A Mighty Fortress

by S. D. Thames

  “When?” He seemed taken aback by the question.

  “Anyone, anytime since he died?”

  He shook his head while he seemed to try hard to remember. “No, I haven’t heard from anyone.”

  “Well, how did you find out?”

  “Why you asking? You think I’m in trouble?”

  “I don’t think so, but I want to make sure. Besides, the cops already found the killer, and he’s already dead.”

  He cocked his head, happy with that news. “Really?”

  I nodded. “That’s the word. The name Don Alexi mean anything to you?”

  The expression on his face told me he knew him all right, and there was more to it than a casual acquaintance. “Don Alexi, you said?”

  “That’s right. How’d you know him?”

  “I didn’t, at least until this week.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He finally returned his eyes to mine. It seemed everything made sense to him now. “Don Alexi was the guy who told me about Scalzo.”

  “When, this week?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, he called me and told me Scalzo was out of the picture now. Said it was bound to happen, as many guys as he’d crossed, and that he spoke with Mr. Pilka and was ready, willing, and able—and those were his exact words, ‘ready, willing, and able’—to continue working with me the way Chad was.”

  “Huh. What do you think about that?”

  “First, I wondered how the hell he got my number. I was also surprised by how much he knew about Chad’s business.”

  It did seem that Alexi had a lot of access to Scalzo’s business. It made me think of Kara, and how Alexi had planted her to work for Wilcox.

  “So this Alexi guy, you sure he’s dead?”

  “Yep, the cops say he blew his brains out the same day they were going to make the arrest.”

  He seemed to breathe easier with this news. “How are you so sure about all this?”

  I grinned. “Let’s just say I have connections, and I’ve been cooperating with the right people at TPD.”

  He grinned back. Then he seemed to study me a bit longer, looked me up and down. “You are a big dude. You ex-military?”

  I nodded. “Seven years.”

  “Damn, I bet you can fuck some shit up.”

  “I guess you could say that.”

  “You know, I could really use someone like you. You ever think about relocating here?”

  I took a sip from my latte. “Funny you should say that. With little Jimmy coming down here, I have given it some thought.”

  “Well, let me give you my number. You think about it. You could make a killing down here, and have a good time doing it. You got any plans tonight?”

  “Yeah, I’m taking my little brother out when his orientation’s over.”

  “Well, what about after that? What’d you say we party then?”

  I gave him a nice grin, but it took everything I had not to slug him. “I think that’d be a great idea.”

  He handed me his business card, the one for BBBJ Productions. I read it aloud. He laughed. “That’s a play on my name and a blowjob.”

  “Got it.” I gave him my best chuckle. “So, you’re a full-blown producer now?”

  “I guess you could say that. I’ve made some good stuff right here in my condo. Chad did too, that’s for sure. He had a good idea for talent, and was good at filming.”

  “So, who were the guys in LA?”

  “Distribution. Distribution’s key.”

  “I see.”

  He glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot. “There’s a ton to be made in the movies like that, but what I was teaching Chad, there’s just as much money in escorting once those girls appear in some movies. A girl can triple her rate overnight just by having a few movies out. Not sure why, but guys love banging someone who’s done porn.”

  I was getting a better sense of how Chad had planned on using Angie. “I see.”

  “I take care of my girls, though. And I like to protect them whenever I can.”

  “You sound like a great guy.”

  “And that’s where you’d come in. Like I said, I could really use someone like you.”

  “Well, I’ll definitely think about.”

  “Yeah, just let me know tonight. What about your brother? He a badass like you?”

  I shook my head. “Nah, not really.”

  “No worries, we’ll still take care of him tonight. Just give me a call.”

  “I’ll do that.” I studied his card. “You know, I got a lot of free time today, while he’s doing his school stuff. I was thinking about trying to hook up for some fun this afternoon, but I don’t really know where to start down here. You got any recommendations?”

  “Do I have any recommendations? Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, my man?”

  I laughed along with him, still making a conscious effort not to inflict pain. “What’d you think of that blonde back there?” he asked. “She’s one of my best. A real sweet girl. Knock your socks off and a lot more than that.”

  “Yeah, she looked really nice. But honestly, I’m not into blondes. I’m more of a brunette guy.”

  “Latinas?”

  “I don’t really do the ethnic thing.” My stomach was twisting.

  Finally, he lit up with a better idea. I was just hoping it was the one I’d been fishing for. “You said you were at Hyde Park Cafe? You remember Scalzo’s girl, Angie?”

  “Sure. She was nice.”

  He leaned forward. “Well, after what happened to him, she came down here, told me she was worried and wanted to lay low for a while, until I can help get her relocated to LA. She mentioned she’s getting low on cash and needed some work. But she’s nervous as hell about it. I think she’d jump at the opportunity to see someone she knows.”

  “Well, I’m not sure I’d say I know her. I saw her. Always heard Chad talk about her. But she’s a bit out of my league and budget, if you know what I mean.”

  He patted me on the shoulder. “Nonsense. She hasn’t appeared in the movies yet, so she’s still got the cheaper rate.”

  “And that is?”

  He checked our surroundings again, and then held up five fingers.

  “For the hour?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “You mind me asking, she working for you, or someone else?”

  “No, she’s independent. This is just for screening and scheduling.” He opened his wallet. Handed me another business card. “Call them. She’s going by Eve now. Tell them I sent you. They’ll call me to confirm. Milo, right?”

  I nodded and looked at the card. It read VIP, and there was a number. “Thanks,” I said. I finished my drink, stood up, and put both the cards he’d given me in my shirt pocket.

  “Don’t forget to give me a call tonight,” he said. “We’ll consider it a job interview.”

  “I can’t wait,” I said. Then I turned and started walking by to my rental car. Along the way, I thought about the guy I’d just met, and I hoped that we’d indeed meet again one day, when all pretenses would be a thing of the past, and we could be honest with one another. He seemed like the kind of guy who’d greatly benefit from a little honest alone time with me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  The Reunion

  Her suite was at a swanky place on Brickell that I’d have struggled to pronounce. I’d arrived an hour early, mainly because I had nothing else to do. I tried a little surveillance, but there was too much going on around the building for it to be meaningful. So I sat in my car and waited.

  I was able to reach her floor with no complications other than having to fork out bills at every corner to tip the ever eager-to-help staff. One guy seemed to expect a dollar for letting me breathe the air.

  Before I knew it, I was on the sixteenth floor. It was six o’clock sharp. I found her room number and knocked.

  The door opened. I couldn’t see who was in there.

  Then she peeked around the
door. Her hair was dark brown now; no more hints of red. It still looked very natural except for some light highlights. She hadn’t lost much of her tan either. I entered.

  She wore a red cocktail dress that didn’t reach mid-thigh, and black pumps that hurt my feet just looking at them. “Hello,” she greeted me. It was the first time I could recall hearing her sober. Her voice was raspy and hoarse.

  “I’m Myles,” I said.

  “Good to meet you.” Inside, she kissed me on the cheek. “Please come in.”

  The door closed behind me. The suite was cool, fluffy everywhere. I resisted the urge to sit on the bed.

  I turned. She was taking her shoes off, about to slide off her dress. “Make yourself comfortable,” she said.

  I slipped off my loafers and sat on the love seat.

  “Have I seen you before?” she asked.

  “Do I look familiar?”

  She looked at me, like the thought had never crossed her mind. She shrugged and smiled. “Not particularly.”

  I considered the irony, and how clueless she was to it.

  She retreated to the far corner to start undressing. As she did, I saw her cell phone on the dresser. I quickly picked it up and placed it in my pocket. Meanwhile, she slid her dress down, stepped through it, and hung it on a hanger in the vanity closet. She wore a black lace negligee. She turned back around. “So, how do you know Brian?” she said. Just then, she seemed to notice that I was still dressed. “Don’t you want to get comfortable?”

  “I like to take it slow,” I said.

  “Shy, are we?” She was putting on a good show, and she’d used that line during our first meeting, too. But today her energy and enthusiasm was a far cry from the time we’d met in Scalzo’s apartment. I figured the week’s stress had taken a big toll on her as well.

  “A little,” I said.

  She got on her knees and crawled in my direction. “Let me fix that,” she said en route to me. Once she reached the sofa, she pulled herself up by my knees and leaned into my lap. She started reaching for my crotch, but I grabbed her hand and held it tight.

  “You have a strong grip,” she said, as she repositioned herself next to me and slowly crossed her legs. “You just want to talk?”

  “Talking would be nice.”

  “Let’s talk,” she said, rubbing her left leg along the thigh.

  “You miss Tampa?” I asked.

  “Can’t say that I do.” She arched her head back and smiled as though she was trying really hard to be amused and not nervous. “So, have I seen you before?”

  I smiled back, playful, maybe a little intimidating. “You don’t remember me?”

  She started nodding. “You do look familiar.”

  I’d participated in enough games for one week. “So, what do you want to talk about, Evangeline?”

  Her fake smile turned to alarm. “What?” she said without thinking. When I didn’t answer, she demanded, “Who are you?” She’d started trembling.

  “You don’t recognize me?” I asked. “It’s only been a week.”

  Based on the terror on her face, she might have seen the Grim Reaper.

  “Try picturing me with a long, full beard and curly hair over the ears.”

  “You!” She definitely knew me now. “You can’t be serious. You?”

  I nodded. “Sorry.”

  “Y-you,” she was stumbling over her words now, too. Her eyes doubled as she started realizing the possibilities, which in turn made me wonder what was really worrying her. Like who I was working for now, and what she had to hide.

  “You!” she screamed.

  “I believe you remember me now. Let’s talk.”

  “You were there the night he, Chad, the night…”

  “He died?”

  She shook her head and scrambled for what to say. “Did you? You were…”

  Her arms were moving in frenetic circles, and she was coming closer to hitting me. So I grabbed them, just to make sure she didn’t get any wild ideas.

  “Funny you should question me like that, Angie—or is it Evie? ’Cause I know for a fact Chad’s family has some questions for you.”

  “Who sent you here?” she cried.

  “You’re in danger, Angie. And I’m here to get you out.”

  She turned pale and had a hard time fighting the trembling. “You can get the hell out of here.”

  “Well, I paid for the time, so why don’t we at least talk for an hour?”

  “Screw your time. I’ll pay you back myself. Does Brian know about this? What the hell?” She stood and rushed toward the nightstand.

  “Looking for your phone?” I asked.

  She panicked when it wasn’t there. “Where the hell is it?” She was turning over the bedspread and pillows. I met her, pulled her up, and turned her around.

  “You have to listen to me. You’re in danger,” I said.

  She landed a nice right hook on me, a solid shot on the jaw. I thought back to her dad swinging the axe. The apple hadn’t landed far from that tree. I shook it off and asked her if she’d heard me.

  “Yeah, I heard you. You say I’m in danger. Well, I’m out of here. This is my last day in Florida.”

  “They’ll find you, Angie. Wherever you go. You think you’re going to disappear into a porn career? You’ll be the easiest person in the world to find.”

  “Who will find me? Who the hell is looking for me?”

  “The police, for starters.”

  “Why? And how the hell do you know that?”

  “You were the last person to see Chad Scalzo alive.”

  She shook her head. “I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Well, would if make you feel any better if I said the cops knew that, but still wanted to talk to you? As does Scalzo’s family.”

  “His family? Who the hell do you work for?”

  “I’m not sure anymore.”

  “How do you know the police are looking for me?”

  “Because I’ve talked to them every day since Chad died. A lot of people are looking for you.”

  She slugged me again, barely making contact this time.

  “Please don’t do that again,” I said. “I’m trying to help you.”

  “Trying to get me killed or arrested!”

  “This is serious, Angie. We can’t trust the police. We can’t trust anyone.”

  “Not my problem.”

  “I’m sorry to say it, but it is. More than you realize.”

  “Why?” she cried.

  “Because I think whoever killed Chad wants you dead, too.”

  Her eyes bulged, as she seemed to get an idea about how to escape. She lunged onto the bed, picked up the receiver to the hotel phone, and hit a button. “This is room 1630. Please send security up right away. I have an intruder in my room. Yes!” She hung up and screamed: “Get out!”

  I sighed and shook my head. “You should not have done that.”

  “I said get out!”

  “Listen to me, Angie. This is more serious than you realize. They will find you.”

  She glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “They’ll be here any minute, and they’ll throw your sorry ass in jail. I want you to get the hell out of here and never tell anyone you saw me here.”

  “I’m the only person who can help you now. Don’t forget that. Whatever happens.”

  She closed her eyes, fighting back tears and rage.

  “Angie, Don Alexi is dead. Kara is in a coma, and the lawyer who hired me last weekend is probably dead. Whoever wanted them dead will be after you, too.”

  There was a loud knock on the door. It seemed too quick to be security. “Don’t open that!” I yelled.

  But she was already unlocking the door. As soon as she turned the lock, the door swung into her and knocked her to the ground.

  Kiki led the charge into the suite, pulling a gun from inside his black leather jacket. He grabbed Angie by the hair, pulled her into the bedroom, and threw her against the bed. She b
ounced off and hit the floor with a whimper and a scream. Jimmy was close behind Kiki, brandishing his weapon of choice. He made a beeline for me and used his gun to cold-cock me right on the bandaged jaw. It sent a sharp pain into my ear canal. As I tried shaking off the sting, a leather pump flew by my face and hit Jimmy right in the mouth. He cursed and pointed his gun at Angie, who was trembling by the bed now.

  “Don’t,” Kiki said. “He wants her alive.”

  Angie looked at me. “You piece of shit. You led them here.”

  I wondered whether I’d been that careless, to let them trail me here.

  “Don’t worry, Angie,” Kiki said. “You weren’t that hard to find. Whores like you never are.”

  “What do you want?” she cried.

  He nodded with his little gun. “You know, I been trying to call you since Monday morning. Not very smart of you to run away like that, under the circumstances. Now you need to come with us.”

  There was another knock on the door. “This is Security,” a voice shouted from the hallway.

  Jimmy turned quickly, while Kiki kept his gun pointed at me. “Don’t get any crazy ideas,” Kiki grunted. Then he pointed it at her: “Go tell them you’re okay.”

  She stood away from the bed. Jimmy used his gun to lead her in the direction of the hallway to the door. Kiki nodded for Jimmy to keep an eye on me. Kiki resumed Angie duties, with his gun pointed right at her head.

  Jimmy greeted me with another hit to the face, and followed it through with a push to the floor. I went down easy and positioned my fall so I could get a good look down the hallway. Kiki was whispering in Angie’s ear. Then he stepped into the bathroom by the front door. His gun was the last thing to disappear.

  She opened the door a few inches. “Everything’s okay,” she said, but her voice rang with fear.

  “Please step back, ma’am.”

  Someone pushed the door open. Angie was walking backwards, quickly.

  A security guard strutted down the hallway, bulky, probably former police or military. Not well trained, obviously. Before he knew it, Kiki was behind him, and had removed the guard’s gun from his holster. Kiki had his own gun digging into the guard’s neck. “Walk, asshole.”

  Kiki led our visitor into the bedroom, where Jimmy was standing over me. There, Kiki opened the door to the armoire.