A Grave Peril

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A Grave Peril Page 18

by Wendy Roberts


  “You don’t know that.” Tracey shook her head. “Sounds to me like he wants you to hunker down and be safe, not go getting shot at trying to rescue his ass. Call that partner of his. You told me you were talking to some agent who worked with him. The pregnant one.”

  “I have been talking with her and even she is investigating this on the sly. Besides, she’s due to have a C-section any day. She’s not exactly going to be getting into shootouts with a drug cartel.”

  “Oh, and we are?” Tracey sputtered.

  “Not we and, hopefully, not me either.” I picked up the velvet jewelry box and cracked it open. My fingers shook a little as I plucked the emerald and diamond ring from its resting place. “I’m hoping that Faith will help us find Garrett.” The words cracked as they left my throat.

  “You’re going to use it for pendulum dowsing.” Tracey straightened. “That could work, right? I mean you said before that kind of dowsing only works for you if you’re using an object that’s important to them and if you’re really connected to the person.”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged. “But I’m not really connected to Faith, am I?” I blew out a breath. “I just hope our mutual connection to Garrett will be enough.”

  I unclasped the necklace around my own neck, slid my dad’s wedding ring off the chain and tucked it into a small pocket inside my backpack. Then I threaded Faith’s wedding ring onto the chain and redid the clasp. With a deep breath I sat down facing south and began.

  Holding the chain up above the small round table, I gently stilled it with my fingers and waited until it no longer moved.

  “Show me your yes,” I whispered.

  The ring began to move back and forth slowly in a pendulum fashion from east to west. At first the movement was gentle and small but within a few seconds the left to right movement became more sure and deliberate. I could hear Tracey’s breath coming hard and fast with amazement. I stopped the swaying ring and made it motionless once again.

  “Show me your no.”

  The ring immediately swung away from me and then toward me, back and forth, north and south, increasing its momentum with every sway.

  “Thank you.”

  Once again, I stopped the ring with my hand. I sucked in a deep breath through my nose and let it out slowly through my mouth.

  “Is Garrett alive?” I choked on the words and bit my lip as I waited for the response.

  Immediately the ring swung left to right indicating a yes, and a small whimper left my throat. Tracey reached and put a comforting hand on my shoulder as I stopped the ring.

  “Can you help me find him?” I asked.

  Again, the ring moved widely from east to west in a yes motion. A jagged breath that was half sob escaped my lips. I took the ring and held it close to my chest.

  “You can only ask it yes and no, right?” Tracey tapped the table with her finger. “How are you ever going to find him that way?”

  “I was doing some research before you came.” I took out my phone and opened the list I made. “There are a number of locations that are connected to Sweet Pea Nursery, Mateo Flores and Flash Imports. They have warehouses, shipping containers, delivery locations, a boat...” I scrolled down the list. “And then there’s all the staff. I’ve checked a lot of their social media pages and many of them have cottages and some even own acreage. For example, a woman named Josephine is friends with Sid Klein and Jerry Mayer on social media and there’s a Josephine who works for both Sweet Pea Nursery and Flash Imports and lives in Tacoma right near a shipping container lot also connected to Mateo Flores.”

  “You’re going to go through every single place on that list and ask the ring—um, Faith—to tell you whether Garrett’s there?”

  “Yes.” I nodded solemnly. “And, if I have to, I’ll make another list of a hundred more places or drag out a map and start friggin’ listing every city and town in Washington State.”

  “In that case...” Tracey got to her feet. “Give me your room key. I’m going to go get us some coffee.”

  “There’s a coffee machine in the breakfast room off the lobby.”

  “No, thanks. I’m going to get us a couple real coffees.”

  After she left the room I found myself talking to the ring as if it were Faith.

  “I realize you and your son died when you were hit by a drunk driver,” I whispered. “I know that if you and your son were still here, Garrett would be a happy family man. A husband. A father. And, no doubt, damn good at both. Now he’s with me, a weirdo dowsing girl over twenty years younger who doesn’t want marriage and is scared to death of the idea of having kids. I don’t know why I’m telling you this except to say that I love him with my whole heart and, well, he loves me too. Maybe not as much as he loved you and his son because that must’ve been the world. Anyway...” I sighed as I clutched the ring tight in my hand. “I know you might, on some level, wish he was with you...wherever you are.” I cleared my throat. “So, I want to say thank you so much for anything you can do to help me find him.”

  The ring began to feel quite warm in my hand as I held it up to begin asking more questions.

  When Tracey returned to the room about a half hour later, she placed a paper coffee cup on the table in front of me. I took a sip and thanked her.

  “How’s it going?”

  “So far not great but I’m only halfway through my list.”

  After another sip from the coffee I continued using the ring as a form of divination, hoping for a small miracle. I kept asking Faith my yes and no questions regarding locations and I was beginning to lose hope that the position was on my list. Faith, via the ring, also appeared to be getting impatient. When I asked about the Port of Tacoma, instead of swinging like a pendulum, the ring remained completely still.

  “Is Garrett at the Port of Tacoma?” I repeated but, still, the ring did not move.

  “Is that where the drug cartel is bringing in the heroin?” Tracey asked. “You think they’d bring him there? Why?”

  “I suspect that the only reason they have for keeping Garrett alive, is to get him to tell them when the FBI suspects the next big drug haul is arriving, so they can change it to another time.”

  I also believed that if he didn’t give them what they wanted, they’d kill him in a heartbeat. Probably they’d do that anyway, just as soon as they got what they wanted cleared through the port.

  Again, I put out the question of whether Garrett was at the Port of Tacoma and I frowned at the ring as it hung unmoving suspended from the chain.

  “That’s a yes or no question, right? I mean he’s either there, or he’s not so why is there no response?” Tracey slurped noisily from her coffee. “Maybe she doesn’t know. After all, she’s dead. How much can a dead person know?”

  “You’re not helping.” I frowned at her. An idea occurred to me and I carefully reworded my question.

  “Is Garrett near the Port of Tacoma?”

  The ring immediately swung wildly to indicate a yes and I squealed with happiness.

  “Is he in the city of Tacoma?”

  Again, the pendulum answered affirmatively.

  “Let’s go.” I got to my feet.

  “Now? To Tacoma?” Tracey got hurriedly to her feet as well. “But we don’t even know where to go once we’re there!”

  “You’re driving and I’m going to keep asking questions until we’re there.”

  “Are you sure? You hate my driving.” Tracey hobbled around, helping me gather up my belongings. “Do we have to bring him?” She nodded her chin toward Wookie.

  “I’m checking out,” I said. “I’m not going to leave my boy behind.”

  I snapped a leash on his collar and Wookie happily bustled past Tracey for the door. Tracey took a leap back when he approached but didn’t scream or faint, which was a good sign. I suggested we load everything into her vehicle and dr
op off my rental car. She wasn’t impressed about having Wookie in her back seat and grumbled something about him taking a chunk out of the back of her neck while she was driving on the highway.

  “He’s not a vampire,” I told her impatiently.

  “Yeah, maybe a werewolf though.”

  I left the car in the lot and used the key drop so I didn’t have to get into a long conversation about it. Then I climbed into Tracey’s car, putting my pack with the two guns and dowsing rods at my feet. I clutched Faith’s ring, still on the chain, tightly in my fist. I was counting on narrowing down Garrett’s location as we drove.

  “Your job is to drive as fast as you can without getting a ticket and without getting us killed.” I buckled up.

  “Sure. No pressure at all,” she muttered as she accelerated down the highway.

  A couple times I had to tell her it wasn’t necessary to ride another car’s ass so close we were practically passengers in their back seat.

  “It’s not tailgating if I’m just encouraging them to drive in the slow lane,” she explained.

  It was exactly that kind of logic that made me not a fan of her driving. When we got close to the ports in Tacoma, I asked her to pull over so I could spend some time pendulum dowsing. I’d tried asking questions along the way but was no closer to finding out where Garrett was being held.

  Tracey put gas in her car while I dangled the ring over my lap and asked more questions. Unfortunately, there was either no movement from the ring, or it was a negative response.

  “So where are we headed?” Tracey asked when she climbed back in the car.

  “I’m not sure.” I scratched my head and directed her to pull over to a corner of the parking lot, so I could take Wookie out to pee. “I’ve been able to find out that Garrett is not right in the port, but he is somewhere in this area. That could be anywhere here. There’s no way I can go through every stupid road in a sixty-mile radius.”

  As I walked Wookie along the greenbelt next to the gas station something occurred to me and I did a little more research on my phone.

  “What about those lots where they store the containers that come off the ships?” I asked Tracey as Wookie hopped back into the car. “Hot damn.” I leaned in the car and held up my phone so that Tracey could see what had caught my attention. “Flash Imports has a lot in East Tacoma where they sell, rent and provide storage for sea cans.”

  “Sea cans?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Those giant shipping containers and crates that carry cargo. That would be the connection. That’s why Flores needed Flash Imports. We should check the place out.”

  “Let’s go,” she said.

  “I’m driving,” I told her, walking around to the driver’s side. “Your turn to ride shotgun.”

  “Don’t say shotgun when you have guns in your backpack,” Tracey said as she slid into the passenger seat. “Do you want me to put your pack in the back seat?”

  “Um...” I started the car and just shook my head. “I’d feel better keeping all that within arm’s length.”

  Tracey hoisted my unzipped backpack onto her lap and took out a granola bar and water bottle for herself. When a gun and my dowsing rods tumbled onto the floor at her feet she looked revolted at the idea of picking up either.

  “Just leave them,” I suggested.

  I clasped the necklace around my neck with Faith’s ring resting on my chest. My stomach was in knots. Tracey’s car didn’t have a GPS, so I entered the address of the Flash Imports lot into my phone and followed the instructions. Our destination was only a couple miles from our current location. The street was mostly commercial lots. I slowed as I came upon the one with chain-link fencing and a small yellow sign with the broken lightening rod that was Flash Imports’ logo. Abruptly I accelerated past the driveway.

  “Wait!” Tracey whipped her head around. “Isn’t that it? Wasn’t that Garrett getting out of the car?”

  “Yes!” As we’d gone by I’d seen Mateo Flores yanking Garrett out of the black Escalade in the driveway.

  I pulled over when the street rounded a bend and we were out of sight. My breath was coming hard and fast.

  “I don’t know what to do! We can’t just waltz in there with our guns. Those guys are all armed to the teeth.”

  “It’s time to call in the Agent Powel chick. Even a pregnant FBI agent is better than just us,” Tracey said.

  I had to agree. I dialed Powel’s number and listened to it ring before it finally went to voicemail. “Call me as soon as you can. It’s urgent.”

  “So, I guess we wait?” Tracey asked.

  I nodded but I hated the idea. I drummed my fingers nervously on the steering wheel. After five minutes staring at my phone I looked at Tracey.

  “I can’t just sit here. Maybe we should call the local police.” I bit my lower lip. “But if a bunch of uniforms arrive with sirens blaring that could cause Flores and his guys to panic and kill Garrett and Sid.”

  “But we can’t rescue Garrett on our own!”

  “Maybe we can.” I turned to face her as an idea percolated in my mind. “The delivery must be happening tonight. There is no other reason to bring them here. I’m guessing this is the place they’ll store the heroin until it’s moved to the streets. We’re only a few miles from the port where it’ll come in. The entire reason to keep Garrett and Sid around is to make sure that delivery clears the port and there’s no interference from the FBI to stop it.”

  “I can’t see Garrett helping these cartel guys bring heroin into the country.” Tracey shook her head. “He has no reason to do that!”

  “He told me he’s doing this for Faith.” My hand went briefly to her ring around my neck. “If they’ve threatened to kill Sid if he doesn’t cooperate, that would be enough.”

  “And blowing up your car,” Tracey whispered. “Sid isn’t the only one they’ve told Garrett they’ll hurt.”

  I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat. “But after the delivery is made tonight, they won’t have any reason to keep him alive.”

  “What can we do?”

  “Give me a second.” I squeezed my eyes shut while I thought it through. Finally, I turned to look at Tracey. “First, you need to drive back the way we came. They won’t know you or your car so I’m just going to hunker down in the passenger seat until we’ve gone by. Drive slow enough that you can get a look at how many people you can see. Let me know once we’re past. Then I want you to drive onto the main road and take a left onto the next street over. We’ll look to park the car at one of the businesses that back onto Flash Imports’ lot. Hopefully we can see what’s going on from there.”

  We switched positions so that Tracey was behind the wheel. I lowered the passenger seat to a reclining position and pulled my ball cap over my face as Tracey drove past slowly enough that she could look over but not so leisurely as to draw attention.

  “There were a couple guys leaning against the Escalade,” Tracey said. “Looked like armed muscle. There are so many rows of those metal containers that I couldn’t tell if there are more guys between them.”

  I pulled my seat up once we were past. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into this,” I said as she drove on the main road and then took a left one street over from the Flash Import lot. “Find a place on this street that backs onto that lot and then leave me. I know you’re going to hate this, but I’m going to ask you to take Wookie with you.”

  “No.”

  “I know you hate dogs, but I need both of you to be safe.” I cleared my throat and added firmly, “Get Craig to help you with Wookie. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind and—”

  “It’s not the dog.” She glanced over her shoulder at Wookie. “Not just the dog. I’m not leaving you. I don’t know what kind of crazy thing you’re going to do, but I’m here for you. I can be your getaway driver, if nothing else.”

  I
laughed nervously and pointed to a shuttered business up ahead. “That place looks perfect. It’s shut down, so we shouldn’t encounter any people coming and going from work. If we can park around back, we might be able to see into the Flash Import lot.”

  Tracey pulled around back of the small warehouse building, and sure enough the chain-link fence behind was shared between this closed company and Flash Imports. We had a clear view of the many rows of sea cans, and a wide aisle down the center of the rows allowed a view of the one-story office building where I suspected they were holding Sid and Garrett.

  “Park over there.” I pointed, and Tracey pulled the car behind an overflowing dumpster.

  Since the business had been closed, people had taken to dumping debris behind the closed business. The stack of bagged trash and old mattresses would provide perfect cover. The Flash Imports lot held maybe fifty sea can storage crates stacked two or three high. On the other side of the chain-link fencing, in the far corner of Flash Imports’ lot, were a few expensive sports cars covered in tarps. That article I read said Mateo Flores was known to give expensive sports cars to people working with him. Like Jerry Mayer’s Jaguar. Also like the black Lamborghini in Sid’s garage. In the corner of the lot I could just make out the hood of a red Ferrari where the tarp had slipped up. The cars were parked neatly in a row alongside the fence that separated us.

  “We passed a hardware store around the corner,” I told Tracey as I climbed out of the car and took Wookie from the back seat. “Go and pick up some bolt cutters, kerosene and a couple lighters.”

  “What are you going to use that stuff for?”

  “A distraction.” My stomach rolled with tension. “Please hurry.”

  As she pulled away, I slung my pack over one shoulder and led Wookie to the farthest corner behind the dumpster. He lifted his leg and marked his territory, then just looked up at me, panting happily as if this was the most natural thing in the world to be hiding behind a dilapidated building and sneaking behind a dumpster. I gave him a chew treat and he plopped himself down on the asphalt to gnaw happily on it.

 

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