“Are we good?” Jalal asked.
“We’re going to Kansas City, Missouri.”
Jalal’s caterpillar eyebrows drew together. “Where?”
“Center of the United States. Famous for their barbecued meats.”
“You’re coming?”
Alim patted him on the shoulder. “This is too important to leave any details to chance. We fly into Mexico. I have contacts who will get us over the border…well, under the border, but from there a small plane to Kansas City. I have activated several contacts from the region. They will pick us up.”
Jalal cast a long, appraising look with his dark eyes. “Why so many? Do you not trust me, Alim?”
“I trust you above all others, my friend. But, too much rests on getting Ares.”
Jalal bit the inside of his cheek, unconvinced. Alim grasped the man by the back of the neck, drawing him close.
“Trust me,” Alim continued. “We’re going to change the world.”
* * *
By mid-afternoon, Alexander Voleski couldn’t sit in the basement apartment any longer. The girl went out for food and cigarettes two hours ago and hadn’t returned. He tried her cell phone and heard it ring in the next room. He stomped to the living room to see the phone lying on the coffee table, daylight from the horizontal transom window shining on it like a spotlight.
“Dumb bitch,” Voleski muttered. He rooted through the ashtray trying to find a smokable cigarette butt but found nothing. He slammed through the kitchen drawers and turned out coat pockets in the closet but came up empty for any source of nicotine. Back in the living room, he stepped on a chair by the window, peering out. Voleski had a good view of red pumps, black wingtips and hairy toes springing from flip-flops as pedestrians strolled the sidewalk. Beyond an overflowing trashcan by the curb blazed a neon sign for EZ Mart. Through the window of the EZ Mart, bottles of liquor and overhead racks of cigarettes lined the wall. They may as well have had a halo around them.
Every one of his synapses screamed to stay put and not even think of smelling the outside air until he received the call for the meeting. There was no telling how many people looked for him and the more valued contents of the briefcase. Voleski wouldn’t have dreamed of pulling off a job like this a year ago, but he was tired of being a bottom feeder. He was tired of seeing the rich get richer while he did the hard work, the literal dirty work of digging graves and burying bodies. This deal may end up costing him his life, but the payoff was worth the risk.
Even with a payoff looming, the pressure of being found was too much. His body craved nicotine and alcohol. Both were mere feet away. He paced back to the bedroom and picked up the silver briefcase, thought for a moment, and slid it under the bed. He would be gone only for a minute and didn’t want to attract attention. Grabbing his wallet, he slipped out the front door of the apartment, up eight steps to the door leading to the street. The door creaked open, and he peered up and down the sidewalk. Seeing nothing, he dodged a couple cars and entered the EZ Mart.
A young, Hispanic guy with thick, black hair and a white t-shirt sat on a stool behind the counter, a bored hand thumbing through a magazine. He offered Voleski a quick glance as he entered the store. Voleski went to the back, selecting a bottle of the most expensive vodka they had. The clerk added two packs of cigarettes, and Voleski paid and left the store.
* * *
Jake waited in an interrogation room in the Kansas City Police Department, resting his forearms on a scarred table. Bright, fluorescent lights blasted overhead, and the twelve-by-twelve room smelled of bleach. Two empty chairs on the other side of the table. A mirrored observation window centered in the dirty, beige wall. Were Ogio and his partner watching him?
Trespassing. That’s what they said they were going to book him for. They searched him, cuffed him, and loaded him into the back of the sedan. The two detectives didn’t speak a word on the ride to the station, nor did they say anything when they uncuffed him in the interrogation room. The cops offered him nothing, not even a phone call. Jesus, what would Maggie say? So much for his promise to stay out of trouble.
After an hour, the door opened. A man in a deep blue suit with a sky-blue tie marched in and lowered himself into a chair opposite Jake. He was a lick over six feet tall and soft around the middle, his silver hair slicked back with too much gel, his manicured fingers drumming on the tabletop. He said nothing, obviously waiting for Jake to make the first statement, the time-tested police tactic. Get them talking early and often. What the man across the table didn’t know was Jake was a man of infinite patience. He could sit there all day without uttering a peep. He counted seconds in his head. Jake bet the man would last three minutes before he spoke.
Two minutes later, the guy shifted in his seat. He must be in a hurry. “Mr. Caldwell, you’re in deep trouble.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Police Chief Andrew Ware.” His voice deep and gravelly. A smoker.
The tension in Jake’s shoulders melted, and he breathed easy for the first time in the last couple of hours. He wasn’t going to spend a single minute staring at the walls of a jail cell. If they sent the Police Chief himself, they wanted something. If they were going to bust his balls, they would’ve sent Ogio and his partner into good cop bad cop him for a few hours. Try to wear him down. The fact they went right to the top of the food chain spoke volumes.
“Things must be slow around here,” Jake said.
“On the contrary. They are quite busy.”
“So busy the Police Chief himself comes to speak to a trespassing subject?”
Ware spread his manicured hands wide. “That surprises you?”
“Shouldn’t it?” Jake asked. “When’s the last time you stepped into an interrogation room?”
“What were you doing in Mr. Logan’s office after we sealed it off?”
“Looking for something.”
“And you didn’t find it the first time you bypassed the sealed crime scene?”
“Who said I did?” Jake asked.
“Witnesses.”
“I feel like a goddamn broken record. Who?”
Ware wore his smug demeanor like a blanket. “Witnesses.”
“Look, Chief Ware,” Jake said, leaning forward, “I’ve known Jack Logan for years. I don’t know if you harbor any grudges against him or any guilt for the bullshit charges that got him drummed off your police force…”
“Who said they were bullshit?”
“I do. I’ve seen the criminal element, as I’m sure you’re aware and that ain’t Jack Logan. Why don’t you tell me whatever it is you came in here to tell me? I’ll apologize for breaking into your crime scene and promise never to do it again, and we can all go along our merry way.”
Ware drummed his fingers on the tabletop again, lips pressed together and a thick, blue vein throbbing in his temple. This interview was far from the way he anticipated it would go. Jake raised his eyebrows and waited for Ware’s response. The finger drumming was annoying yet rhythmic, and Jake counted off the sets of finger taps. He guessed ten. He overshot by one. Ware kept selling himself short.
“I’m going to give you a choice, Mr. Caldwell. I want you to drop your search for Alexander Voleski.”
“Who?”
Ware’s thin lips drew tight against his oversized teeth, and he all but growled. “Don’t play games with me, son. I know you and Logan were looking for him. I want you to stop.”
“That’s not a choice. That’s an order, and last I checked I don’t work for you,” Jake said.
Ware thumped his closed fist on the table. “If you don’t drop your search for Alexander Voleski, I’ll personally make sure you spend a very long time in prison.”
“That’s a shitty choice.”
“I didn’t say you’d like it. But it is a choice.”
“Criminal trespass is a Class B misdemeanor in Missouri,” Jake said. “Five hundred dollar fine. You must have something else you plan to hold over my head.”
“Maybe we do.”
Jake chewed the inside of his cheek, studying Ware. They expected him to fold under the pressure. If he relented, even if it was just verbally, he’d be no closer to finding out the truth and even further from his goal of finding the guys that kicked Logan’s ass, because he’d have to get sneaky about it or risk the wrath of Ware. He wasn’t afraid of Ware in the least, but the man could make Jake’s life difficult if he got on his bad side.
“If you want me to back off Voleski, you have to tell me why.”
Ware leaned back in the chair. “Actually, I don’t.”
“You’re just asking me to give up a nice paycheck for finding Voleski out of the goodness of my heart.”
“Beats spending money on a criminal defense attorney,” Ware said, a sneer raising his lip. “Or unnecessary hospital bills.”
Jake narrowed his eyes. There was the threat—jail and an ass kicking. But why the full court press to force Jake to go away? Ware knew they searched for Voleski, but how? Maybe Bear talked to the wrong guys about Logan and the case, and it worked its way up the bureaucratic ladder. Possible, but doubtful. Bear only talked to those he trusted. Maybe Logan himself tapped into some resources to find Voleski, maybe an informant. Informants would tell anyone anything for the right amount of money. Since a police force was only as effective as the information they could get off the street, it was a definite possibility. In any case, it was obvious Ware was going to be of no help and Jake couldn’t do anything sitting in the interrogation room.
“I don’t give a damn about Voleski,” Jake said at last. “I want the guys who put Logan in the hospital.”
“If you take matters into your own hands, I guarantee you’ll rot in the inside of my jail cells. It won’t be a misdemeanor offense.”
“Tell me why and I’ll leave Voleski alone.”
The muscles of Ware’s clenched jaw worked overtime. “All I can tell you is Alexander Voleski is working with us on a sensitive matter with a very short timeline. He was not responsible for your friend Logan getting thrashed.”
Ware lied. If Voleski worked for them, he wouldn’t be in the wind. He wouldn’t be running around free because he’d killed the unknown blue-suited guy in the apartment. However, it would do Jake no good to argue with Ware. The easiest course of action would be to return the lie and get out of the police station.
“Okay,” Jake said, adding a tinge of exasperation to make Ware feel like he’d finally worn Jake down.
“Okay what?”
“I’ll stop chasing Voleski.”
“Just like that?”
“Beats seeing the inside of a jail cell. I’m sure you could have drummed some bullshit up. Seemed to have worked with Logan.”
Ware pushed back his chair. “I’m glad you see it my way.”
“Doesn’t mean I see it your way. I need a ride back to my truck.”
“We had it brought here. Detective Ogio will make sure you get the keys along with your personal effects.”
Ware extended his hand, cold and weak. Jake resisted the urge to crush it, to grind the bones together until he cried. Ware exited the room, and seconds later Ogio handed him a plastic bag with his things.
“Where’s my gun?” Jake asked.
“Outside,” Ogio replied.
Jake followed Ogio through the tiled hallways and down a set of stairs with an unpleasant musty smell. The sun dipped below the horizon as Jake stepped out the front doors of the police station, Ogio at his back to make sure he left. Once Jake’s feet hit the concrete, Ogio handed Jake his Glock and disappeared inside without a word.
Jake swung by Truman on his way home and spent thirty minutes by Logan’s bed. He was still unconscious and, according to the nurse, showed no responsive signs. She assured Jake it was nothing serious. The tests showed normal brain activity, and his friend could wake up any day now. Jake patted Logan on the arm and told him he’d return tomorrow.
On the way home, his brain raced, the events of the last two days jumbling together in a foggy cloud. There was something elementary he was missing, and he couldn’t put his finger on it. He stopped at a Chinese take-out and picked up some lo mein and fried meat dumplings. He kept an eye on the rearview mirror as he drove home but didn’t spot the two guys who tailed him earlier.
In the lot at his apartment complex, he noticed a familiar red Honda parked out front. He took the stairs two at a time and unlocked his door.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked.
Maggie rose from the couch wearing one of his white button-down dress shirts. The streetlight shined through the window behind her—she had nothing on underneath. She slinked over with exaggerated swings of her hips, the outline of her swaying breasts taking his breath away. She kissed him, long and hard, pressing her body against his in all the right places. “I hope you have enough food for two. I’m starving.”
Jake set the bag on the counter. “We can eat later.”
Chapter Twelve
“Jesus, I needed that,” Jake said, chest slick with sweat. Maggie’s lithe, glistening body wrapped around his naked frame like a snake. They lay on top of the comforter, in too much a hurry to bother getting between the sheets.
“Hard day?” Her head nuzzled his chest, and he inhaled the lilac scent of her hair. She traced her fingernails on his hard stomach toward his nether region.
“Take it easy. You go any lower and we’ll never get to the lo mein.”
She straddled him, rubbing back and forth, silky, soft and slow. She kissed him, sucking his bottom lip.
“The beautiful thing about Chinese,” she said, “it heats up really easily.”
“It’s not the only thing,” he replied.
Thirty minutes later, they did make it under the covers and took turns with the chopsticks spooning in mouthfuls of greasy, delicious lo mein noodles. Maggie’s long, blonde hair was a mess, but she was gorgeous.
“I’m glad you came,” Jake said. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you. You’re all buff and delicious.”
Jake set the empty carton of noodles on the nightstand and broke into a grin. “You want to go for another trip around the bases?”
She kissed him and rested her head on his chest. “I think I’ll stick with the standup double for now.”
“You skip work?” Jake asked.
“Took the day off. Morgan’s covering my shift.”
“Where’s Halle?” Jake asked. In his passion for Maggie, he’d forgotten to ask the whereabouts of their teenage daughter alone in Warsaw.
“Staying with Bear and Audrey. Bear insisted he needed someone to keep their daughter busy tonight so he could prep for his court appearance. They’ll take her to school tomorrow.”
“He worried?”
Maggie sat up on the bed, hugging a pillow. “About the trial? No. About you? Yes.”
Jake propped himself on an elbow facing her. “What did he tell you?”
“Nothing much. The big jerk. Just said your new employer Logan got beat up. What are you two into?”
“Nothing. He’s worried about Logan. He just wanted to see him. Make sure he’s all right.”
“Is he?”
“Hope so.” Jake shrugged. “With Logan out of commission for a while, it’s back to square one for me. Gotta find something to do.”
Her eyes blazed, and she jabbed a finger in his chest. “Don’t bullshit me, Jake. I know exactly what you’re going to do. You’re going to try and find the animals that beat up your friend. You promised me the leg breaking days were over.”
Jake groaned. She knew him too well. “I can’t let it go unanswered.”
“You barely know the guy. Why can’t it go unanswered?”
Jake pressed back in his pillow, trying to come up with a way to explain why he had to do this. “You remember Ray Chata?”
Lines appeared on her forehead, and she exaggerated a shiver. “Kind of hard to forget. Lived near you on Poor Boy Road. Sat behin
d me in English class and harassed me until you and I started dating. Why?”
“And if you recall, Ray suddenly stopped coming to school about that time.”
“Broke both his legs or something like that.” She raised her head, eyes crushed together. “Wait. You didn’t.”
“I did.”
“You crippled that lowlife just because he wanted to get in my pants?”
“No. I broke both his legs and arms because I found him with his hands down the pants of a grade school kid in the woods near my house.”
“Jesus,” Maggie whispered.
“Now, I didn’t know who that little boy was, but it didn’t really matter. What matters is someone had to do something. I wanted to make sure he’d think twice before he did something like that again. That actions have consequences. He’s lucky I didn’t kill him.”
“What’s that got to do with Logan’s situation?”
“Actions have consequences. I’m going to do what’s right. I can’t let this go unanswered.”
“I know,” she sighed. “Just tell me it’s not dangerous, even if it’s a lie. I can’t take any more drama.”
Jake kissed her. “I’m trying, babe, and it’s not dangerous.”
They settled back in the bed, her head resting on his chest. They talked about Warsaw, her job, and Shane Langston’s trial. After a while, Maggie’s cadence slowed and the volume of her voice drifted. Jake stroked her hair as she slept. His eyes followed the turns of the ceiling fan blades and the cracks in the ceiling, working the puzzle of his case. When he figured out what he would do, he closed his eyes and slept.
In the morning, Maggie woke Jake in the most wonderful way possible. Absence certainly made her grow fonder. After they finished, she slithered off the bed and pranced naked to the bathroom, giving him a show. Jake lay back on the pillow, grinning from ear to ear. Then he remembered the mess he was in the middle of and Logan lying in the hospital. The grin disappeared. He threw on a pair of sweats, cringing as Maggie sang in the shower. She sang like her daughter, loud and off key. He padded to the living room and peeked out the window. The two guys in the sedan were back. Looked like they’d at least changed clothes. However, they presented a problem. Jake didn’t want them to see Maggie. He had to keep Maggie and Halle as far away from this shit as possible.
Jake Caldwell Thrillers Page 31
