That Way Lies Madness: A Florida Action Adventure Novel (Scott Jarvis Private Investigator Book 8)

by Scott Cook

  “Is she alive?”

  He nodded, “Very much so… although how long that lasts, for either of you, is problematic.”

  I folded my arms across my chest but said nothing. He only shook his head and pointed with my gun to a chair near the vanity alcove off the bedroom. I went over and sat.

  He then pulled out a pair of handcuffs and cuffed me to the arm of the chair. He patted my head and then went out of the room. I heard him clomping down the stairs.

  “You two all right?” I asked Paul and Marie.

  They both made muted noises that sounded angry but they nodded their heads. It was dark in the room, but enough light filtered in through the windows so that I could see.

  “I’ll figure something out,” I told them confidently, although I had no idea what.

  Suddenly the two nightstand lamps came on. Shade had gone down and reset the electrical switch, obviously.

  A minute later, he strolled into the room grinning. He pulled out a smart phone and placed a small device over his mouth.

  “Now, Lisa,” The device distorted his voice as it had when he’d talked to us before. “I’m gonna make a call. If you so much as speak a single word, I’ll put a bullet in Marie Franco’s head, understand?”

  I nodded. I certainly believed him. He’d done more than enough crazy shit by now so that I wouldn’t take any threat he made lightly.

  He dialed and held the phone flat in his hand so we could hear.

  “Good evening, Shade,” It was Scott’s voice and it sounded tight.

  Shade glared over at me and then at the Francos, “Very good, my worthy opponent. Enjoying your stay with the family? How was George’s?”

  They exchanged a few shots at each other and then Scott interrupted.

  “Give it a rest. The game is up. Why don’t you turn off that silly Spencer’s toy and let’s just talk plain, Bill.”

  The look on Shade’s face was priceless. His handsome Italian features, he could’ve been Spanish too, I guess, but I didn’t think so, blanched. Then I realized that Scott had said a name.

  Bill? It couldn’t be, could it?

  Shade, or Bill… Billy Garelli, Scott’s dead friend? Holy shitballs…! Anyway, I could see a vein bulging in his forehead and his pallor began to redden. He seemed to get himself under control but only just.

  “Oh, you think you figured it out? Oh, how wrong—“ Shade tried to play it off.

  Bill lowered the voice thingy and shrugged. They talked for a few moments and then Bill said that Scott shouldn’t try anything, because he had me. Then Scott said something that chilled me, and I think it chilled Bill, too. Because when he said it, Bill’s calm seemed to evaporate again.

  “And I have Samantha, Bill.”

  They exchanged a few more words. When Scott told Bill to consider his options and then hung up, Bill began to sweat. I think he was really worried. For the first time, and I have to admit it felt good, it seemed as if the tables were really turned on Shade.

  He looked nervous. He could bluster and plot and scheme and do all sorts of things, yet I think he knew how formidable Scott really was. Not only by himself, but because of the people he knew. Whatever had happened to this man to make him go from cop to criminal nutjob, it had isolated him except for a few scumbags. On the other hand, Scott’s move away from police officer had strengthened his position in the world. Not only did he still know plenty of cops, he also knew powerful mobsters, people of means and even government agents.

  While I was still worried for myself as well as the other three hostages, only two of which I’d seen yet, I felt a surge of hope, too. Yes, Scott was twelve hundred miles away, but the force of his personality had completely unnerved this madman in a matter of seconds.

  “He’s coming for you, Bill,” I said flatly. “You know it and I know it. You’re all alone and he has a network. Why don’t you just stop this now? Let everybody go. Drive off into the night and disappear.”

  He looked at me for a long moment. I thought he might actually be considering it. Then he smiled and the look in his eyes told me everything.

  They say the eyes are the window to the soul… if that’s true, then I was looking not into an empty room but a room that had been devastated by something terrible. A lot shone in those eyes. Rage, maybe insanity… but mostly a deep seeded pain that I didn’t think I wanted to know about.

  “He’s a day late and a dollar short, babe,” He said finally. “It is time to get going, though.”

  “Going?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I’ve got a plane to catch and accounts to get in order,” Shade said… or Bill really… I’d have to get used to that. “And you and the lovely Cynthia are my insurance policy.”

  “I don’t suppose it’s worth asking where we’re going.” I asked.

  “South,” He said. “About as far south as you can get in a vehicle.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then I finish what I started,” he said vaguely. “I’m going to uncuff you now. You’re going to be a good girl or—“

  “Yeah, yeah,” I grumped. “Or you’ll shoot me.”

  He chuckled as he undid the cuff from the chair and my wrist, “Not right away, beautiful. Not right away… but you see, I’ve always felt that the person who really suffers from their deeds isn’t always the one who did them. Good people, at any rate… and even sometimes bad… suffer far worse when another has to pay for their transgressions. You gettin’ me?”

  “If I try to get away, you’ll hurt Cynthia, Paul or Marie,” I almost couldn’t say through my clenched teeth.

  Bill touched a finger to his temple and grinned at me, “Smart girl. I like that. Except you’re only partially right.”

  Before I could figure out what he meant, Bill turned toward the bed and raised his right hand, which held Scott’s Beretta Tomcat .32.

  “No!” I shouted. In spite of what Bill had just said, I lunged forward and slammed into him.

  As I said, Bill was about three inches taller than me, maybe five foot seven. Yet he was broad in the shoulders. Almost as broad as Scott was. This gave him a lot of upper body strength and good balance. So when I hit him, I didn’t knock him over or even spoil his aim by much.

  Scott had taught me to box, but I didn’t have the upper body strength to fight a man fifty pounds or more heavier than me. However, as a kickboxer, I had very strong legs, which is how I should’ve attacked Bill. Instead, I’d had no time to think and just reacted. It might have helped, but not enough.

  Two shots rang out. Although the .32 is a small gun, it’s pretty loud in an enclosed room. And the effects at close range can be deadly.

  I heard Marie’s muffled scream even as I saw two red splotches appear on the front of Paul Franco’s blue bathrobe. His body jerked and his head whipped back and smacked the headboard. He didn’t’ fall over though, only stared at Bill with hatred.

  “That’ll keep these two busy for a while,” Bill said nonchalantly. As if he’d just handed them a Rubik’s Cube or something.

  “Jesus!” I shouted. “You didn’t have to shoot him!”

  Bill turned to me and put the barrel of the small gun against my left breast, “What’d I just tell you about fuckin’ with me? Well… I guess I can give you a pass on this one. Surprise and all.”

  “This funny to you?” I asked in disbelief.

  He shrugged, “Kind of. I mean, think about it… you’re so worried about this piece of shit. This strip club owner, pimp, drug dealer… and oh yeah, the guy who had your boyfriend fuckin’ shot last year! Ha, ha, haaaaa… that is funny.”

  I stared into those fucked up eyes. I hoped that my anger would make a difference somehow, even though I knew it wouldn’t, “He’s helpless and tied up. You… coward.”

  Bill scoffed, “She’ll get out eventually. Couple of hours on her own and that feisty lady will get loose. Then she can call an ambulance… if the scum suckin’ mobbed up piece of dog shit is still breathin’.”

  His Rhod
e Island accent was getting thicker the more he talked. The more agitated he seemed to get, the more it came out. It was always there, just thicker when he was wound up. Scott was like that too, although more subtle. His accent only came out occasionally, unless he was riled up, too.

  “Okay then!” Bill announced cheerfully. “Let’s hit the road, we’ve got miles to go before we sleep.”

  Parked in the driveway was Paul’s black Escalade . The huge SUV had tinted windows that reflected the street lights so that I couldn’t see in.

  Bill led me to the rear hatch, which was facing the garage, and opened it up. Inside, lying on her side with her wrists and ankles bound was Cynthia Bartlett. She was stark naked and her lithe body had a light sheen of sweat on it. It wasn’t too hot in the back, it being night, but probably still warm in there.

  “Cynthia?” I asked. “You all right?”

  Cynthia didn’t move or say anything.

  “Oh, she’s fine,” Bill said lightly. “Just a little sleepy still. Now, I’m afraid that I have to insist that you join her, Lisa. So off with the clothes!”

  “Fuck you.”

  He chuckled and shook his head, “I can still go back upstairs and put one in Marie’s gut. How would that suit ya’?”

  “Asshole…” I said, sitting on the edge of the cargo area and starting to untie my shoes.

  “Come on, this isn’t a peep show,” He said. “Make it snappy. I’ll have plenty of time to ogle you later.”

  As I took off my shoes and socks, I threw them forward into the spacious cargo area, made more so by the fact that the back seat was laid down. I hoped that he wasn’t going to get rid of my clothes altogether. My left sneaker might be the only thing that saved Cynthia and me.

  I quickly took off my jeans and top. At his insistent look, I removed my panties and bra. I was so angry I didn’t even feel any embarrassment, thankfully.

  Bill whistled, “Christ… he doesn’t do you justice when he talks about how gorgeous you are… oh, if there were only time… me and two hot chicks… oh well, duty before pleasure and all that.”

  He had me lie down in the back next to Cynthia. He bound my ankles and wrists with strong nylon zip ties and closed the hatch. He then got in the driver’s seat and started the big SUV.

  “I hope you’ll be comfortable back there,” he said over his shoulder. “Do let me know if there’s anything you need.”

  “Your balls nailed to a barn door,” I cranked.

  One positive thing was that within only a couple of minutes of starting the expensive SUV, the expensive AC was doing its job. The warm cargo area cooled down and the blanket Bill had thrown over Cynthia and I was welcome. I actually felt sleepy, but tried to ignore that. It was important that I try to pay attention to where we were going.

  After a few minutes, we seemed to get onto a highway. I figured this had to be the 528, since that was the closest highway to the Francos’ place. I couldn’t tell which way we were going, though, which was frustrating. Although after maybe ten minutes, we took a looping interchange onto another highway. This had to be I-4… or the turnpike, but I didn’t think the turnpike was likely.

  We drove for at least an hour. Bill was listening to music, so I felt confident that I could try to get free of my bonds. There wasn’t any kind of sharp corner or anything, though. He’d zip tied my hands in front of me, at least, which made the job easier, but as much as I explored the capacious area, I couldn’t find anything with enough of an edge to saw through the damned ties.

  “Where…?” I heard a soft and slurred question from behind me.

  I grimaced and turned back onto my right side so that I was close to Cynthia, “Shhh… are you okay?”

  “Where am I?” The other woman mumbled softly.

  “Just take it easy,” I whispered. “It’s Lisa Gonzalez. Scott’s girlfriend.”

  “Lisa?” She asked, sounding a little drunk but probably just from whatever Bill had used to knock her out. “Is Scott here?”

  “No,” I said. “Shade has us. I know who he is and so does Scott. I’m hopeful that he’ll find us.”

  In my search for something to cut the bonds, I’d removed the blanket. Cynthia looked around for a moment and then at me, “Why are you naked?”

  “Same reason you are,” I said. “He wants us vulnerable so we don’t try to get away. Are you… are you…?”

  “I’m fine,” She said. “At least I think so. He hasn’t done anything to me, at least not that I know of. I’ll bet he’s tempted though. Especially now… and now that I can kind of see the whole picture… it’s no wonder Scott resisted me.”

  I blushed, “What…?”

  Cynthia grinned, “You’re gorgeous. Even I’m tempted.”

  Wow… was she that over sexed that even tied up in the back of a madman’s car she was getting worked up seeing another woman naked? I don’t remember Scott mentioning that aspect of her tastes.

  Cynthia chuckled softly, “Relax, I’m just making an observation. As pretty as you are and as outstanding a body as you have, sweetie… my tastes are definitely centered on the male of the species. So where the hell are we going?”

  I sighed, “South. I think we’re on I-4. Have you been out since your house?”

  She shook her head, “No, that gas or whatever he hit us with only lasted for a little while. I woke up in a motel room. This little fucker forced me to wire transfer twenty-million dollars into an offshore account. He says I’m coming along to make sure the transfer goes through.”

  I didn’t ask and then what. I couldn’t imagine that Bill would simply let us go nice as you please once he had his money and his ticket out of the country, which had to be the case.

  “At least it’s not all you’ve got,” I said.

  She scoffed, “Most of my liquid capital. Yeah, there’s a few million left… but he got most of what I had remaining from the settlement. Fucking asshole…”

  “Can’t disagree,” I said

  “So you’re Scott’s girlfriend,” Cynthia stated. “Are you also his partner or something? Are you a bad ass too? Can you get us out of this?”

  I chuffed, “I’m no Scott Jarvis, that’s for sure. I’ll try, but the problem is that this guy is a lunatic. If I try any monkey business, he might kill or harm you.”

  She sighed, “Of course… and I’m sure the reverse is true. But so what? You don’t know me. If you can get away—“

  I shook my head emphatically, “Absolutely not. Either we both get away or we both stay. I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?” She asked.

  “Really?” I shot back, trying to convey frustration in a low tone. “Because it’s wrong, that’s why! I can’t preserve my life at the expense of yours. Scott wouldn’t do that.”

  She shrugged, “Scott’s an overgrown boy scout. This is the real world.”

  “Maybe for you,” I snapped. “For some of us, certain things are not acceptable.”

  “I appreciate that,’ she observed. “I really do… but honestly, I don’t know if my strength of character reaches that level. I can’t honestly say that if a chance comes to get away…”

  “Do what you need to do,” I said.

  We were silent then. I pulled the blanket over me and laid there quietly, trying to pay attention to the journey. We seemed to take another interchange onto another highway.

  I couldn’t be certain, of course, but I thought we’d either gotten onto I-75 or I-275 in Tampa. After a half hour or so and no bridge, I suspected 75. 275 exits Tampa near the airport and goes over Tampa Bay across the Howard Franklin Bridge. It’s several miles long and no matter what, you always know that you’re driving over a bridge when in a car.

  I must have fallen asleep not long after, because my eyes suddenly opened when I realized we were no longer moving and the temperature had risen some. The engine was shut down. It was still dark, and when I sat up to look out of the windows, I couldn’t see much of anything. There was the silhouette of a building b
ehind us and a street light off to the front, but I couldn’t see any other details. I thought maybe there was a stand of trees to the right, but that’s it. Wherever we were, it seemed awfully flat and featureless. At least at night.

  Then the back hatch opened and a warm puff of night air wafted in. I could smell a heavy scent of growth and even some night blooming Jasmin. And then beer… and body odor.

  “Well, Gawd-damn!” A man with a heavy Florida cracker accent exclaimed. “Lookie what we got here! Woo-wee! If you two ain’t the pertiest couple of split tails I ever done seen! Must be m’lucky day! Holy sheep shit.”

  The man was repulsive. He was of medium height and obese. If he didn’t top out at a cool three hundred than my name isn’t Lisa Sugar Tits Gonzalez.

  Well… it isn’t… but you get the picture.

  The man wore dirty overalls, I could tell even in the low light, and a stained T-shirt beneath. His balding head glowed with a sheen of sweat from the distant street light and he held a tall boy can in one of his pudgy hands.

  “The fuck you lookin’ at?” I growled.

  “Shit, honey,” He drawled, chugging from his oil can. “I done told you what I’m lookin’ at. Two naked women and sweet Jesus if you two couldn’t raise the dead. Mmm, mmm… I think we’s gonna have a good time.”

  “Think you can find your little pecker under all that flab, shit for brains?” Cynthia snapped. “Why don’t you do yourself a favor and get the hell out of here before you get hurt.”

  “Ooh, feisty, too! Oh yeah, this’s gonna be good!”

  Suddenly Bill appeared next to the man, “what the fuck ya’ doin’ lookin’ in my vehicle, Sylvester.”

  Sylvester, I guess that was the cracker’s name, laughed, “Just curious, old buddy. Figgered since we’s trading trucks I might see what I’m gettin’ fer mine is all… do these two fuck bunnies come with it? And I do mean cum…”

  “No,” Bill said. “You get this SUV and five grand and you keep your goddamned mouth shut. That’s our deal, Sylvester. The women come with me.”

  “Now just hold on, Mr. Shade,” Sylvester said a little more firmly. He sounded reasonable but I caught a nasty undertone. “Maybe we need to re-negotiate a little. Maybe I need a little persuasion not to say nothin’ should somebody ask me if I seen ya’.”