Once again, he opened the phone and dialed a number from memory. It rang three times before it was answered.
“Barry Davis.”
“Barry, you know who this is?”
“Talk a little more.”
“We worked together a few years ago, down in south Florida.”
“Yea I remember.”
“Need a favor and I’m paying.”
“Wet or dry?” Barry was asking if this was a job that was going to be bloody or not.
“Dry with the possibility of it getting wet.”
“How much?”
“Two-hundred and fifty.”
“Details.”
“Protection from a distance. She can’t know you're there. However, if trouble arises, do whatever is necessary.”
“You caught me in the middle of gator season, but for you…” he let the thought die.
Ronald gave him the details and Barry gave him the financial information for payment. Barry promised to head in and start right away. After Ronald finished with that call, he debated whether he should ditch the phone or not. Finally, he decided to toss it. After all, there was the message board and he could always get another phone. He took the battery out and then the SIM card. Ronald broke apart the SIM card and then got out and threw the phone in the trash. He would toss the SIM card out the window on his way home.
He turned the truck over and got back on the highway. When he was back in Grand Junction, he pulled out his phone, turned it back on and checked his messages. Finding none, he put the phone away and continued driving. Ronald needed to eat, but that would have to wait until he got home.
When Ronald crested the hill that led down into his driveway, he stopped and got out. There was a pair of NVGs behind the seat. After he had them on, he killed the lights of his truck and scanned the horizon for any sign of Tommy Bones. He still wasn’t sure if he had made it or if he was dead, but it paid to be careful. Finding nothing of interest, Ronald walked down to the house and checked for signs of activity. Satisfied no one had been there, he walked back up the hill to reclaim his truck. Ronald drove the rest of the way in the dark, preferring the NVGs instead of his headlights.
Once inside, Ronald made his way to the safe house. He checked the video recorders for prowlers. Satisfied he was alone, Ronald went to the fridge, made himself a sandwich and washed it down with a beer. In the coming days, he knew the cops would be out to talk to him at length. He had an out if he needed it, but it was only good for a one time use. After that, he would be on his own for the rest of his days.
He thought about making the call now but decided to wait until he knew he was going to need it. The man on the other end wouldn’t be happy to hear from Ronald but he was owed a favor and he aimed to collect. He got up and cleaned up his mess. Then he checked his monitors one more time. Satisfied, he walked over to the master bedroom and climbed into bed. Ronald kept his clothes on just in case he had to move quickly in the middle of the night. The last thing he did before he turned the lights down was check on the guns he always kept nearby. Then he closed his eyes and went to sleep. Tomorrow, Walt would be released and he was sure Walter would be just as mad. He smiled at the thought as he drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 25
Pete Star got up the next morning with a giddiness he hadn’t felt in a long time. Fritz had stood by in abject horror, watching wannabe tough guys fail over and over again. Pete had suggested more than once that contract labor was overrated and way overpaid. In fact, he had gone out of his way more than once to point out the vulgarities of success versus failure when you farmed out work that mattered. But he never listened. Fritz was an over-educated college boy who lived and died by his charts and graphs. Pete was the polar opposite of Fritz. Where Fritz had never gotten his hands dirty or had to wipe the sweat from his brow from over-excursion, Pete had been forced to do so more times than he could count.
Pete often wondered how long little boys with big degrees like Fritz would last if it weren’t for men like him. However, he knew Fritz would never have to suffer the indignities of hard labor in poor conditions with little to no pay. That was okay though, because at least Fritz recognized that without men like him, the Fritz’s of the world would be cannibalized while they were still alive.
He often took advantage of Fritz’s poor grasp of the realities of blue-collar men and women, who saw Fritz and his thousand dollar suits as nothing more than a paycheck. Many times Pete had come in behind the bean counters who had made offers that had gone over like a dead man on the dining room table. True, there had been times when he had to twist a few arms, literally and figuratively, to seal the deal. In the end though, Fritz always came back to Pete for help.
Like now, for instance, he had a female agent watching the Jacobs’ place. She had been in the restaurant when the failed attempt on the ex-cop took place. She had also been able to gain access to his records and report back to Pete that other than a bump on the head and some ancillary cuts, he would survive to fight another day. Pete had also found the wife and sister within a day, just by following a hunch and calling in a favor.
Now he was poised to make the largest payday of his life. The woman in Florida would be dead before sunset and Ronald Jacobs and the ex-cop would be dead very soon after. The best part was that the cops would never put it together and maybe next time, Fritz would come to him first instead of outsourcing every problem that came down the pike. In fact, Pete would see to Ronald himself. That would show Fritz what a chump Jacobs really was. He wasn’t the bogeyman after all. He wondered why college frat boys always cratered so fast when things got difficult.
Pete ambled into the kitchen, grabbed a cup from his cupboard and filled it with coffee. He reached over into a drawer, looking for a spoon, then dumped three heaped spoonfuls of sugar in and stirred it until the sharp, bitter taste was replaced by sweetness. He stood for a moment and planned out his day. It would look very good if he were in the office before Fritz. Checking the time, Pete saw he had a good two hours before Fritz would arrive. Smiling, he put the cup down and wandered back into the bedroom. He stripped off his shorts and climbed back into bed. The long blonde hair of his girl peeked out of the covers. He had plenty of time for a well-deserved reward. Pete reached around and tweaked her nipples. Her legs kicked at him, but he would not be denied on this morning.
Ninety minutes later, Pete pulled into the parking lot of CCO. He cruised by Fritz’s spot and frowned when he saw that Fritz was already there. No matter, Pete was still early and, other than his and Fritz’s car, the parking lot was empty. He headed straight for Fritz’s office armed with the news that would make all of the troubles go away.
He knocked on the door and then opened it without waiting for a response. Fritz, who was usually sitting behind his desk looking like a king receiving his subjects, was turned around and facing the floor-to-ceiling plate glass windows. Pete frowned but undaunted, headed over to his desk. He stood there for a minute, waiting for the almighty Fritz to acknowledge him. Irritated, he cleared his throat; Fritz jumped and then turned to face him.
“You have a problem knocking, Pete?”
Flustered, Pete said, “I did knock, several times in fact.”
“Did I tell you to come in?”
Now he was confused. “Ah… no… you didn’t, so I just thought…”
“You thought what? It’s okay to just barge in here unannounced?”
Pete backpedaled toward the door, his bravado displaced by fear and uncertainty. “I’m sorry Fritz, I just thought…”
“You thought what?”
“Nothing… I’ll call Sally and make an appointment.” Pete said as he was turning towards the door, humiliation climbing out of the collar of his shirt.
“PETE! Wait. Come back here.”
He was halfway through the door when he stopped and turned around. His body straddled the door frame. Pete looked expectantly towards his boss. His cheeks still flushed with the embarrassment that was steadily becoming anger. H
e flexed his hands back and forth into fists.
“Pete, please shut the door and come over here,” Fritz said. His tone had taken on an almost apologetic tone.
Pete stepped back into the office, his meaty hand closed around the door handle angrily as he shut the door behind him. He considered for just a moment, taking out the Glock and putting a bullet into his boss’s stomach. The image of Fritz writhing in pain on the plush carpet brought a smile to his face for just a second before he resumed the posture of a man in complete control. Pete squared his shoulders and walked back over to Fritz’s desk. He stopped in the middle of the room and waited.
Fritz waved him over and pointed to one of the chairs in front of his desk. In all the years they had worked together, Pete could count on one hand how many times he had sat in any office Fritz had held at CCO. He traversed the few feet to his desk and took the chair that was angled to the right. After he had taken his seat, Pete crossed his legs and appeared almost languid.
Fritz knew he had crossed an unspoken line with his head of security. Pete’s casual entry into his domain without an invitation had struck a chord. He worked to push down the personal insult. Fritz couldn’t afford to alienate him now. He was too close to realizing his retribution. When it was complete, maybe then it would be time to have Pete retired as well.
“I apologize for my outburst. Last night wasn’t the news I had hoped for and it has put me in a bit of a mood.”
Pete nodded, but didn’t respond.
Fritz leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands in front of him. “You were saying last night you would give me details?”
Pete cleared his throat before he began. “Last night, one of my agents was in the restaurant. She had followed the contractor from his hotel to the Jacobs property.”
Fritz started to speak, but Pete held up a hand that cut him off. “She maintained a position far enough away, she could monitor both the contractor and the occupants of the house. Around seven last night, the ex-cop left in Jacobs’s pickup and drove into town. She followed them to an address on the east side of town. Apparently, he was going on a date with a woman named Marcie Reynolds. She’s a cop in Fruita. After he picked her up, they went to a local micro-brewery. Our contractor followed them inside. My agent went also and sat where she could see both parties.”
“Who’s this agent?”
“One of mine, so don’t worry.”
Fritz nodded his head but didn’t speak.
“They were in there for about an hour and a half when the ex-cop got up to go to the john. Our man followed him in but he never came out.”
“Anybody mark your agent as one of ours?”
Pete shook his head. “No. When she heard screaming coming from the bathroom, she got up and left.”
“Okay, I kind of already know this from the news this morning. What don’t I know?”
“Jacobs went in the back door and must have interrupted our man. The cops are saying there was a fair amount of blood and they also found a garrote and a gun. The gun was unfired.”
“How do we know it was Jacobs?”
“When my agent left, she saw him walking on the street.”
“Can she make an ID? Maybe call in a tip?”
He shook his head again. “No, he was wearing a disguise, but she’s confident it was him.”
Fritz nodded again. “Still may be helpful down the line if it was called in. Maybe they get lucky. Did your agent follow Jacobs?”
Again he shook his head. “Tried to find the contractor but he gave her the slip. Far as we know he’s in Mexico, or he’s bled out somewhere and they just haven’t found the body yet.”
“Set up a call with Max. Maybe he knows where he got off to. Now tell me about the wife.”
Pete blew out his breath and then began. “She was fairly easy to trace. A PI firm out in Florida went by and ID’d her in less than thirty minutes.”
“Is this going to be a problem when she is retired? Because if it is, then we had better come up with a plan that doesn’t involve them going to the cops when her picture is plastered all over the evening news.”
“Already way ahead of you. I’ve already dispatched someone who has done this type of thing before. It’ll look like an accident.”
Fritz didn’t say anything for a while. He worked the news over in his mind, looking for cracks. There were a few, but they were unavoidable. “What are your plans for Jacobs and this ex-cop? What’s his name…?”
“Walker, Walter Walker.”
“Okay then, Walter Walker. How are you going to deal with them?”
“That depends on you. If it’s an accident, then it’s gonna take a few days to arrange but if not then probably today… tonight at the latest.”
“Cops already know somebody was after Walker so we can dispense with the accident approach. For that matter, it’s not going to matter when they find out the wife is dead too. So tell your man to just do it and then get out. Drive to another state if he has to but I want it done today, all of it today. We announce the day after tomorrow.”
Pete nodded his head and then stood up. “What time do you want to talk to Max?”
“Let’s make it around lunch. If he has a line on his guy, then I want him gone too.”
“What about Max?” asked Pete.
“Do we know where he’s located?”
“Tech guys I know traced him to an apartment in New York.”
“Then he goes too. Make sure all of his computer equipment is destroyed. No loose ends after today. Clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Pete, again, sorry about before, I’ve got a lot going on and I just snapped at you for lack of anyone else to yell out at.”
He nodded but didn’t respond. Pete turned and left Fritz’s office.
After he was gone Fritz swiveled his chair back around to face the plate glass window. He caught the last few minutes of the sun rising over Grand Mesa. The bright sunshine emphasized the pure white snow cap. It empowered his vision of a new beginning as he thought about what was at stake. If all went well tonight, then tomorrow he would celebrate with Linda and put his past behind him for good. Fritz turned back around and started to work on his speech.
Chapter 26
After Pete left Fritz’s office, he hurried downstairs to his own. There was a lot to do and very little time to get it accomplished. Arranging for the systematic destruction of four people who were scattered all over the country in a single day was an enormous undertaking. Thankfully, he had the foresight to plan ahead.
He was almost giddy with excitement. The humiliation Pete had suffered just a minute ago had already been forgotten. Max and his contractor had failed miserably. Now it was time for Pete to prove once and for all why he and his agents were all that was needed to keep Common Core Oil out front and protected from harm. Pete’s office was located two floors below his boss’s office. His footsteps thundered on the concrete steps as he took them two at a time. He stormed into his office with authority and proceeded to his desk. Sitting down and taking out his black book of contacts, he began thumbing through the pages, looking for just the right tools for each job. The agent he had dispatched to Walker’s ex-wife’s house was good, but not quite what he needed. Pete flipped back and forth between a few pages, looking at the coded initials he had used to identify two sets of agents he had used in the past. Each pair was a male / female team he had used before, for very specific projects. He preferred to use women for projects where the target was a woman. He had found over the years that women weren’t as particular and had fewer issues with killing other women than men did. He also liked to have a man as backup in case anything went wrong.
Pete settled on a team out of the panhandle of Florida. He had used the unique identifiers “D” and “G” instead of their names. The letters for each person, however, had nothing to do with their names. Pete pulled open the middle desk drawer and selected a burner he had never used before. The SIM card in it was from Eastern Europe,
which would further insulate him and CCO in case things went south. After it was powered up, he made the call. The agent he had identified as “G” answered the phone.
“I have a project that needs to be completed today, you available?” Pete said as a way of hello.
“Give me the details.”
Pete nodded his head and then said. “I’ll send it the way I did the last time.”
“Call you when it’s done.”
He ended the call and then repeated the process for a team that he had used in New York. After that, he leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk as he thought about Ronald Jacobs and Walter Walker. Pete, unlike Fritz, had no pictures of the famous in his office, or awards given to him by civic leaders. His walls were barren of decorations, as was his desk. Pete didn’t view his office as a sign of success. No, as far as he was concerned, his awards came in the form of silence. The maw of the machine had to move forward without any impediments and it was his job to ensure the public perceived CCO as part of the community.
He smiled to himself and then reached for the phone on his desk. Pete dialed the number to his house.
The long-haired blond answered on the fourth ring. “What is it?” she asked.
“Need you to get up and get your lovely ass in here. It’s time for you to do more than sit around all day doing nothing.”
“Fuck off.”
“See you in a half hour. If you’re good, I’ll give you some when you get here.”
She hung up the phone without answering. Pete again leaned back in his chair and thought about the final target, Ronald Jacobs. He would take care of him, himself. And when he was done with him, he’d take a trophy and present it to Fritz. Like maybe Ronald Jacobs’ severed head mounted on the end of a pike, hung up on the wall in his office. Or maybe a YouTube video of his last moments so he could watch the light drain from his eyes over and over again. He shook his head to clear the macabre thoughts and then stood up and walked over to the wall safe that was hidden behind a picture of the first oil rig he and Fitz had worked on years ago. Moving the picture aside, he spun the dials back and forth until the tumblers fell into place. He kept several sensitive files and some money inside, but what he was looking for was in a cloth sack in the back. He grabbed it, closed the safe and went back to his desk. He opened the bag and reached inside. As he started to empty the contents onto his desk, he stopped and looked over at the door to his office.
On The Devil's Side of Heaven Page 19
