Ten minutes later, he lugged the canoe up the opposite shore and hiked through the trees to the back of The Asylum. One of the Blood Devils, maybe a guy named Marlo, smoked a cigarette on the back porch and squinted as Shane approached.
Marlo’s hand flew to his gun but dropped back to his side when he recognized who it was. “Garvan’s been wonderin’ about you. He’s getting nervous about the shipment.”
“Well, let’s go calm those fears.”
A few minutes and a cold beer later, Shane and Garvan returned to the back porch where they enjoyed some modicum of privacy. Garvan replaced his normal swagger with a clenched jaw clamping on an unlit cigar.
“You look a bit nervous there, Garvan. Why don’t you fire up the stogie and relax?”
Garvan plucked the cigar from his mouth and spiked it to the ground. “Goddamn it, Shane. This house of sand you’ve built is going to run into a fucking tsunami. While you’re out galivantin’ around the state on your revenge binge, the noose is tightening around the rest of us left holding the bag.”
Shane whistled. “Jesus. That’s a hell of a lot of analogies in one mouthful. Chill out and tell me what’s going on.”
“Our biggest shipment’s coming in, Caldwell keeps beating the shit out of my guys, fuckin’ Parley is breathing down our necks, fucking cops have swarmed through here twice looking for you, and Delbert’s in the Taney County Sheriff’s office telling them God knows what.”
Shane decided to skip telling Garvan about Janey’s husband. Or the old man in the woods. But what about Delbert? The man was loyal to a fault and had Shane’s back in prison. Delbert took a shank to his shoulder from a pissed-off inmate, a shank meant for Shane’s back. “I don’t think Delbert will flip on us. He’s a good soldier.”
Garvan cut his steely eyes to Shane. “You sure? You willing to bet your life because that’s what you’re doing. Every man has his breaking point. My contacts don’t seem to know what’s going on other than Del’s locked in an interrogation room with the good-lookin’ bitch cop along with Parley and Caldwell.”
Shane scowled. “What the hell are they doing in Branson?”
“Beats me, but I got a bad feeling, and I learned a long time ago to listen to my gut. You better forget this vendetta and focus on the shipment and getting the hell away from my bar and out of my county.”
Garvan’s eyes grew wide as his brain caught up to the words that slipped from his thin lips. In a blink of an eye, Shane held a knife under Garvan’s throat and pressed the biker against the wood siding of the bar. Marlo and another Blood Devil watched from a distance like statues.
Shane jerked his face close enough to Garvan’s so their noses touched, his eyes ablaze. “Your bar? Your county? This is mine, you miserable fuck. That’s why your two homeboys over there aren’t doing shit to stop me, and if I ordered them to grab a bucket to catch the blood spilling from your throat after I slit it, they’d do it with a smile because they work for me. You work for me. Now tell me you understand.”
Garvan’s palms raised in surrender. “I got it, I got it. Take it easy, man.”
Shane withdrew the knife and stepped back to the porch rail. He slammed the knife tip into the soft wood and lit a cigarette. He sucked in a deep draw and let the plume billow from his nostrils. Garvan may have overstepped his boundaries, but he wasn’t wrong. Shane had smacked his dog with a rolled-up newspaper. Now it was time to give some positive reinforcement to get him to behave.
Shane held out his cold beer bottle to Garvan, who took a couple of slow, reluctant steps forward to retrieve it. “Listen, you’ve done a hell of a job keeping things going while I was in prison, brother. The network would have crumbled without you and I owe you. But you know me and there’s no way I’m going to let Caldwell and Bear get away with what they did to me.”
“But the shipment—”
“The shipment is coming. Guns are safe and nearby, a bevy of the finest ladies the Ukraine has to offer are heading our way from LA, and some mamacitas from our friends in Mexico will get picked up along the way.”
“The coke and meth?”
“Coming with the girls from Mexico. Gives you twenty-four hours.”
“To do what?”
Shane folded his thick arms across his chest. “To find out where Caldwell and Parley stashed their girls. Those two are like bloodhounds on the scented trail, and we might need some leverage. Put out the word. What about Delbert?”
Garvan bent over and picked up the cigar he tossed earlier. “We’ve got some friends down in Taney County. If Del holds the line, he’ll do some time but will be rewarded. If he runs his mouth, he’ll get to find out how he looks with a Columbian necktie. In the meantime, I have someone bringing the truck as far as Oklahoma. I’ll send Marlo to meet the truck at the spot outside Norman and bring it in the rest of the way.”
“Good.” Shane yanked the knife from the porch rail and pointed the tip at the biker. “Don’t fuck this up, Garvan.”
Chapter Forty
The man from the diner wrung his calloused hands as he wore a circle in the carpet around his office desk. He realized his pacing emulated Shifflett and stopped cold. He didn’t want to copy any habits of that sniveling coward. Normally the epitome of calm, the news he’d received dropped an anchor in his gut. The ghosts of his past knocked at the door, and he didn’t like it one bit.
It was hard to comprehend how quick the corruption crept on him. The greed grew in him like a cancer, and in a matter of a few years it had consumed him. The little taste of power he’d garnered through his acquisition of wealth turned into a ravenous hunger. Now a greasy biker, who knew far too much, threatened his vision of being the puppet master over a lucrative network of drugs, guns, and girls in the Midwest.
He hesitated long enough to dial Shifflett’s cell phone before resuming his trek around the carpet while it rang. Shifflett answered on the third ring. “You alone?”
“Hold on,” Shifflett said. A door thumped shut through the speaker. “What’s up? You calling this close to the event can’t be a good thing.”
“It’s not. Just got the word from Taney County. Delbert’s talking.”
“Who told you?”
The man pounded the desk. “Goddamn it, does it matter? I’ve got a guy on the inside. If he’s talking, it puts everything in jeopardy. The question is, how much does he know?”
“About the whole operation? More than I feel comfortable with. He was Langston’s guy, though. No tellin’ how much info Shane fed him.”
“What about our latest shipment?”
“You mean our last shipment? We agreed this was it.”
The man imagined Shifflett sitting in front of him, his hands wringing Shifflett’s fat neck like a turkey on Thanksgiving. “Damn it, Clayton, will you stay focused? We need to ensure everything’s on schedule. You make sure the driver is ready to pick up the truck in Oklahoma. I’ll verify everything’s set with the buyers in Chicago and New York.”
“But if Delbert’s talking—”
“Then do whatever it takes to make sure he keeps his mouth shut.”
Shifflett groaned. “This is more than I signed up for.”
“You signed up for this the second you buried those bodies.”
The man stared at the silent phone, picturing the beads of sweat tearing their way across Shifflett’s wide forehead and fat jowls. He made a horrible mistake letting the cowardly assistant warden get this deep into the operation.
“I’ll make sure Garvan moved the bodies like I asked.”
“And your guy on the inside in Branson. We can’t afford to let Delbert blow this operation up.”
“I’m sure Garvan will take care of that, too.”
The man slammed his fist hard enough on the desk to slosh coffee from his mug. “Take some responsibility for this, you sniveling pantywaist. You’re pissing down your leg in fear, and fear is what gets people caught because they do stupid things.”
Shifflett was silent f
or a beat. “I can handle this. I won’t do anything stupid.”
But the man knew Shifflett would. And the moment he clicked the button to end the call became the moment he knew Shifflett had to die.
* * *
Clayton Shifflett let the chill ripple his spine as he set the phone on his cluttered desk. He ran the tip of his tongue over chapped lips, catching some sweat forming along his upper lip. This wasn’t good.
He owned a finely tuned radar for reading between the lines, tossing aside the bullshit and getting to the heart of the matter. From the diner man’s point of view, the shipment remained the heart of the matter while Clayton had become the bullshit to be tossed aside. Clayton was in over his head. He knew it and the man knew it. Filled with enough information about the diner man’s illegal activities, Clayton could bury him a dozen times over. The diner man would come to realize the risk of Clayton spending many more days above ground. Time to run.
Chapter Forty-One
Janey threw herself against Jake as he burst into Bear’s office. Her wiry limbs wrapped themselves like ropes around his back, her sobs soaking through his shirt. Jake stroked her head and glanced to Klages, who pressed a phone to her ear and scribbled on a notepad. Bear slipped in the room and patted Janey on the back.
“What are we going to do, Jake?” Janey asked.
Jake grasped her by the shoulders to peel her off him and guided her to the couch. “Bear and I have been burning up our phones making calls. We have extra manpower coming in, and we’re going to get this guy. But, our first job is to find the boys. When’s the last time you saw them?”
She dabbed at her sunken eyes with a tissue. “Last night before I went to work. We ate dinner once Luther got home from the lumber yard. The boys went upstairs, Luther grabbed a beer and started watching TV, and I left.”
Bear handed her a fresh tissue. “Tell us what happened.”
She sniffed. “I got home from work at lunch time. Forgot to pack anything to eat, and I was pulling a double shift so figured I’d grab some leftovers. I opened the door and found Luther dead in the chair with a…a knife in his chest, and the note.”
“Where are the boys?”
Bulbous tears rolled down her lined face. “Once I saw the note was from Shane Langston, I flew through the house screaming the boys’ names, terrified I would find them lying in a pool of blood somewhere, but they weren’t anywhere. That’s when I called you.”
Klages hung up the phone. “We have nothing on the boys so far. While you were heading back, Janey and I brainstormed some places they might be, but we’ve come up snake eyes so far.”
Janey’s doe eyes locked on Jake’s. “You think the bastard has my babies to get back at you?”
Jake thought for a moment, guilt trying to worm its way into his soul. Getting to him and Bear was the sole reason Langston would go to Janey’s house. While the world wouldn’t miss the likes of Luther Tully, nobody deserved to die that way. And if his nephews ended up dead, would it be his fault?
Jake batted the thought away. “No way he’s risking getting weighed down by trying to keep control of two full grown teenage boys. The fact they’re not at the house is a good sign, I think.”
Bear nodded. “I gotta agree with Jake. Langston will want to be as mobile as possible. Taking the boys would be a huge risk for him.”
Klages moved from behind the desk. “True, but if his goal is to get back at Jake, what better way than to start with his family. But I also agree it would be a risk for him to haul the boys around. Plus, Luther’s car’s gone. Either Langston took it or the boys did. Janey and I were discussing the possibility they snuck out of the house and weren’t even there when Langston showed.”
“That’d make more sense. No way Langston would kill Luther and drive around in his car. He’s an asshole, but he’s not that stupid. Would the boys take it?”
Janey tilted her head down and frowned. “Steal their father’s car? They’ve done it before to go joy riding.”
“But all night?”
“Not all night. They know Luther would beat their asses if he found out.”
Jake grasped her cold hands. “We’re going to find the boys, Sis. And as much as I disliked Luther, I’m so sorry you have to go through this. You guys check the school?”
Klages nodded. “Yup. They didn’t show this morning. But they have a…how do I say…spotty attendance record anyway, so I wouldn’t put too much credence into it.”
Jake’s cell vibrated, and he checked the screen. Cat. He excused himself and stepped into the hallway. “Tell me you have something good, Cat. I need some positive news.”
“That’s what you said last time we talked.”
“Shit keeps getting worse.”
Cat blew into the speaker. “So, I told you Enyart Property Management owns Heartstone Trucking and Jangs Holdings, and PMA Management owns Xtreme Entertainment and The Asylum.”
“I need a freaking schematic diagram.”
“I’ll send you mine. But, take a guess who owns PMA Management?”
Jake rolled his eyes. He hated guessing games. “The Pope?”
“Clayton Shifflett.”
Jake stopped in his tracks. “Shifflett? Our Shifflett?”
The excitement in Cat’s voice kicked up a notch. “The very same. It’s buried deep in the legal filings with the State of Missouri, but it’s there.”
“Wait, I thought there were three entities owned by PMA. What was the third?”
Papers shuffled in the background. “The Asylum, Xtreme, and, oh yeah, Kappelmann Laundry Service.”
Now that he knew Shifflett was involved, the image of the Kappelmann Laundry truck which eluded him earlier popped into his brain. The Jeff City prison. The Kappelmann truck pulling away from the prison when he and Bear went to visit Shifflett.
“Thanks, Cat. Anything else on Shifflett?”
“Not yet. Still digging. I’ll keep you posted.”
Jake disconnected and hustled back to Bear’s office. “Sorry. What did I miss?”
Bear scratched his beard. “Nothing much. We’re brainstorming possible locations of her boys with Janey. You have any ideas?”
Halle jumped in his mind. “Maybe. Let me make a call.”
Jake tap danced with Halle on the necessity to find the boys without freaking her or Maggie out. Jake hoped Luther’s death wouldn’t make the Kansas City news. Even though the boys were a couple years younger than Halle, they were still in the same school, and she promised to make a few calls.
Jake popped back in the room. “Can I borrow Klages for a minute?”
Klages followed him out the door to her desk. “What’s up?”
“Just need some info on a company called Kappelmann Laundry Service. Think you could pull up their website?”
“Don’t have to. They’re an industrial laundry service. Handle a few local businesses including our jail house.”
“They also handle the laundry for the Jefferson City Correctional Center. Wonder how many other prisons they handle?”
Her dark eyebrows rose. “And this is important because?”
“I’ve got a hunch. You have any contacts with other jails and prisons?”
“A few. Want me to make a couple calls while we wait for your daughter to call back?”
“That’d be great. Thanks.”
Jake headed back to Bear’s office. Janey agreed to grab a cup of coffee while he talked to Bear, and she shuffled out the door.
“She’s in shock,” Bear said.
“Wouldn’t you be? What was the name of the guard you talked to at JCCC?”
“Blaine?”
“Call him and ask him what he knows about Kappelmann Laundry. I talked to Cat and he said Shifflett owns PMA Management, which owns Xtreme, The Asylum, and Kappelmann.”
“Holy shit.”
“I know. If Shifflett’s as bent as Cat says he is, I’m wondering if they’re shipping in more than sheets and blankets into the prison. We know w
e can nail Xtreme and The Asylum on some shady shit.”
Bear held his immense palms up. “Whoa, what we think and what we can prove are two different things.”
“But Shifflett doesn’t know that. If we can nail something down for Kappelmann and bring his fat ass in for questioning, I guarantee the nervous nut will crack. Maybe give us a bead on Langston.”
Bear thumbed his ear. “It’s thin, but I’ll give Blaine a call about Kappelmann. Maybe he knows something useful.”
As Bear dialed the number, Jake’s cell rang. Halle. Her friend Brenda said Eli, the sixteen-year-old, had a girlfriend in Sedalia. Jake wrote the girl’s name on a notepad and told Halle he’d check back with her in a few hours.
Bear hung up his call. “Blaine said it’s well known among the guards Kappelmann ships in more than laundry. If the prisoner can pay for it, they can get it. Weapons excluded, of course.”
“Drugs?” Jake asked.
“Easily. Said it’s like a pharmacy on some of the blocks.”
“Women?”
“If you have enough money.”
Jake handed Bear the name. “Eli has a girl in Sedalia. Maybe we should take a trip up there on our way to Jeff City.”
“What? We going to go talk to Shifflett?”
“The son of a bitch is tied into everything, and I’ll bet your last pound of bacon he’s tied in with Shane. Let’s go roust him after we find my nephews.”
Chapter Forty-Two
A couple miles north of the fairgrounds, they located the girlfriend’s house in an old neighborhood reeking of desperation. Sedalia had its nice areas, but this tract of housing wasn’t one of them. Tiny houses with vinyl siding, weeds springing up in the yards, old trees which hadn’t been trimmed in decades hanging over broken sidewalks like they’d suffered through an earthquake. The four o’clock, Friday afternoon sun fell quickly over the roof line.
Jake Caldwell Thrillers Page 97
