No Justice: A Michael Sykora Novel

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No Justice: A Michael Sykora Novel Page 13

by Darcia Helle


  The guy beside Lott, the owner of the Lincoln, said, “Sure, I’ll take you on.”

  “My name’s Nick,” Michael said.

  “Wiz,” the Lincoln driver said.

  Michael clamped his mouth shut to keep from commenting on the nickname. Wiz said, “Ten bucks says I’ll win.”

  Michael took the bet. He then found himself working very hard to lose. Wiz was not very good at pool. But stepping into their territory and winning would probably not put Michael in a good position. So he took a bunch of wild shots, set Wiz up to ensure easy shots, and made a lot of small talk.

  While Michael stood waiting for his turn, he took his cell phone from his pocket and pretended to be replying to a text message. Instead he snapped a few pictures. When camera phones had first come out, Michael considered the whole concept ridiculous. Now he found they were useful in certain circumstances.

  After the game, Wiz snatched Michael’s 10 from the table. He said, “Double or nothing?”

  “Wish I could,” Michael said. “I’d like the chance to redeem myself here. But my old lady’s already pissed, so I’d better head out.”

  “Maybe next time then,” Wiz said through a self-satisfied grin.

  Michael left the bar, feeling pretty satisfied himself. Wiz didn’t have many next times left.

  ***

  Michael briefly considered breaking into Lott’s apartment, waiting there for him, and killing him tonight. But something about that didn’t feel right. So instead he decided to hang out in the parking lot for awhile and see where that took him.

  Forty-five minutes later one of them stepped outside with the skinny dart-playing female hanging on him. He steered her toward the side of the building. Enough light spilled into the alley for Michael to see the guy, not Lott or Wiz, lean back against the building. The woman dropped down on her knees and Michael turned away. Not a visual he cared to have in his memory bank.

  Five minutes later the pair walked back into the bar. Another hour passed and the parking lot began to empty out. Michael had been hoping that one or both of the men he didn’t know would come out to their cars. A license plate could lead him to the information he needed. But sitting in the parking lot half the night was not doing good things for his mood.

  A few minutes later Lott and Wiz stepped outside. Michael slid low in his seat as they crossed the parking lot. The Lincoln pulled out and Michael made the quick decision to follow. He couldn’t sit and do nothing another minute. And maybe, if things went well, he could eliminate both Lott and Wiz tonight.

  It wasn’t long before Michael realized that luck was not on his side. The Lincoln stopped at a beat-up house where a dozen young thugs were hanging out on the front lawn. Probably a drug connection.

  With nowhere to stop, Michael drove past the crowd. The night had a bad feel to it. He could force things. Go to Lott’s apartment or back to the bar. But he’d been at this long enough to trust his feelings. Tonight was not the night. And so he headed home.

  Chapter 39

  The next morning Michael managed to get a minimum of legitimate work done in between hacking into government computers and obsessing over details of how to rid the world of four more bad guys. He’d run the license plate on the Lincoln. Wiz was actually William Bowen and he lived about a block from Lott. Now if only he could stick a nametag on the other two.

  Despite the distractions, Michael had his laptop case packed when Ruby popped her head in the door and announced that it was time for him to leave for his lunch meeting. On his way out, he told her to take the rest of the day off. He said, “Maybe you should go shopping for a new dress.”

  “What do I need a new dress for?” Ruby asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe Isaac’s engagement party?”

  “Engagement party! You know something I don’t know?”

  “Never,” Michael said with a wink.

  “Has Isaac told you he’s going to ask Nadine to marry him? You tell me the truth, Michael Sykora.”

  “No, he has not. But he will.”

  Ruby’s face lit up with her smile. “Praise the Lord!”

  “You have to keep this between us for now,” Michael said. “Isaac will kill me and he’ll probably put off asking her just to spite the both of us.”

  “My lips are sealed,” Ruby said. She glanced down at herself, ran her hands over her hips, and said, “Maybe I should join Weight Watchers.”

  Michael tried to keep his expression neutral. But when Ruby looked up at him, they both burst out laughing. “You’re perfect the way you are,” Michael said. He kissed her cheek. “Now go shopping. I know how you are about finding the right outfit.”

  On his way to the restaurant to meet his client, Michael called Isaac. He was hoping to get Isaac to talk about Isabel’s murder case and, more specifically, what was going on with Lott. When Isaac answered, Michael said, “You got time for a game of pool later?”

  “I wish,” Isaac said. “But what I thought was going to be a pretty simple case has turned into a nightmare.”

  “You mean that murder case you caught the other day?”

  “Yeah. Turns out the girl made porn movies when she was a teenager. Then, when she got too old – you know, the ripe old age of 17 – looks like she might’ve been recruiting other kids to replace her. Probably for the boyfriend.”

  Michael was so intent on Isaac’s words that he almost ran into the back end of an SUV. He stepped hard on the break. “Shit.”

  “Yeah. So now I’m trying to build my case against this fuckhead for murdering his girlfriend. But I’ve got to drag it out and not tip the guy off because vice wants to nail him and his gang for making and distributing kiddie porn.”

  “Sounds like a big mess.”

  “A clusterfuck,” Isaac muttered.

  “How’d all this come out?”

  “Long story. Would’ve happened long time ago if the different departments would talk to each other.”

  Michael swung into the parking lot at the restaurant where he was meeting his client. As he pulled into a spot, he said, “I guess you won’t have much playtime for awhile.”

  “Nope.”

  “Good luck. Call me when you have a life again.”

  “Yeah,” Isaac said. “Hopefully before I retire.”

  Michael disconnected the call, then immediately grabbed his other phone and dialed Sean’s number. He said, “I need some information.”

  “Ahhh,” Sean replied in a slow drawl. “That number would be 411.”

  “I tried that. They gave me your number.”

  “Well then, I guess I need to start collecting my referral fees from them.”

  “Got time this afternoon?”

  “I am swimming in insanity,” Sean said. “Tonight. Eight o’clock.”

  “See you then.”

  Chapter 40

  The meeting with his client went well and Michael managed to escape by 1:30. He decided to stop to check on his father. The blazing sunshine was quickly giving way to heavy clouds, promising an afternoon storm. The weather seemed to be matching his mood.

  Michael steered his Porsche into his father’s driveway. He climbed out of the car, stopping short at the sight of a newly planted flower bed. A bloom of colors from plants he couldn’t name. Flowers hadn’t grown in this yard since he was small boy. Another oddity among the many that filled his life these days.

  His father met him at the door. John Sykora had once been a formidable man. Tall and muscular, with a voice that boomed and a stance that let you know he always held his ground. Standing there now, that same man was gaunt, eyes clouded with pain, his once sturdy frame slightly hunched and so much thinner. Still, his father smiled. And for a moment those blue eyes regained their shine.

  Mike!” John exclaimed. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”

  “Sorry I didn’t call first,” Michael said.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Come on in. Do you have time for coffee?”

  “Sure.” Michael st
epped inside the familiar home. A new smell, something with an antiseptic quality, permeated the air. He ignored it and followed his father into the kitchen. As John poured coffee, Michael said, “How are you feeling?”

  “Not too bad,” John replied.

  Michael took the coffee mug from his father and they sat at the table. Falling easily into comfortable conversation, they debated over who was the best pitcher in baseball. Michael didn’t care. He never had. But his father loved the sport and the topic held a familiar ease.

  John motioned to Michael’s mug. He said, “You want a refill?”

  “No thanks.”

  “Isaac stopped by,” John said. “He brought his girl. Nadine. Sweet lady.”

  “Yeah, she’s great.”

  “Nice to see him happy again.”

  Michael nodded. His father’s tone had grown tentative. Something was on his mind. Michael said, “Out with it, dad.”

  John chuckled. “It’s that obvious?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I’ve got something to tell you,” John said slowly. “And a couple favors to ask.”

  “Okay,” Michael replied just as slowly. A favor could be anything from money to helping with funeral arrangements. Michael didn’t want to discuss funeral arrangements right now. He fixed his gaze on his father and waited.

  “It’s about your sister,” John said. “If you ever find her, I’d like you to give her some things for me.”

  “Dad -”

  “I know you’re not looking for her. But maybe she’ll find you. Or maybe… Well, she might just show up at my funeral. That happens.”

  Michael swallowed a lump in his throat. He muttered, “Yeah, that happens.”

  “I wrote her a letter,” John continued. “I need her to know that I didn’t abandon her. Will you give her the letter? Please?”

  “Of course I will. But -”

  “It’s in the bottom drawer of my dresser. There’s also a shoebox there. It’s full of cards. I bought one for every birthday, every Christmas. I just didn’t know where to send them. She might not care. But I want her to have them.”

  “I’ll make sure she gets everything,” Michael said.

  “All my paperwork is in the safe. Life insurance, car title… all that. You remember the combination, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Good.”

  “Dad -”

  “No life support, Mike,” John said. “I want you to promise me that. Don’t let them stick tubes in me to keep me alive.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Good. Thank you. That’s it for the favors. Now one thing I want to tell you. Thought you should know before I go ahead and do it.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m going to sell the house.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I’m going to move to an apartment,” John said. “Something small.”

  “If you need help taking care of the place -”

  “It’s not that. I thought it would be better this way. You won’t have to deal with selling the place after I’m gone.”

  “You don’t need to worry about that,” Michael said.

  “You’d have to get rid of all the shit I’ve accumulated. Forty years of crap in this place. Makes no sense to leave you with that.”

  “I can handle it,” Michael said. “This is your home.”

  John shrugged. “An apartment will be fine. It doesn’t matter much.”

  Michael sighed, suddenly understanding. “You’re behind on the mortgage.”

  John started to object, then caught Michael’s eye and simply nodded. Michael said, “How much?”

  “I can’t afford to stay here,” John said. “I sell it, I can pay off what I owe and have some leftover to get me through.”

  “How much dad?”

  “We don’t need to go there.”

  “Yes we do. So either you tell me or I’ll go rip through your shit till I find the paperwork. Please don’t make me do that.”

  “Still as stubborn as always,” John said with a touch of a smile. “I had to take a second mortgage awhile back. I’ve missed a few payments. The bank will foreclose if I don’t get caught up. Better to sell it while I can.”

  “Give me the paperwork,” Michael said. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “No, I’m not asking you to do that.”

  “I know. I’m offering. I can afford it. This is your home. This is where you’ll stay. Don’t argue.”

  Their eyes met and John gave a little grin. He said, “You truly don’t have to do this.”

  “I know. I want to.”

  “Don’t know what I did to deserve a son like you.”

  Michael waved him off. “Get the paperwork, dad.”

  John shuffled out of the room, returning a few minutes later with an envelope. Michael took it and said, “I’ll go to the bank now. You need cash?”

  “No.”

  Michael frowned, pulled a 50 from his wallet and forced it into his father’s hand. “Don’t argue,” he said. “I’m too tired.”

  “Thank you,” John said softly.

  The emotion in his father’s eyes was more than Michael could deal with. He nodded, then turned away and headed for the door. As he pulled it open, John said, “You see my flowers?”

  “I sure did,” Michael said with a smile. “They look great but I was afraid you’d gone completely over the edge.”

  “I had a pretty young thing escorting me around the garden center, showing me what was easy to grow. Best damn hour I’ve spent in a long time!”

  “Good to know you’re still a dirty old man,” Michael said.

  John chuckled. “Some things will never change.”

  Chapter 41

  Michael took the money from his savings to cover what his father owed plus the next payment. Ideally he would have preferred to transfer enough funds from his offshore account to completely pay off his father’s house. Unfortunately, that kind of transaction would bring way too much attention.

  Once home, he filled Nicki in on what Isaac had told him. Nicki sat beside him on the couch. Her hair was damp from the shower and her skin glistened with lotion. His body reacted with desire, even as his brain focused on teen porn and murder.

  Nicki said, “Isabel never mentioned anything about doing porn. Are you sure?”

  “Isaac sounded convinced.”

  “And he thinks Lott was involved? That would make sense. He probably had his thumb over her for a very long time.”

  “Did Isabel ever talk about how she and Lott met?”

  “No,” Nicki said. “All she said was that he’d saved her from the streets. She really loved the bastard and wanted it to work.”

  Nicki went on to share a few details of her conversations with Isabel. Then she said, “I’ve been thinking…”

  “Uh-oh,” Michael said.

  “Don’t be giving me a hard time before you even hear me out.”

  “So sorry. The floor is yours.”

  “I could be bait to get Lott,” Nicki said.

  “What?”

  “I could call him, tell him I’m tired of hiding. That I want to meet somewhere, work things out somehow. I’ll pick a secluded spot and you could be hiding out, waiting for him.”

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “Why?”

  “Jesus, where do I begin?” Michael said, shaking his head. “First and foremost, I’d never use you as bait. That is way too dangerous.”

  “But -”

  “I almost lost you once. You think I’m going to chance that happening again?”

  “But that was my own fault.”

  “And I won’t chance the next time being my fault.”

  “I was just thinking it would be an easy way to get him alone,” Nicki said.

  “He wouldn’t come alone.”

  “Okay, so we’ll both have guns and -”

  “You have definitely lost your mind.”

  Nicki said, “Look, it isn’t
fair that you’re risking your life while I’m safely hidden away.”

  “We won’t even go there.”

  “I feel useless.”

  “Honey, you have never been useless,” Michael said through a grin.

  “Oh really?” Nicki replied, matching Michael’s playful tone.

  “You make great coffee.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “And you did my laundry.”

  “Is that all I’m good for?”

  Michael gazed at Nicki’s long tanned legs and wanted to tell her how having her in his house brought the place to life. How he struggled with keeping his emotional distance. Instead, he said, “And you are much better to look at than the TV screen. But you are also a distraction and I’ve got work to do before I go out.”

  Nicki rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

  Alone in front of his computer, Michael leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He spent a long time thinking of Christina. He could no longer remember the sound of her voice. But he was pretty sure she’d be telling him to get over it and move on.

  Chapter 42

  Sean dropped onto the seat opposite Michael. A barely audible huff escaped his tight jaw. His normally wide sparkling eyes were narrowed and heavy with irritation. Michael said, “Rough day?”

  “The whole world is fucking crazy,” Sean muttered.

  Michael nodded in agreement. “You want a shot of whiskey?”

  “A double,” Sean said.

  Michael went to the bar and ordered them each a double shot of Jack Daniels from Amber, the new tattooed bartender. Back at the table Sean wasted no time gulping his down in one swift swallow. Michael raised an eyebrow, held his own glass out. He said, “Another?”

  Sean shook his head. “I’m good now.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Freakin’ job I took,” Sean said. “This lady called me a few days ago. Wants her husband taken out. I tell her it’s better if I don’t know details. But she acts like I’m her priest and she needs to confess. I couldn’t shut her up. She tells me the husband walked out on her, took their baby. The baby’s name is Chelsea. She can’t go on without her baby. The divorce is pending but she’s terrified he’ll get permanent custody. He’s got the best lawyers, tons of money. Real sob story. And you know how I feel about hearing their damn stories.

  “So, fine, I take the job. She doesn’t want the guy taken out in front of the baby. I spent two days watching the house. The guy leaves in the morning. No kid. No sign of anyone else being at the house. This huge place, out on the water.

 

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