Roger realized he must have overslept. He had been exhausted. He looked around the hotel room and then looked at his watch. It was already after nine. He threw his blanket back, just as Ellen jumped on his bed and made a wild hissing sound as she pointed toward the door. Roger grabbed his gun and stood at the edge of the bathroom wall. He could hear the soft swiping sound of someone at his key lock.
Suddenly Ellen leaped from the floor with a bloodcurdling screech. A man stumbled sideways and screamed in agony. Roger lunged forward in time to see Ellen scratching at a man’s face and neck. Two other men had guns drawn and were making their way into the room. Roger fired; one man fell to the floor. Roger yelled, “FBI, drop your weapon.” The second man took aim, and Roger shot him. Ellen continued biting and clawing until Roger pushed the barrel of his gun in the man’s back.
“Drop your weapon.”
Ellen dropped to the floor and hopped over to the credenza where she licked her paws casually and watched through narrowed eyes.
Roger pressed the man’s face against the wall with his forearm and began searching him. He had a knife in addition to the Glock he had dropped. Paul burst through the partially opened door, and Roger asked, “You got cuffs?”
Paul nodded and cuffed the man as Roger unloaded the man’s gun and glanced at Ellen. Roger said thanks to Ellen and Paul answered, “No problem. Saw these guys by the elevator. Decided to circle back. Didn’t like their looks.”
Roger was in his boxer shorts. Not exactly his normal attire for interrogations. A crowd was forming in the hall. Roger stated FBI and slammed his door shut. He looked at the man as Paul pushed him into a chair.
Paul had his weapon aimed at the man. “Who are you?”
The man tightened his lips and turned his head. Roger flipped through the man’s thin wallet. There was no ID anywhere. Roger lifted his phone, took a picture, and sent it to Mathew Core with a question, “Know this guy?”
After about three minutes Roger’s phone rang. It was Core. “Rafael Ortiz. Manio man. Thinks he’s a bad ass. Done some enforcement work for Manio. Where is he?”
“In my hotel room with two dead buddies.”
Core paused, “Seems Manio has eyes on you. Probably wants you gone. When you have a minute, I need to talk to you.”
Roger looked at Paul, “I’m going to take my shower. Call local PD to have this guy picked up. Name is Rafael Ortiz. Manio man.”
Paul answered, “No problem.”
Ellen stretched, then curled herself into a black ball with her green eyes peeking through slits above her fur. The man glanced at her, and she raised her chin to hiss at him.
He looked at Paul, “That’s one mean cat.” The man’s face and neck were lined with deep scratches, bite marks, and trails of blood.
Paul controlled his urge to chuckle. “Evidently.”
Kim felt like jogging. She put on her running shoes, a big hockey jersey and headed down the block towards town. She figured she might stop in the bookstore and see what new releases might be out. She wasn’t even a block away from the house when I saw her. Ellen had told us to spend a little time with family this morning before we started our next job.
I was so excited about the children’s rescue I just started jogging next to Kim.
“Was that cool or what?”
Kim looked over, “The kids? It was fabulous! Since when do you jog?” She was smiling. I knew she was happy to see me.
“I have to jog now because you are. Feel free to stop if you are worried about your tired old mom though.”
Kim glanced at me and laughed. “Nice try. What’s up?”
“Getting ready to bust a human trafficking ring, I guess. Hey, I just heard three guys broke into Roger’s hotel room this morning with guns.”
Kim stopped, “What the heck? Was he hurt?”
I could tell she was upset, “Noooooo. That’s why I just told you kind of casual like, so you wouldn’t freak out. Seems that didn’t work.”
Kim kept running. People were watching her run by, talking to herself, but I didn’t want to point that out either. Finally she stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, “You know what? Let’s make a deal. You quit telling me shit about child molesters, murderers, and people trying to kill Roger, and I won’t jog when you are here.”
Touchy, touchy. “Are you having a bad day or something?”
Kim started crying, still jogging in place, “It’s murder, murder, murder, and worse! Kids! I never realized how sick some people are. Roger deals with this every day.”
People were walking past us on the sidewalk and staring at Kim. I didn’t want to say anything, but she really needed to calm down.
I patted her hair with my hand, “Roger really cares about you. You need to trust that he can do his job and stay safe. He knows his job sucks. He has to retire sometime! Besides, what can go wrong? He has angels helping him!” I smiled. Kim smiled back.
A police car pulled alongside of us and an officer got out. Kim was jogging in place. The officer said, “Are you okay, ma’am? We got a call you were acting…. strangely. Talking about murder?”
Kim looked at me, “Oh, this isn’t funny. Fix it.”
I looked at her, “What do you want me to do? He can’t see or hear me.”
Kim scrunched her mouth.
The mom in me took over, “You’re going to make wrinkles.” Kim gave me ‘the look’.
The officer touched Kim’s elbow, “Why don’t you come with me for a while and we’ll try to straighten this out.”
Kim pulled her arm away, “Officer I’m fine. I just talk to myself when I’m running.”
The officer had a concerned look on his face, “It’s okay. It’s okay. Hey, I sing in the shower.”
The officer escorted Kim to the back of the patrol car and pulled away. Kim turned her head and looked at me as they turned the corner. Uh oh.
Abram and Jackson left the FBI field office the night before and returned the money Abram had stolen to the gang house. This morning Abram had called Jackson and asked him to be at the gang’s building early, so they could start working on their undercover assignment. When Abram arrived, there were already nine guys at the building waiting for him.
Abram was immediately barraged with questions from the guys inside. He yelled for everyone to shut up, just as Jackson entered the building. Abram motioned for Jackson to sit in a chair over by Abram’s computer. It was a hundred degrees in the building already, and it stunk of body odor and beer.
One burly guy walked over to stand in front of Abram, “We need some product. Can’t make no money, can’t go nowhere but peoples yellin’ at us.”
Just then two guys from Chiclet’s gang walked in the building. “Who be Abram?”
Abram swallowed and glanced at Jackson. Abram stood, “Who are you?”
The larger of the two put his fist in the air to greet Abram and said, “We come for Chiclet’s money and to see what ya need for the street.”
Jackson had been searching Manuel’s computer for some idea of how much product Manuel was moving and how much money he had to pay for it. Jackson asked, “How much money is Chiclet expecting you to bring back? We’re still diggin’ through all of Manuel’s notes.”
Abram was grateful Jackson had asked the question. He was just going to hand over the two hundred thousand he had taken from the safe the night before.
The burly guy called Chiclet. “How much we ‘sposed to be pickin’ up? With Manuel dead everyone learnin’ the job, ya know?” He listened a while and disconnected from the call. “Chiclet said you owe him fifty grand for yesterday and whatever you want to buy for today. Today be pricey. No product out there to compete. He sez you get the brother-in-law special. Only twice as much today for you.”
Abram winced, “So you want fifty grand for yesterday and a hundred grand for today?”
The burly guy rubbed his chin. “That’s sounds right. Got your product outside. You want us to bring it in?”
Abram no
dded. He looked at Jackson and shrugged. Jackson felt a sinking feeling. He and Abram were clueless. They were bound to make some kind of huge mistake by lunch time.
The Director of the FBI read the emails that Roger had sent him the night before, and placed a call to him. The Director told him Ellen had determined eight ports in the United States had Lanitol Oil dock buildings with large quantities of cocaine. The long standing relationship between the government and the oil companies at the ports was based on history and an economy of resources. The oil companies could well afford their own security and were beyond reproach. Or so everyone was led to believe.
Roger agreed with the Director that since Lanitol Oil claimed they had been victims of a drug cartel, the logical law enforcement move would be to investigate all ports. Not just New Orleans. The fact the original offense was discovered in a martial law zone might give them expanded authority if later challenged.
The Director told Roger he was going to request the National Security Council issue the order to the Coast Guard as soon as Ellen identified who was the weak link in the Interior Department. The Director didn’t want Lanitol Oil warned they were coming like they had been in last night’s raid.
Roger thought it would be best to wait until they had a full day of money transfers before issuing the raid on the other ports. Perhaps timing the raids to start a few hours before the martial law order expired would be best. The Director agreed.
Roger told the Director about the three men at his hotel and that Core had identified them as Manio men. The Director enjoyed the part of the story about Ellen.
The Director sighed, “These relationships we are discovering have been honed for years. Our actions now with LUCY will be taken as threats and will come with severe repercussions.”
Roger answered, “We are twisting their melody. Listen to Bolero. The orchestra wins over the drums. To me, the orchestra is all that is right and just.”
The Director hung up his phone and laughed. You never knew what Roger might say, but this seemed strange even for him. The Director searched his computer for Bolero, found it, and hit play. He leaned his chair back and closed his eyes. At the end of the piece he laughed. He saw what Roger meant.
The Director answered a knock on his office door. “Come in.” His smile quickly faded.
William C. Thornton walked in and sat in the seat across from the Director’s desk. “Morning. Anything new?”
Roger had called Ray at the Star Ship and told him what had happened at the hotel. He asked Ray to check for information on Rafael Ortiz. Then Roger called the local PD to arrest Ortiz and get the coroner to clear his hotel room. The hotel manager arranged a different room for Roger. The manager was mortified and promised to get Roger answers on how these men had obtained the key to Roger’s room.
We had heard from Ellen what happened in Roger’s room, and decided to come back and see for ourselves. On the way there I remember thinking how cool it was Ellen could just hang out with mortals, because she was a cat. I think I might have let my imagination take over at that point. When we arrived in Roger’s room we were all kittens. Ooops. Teresa glared at me and sent me her thoughts. “Now what?” Mortals were in the room. I just shrugged. Ellen hissed at us.
Thor had heard about the problem at Roger’s hotel and made his way through the people in the hall to Roger’s door. He knocked quickly on the door as he entered. Roger and Paul looked fine and were talking to the coroner. Thor glanced over and noticed Roger’s cat sitting by its carrier with four kittens nearby.
Thor asked, “How the hell did your cat have kittens?”
Roger and Paul both whipped around to see four little black kittens sitting in a row next to Ellen. Paul stuttered, “They’re not hers.”
Roger looked at Paul and then to Thor, “One of the hotel staff brought these here hoping Ellen would nurse them.”
Thor starred at Ellen, and then said, “Something is wrong with these kittens. You ever see kittens just sit still like that?”
Roger shrugged. He couldn’t believe he had to deal with this now. I took Thor’s comment as our cue to act like kittens. I bounced straight up at least a foot, spread out all four legs and belly flopped onto Linda.
Mary bit my head and Teresa started pushing her legs into all of our stomachs. This was actually a ton of fun. We were a ball of fur and legs in no time. Linda jumped straight up and landed on Teresa and Mary grabbed me and rolled me over. Someone was biting my tail!
Then Thor asked, “Well, is she nursing them?”
I stopped biting Mary’s ear and looked at Ellen. Maybe it’s lunch time. Ellen sat up and hissed at us. Guess not.
Roger thanked Thor for coming over but said they were headed for the Star Ship soon. Thor said he’d meet them there. He looked back at Ellen and said, “You might talk to that gal that owns the kittens and tell her this isn’t looking good.”
Roger asked Ellen before he shut the hotel room door, “Are these your angels?”
Ellen winked.
Roger closed the door and looked at Paul, “Nice save.”
Behind the closed door Ellen frowned at us. We had changed back to look like our old selves. I raised my hand, Ellen nodded at me.
“It was my fault. I just thought it would be fun for mortals to be able to see us.” Figured I might as well confess. She probably knew it was my fault anyway.
Ellen said, “The decision was made to give you the skill. I don’t see how we can get mad at you for using it.” Ellen smiled.
You are kidding? I’m going to do this all the time! That was too much fun. Now everyone was frowning at me.
I threw my arms up in the air, “Okay, from now on we’ll take a vote.” Shucks.
Paul and Roger decided to walk to the Star Ship and see what was happening with the French Quarter Bank wire activity. Today was Friday and hopefully the day LUCY would die.
Paul looked around as they walked the three blocks to the Star Ship, “Guess we need to be more alert. I didn’t expect a nine a.m. hit in your hotel room.”
Roger nodded. “Core thinks they’ve been watching. Probably knew we had a late night, and waited for you to leave the hotel floor.”
Paul asked, “Has Core ever said any more about Fenley’s hit on us?”
Roger chuckled, “Sorry, I forgot to tell you. Yeah, that’s been cancelled.”
Paul laughed, “Just slipped your mind?”
Roger stopped walking, “Shoot. Core wanted to talk to me about something.”
Roger dialed Core, “Sorry it took so long to get back to you. What did you want?”
Mathew Core set his tea cup down and took a deep breath. He hoped that Roger would accommodate him, “I want a phone number to talk to Lisa.”
Spicey had dressed for the day, made herself a cup of herbal tea and sat at her small dinette set staring at the book the Spirits had given her. Truth Seeker. Huh. After a few moments she pushed her cup aside, pulled the book toward her, and began reading. Hours passed, and Spicey was stunned back into reality by a banging on her apartment door.
She went to the door and Sasha came in. “Why you not open yet? You sick?” Sasha set her purse down on the table and saw the open book. “You be studyin’ that new potion book?”
Spicey nodded and said, “I hope I get more instruction than this. It don’t make sense to me yet. What time is it anyway?”
Spicey turned around and looked at the wall clock. “Dang! It’s almost noon and I ain’t even opened the shop yet.”
Sasha mumbled, “That’s what I been sayin’.”
Spicey ran out into the shop, flipped the Voodoo sign to ON, and Sasha took her seat by the register. Sasha said, “Look here at all these jars on this back shelf.”
Spicey walked over and saw at least ten narrow shelves lined with small jars of powders and liquids. Each little jar had a label with strange writing on it. Spicey threw her arms up in the air, “I can’t read what these mean. How I supposed to know what I’m doing?”
; Sasha picked up a jar and gave Spicey a worried look, “What so hard ‘bout this? Says ‘crow beak’ right on it.”
Spicey’s mouth flew open. She could read the labels now. She looked at Sasha, “I’m tellin’ ya this Spirit stuff is spooky. Strange things been happenin’ already.”
Sasha asked, “What you think ‘crow beak’ be for?” She shook the powder in the jar and held it up to the light. “You look in your ball yet?”
Spicey froze. “Nope.”
Carol and Cindy had known Spicey back in Michigan when she went by her given name of Sadie Corbin. That was before she decided to be a Voodoo lady. They all worked at The Tavern in Niles, Michigan, where Teresa, Mary, Linda, and Vicki would go for lunch before they died in their accident. Carol and Cindy had been friends outside of work for years and had saved to take a vacation together. Knowing Sadie had a Voodoo shop in New Orleans made the French Quarter their logical choice. That, and the fact they were both somewhat ‘colorful’ characters in their own right. The French Quarter in New Orleans was an irresistible destination.
Cindy found them a travel package on the internet that promised their room at the Inn would have them in the heart of the French Quarter. When the taxi pulled up in front of a bright orange building with teal window trim and a tattoo shop at street level, Carol said, “This doesn’t look like the website picture.”
The cabby started laughing. “You see the one with the big wrap around balcony and all the red flower pots hangin’?”
Cindy answered, “Yeah! That’s the one.”
The cabby laughed, “Half the Inns use that same picture. This here be where you’re staying. Ain’t a bad place really. You still be in the safe part of the Quarter.”
Cindy exhaled loudly. “Well, we’re here. Should we check it out?”
Carol laughed, “We don’t care anyway! We’re not staying in our room. We’re here to party!” Cindy agreed. They paid the cabby and hauled their suitcases into the tattoo shop. The owner of the tattoo shop had them sign in.
Silent Crickets: A Shallow End Gals, Trilogy Book Three Page 17
