by K Elliott
Brian wasted no time removing the gun from his shoulder holster.
Missy's husband stopped in his tracks while staring at the gun.
Brian got up from the sofa and said, "What? I guess you don't think your wife's worth dying over anymore."
Missy said, "Jake, this man is an FBI agent. He's investigating Allen Orcutt's death."
"Oh," Jake said then took two steps back and stood near the door.
Brian said, "Alright, Jake. Sit your stupid ass down right there on the floor." When the man complied Brian lowered his weapon. "I understand you're a registered sex offender, and I have no idea why Missy is still with your ass. Interrupt this fucking interview again, and you'll have to explain a lot to your probation officer." He tucked the gun away, turned to Missy again, and said, "George Ambercrombie. You said he was a nice guy, but do you know if he was homophobic?"
She said, "I don't know that."
"Okay. Let me run this back. You were dating Andy Culver, who is in prison now, and Andy was a friend of Allen's. George and Andy were good friends."
She said, "Probably best friends."
"So if you've never seen George and Allen together, then those two probably never got along for whatever reason. I'm sure they knew each other because Andy was a mutual friend." Brian glanced at Jake and said, "Did you know Allen Orcutt?"
Jake said, "No, but Missy told me about him several years back."
Brian said, "Did she say who she thought might have killed him?"
Jake said, "The Ambercrombie guy you just mentioned."
Brian looked at Missy. "A nice guy, huh? Why did you leave that part out?"
She said, "Well I got no proof. Plus he's changed his life, and I didn't want to cause problems over something I don't have any proof of."
"You said you haven't seen him in twenty years; how do you know he changed his life?"
"I hear him every Sunday on AM radio," she said.
CHAPTER 7
ECHO WAS ON INTERSTATE 15 travelling north. He was driving Norma's Audi while she was uncomfortably lying across her backseat, hands cuffed behind her back. Every once in a while he would glance at her in the rearview mirror as he questioned her. He could also see Sheree following in the Mercedes.
A simple tone sounded off and Echo answered his Blackberry.
Brian said, "Echo, I got a job for you, but I don't want anybody to die."
Echo sighed and said, "All these stipulations make my job difficult. I need a promotion."
"A promotion?" Sheree is the assistant; me and you run the rest of the shit. You want to be promoted to what?"
Echo said, "How the hell should I know? I just want a fucking title."
Brian laughed. "Stop bullshittin'. We got too much work to do. Where are you?"
"About two hours from the assistant's place. What do you need done?"
"I think I got a good suspect. He lives in Lancaster, about an hour from Sheree's place."
"Let me stop you," Echo said as he glanced in the rearview mirror again. "Whatever you need me to do will have to wait until the morning. I'm working on some other shit right now."
"Other shit? This is the Orcutt case, and I just told you I got a good suspect. That's all we need to solve this case. Whoever killed Allen left their prints on the knife. This case is over if our suspect owns those prints."
"Brian, I'm on some big-boy shit right now. I can't explain over the phone. Call Teresa, and she'll explain it to you"
"Why the fuck you want her to explain it to me on the damn phone and you can't?"
"Because I got company, and I don't want to give her any answers."
Brian said, "How much money involved?"
"This one is on the house. I might be able to give back to the community. Prove to myself that I ain't such a bad guy."
"Echo, you're a bad guy, I don't give a fuck what you do. Need any help with whatever you're doing?"
"Probably will, but I'll know more tomorrow."
Brian said, "Listen. I'mma put the Orcutt case on hold for a few days. Give me about three hours and I'll meet you at Sheree's place. Whatever your retarded ass is up to I'm behind you. I know you wouldn't break away from a paid case unless you had a good reason. I'm out."
Echo slipped the phone back inside his shirt pocket and said to Norma, "You got married and kept your last name. Why?"
She said, "He didn't want me with his last name. He felt I would be treated unfairly because of his last name. al-Shaziz is of Muslim origin. Have you noticed how Muslims are treated post-9/11?"
Echo kept his eyes on the highway. "You married in March of 2000, eighteen months before the planes hit the buildings. Nobody gave a damn about Muslims before 9/11, so why would your husband insist you keep your own last name? Blacks got all the discrimination and racial profiling before 9/11. Sounds to me like your husband knew the planes would hit the buildings and Muslims would be targeted after that."
"You're wrong about Abul. He doesn't practice any Muslim traditions, and he's just as American as you and I. He's been here nearly twenty-five years; surely you don't think he knew about the 9/11 terror plot as early as 1987."
"I'll find out." He glanced at her. "Tell me why he has tens of thousands of dollars in cash in his car?"
"Abul doesn't have that kind of money on him."
Echo smiled at her. He was cruising at 65 mph. "You ever fucked a black man before?""
The question worried her. "No, I haven't."
"Relax. I don't take pussy. We're kidnapping you for a few days. If your husband is in the middle of a terror plot right now, he wouldn't dare file a missing persons report about you because he knows the cops would investigate him. If he don't file that report after twenty-four hours, do you solemnly promise to give me some good head without frowning up about it?"
CHAPTER 8
IT WAS JUST GETTING dark outside when Sheree invited Brian inside her townhouse apartment. She said, "What's up?" then closed the door.
Brian turned to face her. "Not much. Where is he?"
"In the main bathroom with Abul's wife."
He made his way to the bathroom and entered without knocking. Brian saw an attractive white woman sitting on the toilet but fully clothed. He noticed a chain around her waist, the other end secured around the base of the toilet. The slack in the chain would allow the woman to explore the bathroom at will.
Echo was sitting on the rim of the bathtub, and the track for the frosted shower door was uncomfortable to his ass. He said to Brian, "I know what you're thinking: How did I get a pretty woman like this on lock."
Brian stayed in the doorway. "Close enough."
"You remember I told you about a little wreck I was in? Her husband ran into me but paid me off with twelve stacks in cash, right there on the scene."
Brian leaned against the door jamb. "He's probably a drug dealer or into something illegal. What's the big deal?"
Echo said, "His name is Abul al-Shaziz, and he's from Saudi Arabia."
Brian thought about that for a moment.
Norma said, "He was educated here and has been here since 1987."
Echo said, "This is his wife. Her name is Norma Belmont, not Norma al-Shaziz. I'm keeping her until Abul files a missing persons report, but I already bet her that he won't."
She said, "I never agreed to your proposal."
Echo looked at her. "If you think he'll file the report then you ain't got nothing to worry about. Would you rather give me some head or some pussy if your husband don't file the report?"
"I would rather go home to my daughters and husband."
"Did you even notice that thick-ass chain I put around you? I'm the one making your options."
"You said you weren't a rapist."
"Nope. I said I don't take pussy; that's why I'm making you give me some head. But if you wanna fuck, that's on you."
She ran a hand through her long hair, clearly stressed.
Brian said, "So why don't you think her husband will file a report?"
&nbs
p; "Because I think he's on some terror shit, maybe even suicide-bombing plot, and he wouldn't want the cops microscoping his Muslim ass."
"So what's your plan? You babysitting her for how long?"
"By this time tomorrow I'll find out if a report has been filed. If it hasn't then we will pull up on Abul and make him talk."
Brian said, "If he's really a terrorist, making him talk won't be easy. Suicide bombers obviously ain't scared of death."
"You giving them too much credit. They know that death is a quick, usually painless way out. I plan to beat Abul's ass down to a fuckin' frazzle. He'll talk when he's suffering."
Brian smiled. "What the hell is a frazzle?"
"I don't know, but I done heard that word before and it sounds like a goddamn squiggly line."
Brian laughed.
Echo said to Norma, "If you make any noise to disturb the neighbors, you'll find out why I got a silencer on the gun I showed you. And you might as well die with your mouth open because I still want some head."
Brian closed the door and left the bathroom. He didn't want to keep laughing at the crazy shit Echo was saying, though he knew his cousin was just trying to pump fear into the woman's heart.
CHAPTER 9
IT WAS NEARLY ONE in the morning when Brian invited Janelle inside his hotel suite in Pasadena. He closed the door then turned and smiled at her. He wore only a bathrobe and some houseslippers. "You look mysteriously sexy." And he meant it.
Janelle wore spandex blue jeans that appeared to be glued to her forty-inch hips and ass. Her hairdo was simple-a single ponytail-and it somehow added to her sexiness. French nails, no polish. Very little makeup. Smooth, dark skin and face-smothering cleavage to highlight that fact. She wore a black jacket and a black T-shirt that was designed to show a gorgeous amount of her left breast. "I decided that a new hairdo would have been a waste of money. So please excuse my hair."
He walked up to her. "You could be a balding cancer patient and still make that look erotic." He was sucking her top lip before she could complete her smile, and the move slowly turned into a French kiss. His erection was as hard as a tree, and he knew she could feel it against her belly.
As they continued their audible kissing, she dropped her overnight bag, slipped her jacket and Reebok sneakers off, and left them there on the floor. The couple began working their way to the bedroom. Janelle stopped and said, "What are you wearing under your robe?" She unfastened it at the waist and admired nine full inches of dick. He was naked underneath.
"This is my best tailor-made suit." He untucked her T-shirt and gently pulled it up and over her head.
She freed her arms and began snaking out of her stretch jeans. Seconds later she stood before Brian wearing a revealing lace bra and matching lace panties that were designed like a pair of short shorts, the bottom half of her ass cheeks exposed.
He hugged her, pleased with the feel of her skin against his, then cupped her fleshy ass with both hands. The French kissing resumed. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Brian carried her to the bedroom and stood her on the foot of the mattress.
She held his shoulders as he pulled her panties down. She stepped out of them, one leg at a time.
Brian was about a foot shorter than her now. He looked down at her waxed pussy and smiled at the tattoo above it. In neat and small letters her tattoo read: "Maybe next time," and Brian bent down and ran his long, wide tongue across the phrase. He looked up at her and said, "And I was just about to lick your birthmark."
She displayed a big smile and continued to hold onto his shoulders because the soft bed kept her wobbling whenever she released him.
He removed his robe and said, "Turn around."
"I'll fall. Do I have to keep standing?"
"For a few more minutes. Turn around; I'll help hold you up." When she turned around in the bed he said, "Spread your legs and take off your bra." To hold her steady he slipped his right hand between her thighs and carefully pushed his thumb inside her pussy until his thumbprint felt a wet, meaty, rippled button. The other four fingers reached her tattoo and helped hold her steady as his thumb rubbed the inner button with pressure.
Janelle tried to contain herself but moaned almost helplessly.
Brian said, "Can you get on your knees without letting my thumb slip out?"
She began complying without answering him.
When she was on her knees and elbows he said, "Spread your knees apart some more." His thumb was still working magic inside her. He leaned closer and flicked his tongue across her asshole then began sucking it.
Janelle moaned and said, "I want to sit on your mouth while I suck you." The nerve to admit that meant she wanted Brian to be her man.
CHAPTER 10
SO HOW DO WE DO this?" Janelle said as she lay under the covers, her head resting on Brian's bare chest.
"You found an apartment here in Pasadena; we'll look at it in the morning. If we like it I'll pay the lease up for six months then give you the money to furnish it."
She said, "Let's talk about that. You've obviously made a lot of money with Godsend, but it's not legal and you don't pay taxes. How do-"
"Janelle, I got a life insurance check for more than two hundred grand and have only bought a new Durango with it. An audit won't hurt me. I would like to follow in Marissa and my sister's footsteps and start an online business with you. I'll put up fifty grand, and you can put up fifty so we can start the business, but you're the one with a degree in business. I expect you to come up with a good idea for a business that can make millions."
"Easier said than done; but I'll think of something." She rubbed her chest.
"By next week me and LaRia will move in; you and your daughter should already be there. I'll take about a month off from Godsend so we can all get used to each other as a family."
"Brian, what you do is illegal and dangerous. I assume you already have enough money. You're working on a seventh case in almost two years, at $75,000 per case. Right? That's . . . uh . . . $525,000. Divide that with your cousin and your assistant and . . . ."
He smiled. "Your calculator fucking up?"
"How could you afford to pay me $200,000 for naming a Tibetzu robber a few weeks ago?"
He said, "Remember I told you about the Rochelle case, the missing child? The parents are rich lottery winners. They paid $600,000 plus a $200,000 bonus. And my first three cases did not involve Echo, so the money was split two ways. Right now Sheree, the new assistant, gets fifteen percent; me and my cousin split the rest down the middle."
She said, "Whatever the case, you probably still have at least three or four hundred grand. I'll give you $120,000 back if you shut down Godsend and start a business with me. We have two beautiful girls who need us both alive."
He said, "Damn. You're willing to sacrifice 120 of what I paid you? I like you even more now." He considered something. "I like Godsend and the unique service it provides. I won't lie; I even like running across people who think they got away with murdering women and elderly people and kids."
She said, "And gay people."
"Not really. Sometimes I may take a case if I think the murder involves discrimination of any kind. My mom was killed by a KKK member when I was young. So . . ."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Anyway," he said, "I'm thinking about finishing up the case I'm on, taking a month off to spend with my new family, and then clearing the caseload that I agreed to work. After that, I believe I'll turn Godsend over to Echo. Yeah, I can promote him to President while I retire."
She said, "Is that a promise?"
He thought about his daughter, "Yep. That's a promise." He smiled as he thought about his cousin. "Somebody's ass is in trouble when Echo starts running shit. And he's gonna take all kinds of cold cases and missing persons cases."
She climbed on top of him and threw the covers back. She placed her hands on his chest and said, "I believe you have a good heart, and I can't wait to live with you."
CHAPTER 11
SPRING VALLEY LANE was in a wonderful neighborhood. The home at 1304 was valued at $908,200 as recently as six months ago. Five bedrooms, 2 ½ baths, den, dining area, two-car garage, wrap-around driveway with a large palm tree in the middle of the front yard. The setting was worthy of a magazine cover.
At 9:25 p.m., Abul al-Shaziz waited for the electric garage door to open then parked inside. His wife and her new Audi were still missing, but he believed her disappearance was only a test. He got out of his rental Jaguar-the brakes on his Camry were too risky-and entered his home from the side door. Using a keypad on the kitchen wall, he disabled the home alarm.
Abul reached the hallway and was thoroughly surprised when a black man stepped out of a bedroom aiming a silenced handgun at him.
Echo walked up to Abul and said, "Remember me? A few days ago you paid me twelve grand for a simple wreck."
"Yes, I remember. Are you here to rob me?"
"I suppose you can look at it that way." Echo heard noise coming from the bedroom he'd just left, but he knew it was Sheree. She was searching computer files. Echo smiled at Abul.
"Where are your daughters?"
"With their aunt."
"And your wife?"
"With them, at her sister's place."
Echo smiled again. "I kidnapped your wife almost thirty-two hours ago, and you still haven't filed a missing persons report. And you're standing here lying to me like ain't no penalty for that. Turn around."
Abul slowly turned around.
Echo aimed the gun at a rear pocket on the man's dress slacks and pulled the trigger, shooting Abul in the left buttock.
Abul hollered, took a reflex step forward, and fell to the carpeted hallway.
"I think you're a terrorist and you probably been trained for torture. But during your practice, I bet you ain't never been shot in the ass."
Abul said, "Please, please. I am not a terrorist."
"You're lying again, but I won't shoot you in your other ass half. Turn over. Look at me." Echo could clearly see pain in the man's face. "Whatever the fuck you're up to, you'll be glad to tell me about it in a few more minutes."
