by Jack Hardin
Ellie shut her laptop and stood up. She needed to get out of here, to run, to burn off the stress and the anger eating away inside her. She couldn’t just walk out the door and run up the island like she was used to. Cypress Slough was a thirty-five hundred acre preserve in South Fort Myers and had pathways and a raised boardwalk that cut through the forest. She grabbed the truck keys and the dog leash, whistled at Citrus. “Come on, we’re going out.”
Citrus’s ears went back and he soared off the couch and tore across the kitchen too fast. His paws worked furiously at the tile floor as he tried to stop, but he landed head first into the door jamb. He stood up and shook his head, dazed. Ellie looked down on him. “I’m not sure you can afford to lose many more brain cells.” She opened the door into the garage, and Citrus followed sluggishly behind her.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
He would miss this office, but he would not be leaving the books. Ringo grabbed several leather-bound hardbacks and carefully made his way back down the built-in rolling ladder. But for one wall, the office was surrounded with floor-to-ceiling, custom made bookcases. There were cardboard boxes, assembled and taped, set neatly across the office floor.
Quinton was staring into the saltwater fish tank that stood in the center of the room. Ringo set the books into one of the boxes and went back up the ladder.
“I’m not so sure that I’ll keep this place,” Quinton said. “Maybe I’ll tell Angeles Negros they can have it back.”
“Where will you conduct your meetings?”
“The fishing shack. Maybe.” Quinton waved his hand around. “This is all a little much for me. You know that.” He stepped around several boxes and when he got to the bookcase he started pulling books off the shelves by two and threes. “How do you think Andrés and Chewy are taking to the transition?” he asked.
“May I make a suggestion?” Ringo said.
“By all means.”
Ringo made his way down the ladder. “From the perspective of a new leader, perhaps it’s not wise to let your subordinates know that you are holding some cards off the table. Cards that had previously been on the table.”
“You mean me holding back a new angle I’m working?”
“Precisely that.”
“I don’t want to get them in on something that may not be permanent. Once I see how this new relationship works, once I fully trust who I’m working with, there’s nothing I won’t tell them.”
Ringo set Livy’s History of Rome in the box. He turned and looked his friend squarely in the face. “Quinton, are you dissolving rule one? Are you putting other products on the shelves?”
Quinton ran a tongue across his teeth. “No. I’m not.” But it was the long silence which followed that spoke the truth.
Ringo slid the ladder over and went back up. “Because if you were, that would be your choice to make. It would be your birthright. But you would do well to remember that Andrés and Chewy both respect the code. So do our distributors. In fact, most of our distributors would walk away if we were dissolve any one of the rules. And doing so without informing them would be a high disrespect.”
“I understand. Like I said, I’m not doing anything differently.”
Ringo reached for a book and slid it off the shelf. A burgundy cloth cover of The Picture of Dorian Gray. He ran his fingers across it. “All right, Quinton.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
AJ wasn’t sure if they would be getting a delivery tonight or not, so Ellie was helping him finish up the cellar they had worked on a couple nights before. It was dark, and they had to work in the glow of the pavilion’s lights. Ellie handed him another 2x4, and he tapped it against another standing beside it. “How long have you been at this?” she finally asked.
“I’ve been in the game for a bit,” he said, and that was all. That was when they heard a vehicle’s tires rumble over the road toward them. AJ gave Ellie a quizzical look. “I thought I closed the gate after you got here.” She only shrugged.
A white Tahoe appeared and pulled up at the building. Three men got out. They were of Spanish descent and all had shaved heads. “Great,” AJ grumbled.
“Who are they?” she asked.
“Overeager buyers. They shouldn’t even be here.” He started toward the Tahoe and spoke over his shoulder. “Stay here.” AJ stopped in front of the men and crossed his arms. They were too far out for Ellie to hear what they were saying. The largest of the three was clutching a leather satchel. He said something to AJ who then led them into the pavilion.
The pavilion was half full of pallets laden with sod, most of them double stacked so they formed a loose maze of sorts. Ellie cut around to the side and went into the maze, navigating it until she was close enough to hear, but hidden from view.
“I told you last time,” AJ was saying. “I can’t authorize a transaction. That has to come from the top.”
“But I got the money right here, ese. And I know you got to have some stashed around here somewhere.” There were a few moments of silence and then, “Here. Take this. That’s eleven Gs in there. One is yours. You can give ten to your boss.”
“You need to leave,” AJ said flatly.
“Why you gotta play the game like that? We’re not leaving. Here I am. I come to you as one professional to another. I offer you good money. And you still turn me down.”
“It’s not my product to sell you.”
“Fine then. If that’s how you want it.”
The next thing she heard was a loud grunt as the air rushed out of AJ’s lungs. She tensed and navigated more sod stacks until she was offered a narrow view. AJ was on the dirt floor, doubled over. The big man holding the satchel was looking down on him. “We’re gonna find it, ese.” Then he sent his foot into AJ’s back. The big man looked around him, taking in his immediate surroundings. He set the satchel down, reached behind his back, and brought out a chromed semi-automatic pistol that glistened in the overhead lights. He squatted down and set the tip of the barrel against AJ’s cheek. “If I don’t leave here tonight with what I came for, you’re getting one in the eye.” Ellie could feel fresh heat rising from her face as the man stood up and addressed the two that had come with him. “Find it,” he said. “And find that girl we saw, too.” The men walked off in separate directions.
Ellie backed down through the sod maze, heading for the rear of the pavilion. She stepped out into the dark and saw what she was looking for bolted to a corner steel column. She kneeled down and ran her hand across the top of the loose dirt. She stood up and, using her other hand, reached around to the inside of the column and wrapped her hand around the breaker box lever. She closed her eyes tightly and laid her forearm across them. She waited ten seconds before releasing a cough. A few moments later she heard footsteps in the sod maze, heading in her direction. She slammed the lever down and the entire area was sent into darkness, the lever letting off a loud, metallic click. Ellie opened her eyes as the footsteps stopped.
She saw him. He was standing at the edge of the pavilion, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Ellie could see the outline of a gun in his hand. Silently, she circled in behind him. Just as he started to move again, she said, “Psssst.” As he spun at the sound Ellie threw her hand towards him and uncurled her fingers. Tiny particles of sand rained into his eyes and he cried out and brought his free hand to his face. Ellie stepped in and grabbed his wrist with one hand while the other swiped his gun from his grip. Still squinting against the dirt, he swung his free arm around, trying to hit his attacker. Ellie leaned back on her heels and the punch arced away, leaning him momentarily bent over. Ellie pulled down on his wrist, and as his head followed his body downward, she swung her right leg up, straightened it, and sent the back of her boot down onto the side of his head. He collapsed into the dirt, motionless.
His gun in her hand, Ellie ran back to the breaker box and flipped the lights back on, then carefully skirted the pavilion’s perimeter, coming around to the front. AJ was still on the ground, t
he big man standing over him, looking up at the lights. Ellie didn’t know where the other man was, so she slipped behind a stack of sod for cover. After completing a quick press check on the gun she stepped out just behind the big man and pressed the tip of the barrel into his back. He froze.
“Your buddy with the gold earring. He’s taking a nap. What’s the other one’s name?”
“Uh, Jesse.”
“And yours?”
“Beto.”
“Toss your gun and sit down, Beto.” He did as he was told, and AJ sat up on his elbows and looked at her with unbelieving eyes. Ellie raised the gun toward a stack of sod. She pulled the trigger, and the loud crack of the discharge reverberated up to the metal roof. “Jesse,” she called out. “You have twenty seconds to get back here before Beto gets one in the leg. Ten seconds….five.” Just as she was about to pull the trigger, she saw movement to her left.
“Okay—okay. Wait!” Jesse stepped out from behind a pallet of sod, holding a gun out in front of him. Ellie moved behind Beto and kneeled down, pressed her gun against his neck.
“Put your weapon down,” she ordered. He wavered, looked at Beto. “Now,” she snapped. It clattered to the dirt. “Now,” she said, “one of your buddies is sleeping in the back, near the Bobcat. Jesse you have forty-five seconds to go get him and bring him back.” When he ran off, Ellie told Beto to stand up. She stood with him and took a step.
Jesse appeared, his hands under the other man’s armpits, dragging him backward. “Take him to the Tahoe,” Ellie said. AJ stood up with a grimace. “Now get out of here,” she said. Beto moved toward the satchel and stopped when he reached down to grab it.
No,” Ellie said flatly. “That stays here.” When he smirked and reached for it again, she fired in rapid succession, sending two rounds skidding off the dirt inches from his feet. He froze. “Try it again,” she said. AJ looked over at Ellie, smiling, astonished. “Now, get in your truck and drive away. If your boss wants to take this up with our boss, then fine. But for now, you leave it.”
Two minutes later the men were in the Tahoe, speeding back down the road. As soon as their tail lights disappeared, Ellie feigned exhaustion. She dropped the gun and, with a single, wobbly motion, sat suddenly into the dirt. Her hands were shaking, and she stared wide eyed at the ground in front of her. “You okay?” AJ asked.
“I think so,” she said quietly.
“You got some balls, girl.”
Her head was hanging. “I just did what anyone else would have.”
“You saved my ass.” AJ came around behind her and helped her get to her feet. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Stacey Blume kept an office at each of the businesses she owned, all of them cluttered. She sat behind her messy desk, her phone pressed into her cheek with help from her shoulder, and shuffled through a stack of papers while she listened to the caller at the other end.
A glass snow globe of Chicago's cityscape sat between a couple empty coffee mugs. Quinton picked it up and turned it upside down, watched the tiny white particles settle on the John Hancock Center, Water Tower Place, and Onterie Center. When Stacey finished the call, he asked, “You and Zeke went to grade school together?”
“We did. Then my folks moved down here. He and I reconnected a few years ago.”
Quinton set the snow globe down. “What did you want to discuss?”
“I need you to bring more coke in here. My guy in Jacksonville said that they’ve already moved what we sent up and he needs more. Like, yesterday.”
Quinton shook his head. “I’ve already directed a fair portion of my product through you. It’s too early on for me to offer up more than that. Things start to go south when you become overeager.”
Stacey nodded half-heartedly. “I do agree. But if they can’t get it from me they might go somewhere else and now I’ve shot myself the foot. I’ve got Julip making the pills but he’s nearly out of coke.”
“Stacey, you’re making me uncomfortable. I don’t like being uncomfortable.”
“Just tell Ringo we need twenty percent more. That's all.”
Quinton ran his tongue across his top teeth. “Stacey, who do you think Ringo is?”
“How would I—” She studied his face, and her perfectly-shaped eyebrows rose. “No...You?”
His smile was disquieting.
“Oh my god.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Oh my god. This whole time? You? With your little bait shop….incredible.”
“So can I assume you’ll respect my decision to take things at a pace I’m comfortable with?”
“Yes. Yes, of course. We’ll go as slow as we need to.”
“Good. Now, I’ve got to get back to my little bait shop.”
Chapter Forty
Garrett’s home was situated on the southeast edge of Estero Island, overlooking Coon Key and Ostego Bay. A private driveway snaked off Island Pines Way and ended at a one-story stucco home with a high, diagonal roof line and tall, narrow windows. The home was modest for its private location, and its style recommended the nineteen-seventies as a possible time of build. The brick was painted in a light gray, the fascia and windows trimmed in a bright white that contributed toward a more modern feel.
A mowed clearing butted up against a cluster of mangroves where a couple dozen vehicles were already parked. Tyler turned his truck into a space at the far end. Ellie exited the truck and breathed in the tangy scent of the small bay that sat on the other side of the mangroves.
“Nice little place,” Tyler noted. His face had almost fully healed from the fight he’d had with Trigg Deneford. For the last week a black eye had filled his eye socket. All that remained now was a yellowish color that was looking more normal with each passing day.
They arrived at the front porch and rang the bell. “Try not to make any dumb jokes tonight,” Ellie said.
Respecting the occasion, Tyler had left his ball cap at home. His hair was finger combed back. He wore a navy blue button down tucked into jeans. “I’ll have you know that the dumbness of a joke is in the mind of the hearer, not the teller,” he said.
The door was opened by a slim brunette with high cheekbones and lively hazel eyes. She wore dark jeans and a white chiffon blouse. She and Ellie were nearly matching. Ellie recognized Garrett’s wife from pictures in his office. She introduced herself and Tyler, and Angela Cage escorted them in through the foyer and into the living room, where a couple dozen people were mingling, laughing, nibbling on hors d'oeuvres and clutching drinks.
The home’s interior had a wide, open floor plan. The floors were a dark woodgrain tile, and the dining area looked onto the living room and the back door. Only the kitchen was set off by a wall. Off the foyer was an office boasting French doors and built-in bookcases.
Ellie suddenly became the center of attention as her former co-workers noticed her. For the next half hour, by twos and threes, they would approach, asking what she was doing now, if she ever thought she would get to come back. Most mentioned having heard about Trigg Deneford, the same man their office had arrested two months earlier, coming back and trying to kill her. At one point Tyler had come by and slipped a drink in her hand. Now, he was across the room retelling his engagement with Deneford to a captive audience.
Garrett and Angela made their way over and Ellie said, “I love your home, Angela. How long have you been here?”
“It’s just our second month. The private dock is what did it for us. I enjoy the seclusion. My fashion line finally got picked up earlier this year, so we decided to splurge a little.”
Ellie asked, “Are you still spending most of your time in New York?”
“Yes.” She slid an arm around her husband and looked up at him. “Most of my time these days.”
“She leaves again first thing tomorrow morning,” Garrett said. “I’m hoping we can think of a more convenient scenario soon than later.”
“It won’t be like this forever,” Angela said, and
then excused herself and went back into the kitchen.
“You married up, Garrett,” Ellie said.
“Don’t I know it.”
She scanned the room. “Any of the big dogs from Miami here?”
“Why?” Garrett grinned, “Thinking of poisoning a few drinks?”
“Perhaps.”
“Unfortunately, there are not. They have an official retirement ceremony and plaque presentation for him down there next week. We wanted to do something local for him beforehand.” Someone called to him from across the room. “Excuse me.”
Ellie saw Tyler in a conversation with three men from the Special Response Team. He took a pull on his beer and then his eyes caught Ellie’s. He didn’t smile, he didn’t grin. He just stared at her the way a man will when he’s taken with a lady. After Ellie felt that she wouldn’t be able to breathe if she didn’t, she smiled softly and broke the connection.
Jet Jahner stepped in next to her. “Thanks for coming, Ellie.”
Her face felt warm. She raised her glass to him. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
“You’ve been missed around the office. Every day you’re gone the more legendary you become.”
“Yeah?”
“The last water cooler rumor I heard was that you shot Nunez with lasers from your eyes.”
She shook her head. “No. I keep telling everyone it’s lasers from the fingertips. You’ve got to correct these things, Jet.”
He laughed. “So you’re keeping busy these days?”
As much as she stood there wanting to, she couldn’t tell Jet about the lead Mark had given her, or that it had led her into a new drug ring. So she said, “Trying to. The easy life isn’t so bad, you know.”
