Yeah, Maria Lopez, I think. I never really met her. I lied to Mom just to make her mad, but I did talk to her on the phone a couple times. Daddy wants to bring her up here so I can meet her, but that would be too weird, even for this family. I think he might really care for this one."

  "Kind of late in life to find the right person, but better late than never."

  "I could say that about you, Eric." There was a sound from the kitchen and I leaned forward. Maggie was pouring herself coffee and glanced in our direction. Angela laughed at her expression. "Don't worry Maggie, I'm not in here molesting your boyfriend."

  "Not my boyfriend." She said loudly.

  Angela giggled and looked back at me. "You better get working on that Slater."

  I nodded. "Yeah, that's what everybody keeps telling me."

  ***

  I was ready to go when Maggie came down dressed in her running gear. She gave me a small smile but didn't say anything right away. She started at a slow trot and gradually worked up to half speed.

  "I'm still a little weak Slater, sorry if you don't like the pace."

  "Suits me, another week and I won't be able to keep up with you."

  "Not if you get out here every morning at seven like we talked about. But you're going to have to drive over from now on. After what I saw this morning, I'm throwing you out of the house."

  "Good timing, I was leaving anyway."

  "I know, I was kidding. Don't get a big head, but for just a second when I saw you two this morning, I might have been a little jealous, just a teensy bit."

  "That shouldn't make me happy, but it does. Just a teensy bit."

  She ran quietly for a bit, looking thoughtful. "I think my parents are going to get a divorce."

  "Probably for the best, right?"

  "Probably. Dad's coming home Sunday night so they can talk. I think he's ready to just get it over with."

  "Is he bringing his girlfriend?"

  "No, I don't think so. Why the hell would he do that?"

  "Just asking, Angela said he wanted you and her to meet this girl. I thought he might bring her along."

  "Not that I know of, that would be too weird."

  "Yeah, that's what Angela said too. Weird."

  ***

  Maria Lopez was one of the remaining names on the list. I was well aware that it was a common name in the Latin culture and a quick Google search told me that there were over four thousand just in the Miami-Fort Lauderdale area. It seemed unlikely that Frank would be involved with one of his victims. But then, I still didn't know that he was involved in any of it for sure. I had to go back to Lauderdale, and I had to do it soon. If Frank was coming north on Sunday, I would be going south. I would beat a confession out of Gary Jeffries if I had to.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I ran with Maggie Sunday morning and we chatted about her father's impending arrival. It had Angie tied in knots so I knew Maggie would stick around to help her through it. He was flying up and his plane was due in at nine o'clock in the evening. With traffic and boarding that meant he would leave the house no later than seven, possibly six thirty. If I left my house at one in the afternoon, I could be driving down his street by seven or seven thirty in the evening. With luck, his girlfriend and her son would have taken him
to the airport, and Gary would be in the guest house alone.

  There were a lot of things that could go wrong with my plan, but I had to try. I was sure that if Gary hadn't killed Davey, he had to know who did. Considering just things I knew he had done, without throwing in murder, I didn't plan to go easy on him for old time's sake. With Frank and his girlfriend out of the way I would have time to sweat a confession out of Gary.

  There was still a piece missing in the puzzle, someone pulling strings that none of us could see. Gary, and possibly Frank might have been involved in kidnapping young girls and selling them, but someone with a lot of money was buying them. Whoever that was, might be the person that had killed Davey, with or without the help of Diablo Blanco. If he was willing to kill young girls just for looking at him, he would certainly try to kill me if our paths crossed. People like that didn't do their own killing, they hired professionals, men that were good with a gun. That didn't matter to me. I had been to the range and I was ready.

  ***

  When I got to Lauderdale, I stopped at a Seven Eleven and bought a package of hot dogs, the really disgusting cheesy kind. Dogs love them. I really didn't want to tell Maggie that I had shot her Dad's dog on top of all the other explaining I might be doing. Hopefully if I ended up nose to nose with the pouch, he would eat the hotdogs and not me.

  It's surprising how oblivious most people are to the things that go on around them. In the absence of security lighting and motion sensors, people in a house with the lights on are blind to what's going on outside once the sun goes down. If there's no moon you can tromp all over their yard and they'll remain unaware while they keep their eyes glued to their latest guilty pleasure on the screen of their preference. I expected the big house might have motion sensors but I was hoping the guesthouse didn't have any outside lighting.

  There were several lights on in the main house which didn't strike me as being a good thing. If Frank had taken a taxi to the airport, that meant that his girlfriend was at home alone with the child. That might not matter to me if Gary was down in the guest house. I shimmied under the bushes again and crawled all the way down the hill, hugging the dark corner of the privacy fence until I was even with the window of the small guest cottage. It was pitch black, just some reflection from the water in the channel a few yards away.

  The window had a cheap white curtain drawn across the opening but it was sheer enough to see through from outside. I didn't want to get too close to the window so I used my binoculars. The light gathering capability works regardless of your location and by moving around I was able to get an idea of what was going on inside. It didn't make sense to me, so I decided to risk a look from a different angle. It took several minutes to relocate to the other side of the cabin. I had to go up the hill toward the main house and crawl along the edge of the deck. None of the lights were on in that part of the house and if there was security lighting, it wasn't sensitive enough to pick up my motion. I made a mental note to be sure Maggie's house had a better system.

  From my new location I could see more of the room. The curtains on that side were open and I had to stay well back or risk being spotted, but I had a better view of the room. It was definitely Gary Jeffries. Without his hat and sunglasses there was no doubt. It was him, just older, and with less hair. Andy Gleason sat across the table from him and there was gun lying on the table in front of him. From the other perspective I had thought they were just sitting at the table having a conversation, but from my new angle I could see that Gary never moved his hands from the back of the chair. I watched them for several minutes until I was sure. Gary was tied up, that was the only explanation. Yet it looked like they were carrying on a conversation. Andy even smiled and laughed a couple of times. That didn't make a lot of sense.

  You don't have to be a detective to know that if you bother tying someone up, you probably don't plan to shoot them. No need for ropes if someone is dead. Much as Gary Jeffries second passing would please me, I needed to find out what he knew about Davey's death. I watched for a few more minutes and the scene never changed. Andy sat there chatting to Gary like they were old friends. Like they were waiting for something. When it occurred to me what that might be, I scurried up the hill as fast as I could. I finally had realized what Andy was waiting for.

  The north side of the house backed up to another privacy fence, just a few feet from the building. I ducked under a couple of unlit windows and made my way to the frontside of the house. The overhead light was on in the main part of the house and from a small window in the laundry area I could see a small portion of the living room.

  The first thing I saw was a pair of Nikes, shoes much too big to belong to a child, protruding from beyond the doorsill. Two other sets of legs dangled from a chair directly in front of the shoes, children's feet. I had to think it was the little boy I had seen before and a babysitter, probably the same little blond girl. One of the feet was bouncing nervously, so at least they were still alive. Undoubtedly, they had been spared as hostages should the shooter need them. They were all waiting for Maria Lopez to come home from the airport.

  The German Shepard mix was stretched out on the kitchen tile with a small puddle of blood pooled beside his head. Damn! No more Mister nice guy, the bastard had killed the dog. I pulled back and sent a text, then hunkered down to wait. I really hoped Maria would stop for groceries, go dancing, cheat on Frank, anything, just not come straight home. I needed twenty minutes.

  What I got was fifteen. When I heard the garage door start to open, I moved along the sidewall and waited until the vehicle was almost inside. Maria was driving the big SUV I'd seen at the docks, an Escalade or a Suburban, and I ducked around the corner quickly and followed it in. Fortunately, it was a big garage. Even more fortunate was the fact that she had stopped for groceries. She opened the rear side door and reached in for the bag as I walked silently up behind her. When she stood up I reached around and clamped one hand over her mouth and put my other one on her throat. She reacted as I expected and as she should, by struggling and trying to bite me. Silence was my goal and I increased the pressure on her throat until she stopped fighting and was close to passing out, then I whispered in her ear.

  "There's a man inside that has your child and the babysitter. He was sent here to kill you, and he will kill them too. I'm here to help. If you scream, they are dead for sure. Do you understand me?"

  She nodded and I let her go. She turned to me wide eyed and whispered. "Is it the man who killed Sam?"

  "No, he's dead. I shot him and I'm going to shoot this asshole too. I need you to open the door and say something, "Hi kids", whatever you want, just be casual. Push the door all the way open and then jump back out of the way. If it doesn't go right, you get my gun and start shooting, because he'll never let any of you out of here alive anyway. Alright?"

  "Si, I will do my best."

  "Give me just a second." I said quietly. There was a small bucket near the door and I used it to unplug the opener, plunging the garage into darkness. I wasn't about to give the shooter a silhouette. He would be expecting a helpless young woman with a bag of groceries, and he would probably start shooting when she walked through the door. A pro would have a back-up plan, and I had to be ready for that.

  Plans, his, mine, they never work out quite like they're supposed to. She did a good job, threw the door open and called out something about having popcorn, then lunged to the side. I expected a hail of bullets, but that's not what happened. The gunman stepped out into the room and started to lift his gun as I took the one step up into the entry. With his free arm he held the babysitter in front of his body for a shield. I could see the surprise, his momentary indecision; shoot me or use the kid for a hostage to get the woman? I had just a split second to look into that young girl's frightened eyes and make my choice.

  I had told Maggie that I was a natural at two things, flying and shooting. I'm a pretty damn good pilot, lots of hours and the plane becomes are part of you. But as instinctual as flying is
for me, as naturally gifted as I am at that, I am much, much better with a gun in my hand. Point and shoot. I can do it fast, and I can do it well.

  The girl was struggling a little and the assassin wasn't able to get her up high enough to shield himself completely. As he started to swing his gun in my direction, I put a shot four inches over the top of the girl's head, somewhere between the gunman's nose and left cheek. There was no need to wonder if he was dead, I knew. It threw him back into the living room and I stepped aside as Maria Lopez rushed past me to gather up the two kids. I flipped the light switch off and walked over to her.

  "This isn't over, there's another one down in the guest house. Lock the door and call the cops. And throw a damn blanket over that poor dog."

  ***

  I couldn't be sure that Gleason had heard the shot. If he had he would think it was his accomplice, completing his work. My backup hadn't arrived, and I was beginning to wish I hadn't sent that text. I walked down the hill with my gun in my hand, throwing caution to the wind.

  When I got close to the cabin, Gleason stepped into the dim light from the window. "Everything taken care of?" He asked it casually, as if a woman and two children's lives meant nothing to him.

  I stepped into the light with my Glock pointed at his face. "Not quite, just give me any kind of reason to finish it up." He had the gun I had seen on the table in his hand and I could see he was thinking about trying to use it. "You have two seconds." He tossed the gun before I had finished the sentence. "Now your phone."

  I followed him into the room and pointed to the hardwood. "I'm going to talk to your friend here for a minute. Get down on your face and spread eagle in the middle of the floor where I can see you." He obliged slowly while Gary Jeffries looked on calmly. I positioned myself where I could see them both, then warned him again. "Move one time and I'm going to shoot you right in that fat ass of yours, no second chances. Got it?" He moaned something that I took as a yes.