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Wild Rage

Page 18

by Tripp Ellis


  The burly dude introduced himself as TJ. He was definitely the sort of guy who liked to chase adrenaline, but he was about to get more than he bargained for.

  TJ cruised out of the marina and throttled up, bringing the boat on plane. JD and I hung on as he raced across the water, the hull carving through the swells. The boat rose and fell, and mists of saltwater sprayed. Wind swirled, and the outboards roared, spitting a frothy white wake.

  "What did the bastard do?" TJ asked.

  "We believe he murdered two women."

  "No shit!?" TJ grinned. "Don't worry, we're gonna catch that bastard."

  I called Sheriff Daniels and alerted him to the situation. I shouted over the wind and the roar of the engines and asked him to call the Coast Guard and to send Tango One.

  The racing boat was a hell of a lot faster than the sport yacht. We caught up to the suspect in no time.

  That's when the fun began.

  Cody drew a pistol and took aim. He fired several shots in our direction. Muzzle flash flickered from the barrel of his 9mm pistol.

  TJ ducked behind the helm console and swerved the expensive racing boat away. "You didn't tell me he'd be shooting at us."

  "Just back off and keep a safe distance,” I said. “We just need to keep an eye on him. He's not gonna get away."

  TJ's face twisted. "Fuck that noise. I ain’t afraid of a few bullets."

  TJ veered back toward the target and throttled up.

  Cody's haphazard shots across the water weren’t that accurate. But still, he could get lucky and hit something.

  I crept to the bow and drew my pistol, angling it over the gunwale as we approached Cody.

  The perp swung his pistol toward us and fired a few more shots.

  Bullets snapped across the water.

  TJ zigged and zagged, making us a little more difficult to hit.

  I took aim at Cody’s outboard motors and squeezed the trigger multiple times. Bullets peppered the stern of the boat, and a few of them managed to hit an engine.

  We crashed through the swells, water spraying me in the face, chasing after the scumbag.

  It wasn’t long before smoke fluttered from one of Cody’s engines. The bullets I pumped into it did more damage than I had initially thought. It coughed and sputtered, and a moment later, it caught fire. Black smoke roiled into the air as flames engulfed the motor.

  Cody kept barreling ahead with one functional engine. He fired a few more shots in our direction, the bullets zipping too close for comfort.

  It didn't take long for the flames to spread to the second engine. Then to the seat cushions in the cockpit.

  The boat lost forward momentum, and the flames quickly spread.

  Cody didn't have any choice but to dive into the water, or he’d soon find himself extra crispy.

  Within moments, the sport yacht was completely engulfed in flames. The amber fire popped and crackled, and black smoke billowed high into the sky.

  Cody struggled to tread water.

  I quickly realized he wasn't a very good swimmer.

  TJ circled around, keeping a reasonable distance. Cody still had a pistol, and he popped off a few shots while trying to stay afloat.

  He splashed and flailed, damn near drowning. I don’t think anybody would have shed a tear if he slipped underneath the water and never surfaced again. It would have been a fitting end to a man who choked the life out of two women. I wanted to see the ocean take its revenge.

  "Drop the weapon!" I shouted, crouching low behind the gunwale as we circled.

  The putrid stench of burning seat cushions, resin, and electronics wafted across the water.

  The patter of Tango One echoed overhead, and a Coast Guard Defender class patrol boat soon arrived.

  Cody finally dropped the weapon into the water, and it sank to the depths.

  A Coast Guard petty officer aboard the patrol boat tossed him a life preserver, and he clung onto it. The Coast Guard fished him out of the water and slapped cuffs around his wrists. At that point, I was hoping he’d fall overboard.

  We thanked TJ for his valiant effort and assured him he would get some kind of commendation from the department. Then, JD and I transferred to the Coast Guard’s patrol boat.

  TJ had a wide grin on his face. "This is like the most awesome thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said. "I've got one hell of a story to tell my buddies."

  The Coast Guard shuttled us back to the station. Cody was printed, processed, and put into an interrogation room. When his prints were run through the system, we found something interesting.

  49

  Cody’s real name was Melvin. He had a prior rape and kidnapping conviction in Michigan—a young prostitute that he had bound, abused, and tortured. The girl had escaped, and it made me wonder how many women hadn’t escaped the sadist’s perversions. He’d assumed a new identity when he moved to town.

  Melvin knew he was going away for a long time. When I asked him why he did it, he just shrugged his shoulders and said, “I don’t know why I choked that girl to death. I guess I just kinda liked it.”

  It was a stunning admission. At least he was honest.

  “Why Helen?”

  “She’d seen me with the girl,” he said.

  “Mindy?”

  “Yeah, whatever her name was. Helen saw me with her on the boat. Then she started asking all these nosy questions about the girl. I always figured her psychic powers were bullshit, but I got a little nervous. She knew details she couldn’t have known.” He sighed. “She was a pain in the ass, anyway.”

  Cody didn’t seem to have any remorse whatsoever.

  The fibers found on Helen’s throat matched the shirt fibers from the garment we confiscated aboard the Seaduction. The blood on the ropes matched Mindy Monroe’s. There was no question Cody had killed them both.

  Over the next few days, JD and I took it easy. We drank, fished, and chased skirts. It was a much-needed break. We’d taken some dirt-balls off the street, but there was still a band of marauders on the seas, ripping off wealthy boaters, though they hadn’t struck recently. Maybe they had moved on to other waters.

  JD kept checking the charts religiously. All I Need bounced up and down, never quite hitting number one—but the ride wasn’t over yet. The band rehearsed for their gig Saturday at Sonic Temple. It was becoming a regular show for them. There was a lot of discussion about the next video, and Styxx and Dizzy had written a few more songs.

  After the initial backlash, the majority of the press turned positive. JD kept fielding calls from record companies, managers, and agents. None of the offers sounded appealing, and JD was set on maintaining control. He’d gotten the band this far without any interference.

  The offers were usually from slick young execs looking to capitalize on the next trend and make a quick buck by offering a terrible deal. It was all in the fine print that most artists never bothered to read. Low royalties, high recoupable expense caps, and an exorbitant percentage of all other revenue, including sponsorship, tv, and film deals. But the executive that showed up after the Sonic Temple show had something interesting to offer JD.

  The show was sold out. Scalped tickets were going for outrageous fees. Throngs of people loitered outside just to hear the rumbling of music spilling out onto the sidewalk. Wild Fury rocked the house and played a few encores. Even then, the crowd didn’t want to leave.

  A middle-aged man in a suit greeted the sweaty band as they exited the stage. “Outstanding show! My name is Ted Rockman, and I manage some of the biggest bands in rock ‘n’ roll. I’ve gotta say, you guys have got that special something.”

  By this point, the guys in the band had heard the same spiel before. But this guy was the real deal, which was confirmed when he listed his roster of top-tier talent. Rockman, clearly a stage name, was known for discovering new bands and shaping the sound of ‘80s rock. “I know you guys are probably getting a lot of attention right now. And you deserve it. But you need to be careful about which o
ffers you take. If you need me to put you in touch with a good entertainment attorney, I’m more than happy to do so. Do not sign anything without having a qualified, experienced attorney look it over first. I know so many artists who have come to me crying when they realized exactly what they signed away.“

  “What are you offering?” Styxx asked.

  Ted smiled. “I just wanted to meet you all personally. We can discuss business later if it looks like we might be right for each other.”

  It certainly was a different approach than the other agents and managers.

  “You flew all the way out from LA just to see the show and meet the band?” Styxx asked.

  “I did.”

  Adoring groupies crowded toward the band, and security held them at bay.

  JD and the guys moved down the hall toward the green room, and Ted followed. The guys spilled into the green room, anxious to cool off with a cold brew that was waiting for them in a tub of ice.

  Adoring fans chanted for more. The rumble of their mono-voice spilled into the corridor.

  Ted pulled JD aside and said in a hushed tone, “I’d like to have a word with you in private, if I may?”

  “Sure,” JD said.

  “To be honest, I really came out here to talk to you,” Ted said.

  JD looked at him with a quizzical gaze.

  “As you know, I represent a certain internationally famous rock band.”

  “I’m aware,” JD said.

  “That band is about to embark on a massive world tour. But, between you and me, there are some internal conflicts. Situations have arisen that are threatening the tour. I’m not really at liberty to go into specifics, you understand?”

  JD nodded.

  “The dates are in place, venues have been booked, and tickets sold. There’s no turning back. It’s either cancel the tour and disappoint millions of fans or find an alternative solution to the dilemma at hand. The long and short of it is, the guys in the band think that you would make an excellent replacement singer for the upcoming tour.”

  JD’s eyes widened.

  “The exposure would be huge. You’d mark your place in history as a member of one of the greatest rock ’n’ roll bands. I’ve been following your progress since your show in Los Angeles.”

  “You saw that?”

  “You’re damn right I did. It was the talk of the town. And the marketing stunts you pulled were pure genius.”

  “Let me get this straight… You want me to drop Wild Fury and go on a world tour with one of the most iconic bands in rock ‘n’ roll?”

  Ted nodded with a smile. He knew the offer was too good to pass up. Only a fool would turn it down. “Your band will be here when you get back.”

  “How long is the tour scheduled for?”

  “It’s a year, start to finish. You’ll travel the globe, stay in the finest hotels, live the life of a rock ’n’ roll god, and I don’t need to sell you on the perks of being the lead singer in an arena rock band.” Ted grinned. “Bring lots of condoms.”

  JD looked stunned. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, getting to tour the globe with a band he idolized. He certainly had a lot to consider.

  Ready for more?

  The adventure continues with Wild Heart!

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  Author’s Note

  Thanks for all the great reviews!

  I’ve got more adventures for Tyson and JD. Stay tuned.

  If you liked this book, let me know with a review on Amazon.

  Hope you are well during this challenging time. Thanks for reading!

  —Tripp

  Tyson Wild

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