by D D Loomis
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Only once so far. C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”
The rest of the day passed uneventfully with Dave and me deep into the information my partners had gathered on Crosby and Franks.
* * *
Dave walked into my office, a puzzled look on his face. “What’s this about putting me on the payroll?”
“Payroll?” I asked, eyebrows raising.
“Alice said she needed my bank account number to start making deposits in it. Said it was for work I was doing with you guys.”
I nodded. “Oh, right. We need to make sure and have you on contract with us, so you’re covered in our medical insurance. Plus, for tax purposes, it’s good to have another person for when we get bonuses for jobs. Like the last one you helped us with. Stands to reason you should get paid for helping us.”
“Makes sense.” He looked at my desk. “That the map you been waiting for?”
I bent over the desk, tapping on the map of Anacortes Island. “Even with this aerial map it’s easy to see this place has more protection than the normal home,” I said.
Dave sat and leaned back, hands behind his head. “You’re right. We need to do a soft recon. Plus find out what they’ve got for security inside the place, too.”
I sat down. “You got any skills at this kind of thing?”
He stared at the ceiling, a thoughtful frown gathering. “Been awhile, but yes, I can still creep around pretty good.”
I nodded. He’d shown his mettle up at Wildacres when sneaking up undetected on the alert crook in the car. “Let’s put together a plan for Crosby’s compound.”
He leaned forward, staring at the map again. “I sure like the way her place is situated out among the islands in Puget Sound. Makes for a multitude of escape routes if needed.”
I folded up the map, and drew another folder from the stack to my left. “Another thing: We need an up-to-date picture of her.” According to the information we had, Marianne Crosby had started out her brushes with the law over 30 years ago. She’d made a pain of herself by gathering several dozen friends together and conducting a protest on the steps of the Washington State capitol building, stumping for looser regulations on the use of pot. After getting physical with the police when they tried to break up her gathering, the cops threw her in the same cell as a group of particularly nasty hookers. A night of hell ensued for the innocent young woman.
She had to spend some time in the hospital recovering from the rough treatment she’d received, and vowed to have all of them arrested for what they’d done. That earned her a face full of acid. The doctors managed to save one eye, but she had been horribly disfigured.
Dave flicked open the second file concerning Marianne. “She turned into a monster after that. Hunted down all the prostitutes who’d been in the cell with her that night, and according to sources killed them herself.”
“That’s probably why no pictures since then,” I said.
“Right. Became a pretty good drug dealer, too. Didn’t hurt her reputation any that she apparently has a ruthless streak to go along with her looks.”
The intercom chimed. “Francis, you got a call on line two. Says it’s urgent,” Alice said.
I hurriedly picked up, wondering what Lenny had run into now. “Yes?”
“Francis, how you been’? This is Phil.”
My mind did a flip as it moved back in time. The only Phil I’d known had been–“Phil? Phil Conway, is this really you?”
“Long time, my friend. I heard you retired from the biz awhile back, but thought you might need some information I just came up with. Glad I kept your number when you boys moved west.”
In past years, right after getting out of the Army, I’d used Phil’s help gathering information to set up burglaries and keep abreast of what happened in the criminal world. He’d been my best source. “Information?”
“Yessir, and I’d classify this particular data as life-changing, if you get my meaning. Enough so that I thought you’d better get down here and see it for yourself. It’s a level five grade of information.”
I stiffened at that. Back when he’d gathered information for me and others in the criminal world, he’d classified his data from one to five–with five meaning very dangerous. Especially if the word “life changing” was used in the conversation. “You still live at the same place?”
“That I do. When can I expect you?”
“I’ll try to be there tomorrow afternoon. That soon enough?”
“You bet. I’ll let you decide how much this information is worth. Give me a call just before you get here, would you?”
I stared at the receiver after he’d hung up, mind racing. “Dave, could you get with Tony and Marty to plan out the first recon of Crosby’s place? Mainly look at planting surveillance equipment the first trip, then …” I continued on for several minutes, pausing long enough to ask Alice to buy plane tickets. Hell, I wasn’t looking forward to another trip. Especially this one.
* * *
By early afternoon the next day, I was entering the outskirts of Columbia, South Carolina. The drive from the Charlotte airport had been two hours of boredom, broken up by a brief thunderstorm. At least I’d slept well on the plane this time. Finally remembered my earplugs. The golf course where Phil lived was south of town. Within minutes I was wheeling onto Sawgrass Court, and stopped at the seventh house on the street.
A man in his seventies was sitting in front of his garage, soaking up the sun. He grunted out of his chair, favoring both knees as he stepped forward. “Light and set, Mister Baker. I got some sweet tea coolin’ in the fridge.”
I settled back in the canvas chair, feet propped up on a settee and a glass of iced tea in hand. I toasted him with my glass. “Thanks for the tea, Phil. It’s delicious.”
Phil settled a Panama hat on his nearly-bald head, and picked up his frosted glass. “No problem, I assure you. Glad you made it so fast. I apologize for the speed with which we needed to meet, but I think you’ll find it’s worth it.”
I looked around. “You by yourself today? Last time I think there were a couple grand kids wandering around.” He took a long sip of tea. A touch of unease made me glance around the cul-de-sac.
“My wife is visitin’ her sister awhile, so no grandkids today. I thought it best we have this meeting by ourselves.” He bent down and picked up a large envelope next to his chair. “It came to my attention a few days ago you were bein’ looked for by some bad folks. I think you’ll find this information helpful.”
I leafed through the documents in the folder, nodding. “I knew Willie was after me, just didn’t know what he was willing to pay. Thirty thousand’s quite a bit to bring me in.”
“The interestin’ part is that yesterday it changed from capture to kill. Even more important, is the reaction. None of the normal hunters are interested. Not only because Mister Franks seems to have dropped off the face of the earth, but because other players have entered the arena, and still want you in their grip-but alive.”
A quick re-shuffle of the documents and I put them away. “You mean someone like Ms. Crosby?”
Phil looked away, taking a long pull on his tea. “Could be. It could also be that Crosby made some veiled threats to certain people to flush you out of the woodwork so her hounds could chase you down.” He glanced back. “There’s a rumor floating around that says Crosby came up with your name a couple days ago, and immediately started lookin’ into your past activities, to see if you could be found that way.” He glanced at the flower bed next to my chair and back at me.
I scooted around to reach the briefcase I’d brought with me. “You think she might have information about T&M Security?”
“Don’t think so. Not yet, at least. ‘Nother couple days, and I’d say most probably.” He took another drink and cocked an eye at me. “From what I gathered, they
thought you was still in the Carolinas.”
Two envelopes made their way from my briefcase and into the flowerbed next to my chair, weighted down with ten grand each. The small pistol that had been nestled there disappeared into my case. Phil gave a small nod to acknowledge he’d seen. “They get around to offering you a reward for finding me?”
“Yep. Offered twenty-five grand for information. And would let me finish my plans to quietly retire in Florida.”
“Good. Hope you make it, man.” I pointed my chin to the left. “They in that blue Kia at the end of the street?”
“And the white Hyundai in the driveway next to it.”
“Who lives in the house they parked next to?”
“Willis. Carl Willis.”
I took out my cell phone, and dialed 9-1-1. “You be okay after I take off?”
He nodded. “Glad you remembered the old danger code.”
“9-1-1, can I help you?”
“Yes’m, you can,” I said in a drawl. “I live at 149 Sawgrass Court, an’ there’s been two cars in my driveway for almost an hour. I don’t know who they are, an’ I’m scared to go out. Could you get someone here to check ‘em out? I’m Carl Willis.” I hung up before she could ask anything else. Good thing I had a secure phone, so it couldn’t be traced.
Three minutes later two cop cars drifted down the street, effectively blocking the two vehicles while police got out and approached the occupants. I stood, offering my hand to Phil. “Stay safe, man.”
He took my hand and gave it a squeeze, tears in his eyes. “You, too. An’ I’m sorry as hell ‘bout this.”
I gave him a wink and moseyed towards my car. “Don’t be. Wasn’t your fault they’re after me.” I waved as I got in. Seconds later I wheeled out of the culdesac. A quick call to T&M had Alice on the line within seconds.
“T&M Security, Alice speaking.”
“Hey, Babe. What’re you doing in the office? I thought Marty wanted you to rest more.”
“Francis, you’re so full of crap, just like usual. You men think when a woman’s pregnant she’s suddenly made out of glass or something.”
I laughed, mood lightening. “Speaking of men, where’s yours? I’ve got some news to pass on.”
“He’s right here. Take care, Francis.”
After a couple clicks, Marty’s deep voice came on the line. “Good timin’ Francis. I was just about to head out the door. What’s up?”
“Had a few hiccups and burps raise their ugly heads. Like I thought, things are getting nasty. I’ll be back soon as I can work myself clear of this bunch around here. Time to go to code red.”
“Did you just say code red?”
“That I did. Crosby will soon know about you guys, if she doesn’t already. Need to fort up until we work out a plan to remove the threat.”
“We’re pretty close to finalizing one. Dave’s a whiz at this stuff, by the way. Anything we can do to help you from this end?”
“Nope. I’ll call again once I get in the clear. Be safe, Marty.”
“You too, brother.” The line went dead.
It rained buckets during my drive to Augusta, then cleared when halfway there. I’d felt driving directly back to Charlotte might not be a good idea for someone on the run. Yesterday, when Phil had given me the old Code Five signal, I’d known just what to do. Having someone who’d been no more than an acquaintance over the years risk their life by letting me know I was heading into a bear trap only made me more willing to do so. At least I’d been able to prepare for it. This kind of thing always got my juices flowing, same as when I planned and executed a burglary. Like any addiction, someday I’d pay for taking so many chances. Hopefully not with my life.
I took the second exit after entering Georgia, keeping a close eye to the rear. My hands tightened on the wheel when I recognized two cars that looked suspiciously like the ones from Phil’s place. Damn, they’d gotten away from the cops sooner than I hoped. It looked like they’d been fast enough to keep tabs on me. Tamping down a sudden urge to floor it, I sedately wheeled into a McDonalds lot across from the Carolina National Bank. Both cars passed by, seemingly headed into Augusta proper. After a two minute wait just in case they swung back, I got out and proceeded into the restaurant, hoping my jumpiness wasn’t too noticeable.
Coffee helped calm me down while I eyeballed the bank across the street. Nothing out of the ordinary far as the bank was concerned, or with Garner’s, the electronics store next to it. So far, no sign of the two cars coming back. Hopefully, I’d been mistaken about them. Doubtful, but one could hope. I headed back for my car.
A few minutes later I entered the electronics store. Time for a new plan. I cruised the aisles, snatching up a shoulder bag before heading to the cashier.
Back at my car, I loaded the satchel with my 11-inch computer and change of underwear. I’d packed light for this trip. Since the bank’s side entrance was only a few steps away, I walked inside, satchel over my shoulder and briefcase in hand. Needed to get some cash. Just as well do that now while I could. I looked around, noting how small a bank it was. Two offices to the side, two tellers.
A lady minced from one of the offices, balanced on six-inch heels. “Good afternoon. Is there anything I can help you with?”
I nodded a greeting, imagining how sore her feet must be at the end of the day with those stilts on. “No, Ma’am. Here to make a withdrawal.”
She pointed to a small kiosk on the left. “Just fill out a slip, and one of the ladies will be glad to assist you.” She gave a forced smile and strolled to her office.
Once the form was filled out, I approached one of the tellers. “Hi, I’d like to make a withdrawal, please.”
Just before exiting I spotted the white Hyundai coasting by. It was headed towards the other side of the bank, where my car was parked. My pulse accelerated and I veered left, taking the front exit. I moved quickly towards the shopping center that sprawled in front of me a hundred yards away. Time to mingle.
Seconds after reaching the sidewalk in front of the first store, I saw both the Hyundai and Kia come around either side of the bank. Two guys were in each vehicle, their heads turning as they searched. Without hesitation I entered the nearest store, a Big Lots, and began looking around. Lots of aisles, piled high with all kinds of stuff, to include men’s shirts on the far right. Within moments I’d snagged an extra-large dark red tee-shirt with a University of South Carolina logo on its back. A Braves baseball cap plus sunglasses rounded out my purchases. Before hitting the street I slipped the shirt and glasses on, closely followed by the hat.
I swaggered out of the store, eyes moving behind my shades. There, on the left. Both cars had parked less than a hundred feet away, at the far edge of the shopping center. All four guys were already on the sidewalk, headed my way. Casually as I could, I turned away from them and slipped through the growing crowd. Thankfully they were taking their time, stopping at each store front. Three would enter, while one would keep an eye open out front. This gave me time to put some distance between us. I paused long enough to get a pinch of dirt from a large pot full of flowers, and rubbed it lightly on my face. A glance in a storefront showed a grimy-faced punk staring back. I took the handful of papers from my briefcase, putting them in the satchel. Nothing else of importance in it now. The case went behind the pot.
After a few minutes watching their search pattern, I saw a gap in the operation. When three of them peeled off into a Dollar store, I ambled back towards the one still outside. His eyes swept over me without recognition, easing a knot in my stomach. I timed my approach, mingling with a clot of shoppers hustling by when I brushed against him.
Moments later I rounded a corner and paused, checking out what I’d lifted. A wallet and set of keys. One of the keys had a Hyundai logo stamped on it. Damn, lucked out that time. Didn’t much care for Kias. Boosting two items from someone at once
was extremely difficult, but he’d held still long enough for the pick. And to get a set of keys for one of the cars used to tail me was outstanding. I hurried towards the parking lot and got into my newest car, a white Hyundai. I started it while scoping out where my stalkers were. Still moving away, almost out of sight. Time to boogie.
* * *
Once back on I-20 and headed for Columbia, I set the cruise control on the speed limit and zoned out until exit 22, where I got off and pulled into a Burger King. Didn’t want to make a habit eating at these joints, but they were handy when you needed a cup of coffee. Before going in, I gave the car a thorough going-over. A nine millimeter Glock in the glove box was a pleasant bonus, as were the two extra clips for it. There was also a silencer already on the barrel.
The tremors started in my hands, working to my body. Had to get away from these assholes. I forced my hands to still and leaned back, willing myself to relax. I riffled through the wallet I’d lifted, scooping a fistful of hundreds and twenties out of it. There were also two charge cards, which disappeared out the window. An embossed I.D. card stopped me cold. Officer Tyrone Whaley of the Columbia Police Department.
Shit.
A last minute thought made me take the exit into the town of Lexington just west of Columbia. I got directions at a local mini-mart to the Sheriff’s Department. Minutes later I nosed into a parking spot on the side of their building. A bored looking officer was behind the desk when I entered. “Hi, are you the one I’d report to about my car being stolen?”
It took fifteen minutes to fill out the paperwork, explaining my rental car was stolen while shopping at the local mall just down the street. I piled back into the Hyundai, intent on putting some miles on the road before stopping for the night. I yawned, fighting through exhaustion. Only eight p.m., and ready to sleep already. Another hour and I’d stop.
