The Dragon Tree Legacy

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The Dragon Tree Legacy Page 26

by Ali Vali


  “You making any stops?”

  “I doubt I’ll find him, but I have to try this guy Gillis’s address before he finds out about his crew. There’s no way he’s the top guy with this caliber of help, but I have to keep working my way up until I find who ordered those guys to kill Maria.”

  “You’re not going alone, so don’t start complaining. I’ll give you ten minutes to make it to your car before I follow you.”

  “Let’s check out his house before we call the cops about our friends back there. Unless someone takes their dog out, they should be fine for another hour or so.”

  The address Mitch had given them appeared to belong more to a user than a dealer, but Wiley walked the entire perimeter carefully. Thankfully there weren’t any trip wires, like some of the stash houses in South America and Mexico, but the surveillance cameras outside were worth more than the house. Whoever Emray was, he knew his stuff.

  Every window was covered, but she doubted anyone was inside since both the front and back entrances had their iron gate doors chained and padlocked with the locks facing out. This wasn’t Emray’s home, it was his office.

  “Anything?” Don asked. He was parked down the street acting as her lookout.

  “I’d say his local Radio Shack loves him, but these cameras are high-end,” she said as she climbed a tree to cut one down. “They’re all wireless, so I’m going to have to walk around inside to see where the signal is going to.”

  “Don’t hang up.”

  She dropped the camera by the back-door steps and picked the lock after she checked every inch of the door for nasty surprises. The outer door was clean, but the inner door was unlocked, a major red flag, so she went back for the camera and used it to smash out the glass top half of the door.

  The army-issue land mine was set up with a wire across the bottom of the door. Anyone who made it through the lock would’ve stepped about an inch inside before taking out every windowpane in the neighborhood as well as themselves. “Interesting security system,” she said as she carefully climbed in.

  “What is it?”

  “Land mine rigged to blow by swinging open the door.” The rest of the house was fairly empty, and the front door was free of booby traps. “You’re going to have to come disarm this thing. I don’t want to leave it.”

  “Where’d he get a land mine?”

  “It’s drab green. Is that enough of a hint?”

  “If it’s army issue, there’s a serial number on the firing mechanism. That won’t tell us who, but we can narrow down the location where it was taken from.”

  She finished her sweep as Don was talking, finding no other explosives. The computer on the kitchen-counter screen was split into ten boxes, each displaying a section of the yard except the middle top. That was gray static from the camera she’d taken down. She didn’t find any saved footage on the hard drive, so she assumed the feed was being stored off-site via the Internet.

  Everything she saw added up to Emray not being your average dealer.

  “Head to the front and cover me,” Don said as he climbed in. “Hand me the toolbox I borrowed from your car.”

  “Want me to hold the flashlight?”

  “I work better on these without an audience, so go and make sure no one surprises me into blowing myself up.”

  It didn’t take Don long to join her with the disk under his arm and the firing pin in his hand. “Do you need to make any more stops?” he asked.

  “Just one, why?”

  “I don’t want to drive around with this thing any longer than I have to, but one more stop won’t kill us.”

  “Interesting choice of words.” She took her tools back and opened the trunk of Don’s rental.

  “Where to?”

  “Back to where we started, at Natalie’s, but this time we knock.”

  *

  Emray watched from two blocks away, laughing when the black-dressed person headed to the back of the house. His only regret now was he hadn’t made it a remote detonator. He was too far away to see whoever it was clearly, but if he took out whoever this new player was, it’d be worth the loss of the house.

  “Mitch, when I find you, I’m going to shove my phone down the hole I’m going to make in your forehead,” he said when Mitch didn’t answer his cell. Since Freddie wasn’t answering either, the two morons were probably together. Mitch had shown promise but couldn’t handle the pressure of the big leagues, so it was time for a performance evaluation before Emray moved on.

  The competition was getting in the way, and the cops were getting better organized, so he was ready to head back to his place in Colombia. There wasn’t as much money in the plants and production, but it was much lower profile than this. If he left now, no one would ever know who Emray Gillis was, especially Hector Delarosa’s people. When he found the cash and the kilos Roth had brought in, it’d take him less than a year to reach his goal.

  While people like Nunzio and Hector ran around posturing, he’d been working on the easiest part of the business to take over—the land and the crops. With the wages he paid the grunts harvesting his fields, a majority of the field hands that worked for him had abandoned Hector’s agricultural efforts for the reality of bigger paychecks.

  No one paid attention because nothing had changed as far as who they supplied it to, but with the money Maria hid, that’d change in a day. Then Hector, Nunzio, and every other loser who wanted the hassle of the streets could have that part of the business. To get it to the streets, though, they’d have to start with him. Ultimately he wanted to control the supply. The demand would work itself out then.

  “But I still want the money.” He punched the seat next to him. “I’m not leaving without it, and I’ll be goddamned if I’ll let that little bitch walk away with it.”

  Whatever Maria had done with it had kept it buried successfully, but he was getting close. When he saw what the guy was carrying, he punched the seat again. “Fuck.”

  Though, he thought when his anger cleared, if Mitch couldn’t find the duffels, these people could. He just had to find a way to them and explain the consequences of failure.

  *

  “You see it?” Don asked.

  “Peel off from me and see what happens.” She’d spotted the car too and was impressed with the distance they were able to maintain without losing them. “Where are you dropping your package?”

  “I’m headed to the airbase on the west bank of the river for the disk, but I’ll let Carl run down the numbers. You still want to head over for your visit?”

  “Not tonight, so run your errand and call me when you get to your room.”

  Don made a U-turn when he could, but their tail stayed with her. At the next traffic light she slowed so she’d catch the light, but whoever was driving pulled to the side way back. She wouldn’t be able to see the driver’s face.

  Wiley waited until the signal changed before turning toward the zoo, which was still closed. She wanted to see how brave her new friend was, so she turned into the parking lot and swiveled back around to face the oncoming car. The idiot behind the wheel gunned the engine like a juvenile, making the car jerk forward a few feet.

  “Buckston Gremillion taught me a long time ago that attitude is everything,” she said as she put her SUV in drive.

  She stomped the accelerator to the floor and headed right for the sedan. In this game you were either a chicken or chickenshit, and the macho behind the wheel was the latter. She still hadn’t seen his face, but no woman she knew would taunt someone by revving her engine. Before she got anywhere near the car, the driver put it in reverse and did a decent job of driving backward at a high rate of speed.

  “I don’t really have time for this, but I have loner tendencies, asshole,” she said as she chased the car down and bumped fenders with him. “I detest anyone following me.” The black Camaro with black-tinted windows screamed muscle car, but the Suburban outweighed and outgunned it. She flipped her bright lights on and disengaged her air bags s
o she could smash the hell out of him. The advantage was hers now.

  She wasn’t interested in seeing the driver’s face. Her priority was making it to the end of the street without hitting any oncoming traffic. The massive levee along the river was her goal, so she put it in low gear and four-wheel drive to push the sedan up the embankment. She could hear the squeal of his brakes, and the back of the car was fishtailing as the driver cut the wheel to break away, but she refused to let up.

  “You’d better pray that pretty car likes water,” she said as the car reached the top and started down the incline. Wiley braked when her front wheels dipped down, and she waited to see what the driver would decide. This was his only chance at surrender.

  As if reading her mind the driver cut his tires, turned his lights off, and turned sharply so he could drive along the embankment, as if trying to put as much distance between them as he could manage. She watched, deciding to let him go. She’d had her fill of killing for one night. Whoever Emray was, his people were determined to follow every lead until he got his money, because whoever was in the Camaro had to have been sitting on the house waiting. That strategy showed patience and cunning, whereas Maria’s death was sloppy and cruel. Wiley was no profiler, but the vastly different approaches were, in her mind, psychotic.

  She drove back to the zoo parking lot so she could survey the damage and to center her emotions. This situation was like a hydra. She cut off a couple of heads and another one popped up ready to either expose her secrets or take her down.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “No, I’m in your studio looking at the ocean piece,” Aubrey said. “It’s beautiful.”

  “It’s the coast off Big Sur.”

  “You know what it reminds me of?”

  “I couldn’t guess,” she said as she buckled her seat belt. “We never went to California together.”

  “It reminds me of how you touched me. You were meticulous in your detail, and your technique always made me feel beautiful. You always knew every nuance of what I wanted, and you gave it to me.”

  “Now might not be a good time to talk about that.” The words made her want to go home, but her desire to destroy the threat won out—for now at least.

  “Probably not, but I need you to know how much I missed you.”

  “A lifetime of apologies won’t be enough, will it?” She headed back toward St. Charles and any one of the abandoned buildings along the side streets.

  “Did what you feel for me die when you walked away?”

  “No.”

  “Did it when you found out about Maria and Tanith?” Aubrey asked, her voice soft and seductive.

  “No.”

  “Then you don’t ever need to apologize for something you saw as necessary. I do want you to come home.”

  “One stop, then I’m done for the night.”

  “Maybe done, but not for the night.”

  *

  Natalie stood at the French doors that led to the large backyard and stared at the faint outline of trees she could make out at the fence line. The floodlights made it appear like noontime when they were lit, but it would’ve also marked them as different, and she wanted desperately to blend. Being different was an invitation for the animals who wanted her dead to knock her door off its hinges.

  “What’s wrong? Did you hear or see something?” her brother Brian asked. Both their lives had become an endless road of eggshells where every step could lead to disaster.

  “No, I couldn’t sleep.” She studied Brian’s reflection and for the hundredth time cursed herself for involving him. “I’m fine, so go to bed. No sense in both of us being tired tomorrow.”

  “Come on.” Brian came close enough to take her hand. “I’ll make you some of that tea you like.”

  She allowed him to lead her away, even though her gut said to stay vigilant. It was time to get the hell out of here and enjoy everything her time with Roth had brought her. The morning couldn’t come soon enough.

  Wiley waited for Natalie to move before she left her position by the magnolia tree in the corner of the yard. She’d already disabled the alarm system on her way to the back, so she’d spent her time leaning against the thick trunk and watched Natalie staring out at the darkness. Not a smart move on Natalie’s slash Willow’s part.

  The man coming out in his boxers saved her from finding another way in, because while she could prevent them from calling for help, she couldn’t keep them from shooting at her. Their phone lines had gone with the alarm, but there was no telling how many weapons Roth’s girlfriend had stashed around the house.

  She couldn’t hear the conversation in the kitchen, but she could see both of them as she unlocked the door. As soon as she felt the click, she took one of her guns from her holster and moved fast. The man she’d met earlier stood motionless with a mug in one hand and teapot in the other.

  “I hate to come in uninvited, but I need a few more answers,” she said as she drew out the other gun and pointed at Natalie. “If you think you can make a move on me, don’t go there. All I want is for you to be honest, but if you can’t, you can’t.”

  “You’re going to kill us?” the man said, obviously being brave enough to put down everything he held.

  “You shouldn’t waste time wondering if I’ll kill you or if it’ll bother me.”

  “What do you want?” Natalie asked.

  “Why lie about your name?”

  “Ever since Roth was arrested, we haven’t been safe. I promised him we’d stay long enough to hand over the information he had, then I’d take off. Roth thought it was the only way to shake the vultures who’d come to feed on his dead carcass, as he put it.”

  “Get down on your belly and put your hands away from your body,” she said to the guy.

  “No.”

  She laughed, since that most probably would’ve been her answer. “Are you fond of those cute kneecaps?” He dropped like a docile puppy that’d been spanked. “Sit,” she said to Natalie.

  “The guns aren’t necessary. We’re just trying to get out of here, not hurt you.”

  “Let’s start with who is we? Roth is lying around nights staring into the fluorescent lights crying over you, and you’re entertaining Rambo over there.” She moved behind Natalie and dropped her hands so the guns rested against her thighs. She wasn’t as accurate with fast aiming, but neither one of them would leave the room alive if it came to that.

  “Brian is my brother, not my lover,” Natalie said, and kept her head forward. “How do you know my name?”

  “Maria Ross, remember her?”

  “Maria’s dead,” Brian blurted out, and Natalie’s shoulders hitched. “You killed her?”

  “No, but I’m interested in who did.” It took iron control not to lift a gun over Natalie’s head when she heard the noise.

  “Mama.”

  The little boy wasn’t steady on his feet and dropped down to his butt after he called for Natalie. If Wiley had to guess, he was perhaps one.

  “What are you doing up, little man?” Natalie glanced back at her before she stood to get him. The baby immediately put his head on her shoulder. “I swear nothing will happen if we sit and talk, but if you can’t relax I need to put him down again.”

  “Come on, Uncle Brian, have a seat,” Wiley said. She didn’t holster her weapons, but kept them out of sight. “He’s Roth’s?”

  “I know it’s probably not my right to ask, but how do you know Maria?” Natalie asked as she gently patted the baby’s back. “And yes, he’s Roth’s son…our son.”

  “Maria lived with a friend of mine, and she left her in a bind by supposedly stealing from someone who’d like his money back.”

  “Do you know who?” Brian asked.

  “Who she stole from or who has the money?” The question was rhetorical, she realized. Natalie did, and she’d gotten it from Maria.

  “Who thinks the money is theirs?” Natalie asked.

  “Emray Gillis,” she said. These things were
so frustrating. Why couldn’t people ever make it easy by spitting out what needed to be said? This was why she was never interested in interrogations. Her job was dark, but it was easier than the cat-and-mouse game everyone tried to play when they’d been caught. “But Maria gave it to you.” With the baby faced away from her, she raised a gun. “So let’s review our options.”

  “The money belongs to my sister,” Brian said in a loud voice. Wiley could tell he was pissed, but he also wasn’t stupid. “Emray’s full of shit if he thinks he has rights to it.”

  “As long as my friend is being hunted, that’s not set in stone, so shut up.” She flicked the pistol’s safety off and he complied. “Two men were outside tonight watching your house. Why?” she asked Natalie.

  “Were?” Natalie asked.

  “They’re gone, and once this Gillis guy figures that out, there’ll be more, so here’s your chance to make a clean break from all this.”

  Natalie and Brian exchanged looks and Natalie nodded. “Maria had been in business with Roth for years, but nothing big and never any direct dealing. Last year she opened a place in Cabo San Lucas so there’d be a reason to ship from one place to the other.”

  “Ship what? The feds are hypersensitive to anything like that.”

  “Maria was importing tequila, and all her paperwork was in order. After a few months the shipments had become so routine, the port people didn’t even open any of the crates. Only it wasn’t tequila in the bottles, but liquefied coke. Maria would hold every shipment until Roth’s people could collect it here. Everything was working fine until Emray Gillis was forced on him.”

  “Have you met Gillis?” If Natalie kept talking, Wiley was sure she’d get all the answers that had eluded her so far.

  “Emray doesn’t exist, it’s only a street name.”

  “Have you met him?” she repeated, and the siblings looked at each other again. “I don’t think I have to explain the fastest way to help my friend is to turn over the money, so answer the question.”

 

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