Silent Crickets: A Shallow End Gals, Trilogy Book Three

by Troutman, Kimberly

  Roger answered, “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

  SSA Simon Frost watched the National Guard van pull away from the field office garage and leave the parking lot with four armed escort vehicles. Lisa and Jamie Core were with them and heading to a location known only to Roger and the Director. Roger had requested that the National Guard remain at the field office to maintain the ruse that Lisa and Jamie were still there. Roger had requested Simon and Nelson return to the Star Ship and assist Ray in identifying all of the account owners at French Quarter Bank. Roger also wanted an update on Mathew Core’s account activity.

  When Simon and Nelson arrived at the Star Ship, Ray greeted them, “Hey. You guys did remember I was still here. What’s happening?”

  Simon answered, “I can’t tell you what is happening because I don’t know. I can tell you what Roger wants us to do.”

  After listening for a few minutes Ray rolled his eyes and said sarcastically, “That’s all?”

  Linda and Teresa entered the home of Andre Baton to look for his computer. They heard a phone ring in the distance. A male voice said, “I’m sure it will be another four weeks at least before I can possibly even think about coming in to the office. My doctor is insistent that I not stress myself during this recovery time.”

  Linda and Teresa followed the voice down the hall to a big library where a wimpy looking man in a bathrobe was pretending to hit tennis balls while he spoke on the phone. Teresa pointed to a TV screen where a game of tennis was actually being played. “He’s playing with a Wii! He’s not sick.”

  Linda saw his computer on the desk and sat in his chair. She slowly started turning the computer to face her when Andre turned. “I don’t care what you call it. Call it vacation if you want to, I have plenty coming to me. Don’t expect to see me at the office for another month. Got it?” He hung up, grabbed the remote, and started his game over again. He was actually quite good.

  Teresa snuck over to his control and kept dialing up the speed on him. He was working up quite a sweat by the time Linda had located the computer files and uploaded them to her watch. Linda asked, “Do you think we should look for an address book or anything? I don’t know if the information we want is really on his computer or not.”

  Teresa said, “I think I can arrange a diversion to get him out of this room, so you can go through that desk.”

  “A diversion?”

  Teresa giggled, “I bet he’s afraid of mice.” She had no sooner said it than Andre screamed and jumped up on a club chair. Teresa was a gray mouse, sitting on the floor, looking at him. She lunged forward, and Andre jumped from the chair and ran from the room. Linda saw Teresa chasing him out of the room. Andre’s high pitched little girl screams trailed all over the house. They passed the doorway twice. Teresa ran on her hind legs with her arms in the air. Linda could hardly see she was laughing so hard. All of a sudden she heard pots and pans being thrown and a door slammed. She finished making copies of an address book she had found just as Teresa walked back into the room.

  “Where did he go?”

  Teresa laughed, “He’s banging on the neighbor’s door. That was fun!”

  Mary and I arrived at the courthouse and sat in the jury box watching a trial that the Honorable Judge Harold Williams was presiding over. We kept glaring at him, but of course he couldn’t see us. I couldn’t help it. He looked so smug in that robe. Every time he was asked for a ruling I zapped him with a memory gap. He would open his mouth, look at the lawyers and ask, “Now what did you ask?”

  The prosecutor and the defense attorney exchanged glances. Judge Williams was known to never miss a word.

  Mary made me stop after five times.

  We went into his chambers and checked out his desk drawers and computer. Nothing. Mary said, “You know it makes sense he wouldn’t have this stuff here. I bet we have to go to his house. Find his home address on something.”

  Just then he walked into his chambers and sat in his chair. Mary and I moved up by the ceiling. He called his bailiff to come in. “Ron, I think I need to reschedule these last two cases. I didn’t sleep well last night and I seem to be having some issues.”

  The bailiff pretended concern, “Do you want a doctor or something?” He was thrilled at the prospect of leaving early and figured Harold’s real problem was probably too much bourbon last night.

  Judge Williams waved him away, “Nah, I’m just going to go home.” Cool. We can just follow him. Judge Williams took off his robe and grabbed some keys from his desk drawer. We followed him through the parking garage to a little red Corvette convertible.

  Mary yelled, “I got shotgun!” Shoot. Riding in the convertible was fun, and a lot of people waved at us as we passed. We waved back. Seemed the Judge knew a lot of people. Being an angel does have its perks. We finally arrived at Judge Williams’s house and followed him into the kitchen from the garage. He stuck his head in the refrigerator and came out with an apple and some Colby cheese. I sniffed my wrist. That looked pretty good.

  Mary yelled from down the hall, “I found the computer. Keep him busy out there.” Hmmm. He started to walk out of the kitchen so I smacked his plate of cheese. It fell on the floor. He cursed, bent down, picked it up, and decided to eat it anyway. Then he started walking again. This time I knocked his apple from the bend of his elbow. He stood and watched it roll across the floor. “Well, I must have the dropsies today.” Dropsies?

  He walked over to the front door, opened it, and retrieved his newspaper from the mail box. Then he sat in a big overstuffed chair and began reading. He pulled the recliner back a little and was snoring in five minutes. I went down the hall to see how Mary was doing.

  Mary was going through a rolodex and making copies with her camera. I forgot we even had them on. I kept sniffing my wrist as I watched her, She finally asked me, “What are you eating?”

  “Apples and cheese. I’m starting a diet.” Mary shook her head.

  “Don’t you want to know why?”

  “No. But I am sure you are going to tell me.” Mary chuckled, “No, let me guess. If you lose weight you can fly faster.”

  I was shocked!

  “Wow, you are good! I also could have you make me some of those cute outfits you have been wearing.”

  Mary kept smiling and taking pictures of address books and finally said, “For someone who is supposed to be smart, why do you keep forgetting we can read each other’s minds?”

  Oh. That is a good point. Probably because I don’t try to read theirs. Maybe I should.

  Mary pushed her chair back and said, “I’m done. I didn’t see anything important though. Should we call Linda and Teresa and see if they are ready to go to the Senator’s house?” I kept eating and just nodded my head. Teresa and Linda had already been to University guy’s house and were just finishing at Theodore Chain’s. They said they would meet us at the Senator’s city house.

  Mary looked nervous, “You know this has been going pretty smoothly so far. I hope we don’t have any surprises.”

  “You worry too much.”

  A nurse poked her head into the surgical waiting room and cleared her throat to wake Thor and Jeanne. It had been two hours but had seemed like only minutes. Thor took a minute to get his bearings back. The nurse looked at them and said, “He’s in the recovery room now. You can visit for a minute, but he is still very drowsy.”

  Thor and Jeanne followed the nurse down the hall to where Pablo appeared to be sleeping. He had bandages across his shoulder and IV’s in each arm. Jeanne sat next to him and cradled his hand in hers. Pablo opened his eyes and blinked at her, “I killed a kid today. He was just a kid.” Jeanne looked at Thor, she didn’t know what Pablo was talking about.

  Thor stepped over to be in Pablo’s line of sight. “Yeah you did. A kid with an AK47 aimed at you. Seems I remember you saved my life on that porch too. You’ve had a busy day, managed to get shot at the swamp to top it off.”

  Pablo frowned and looked at his shoulder. Then he looked at Jean
ne, “Are you okay? There were dead guys every place we followed you.”

  Jeanne smiled, “I’m fine, not a scratch. I even had a nap with Thor.”

  Pablo looked at Thor, “What?” Thor shook his head. Ah shit. Thor hoped he didn’t have to listen to this all day. Thor told Jeanne to visit a few minutes and meet him at the car.

  When Thor left, Pablo stared at Jeanne, “You like him, don’t you?”

  Jeanne didn’t answer.

  When he got to the car, Thor called Roger to tell him they were done at the hospital. Roger asked him to meet at Core’s building that everyone now called the Star Ship. He hoped to brief everyone shortly about the findings from the sting transcripts. Thor rested his head against his window. Whatever he was thinking about Jeanne had to stop. They barely knew each other and she had just been through hell. It must be he was feeling the tension of this case. He barely spoke when she opened the passenger door and got in.

  Jeanne looked at him for a moment then turned to look straight ahead. “What do we do now?”

  Thor put the car in gear and answered, “Roger wants us at the Star Ship.”

  Tourey met John Barry in the common park in front of the Law Library at Loyola University. Tourey had his eyebrows raised and was shaking his head. “I know that facial expression of yours, and I have a feeling I’m going to regret this meeting.”

  John answered, “I’m sure you are. Your Mambo was right. LUCY is alive and well.”

  “Ah shit!”

  A couple of students walked past them and sat in the grass too close for comfort. Tourey tilted his head, and they both walked away. John spoke first, “Regardless, I really need you to stay on Patterson until they call you in on LUCY. We are out of time with this sicko club, and we are short on manpower.” John brought Tourey up to date on Jeanne’s encounter with the Manio cartel and Pablo getting shot.

  Tourey stopped and leaned against a tree. He swatted a fly from his arm, “This club has branches and members all over the country. They’ve been doing this awhile. The key here is to figure out who they get to snatch the kids, where they stash ‘em, and what they do with them when they are done. The statistics on this are sickening, I’ve been doing some research. I hate to say it, but short of a miracle, we may have to wait ‘til they snatch another kid to figure this out.”

  John was shaking his head, “We have Patterson who we can pick up now. Maybe he knows something about the structure of the club. Do you think he is still at the country house?”

  Tourey was nodding, “Yeah, but if we move on Patterson now we lose our chance to catch the rest of ‘em. We don’t have anything on these other guys yet. I might be able to get Patterson to tell me how they move the kids, if he even knows. He’s new to this bunch.” Tourey reached in his pocket, “Here’s a flash drive with what I have found out about the club, missing kids and dead kids. I think at least we have an up to date list of all the members of this club.”

  John put the flash drive in his pocket and said, “Try to get something out of Patterson. If he isn’t willing to talk to you casually, call Roger about arresting him. We have to do something. We’re out of time.”

  Tourey pulled an amulet from under his shirt and dangled it for John to see. “I got this here present from Mambo that she said I should wear. Message seems to be we’re lookin’ at facin’ trouble.” Tourey winked and walked away.

  John walked back to his car with a heavy heart. It never ends. He sat listening to the cool air escape from the vents, closed his eyes, and said a prayer. Tourey was right. They needed a miracle. He looked up to his rearview mirror to back out of his parking space and saw Ellen’s face looking back at him. “Workin’ on it!” She gave a big smile and disappeared. John exhaled after a couple of moments and headed toward the Star Ship.

  Mathew Core watched Tourey leave his house. As soon as it was clear, he entered Tourey’s library and copied the latest files on the sicko club to a flash drive. Perfect. One of the files was a list of members’ names at all of the branches of the club. One hundred and thirty- two names.

  He then went to his apartment above the jewelry store. Core could still feel the heart wrenching fear he had felt when he thought Patterson’s sick group had kidnapped Jamie. His guilt at orchestrating Patterson’s escape was driving his decision now. He didn’t trust this club could be stopped by law enforcement. Not soon enough. He knew a few guys that could get the job done clean if they chose to do it. It meant that Core would be breaking the law, again.

  Core picked up his phone and made a conference call to three men. He told them fifty million dollars had been transferred to each of their accounts. Have a nice life. Core told them he was officially retired. He mentioned he was transferring information to each of their computers. He warned them the FBI was working it, hard. Perhaps there was some hope for justice. He suspected they would be cynical. He knew if they chose to participate, they would be efficient. Core couldn’t think of a better way to spend Devon and Patterson’s money.

  Now to call Manio and Zelez. He hoped Roger knew what he was doing.

  Alan had stayed with Jeremiah long enough for all of the cops to leave and to help Jeremiah remove minks from traps. He could tell Jeremiah was tired, but at least he wasn’t worried about Jeanne anymore. One of the cops told them Jeanne saved this lady and her kid from a drug cartel. Shot five of them in town and killed three more out at Jeremiah’s place.

  Alan could tell Jeremiah was proud. When everyone had left, he looked at Alan and said, “There are some people you come across got that somethin’ special, ya know? Mambo done named her Heeshia, means ‘chosen one’. You know why?” Alan shook his head.

  Jeremiah continued, “You see them special blue eyes of hers? That means somethin’ boy. Mambo never wrong. You look it up on your ‘puter when you get home. Black Madonna. Jeanne’s what they call a messenger of Black Madonna. A warrior spirit, protector of women and children. Yup. You check it out. Blue eyed Haitian that one is.”

  Alan tried to make sense of what Jeremiah was rambling about. Alan was getting anxious to get to the city. He had an air conditioning job to do and the customer waitin’ on him had a bad temperament even when he was cool. Jeremiah told Alan to be on his way but asked him if he could bring some fruit loops back next time he came around. Mambo had liked them.

  Alan went to town, did his job, and went into Mickey’s Bar to grab a sandwich and a beer. It was only four o’clock but he was already hungry. Alan saw Dusty sitting at the end of the bar and joined him, “Hey there. See you survived the martial law sweep they had in town this mornin’. Man, traffic is a bitch.”

  Dusty tilted his head back as he swallowed the last of his beer. “Those FBI guys are crazy! I had six dudes at my house this mornin’ dressed in SWAT gear, screamin’ through my walls with one of them loudspeakers. Damn! I moved to town to get away from them stupid roosters! Now I got SWAT dudes? Shit. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since FBI got to town. Worse, now I know ‘em all!”

  Alan laughed and ordered Dusty another beer. “There was some kind of shoot-out at Jeremiah’s place a couple of hours ago. Drug cartel.”

  Dusty’s eyes opened wide, “Jeremiah messin’ with drug cartels? What the hell?”

  “No, no….drug cartel and FBI ended up there. Guess that FBI chic helped some lady and kid escape ‘em or somethin’. Pablo got shot.”

  Dusty hung his head, “Damn. I liked that Pablo.” Dusty raised his beer mug, “To Pablo.”

  Alan shook his head, “He ain’t dead, just got shot in the shoulder.”

  Dusty smiled wide, “Well that’s the first good thing you said since you got here.”

  “Where’s your easel and stuff? You’re not workin’ today?”

  “Ain’t no customers. Got the National Guard drivin’ all over, makes the tourists think Nawlens ain’t safe.”

  “It’s not!”

  Scotty, the bartender, walked down to the end of the bar and leaned in close, “You know that guy I told y
ou was asking me about Tourey? He moved into the apartment over the jewelry store next door. He owns that building too. Guy that was rentin’ from him, Duane, says he showed up this morning with twenty grand cash. Asked him to move.”

  Dusty laughed, “Damn, I’d move for twenty grand cash and I own my house! Piece of shit, fallin’ down anyway.”

  Alan lowered his voice, “Must be somethin’ pretty special ‘bout this neighborhood.”

  Scotty sneered, “You got that right. FBI across the street!” Scotty wiped the bar, took Alan’s empty sandwich basket, and said, “I don’t think these guys are done with Nawlens. I’m thinkin’ we got more trouble comin’. Mark my words, it’s gonna start right over there.” He walked away waving his bar rag to point across the street.

  The juke box started playing Creedence Clearwater Revival, Bad Moon Rising.

  Dusty looked at Alan, “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

  “We need a new bar.”

  Abram thumped his temple with the barrel of his pistol and moaned. “I don’t like Ms. Spicey being out here! Not good. No way this be good.”

  Jackson backed up a little and maneuvered to get out of line of fire in case Abram’s gun went off. “Who is she anyway?”

  Abram stuck the gun back in his waistband and scowled, “She be a Voodoo lady.” Abram looked at Jackson, “Just yesterday she showed up at a house I was ‘sposed to torch. Mind you, only ten minutes after I get the call to do it! She knew why I was there, man! Told me I ain’t getting’ away with nothin’. Made me help move the furniture out first!” Abram was pointing up to the heavens. “She’s spooky.”

  Jackson glanced out the window again, “I think they might be at the wrong place. They be pushin’ that car back to the road. See?”