Shepherd's Fall

by W. L. Dyson

  “Shem nonna jot klin weff toy.”

  Zeena inhaled sharply.

  15

  Friday, 5:30 p.m.

  White Marsh, Maryland

  Jessica turned the heat down under the broccoli and checked the fish fillets in the oven. Satisfied that they were nearly done, she called to Krystal and then started setting the table. By the time she was putting the brown rice into a bowl, Krystal had dropped down at the table, her iPod earbuds still in her ears, her shoulders shaking in time to the music she was listening to.

  Jessica put the rice on the table and pulled out one of Krystal's ear-buds. “You can turn that off during dinner.”

  Out came the bottom lip, forming her trademark pout. Jessica ignored it as she put the rest of dinner on the table.

  “I can't believe you're making me miss this party tonight.”

  Jessica raised an eyebrow. “I believe we've already discussed this topic, and it is now closed. Perhaps you would like me to extend your punishment?”

  Krystal smoked her with a look so angry and hot it could have burned her name in concrete. And knowing how upset her daughter was, Jessica figured that Krystal would prefer the concrete to be in the shape of a tombstone. And it wouldn't say “Beloved Mother,” either.

  The phone rang. Jessica took the receiver from the wall. “Hello?”

  It was Grace. “You're not going to believe this.”

  “What's that?” Jessica forked up a bit of fish and slid it into her mouth.

  “I just got a call from Mrs. Nelson. She wants to make some critical changes and needs to meet with you and me immediately. As in tonight, right now, not tomorrow.”

  “You're kidding.” Jessica set her fork down.

  “Nope. I'll pick you up in twenty minutes. Be ready for anything.”

  Jessica stood up, replaced the phone in the receiver, and carried her plate over to the sink, managing two more bites before she set the plate down. “I have to go to work for a couple hours. When you finish dinner, put the dishes in the sink, put away the leftovers, and if I'm not back before you go to bed, remember that I love you, and sleep tight.”

  “But it's Friday night,” Krystal whined.

  “And you are grounded.” Jessica hated leaving Krystal home alone on a Friday night. Besides the fact that she was actually looking forward to some mother-daughter time with her, she wasn't blind to her daughter's penchant for rebellion. But her job was resting on this Nelson account. And she couldn't say no to Grace. “Krystal, if I learn that you stepped out of our house even to get the mail, I will ground you for another month. Okay?”

  “Fine. Whatever.”

  “There's ice cream in the freezer. Help yourself, honey. I love you.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Jessica ran upstairs and quickly changed into a blue pantsuit, chose a silk scarf instead of trying to worry through jewelry choices, and slipped into a pair of flats. She grabbed her portfolio and ran downstairs, arriving at the coat closet just as Grace was pulling her Lexus into the driveway. She pulled out a beige overcoat, yelled to Krystal that she was leaving, and ran out to the car.

  Friday, 6:00 p.m.

  White Marsh, Maryland

  Krystal heard the front door shut and peeked around the corner. Her mom was gone. She put the dishes in the sink and ran to the front window. Grace's car was gone. Perfect. Her mom could threaten Krystal all she wanted, but she couldn't tie her to the house.

  Krystal ran upstairs and grabbed her cell phone. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she called her friend Hannah. “Hey, I can go. Can you guys pick me up?”

  “Yeah. Awesome! Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “Do you remember my cousin, Marcus? The cute one with the blue eyes?”

  Krystal smiled softly. “Like I could forget.”

  “Well, his band is playing at a club downtown tonight. The Stark Lily. We're going to go there instead of Lorianne's party. You up for it?”

  “Sure. Sounds great.” She was going to see Marcus again! That was worth all the trouble she was going to be in tomorrow.

  Friday, 6:20 p.m.

  Tent City, Baltimore

  Marti had been in an emotional tailspin ever since seeing her mother, and it was making it very hard for her to concentrate on her current task.

  She wandered through Baltimore's Tent City, trying to focus on the homeless people bunkered all around her. Tent City was a small strip of wooded land near the overpass to the interstate. It was used by transients and the homeless as a base for cardboard boxes and ragtag tents. Small fires were burning around the area. Men and women huddled around in small groups, watching Marti with wary eyes filled with desperation and pain.

  She stopped and asked about Zeena and Charlie a couple of times but only got the shake of a head and the turn of a shoulder. She was an outsider. They would give her nothing.

  Marti finally looked around and picked out two old men who looked like they could be easy marks. She walked over and knelt down in front of them, putting her hands out to their little fire. “I'm trying to find my friend Zeena. She's with Charlie. Have you seen them around?”

  They looked at each other, one scratching at his beard. Finally, one of them leaned forward. “He's hiding.”

  Bingo. This had to be the right Charlie. Now, to reel them in gently. “I know, but he's so good at hiding, I can't even find him to give him the money I owe him.”

  “I could give it to him,” the other man piped up eagerly.

  Marti shook her head. “Nice try. You know I can't do that. But if you help me find him, I'll tell him that, and I bet he'll give you a little reward.”

  One of the men, sporting a long gray beard, licked his hair-covered lips. Obviously the only reward he wanted came in a bottle. “He's out at the railroad yard. Down behind the storage units. One of them don't have no lock on it.”

  Marti gave them each five dollars. “Thank you, gentlemen. I appreciate it.”

  “You ain't gonna hurt him none, are ya?” one of the men said, holding on to his five-dollar bill with both hands.

  “No,” she assured them. “I promise you. I need to talk to Zeena, that's all.” As she went to stand up, one of the men reached out both his hands to the fire, and she saw the flicker of metal on his wrist. She eased back down. “Wow, that's a really nice watch.”

  The old man covered it with his other hand. “It's mine.”

  “Oh, I know it's yours. I just really like it. It's very pretty.”

  The old man took his hand away and pushed his sleeve back a little more to show it off with a toothless grin. “It's mine.”

  “And it's a very good watch. Have you had it long?”

  The old man's friend glared. “Some fancy-pants movie star gave it to him. Came through here a couple days ago wantin’ us to do work for him.”

  “Really? A movie star. Wow. That must have been exciting. Was it one of those stars I'd know?”

  The man with the watch shrugged. “Looked like a movie star.”

  “What did he want you to do?”

  “Burn down a building. Didn't do it. But I took the watch anyway.”

  The other man leaned forward conspiratorially. “Come down here acting like we're just dirty old criminals willing to do anything for a few bucks. We showed him.” He laughed into a coughing fit.

  The old man with the watch didn't look amused, though. He looked worried. “He might come back. Cuz we didn't burn the building down. He might come back.”

  “He might.” Marti agreed. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a few twenty dollar bills. “Tell you what. I'll buy the watch from you for what I have here. Eighty bucks. And you can tell him that you paid me to take care of it, okay?”

  The men looked at each other again and one nodded to the other. The watch was slowly removed and handed over to Marti, and her money disappeared.

  “What building?” She turned the Rolex watch over and looked at the inscription, then shook her head. She knew fr
om the moment that she'd seen it on the old man's arm that she had seen this watch before.

  “Some place down on the corner of Second and Market. A lawyer's office.”

  Yeah. It was a law office. It was also the Prodigal building. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate this.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out another twenty, and gave it to them. “You earned it.”

  With a parting smile, she stood up and walked away, sticking the watch into her pocket.

  A few minutes later, she climbed into Steven's SUV.

  “Did you find out anything?”

  “Yep.” She gave him the description of the railroad yard. “You know where they're talking about?”

  “CSX.” Steven started the engine. “I know exactly where it is.”

  She stuck her hand in her pocket and toyed with the watch. She'd have to keep it to herself until the right time. “Listen, Steven. I made you a promise, and I'm going to keep it. I think I'm going to be leaving soon.”

  Steven turned his head to look at her. “How soon?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Why, Marti? Can't you tell me why?”

  “It's all too painful, Steven. I'm not ready to talk about it, but being back here, seeing Mom… I just can't do this again. I need to go.”

  “Will you at least see Nick before you go?”

  “No.”

  “Well, consider this. Please sign the papers before you leave. I promise I'll put your share into a bank, and if you call me, I'll send you a bank card so that you can access the funds when you need to. We need to use our properties as collateral, Marti. Things are getting worse by the day.”

  Marti stared out the windshield. “That would mean staying until Monday.”

  “Yes. Just a couple more days, Marti. And then if you still need to leave, you can go with my blessing.”

  She turned and glared at him. “I don't need your blessing, Steven.”

  He reached out and touched her arm lightly. She jerked it away. “I just meant, stay and sign the papers, and if you want to go, I won't try and talk you out of it.”

  She hated herself for being this way with him, but she couldn't get a handle on the whirlwind inside her mind. She only knew one way to handle it. Run. Even though she'd never before been able to outrun the pain or the disappointment—or the resentment.

  Finally, she looked over at Steven. “Under one condition. Nick doesn't see me. He doesn't know I've been here until I'm gone. I can sign the papers and then leave. Then you can take them and do whatever it is you guys have to do to keep the business going.”

  Friday, 9:15 p.m.

  The Manchester Room Steak House, Baltimore

  Jon Carver pushed his plate to the side and sat back. He wiped his mouth and then tossed the napkin onto the table. “So, our holier-than-thou bounty hunter refuses to cooperate. That is regrettable, but it's his loss. I can't allow him to put my entire operation at risk. I've seen his men watching my home, and I have it from a reliable source that he's put a man undercover at the Stark Lily. It's time to hit this man where it hurts.

  “Scott, take out this new bouncer at the club. Give him a clear message to take back to his boss.”

  Richie picked up his glass. “I want the girl.”

  Jon gave Richie a hard stare. “We threatened the girl only to get the man to comply. It didn't work. We touch her now, and he'll be all over us, along with the police and most likely the Feds. I can't afford to do that right now, Richie. If you want the girl, take her after I move this shipment.”

  Richie continued. “Ira, take Lester. Go get the girl. And keep your masks on. I don't want her to be able to describe you.”

  “And if the kid's not home?” Ira asked.

  “Richie, can't this wait?” Jon interrupted.

  Richie ignored Jon's question as he continued to give Ira instructions. “Then wait for her to come home, and take her before she can get back in the house. Her mother will just assume she ran away from home, which would work better for me anyway.”

  Ira toyed with his steak knife. “Whatcha want me to do to the girl?”

  “I'll have Cutter watch her until Jon and I bring her father to her. Then both of them can go for a long swim.” Richie smiled.

  “Cutter is watching over my shipment.” Jon reached for the cream and poured it into his coffee.

  “And if we take the girl there to the harbor warehouse, Cutter can watch her and the shipment at the same time.”

  Jon threw up his hands. “You better not mess this up, Richie. I mean it.”

  “Relax, Jon. This'll be great. You'll see.”

  Jon watched Richie pour another drink. At least Richie wasn't going to try to retrieve the girl himself. He turned to Ira. “Have you heard from Iris?”

  Ira nodded. “Yeah. She didn't find the laptop, but Zeena is history.”

  “Tell her to keep looking. Zeena wouldn't have hidden it far from her nest. Make sure Iris knows there's a big bonus in it for her.”

  Lester came in and hurried over to Jon, leaned down, and whispered in Jon's ear. Then when Jon nodded, he hurried from the room.

  “You're in luck, Richie. It seems your girl is already out and about tonight. She's at the Lily.”

  Richie lifted his glass. “Ira. Go get her.”

  Friday, 10:30 p.m.

  The Stark Lily, Park Heights, Baltimore

  Conner rolled his shoulders and lifted his mug for the bartender to fill. The bartender walked over, grabbing the coffeepot on his way. “I hate the nights when they have a live band,” he yelled at Conner.

  “My ears will never be the same,” Conner yelled back. He put his back to the wall and sipped, watching the room. So far, he'd only had to escort two men out. One was so drunk that Conner wasn't sure he even knew he was being taken out, and the other wanted to beat up someone for looking at “his woman.”

  The band, a group of young foppish men that had drawn a large group of women to the club, were up on stage, banging out something they called music. It gave Conner a headache. Girls were dancing, laughing, hanging around the stage, and men in the crowd were working hard to draw the women's attention away from the band.

  Then the group parted and Conner saw her. He felt a surge of panic and anger. Krystal? In this place? What was she thinking?

  Setting his mug down on the bar, he wove his way through the crowd, shoving people out of his way to get to her. She didn't see him coming. He saw her lift a beer mug and take a drink. Had he been closer, he'd have slapped the thing out of her hands.

  By the time he got to her, she had turned back to the stage and was dancing in place. He put his hand on her shoulder. She turned around. And turned white.

  “Conner.”

  “Krystal. What are you doing here?”

  “I came with friends to see the band.” Then she lifted her chin. “I'm not doing anything wrong.”

  “First of all, you have to be eighteen to get in this club, which means you used a fake ID. That's wrong. Second, I saw you drinking beer, and you are underage. Wrong again.”

  “Just leave me alone, Conner. I just want to hear the band and then I'll go home. I won't drink anymore, if that's your problem. I only had a sip.”

  “No can do, Krys. It's my job to keep minors out, and you are a minor. You are leaving. Now.” He reached down, picked up her purse, and handed it to her. “I'll drive you home or I'll call your mom to come pick you up. Pick one.”

  Krystal turned red, sheepishly eying her friends, who were staring at her. Conner didn't care if she was embarrassed or not. She was leaving.

  “Fine. But Mom is out, so call my dad. But first I have to go to the bathroom.” Before Conner could grab her, she skirted around him through the crowd.

  Conner began to follow, only to have a young girl step in front of him. “Don't do this, mister. My cousin is in the band, and we just came here to listen.”

  “She's under eighteen, and I'm sure that if I look hard enough, so are you.”

  His gla
re got the desired effect. She backed off.

  Conner wove through the room, making his way to the back. What in the world was that girl thinking? Nick would have a heart attack if he found out she was here.

  There was a short line to the bathrooms, but Krystal wasn't in it. He looked around but didn't see her. Then he heard her call his name from the end of the hall. He walked down and turned left toward Henning's office.

  He stopped in his tracks.

  Ira had Krystal, his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close to him, a gun pressed to her temple.

  “Let her go, buddy.”

  The man smiled like a wolf licking his chops. “I don't think so. She's coming with me. Your job will be to tell your boss that no was the wrong answer.”

  “I don't know what you're talking about.” Conner was shocked. Who blew his cover? Conner steeled himself not to act panicked or reveal his shock.

  “I have to admit, the wig had us fooled. When Jon found out who you were, he near busted a gut.”

  “Look, buddy. I don't know what this is all about, but you need to let the girl go.”

  “I don't think so, Mr. Bounty Hunter.”

  Then Conner felt something slam into the back of his head. Everything went black.

  Friday, 11:30 p.m.

  Someplace near the Stark Lily, Park Heights, Baltimore

  Krystal had fought as hard as she could after seeing Conner knocked out, but she got too tired and couldn't get away. The two men had tied her hands and feet and gagged her. And they tossed her into the back of a van.

  Her dad had warned her, but she didn't listen. She thought he was being so typically parental, but she realized that he really had been trying to keep her safe. She felt so stupid. And now Conner was hurt really, really bad, and maybe even dead. She was in trouble and her dad didn't know and he might never know and they were probably going to kill her. All because she'd snuck out of the house. If she lived through this, her dad was probably going to ground her for life, send her to a private school, and never let her go anywhere ever again without Rafe or Conner going along as an escort to make sure she didn't sneak off someplace.