A Toy for Christmas

by Mary Jane Forbes

  Giving Manny a quick hug, Charley slipped by him following the aroma of coffee.

  Liz greeted her with a hug then grasped her hand. “Come, come to our war room. No cork boards filled with clues or pics of bad guys today. You caught us between cases. Me between cases that is. Manny’s always stalking bad guys.”

  “Here’s the flash drive, Liz. Pull it up on your computer?”

  “Yes, Manny has it connected to the TV. Nothing but high-tech around here,” she giggled.

  “OK, show time!” Charley said.

  Thirty seconds into the video, Manny leaned forward in his chair. “Pause it, Charley. Back up a few seconds, please.”

  “What’s the matter, Manny? Did you see something?”

  “Not sure, maybe. Isn’t that ABC Trucking?”

  “Yes. Michael took the video as an example of how useful the drone can be to sell commercial property, or for the status of a construction site. Look at the detail. A contractor could see an error in the works, zoom in like under a microscope. Catch it before it was too late, before a big run up in cost to fix the problem.”

  “When did Michael shoot the video?”

  “About three weeks ago. Before the guys went to Vegas.”

  “Can you close in on that green truck? It’s a front shot. No license plate unless there’s a shot of the rear later.”

  “Whoa, partner, a break in a case?” Liz asked perching on his lap.

  “I don’t know, but it sure is a distinct green. Can I store a copy of your file on my computer, Charley? Any copyright on—”

  “Sure, make a copy. Michael shot it for me to show Rachel, my boss at the agency. I was trying to get her interested in videos captured by a drone. The aerial shots are spectacular as you can see. I’ve already started an online course to be a pilot,” she said as Liz topped off her coffee.

  “What’s the course like, the pilot stuff? It sounds very exciting. Let me know when you get your blades…a drone doesn’t have wings. Wings are so yesterday,” Liz said laughing.

  “Here you go, Charley. Thanks for the copy,” Manny said handing her the flash drive.

  “Not a problem. Gotta run. Bye for now.”

  “Keep in touch, Charley,” Liz called out as she shut the door.

  “Okay, husband of mine, what’s up that sleeve of yours along with your massive bicep?”

  “Stitch, that green truck in Charley’s video.” Manny walked to his desk, pointed to the image he paused on the screen.

  “It’s a pretty green…not dark, more lime. Have you seen it before?”

  “I think so. I’m calling my agent buddy in Miami. See if this trips any wires in his head. The name of Jose Ramirez has surfaced a few times lately in the DBPD reports.”

  Chapter 39

  ────

  GEOFF KINGMAN FEARED HE was losing his access to cash. His so called friend Jose Ramirez kept dangling a job in front of him then threatened to jerk the carrot away. Backed into a corner sleep was elusive. Tossing and turning, he ran through different scenarios on how to handle his precarious situation. He decided he had to confront his friend, make him understand that he knew the rules of the game and was in all the way but he had to be paid.

  Words ran through his head as he was buzzed through the gate and stepped in the front entrance. A man he’d never met strode out of the office.

  The man stood staring at him with black beady eyes over a black bushy mustache. The man’s black hair trimmed at the neck shined with gel.

  Geoff extended his hand. “Hello, I’m Geoffrey Kingman. I work with Mr. Ramirez. Is he in?” Geoff dropped his hand. The man was not accepting the gesture.

  “He’s not here, stepped out on business.”

  “Who are you? Ramirez and I have a deal. I’m like his partner.”

  “I’ve heard him speak of you, but he’s not here.”

  The front door swung open and Charley, all smiles, stepped in. “Dad, fancy seeing you here…talking business I presume.” Charley glanced at the man staring at her father, his eyes moving to her. “Hi, I’m Charley King. I guess you know my dad. I’m here to see Mr. Ramirez. I work for his wife at the real estate agency. I wanted to ask Mr. Ramirez if I could use the video a friend shot…a good exhibit of what a drone can see at construction sites. I’ve been scouting out companies interested in selling their properties.”

  “How did you get in?” the man asked.

  “The gate was open. Is there a problem?” she said with a megawatt smile.

  “Ramirez told me of this video.”

  “Wonderful. Then you know how great it is. I was hoping—”

  The man pushed the button on the intercom mounted on the wall. “Skeeter, come to bay 1. Now! Excuse me folks. I’ll be right back.”

  “Dad, who’s that man?” Charley said.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never met him before. You shouldn’t be here. Stick with selling houses, or get a stable job as I suggested before.”

  Charley turned away, swallowing the words she was about to spit out.

  ────

  Mustache man stepped out to the garage. Grabbing Skeeter’s elbow he shoved the Latino away from the office windows. “The two in the front?”

  “Ya? What about them?” Skeeter said.

  “They need a ride. Now! Let me know when the truck in Bay 5 is ready to leave, then I’ll send them out to you. I’ll tell them that Ramirez asked to see them and that I’ve arranged transportation…if you know what I mean. Make it fast and clean. I saw Hector. Is he the driver?”

  “Ya,” Skeeter said, hands on his hips, squinting at his new boss, Enrique Vasquez.

  “Get him in the truck, now. And Skeeter, move those folks’ cars to the back of the lot.”

  “Got it. I’ll go talk to him, explain the special cargo—two people need a ride, no big deal,” Skeeter said. “I’ll do the final check on the cargo then come back to the office.”

  Skeeter hustled to Bay 5 then returned to the office, telling Vasquez the truck was ready to leave.

  “Good.” Vasquez returned to the pair standing by the front door. “I have good news, Mr. Kingman, Miss King. Ramirez says he’ll meet you both. He’s attending to business at another site. The truck in Bay 5 is leaving momentarily to meet with Ramirez, drop his cargo. There’s no room in the cab for you but you’ll be comfortable in the rear of the truck for the short ride. In fact, Ramirez said he was going to call you within the hour. Nice the way things work out, isn’t it. I asked my foreman to make sure you’re comfortable. Please follow me, come along.”

  “But, Mr. Ramirez doesn’t know why I’m here. His wife—”

  Charley began to say following her dad through the office to the garage, but the man cut her off.

  “Ah, yes, his wife. As I said, Ramirez was going to call you. The garage door is up. Come on, folks. The driver is ready, motor’s humming. The truck is backed tight to the platform…no climbing a step ladder. You come with me. Watch your step now. Let me help you nice folks into the truck. There are two chairs just for you in the back. That’s it little lady.”

  Geoff took Charley’s elbow as they stepped from the loading dock into the truck. Stumbling, he turned back to Skeeter. “Hey, I don’t see—”

  The truck door slid down the tracks slamming shut knocking them forward into total darkness.

  The motor revved. The truck lurched forward, picking up speed as it rolled out of the garage, along the back parking lot, out the back gate as it electronically opened and then swung shut after two cars drove in and parked.

  “Charley?” Geoff whispered. “Where are you? I can’t see.”

  “Here, Dad. Do you feel that? Your foot?”

  Geoff leaned forward, reaching out in front of him, waving his hand in the air. “Here’s my hand…feel it?”

  Charley waved her hand, inching forward, touching his leg.

  “Take my hand. Yes, yes, that’s it.” Geoff pulled his daughter to him, tucking her head under his chin.
<
br />   “Are you okay, Charley? You didn’t hurt yourself did you? I fell…I didn’t see you.”

  “I know. Are you okay?” she whispered.

  “My left ankle…smarts a bit.”

  “Why are we in this truck? What are we going to do?” Charley whispered.

  “We listen. When that fellow Skeeter yelled to the driver that the truck was ready to roll…I couldn’t hear any more. Did you pick up what he said?”

  “No,” Charley said. “It happened so fast I didn’t get a good look at the truck. I was looking where I was walking. I don’t even know the color. Darn!”

  “What’s the matter…ouch.”

  “Sorry, did I kick your ankle?”

  “I’ll live but what are you doing, Charley?”

  “Who was that man? And where was Mr. Ramirez? I think we’re in trouble…this is crazy. What’s going on?” Charley sat forward patting the pockets in her slacks.

  “I don’t know who he was. Stop your fidgeting,” Geoff said.

  “I’m looking for my cell. I thought it was in my pocket…I’m going to crawl toward the door…feel around for it. I dropped my tote when I fell forward…it might be there…maybe my phone. I can call for help.”

  “Be careful and keep talking so I know where you are.”

  “Sure. Dad, did you get a look at what’s in the truck? Smells like produce.”

  “Talk louder, Charley, I can’t hear you over the engine.”

  “Ouch!”

  “What happened?” Geoff said.

  “My leg…a nail or something. I CAN’T FIND MY TOTE…CELL PHONE. I THINK THE TRUCKS PACKED WITH…WHATEVER. I DON’T KNOW. SMELLS SWEET. I’M COMING BACK.”

  “CHARLEY, SOMETHING’S ON MY LEG.”

  “Ooo, itsy bitsy spider climbed up the waterspout…” Charley giggled.

  “Charley, that’s not funny.”

  “I know. Sorry. So what do you think they’re going to do with us? All I wanted was permission to use the video Michael shot of the outside of the building. You’d think I’d committed a crime. Let’s scooch as far back as we can, give us something to lean against and we won’t fall out when they open the door.”

  “Maybe they thought you had uncovered one of their crimes,” Geoff said as Charley nestled against him.

  Charley pulled away from her dad, sat cross-legged, the palm of one hand on his chest grounding her to him.

  “That’s a weird thing to say. What makes you say that—uncover their crimes?”

  The truck rounded a corner throwing her on top of Geoff. A crate crashed to the floor a few feet away.

  “You okay?” Geoff said grasping for her hand.

  “Yes. You?”

  “Yes.” Geoff hitched himself up tighter to the back wall of the truck. Leaning his head back, he let out a long breath of air. “You said you think we’re in trouble. Well…I agree this could be serious…we may be in big trouble. Does anyone know you were coming to ABC Trucking?”

  “I told Kitty, one of the agents as I ran out. I think she heard me. It must have registered with her because Rachel’s husband owns the place. I stopped to see Liz and Manny for a few minutes. They know. I think I told them. Maybe not. Do you know why…I hate to say it, but do you know why that man is kidnapping us?”

  “Not exactly.” Geoff laid his hand over hers on his chest.

  “Not exactly? What does that mean? Why are you agreeing with me—kidnapping? You’re sounding very strange, Dad.”

  Charley felt a knot forming in her stomach as fear began to take hold of her body. Breathing was suddenly difficult. She’d never been in danger before, but this was beginning to feel like a life or death situation. If only she had her phone. She racked her brain over what she said to Liz as she left. She couldn’t remember. They were talking about ABC Trucking but did she say she was going there?

  She felt her dad squeeze her hand. He started talking, almost a whisper.

  “You probably don’t remember, but more than ten years ago the economy took a nose dive. Money for commercial construction dried up. I almost went under. Jose Ramirez loaned me a substantial amount to keep me afloat…more than afloat. It was enough so I could bid on some big jobs and Jose also had a hand in seeing that I got the contracts. I didn’t realize how big a hand, and it wasn’t until lately that he began demanding that I repay the loan. Except now he was charging more than fifty percent interest. But he said if I helped him I could work off the amount I still owed…which was substantial.”

  “What did he want you to do?”

  “Periodically he was short a driver for some cargo out of Miami. I’d drive a van, sometimes a small truck, from a warehouse to his garage here. There were other times the cargo was shifted in the garage to larger trucks, and I’d transport it to Georgia, South Carolina, Tennessee. The cargo would be unloaded and I’d deadhead the truck back to Daytona Beach.”

  “I remember you being gone at times…a few days. So, you were paying down a loan?”

  “No. I was getting in deeper and deeper in his drug smuggling operation.”

  “Oh, my God. Drug smuggling?”

  Chapter 40

  ────

  THE SUN WAS BRIGHT, humidity low, and it was the last day of dog-sitting duties for Tavis unless the Springers called to say otherwise. Anxious to see Charley, he turned into Ramirez Real Estate. “Here we are, Bentley. Time to say hello to our best girl. Maybe she’ll have lunch with us. Whatta you think?” Tavis exited the truck, leaned in and snapped the leash on Bentley’s collar. Bentley took a squat on the grass, scratched at the green turf, and then trotted happily with Tavis into the agency.

  “Oh, hello. You’re back. Can I help you?” Kitty said with a broad smile. She was on greeter duty.

  “Maybe. I’m looking for Charley. Is she here?” he asked looking around. Kitty and a young man were the only ones on the floor.

  “Sorry, she went to see a client. Is there anything I can do?”

  Bentley was pacing, nose to the carpet. He began pulling Tavis toward the back. “Hey, come on, boy. Charley’s not here. Let’s—”

  Bentley was now pulling hard on the leash. It was all Tavis could do to hold his ground. “OK, OK, go ahead. Miss, it looks like my dog has a mind to take a look around…Bentley, stop it.”

  Bentley was whining in front of a door, pawing at the floor.

  “Miss—”

  “My name’s Kitty,” she said laughing. “It leads to the back door. Go ahead you can open it.”

  Tavis opened the door and Bentley went through like a shot, yanking the leash from his hand.

  A man was lying on the floor. He appeared to be unconscious.

  Tavis knelt by his side. Shook his shoulders. Felt his wrist for a pulse. Opening the man’s jacket, he glanced up at Kitty. “Call 9-1-1. Tell them a man is unconscious and that I’m starting CPR. Tell them to hurry. I’m can’t find a pulse.”

  Kitty stood rooted to the floor.

  “Call 9-1-1. Hurry! What’s the matter? You know him?”

  “Yes. It’s Rachel’s husband, Mr. Ramirez.”

  “Go. Go. Go. Call for help.”

  Kitty rushed out as Tavis initiated CPR.

  Bentley, his tongue hanging out, sat stoically beside Tavis.

  Within minutes Tavis heard the siren as the Medi-van turned into the parking lot.

  Kitty led two men and a woman to the back.

  Bentley started barking as the men knelt by the body.

  “You ever get a pulse?” the woman asked without looking up at Tavis. She and the other two medics carefully rolled the body on his back.

  “I thought maybe, but he never responded.” Tavis picked up the leash, ordered Bentley to sit, to be quiet. Looking up at his temporary master, the dog complied with his order. From the moment Tavis became the sitter not only for the spooky house, but also for the dog, he felt Bentley was highly trained, but the Springers were gone before he could ask. Maybe the Great Dane was part Blood Hound. He instinctively knew
something was wrong on the other side of the door.

  The lead medic opened the defibrillator case, but before he could take it out the woman pronounced the man dead.

  The medic holding the defibrillator looked up at Kitty. “Do you know this man?”

  “Yes, he’s the owner’s husband. Jose Ramirez.”

  “Is Mrs. Ramirez here?”

  “No, she’s showing a house to a client.”

  The back door opened. Rachel stood silhouetted against the brilliant sun.

  “What? Jose? JOSE!” Rachel rushed to her husband, collapsing on her knees beside him. She shook his arm. “No. No. No. Jose.” She looked across her husband’s body at the medic with a piece of equipment in his hands. “Do something. Do something.”

  “Mrs. Ramirez?” the medic said.

  “Yes. Yes. For God’s sake, do something.” She looked back at her husband, picked up his limp hand, holding it to her cheek.

  “I’m very sorry, Mrs. Ramirez. Your husband is dead. Did he have a heart condition?”

  “No. Not that I know of.” Tears began streaming down her face. Taking Jose by the shoulders, she shook him. “Jose, come back. Come back.”

  “Mrs. Ramirez, who’s your husband’s doctor? I’ll call him. He can meet us at the funeral home. He’ll need to determine cause of death, or he can meet us at the morgue.”

  “Morgue? Good God, no. Kitty…Kitty, please give him the doctor’s number…and…lookup the funeral home on Nova.” Through her tears, Rachel again held her husband’s hand to her cheek. Sobbing softly, her body began to quiver.

  Kitty handed a piece of paper to the medic with the address of the funeral home. “I called the doctor. He said he’d call the Director. He said to go ahead and take Mr. Ramirez. The doctor will meet with him in an hour.” Her voice a monotone, she managed to get the words out as she stared at the dead man.

  Tavis bent down, touched Rachel’s shoulder. “Mrs. Ramirez, here’s a handkerchief. Let me help you up.”

  “Who are you?” she asked, taking the white hanky, blotting her eyes.