by Jon Mills
“Shit!” he said as some of the powder spilled. “Get up, you useless whores, and help me get this together.”
When they didn’t respond, he turned his head and slowly shuffled closer. He put his ear near Molly’s mouth. His eyes darted to Sandra, her chest wasn’t rising.
“No. No. No,” he said rapidly as he tried to wake them. He slapped Molly’s cheek a few more times, reached over and grabbed a half full bottle of beer and poured it over their faces. This wasn’t happening.
Even though Jimmie had hired them, they were still employees of Ray. He’d just convinced Ray to let him oversee all the girls that were making the runs into Miami. If they turned up dead, more questions would be asked. They were already getting a lot of heat from local police about the recent string of murders. Those had been intentional, but these… his mind was spinning furiously. Fearful of what might have happened to the rest of the stash, Jimmie darted out of the room, and rushed into the office area. Sure enough the safe in the wall was open, and the whole damn lot was gone.
What the hell? “Where’s it gone? Where’s it gone!”
He’d seen other girls in there over the past week, friends of Molly. Had they stolen it?
He backed up slowly, his brain unable to cope with the new reality. His head shook ever so slightly before he turned and sprinted back into the living room. He grabbed a hold of one of the girls and shook her violently.
“Molly! Wake up. Where’s the rest?”
He checked their pulses again. Nothing. He was about to lose his shit, and start smashing the place up when he heard a voice behind him.
“I knew it.”
Jimmie turned to find his brother Willie. His eyes widened and he stumbled as he tried to make his way to the door.
“Ray ain’t going to like this.”
“Willie. Hold on a minute.”
Willie turned to leave. Again Jimmie lost his footing as he hurried to catch up with his brother. This was unraveling before his eyes. He’d kept everyone out of the loop. It was the only way he could be sure no one would squeal. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his brothers but they just weren’t the type to push the envelope. All three of them were satisfied with what Ray was giving them. They led comfortable lives, drove around in brand-new trucks and generally didn’t want for anything but that wasn’t Jimmie. He could blow through money like wildfire.
Willie was already out the door by the time Jimmie caught up with him. He grabbed a hold of an arm.
“You’ve stepped over the line this time, Jimmie. Does Noah or Chris know about this?”
“No, listen up.”
“No you listen,” Willie said pushing him back against the clapboard siding. “I’m done covering for your ass. It isn’t just your life that you are jeopardizing. It’s ours. What were you thinking?” He smacked Jimmie up the side of the head. “If Ray gets drift of this, you know what he’s going to do.”
“I fucked up, I’m sorry. I didn’t know those bitches were going to snort my shit and OD.”
Willie held him tight against the side of the home. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t about what they did; it’s about what you did. Going behind Ray’s back. Not telling us.”
“I figured you wouldn’t approve. I mean c’mon, Willie, you already have your eyes fixed on getting out. This is my way out.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You call screwing Ray over, your way out?”
“You said yourself that our cut is not worth the risk. You were right, Willie. I just…” he trailed off as Willie released his grip and backed up. “I just wanted to get a little extra.”
There was silence between the two of them. Jimmie ran his hand over his face.
“It’s all gone, Willie. The entire stash inside, except for a few bricks.”
“Oh fuck,” Willie said muttering to himself. “How many times have I told you that enough is enough. We are already walking the razor’s edge. But this… this is pure madness, Jimmie.”
“I know. I know.”
Jimmie threw his hand up in the air. Hindsight was a bitch and it was coming back to bite him in the ass for the umpteenth time.
“What can I do? It’s done.”
Willie looked at him. “That drive-by tonight was about you, wasn’t it?” He shook his head and scoffed. “You made out that it was all about Terry but it had nothing to do with him, did it? They were after you?”
“Terry was going to come on board. I was meeting him to discuss business. I needed to have someone who could conduct meetings with clients.”
“Because you had stepped on a few too many toes, right?”
Jimmie cast his gaze down.
“Where have you been dealing?”
Jimmie tried to search for words but he was still reeling from the weight of what had happened.
“Where, Jimmie?”
Reluctantly he replied. “Naples.”
“You idiot.” Willie squeezed the bridge of his nose. Jimmie got all emotional. Tears started to well up in his eyes.
“Look, Willie, he’ll kill me if he finds out about this and… well…”
“He’ll kill us too. Yeah, Jimmie, you didn’t think this one through. FUCK!”
Jimmie wiped away the crocodile tears and did what he was best at — convincing his brother to help him. “Listen, we dump the bodies in the Everglades. The gators will take care of them. No one has to know. They were whores. No one bats an eye if they go missing.”
Willie scrutinized him.
“And the dope?”
“Most of it’s missing. I don’t know if they gave it out, or someone robbed the place. I don’t know.”
“Did anyone follow you back here?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so?” Willie paced up and down while Jimmie pulled out his cigarettes. This wasn’t happening. Seconds later he lit one and nicotine flooded his system. Under the cover of the wraparound porch, he glanced out across the water. This was a bad idea, he thought. It all seemed so doable at the time. A little skimmed here, a little skimmed there. No one would notice. He could make a little extra on the side. Then he got greedy. He took more than was required once he saw how easy it was to create fake heroin and coke. He knew he shouldn’t have hired two junkies to watch over it but he couldn’t pull himself away from his regular work. It would have raised too many questions with Ray.
“So you take the loss.”
“A loss? That gear was all spoken for, paid upfront.”
“Then give the money back. Say something went wrong in shipping.”
Jimmie nodded and scoffed. “I would, if I had the money.”
Willie clued in. “Oh my god, your stupidity astounds me. So how much are you short by? A few thousand?”
He shrugged. “More than that. Like I said, I was looking for a way out. This was meant to be a big delivery. I’ve been squirreling that shit away for months for one client in Naples.”
“How much, Jimmie?”
Jimmie hesitated. “2.3 million.”
Willie staggered back and placed both hands on his forehead.
“You took that much dope from Ray?”
“I knew eventually I would attract some of the big buyers if I started on the ground. It was small at first. You know, street stuff, then I managed to hook up with a guy who knew a guy and well… I told them it was only a matter of time before I could get that.”
“Hold on a minute. There is no way they would have fronted 2.3 million without seeing the dope.”
“They did see it. Half of it. I was getting the other half ready for them.”
Willie could barely contain himself. He’d seen that look in his brother’s eyes many a time. Though Jimmie was a year older, Willie had always been the smartest. Jimmie was the first to get involved with Ray, then he managed to wrangle in Chris and Noah by flashing around handfuls of hundred-dollar bills. After falling short of their quota, luring them in was as easy as dangling a toy in front of a baby, but Will
ie, he was a whole different kettle of fish. He hadn’t gone into the family business like the others. He’d worked in construction but after a string of bad employers, and patchy work he eventually agreed.
“How long did it take you to skim that off the top?”
“Most of the year.”
“Well then, you are fucked.”
He turned to leave.
“Am I? Oh no, brother, we are fucked!”
Willie rushed and shoved him hard against the home. He gasped for air as Willie put a hand around his throat. “I swear. If you weren’t my brother I would end you right now.”
When he released his iron grip, Jimmie clutched at his own throat, rubbing it gently.
“Look, I’ve got a plan.”
Willie spun around and Jimmie thought he was going to lay into him again.
“A plan? The very notion of you coming up with a plan is beyond amusing, it’s outright insane.”
“No, Willie, listen to me. How may runs have we done for Ray?”
When Willie didn’t reply he continued.
“More than we can count, right? And how many times has he dealt with the transaction in Miami? Zero. And how many times have things failed? Zero.”
“Just get to the point.”
“We tell him a buyer in Miami wants 20 kilos of cocaine, he’ll make the deal happen with the Colombians and all we have to do is say we got screwed over when the delivery is made. The drugs disappear, I get to give my guy what he wants and we all walk away a few million dollars in cash.”
Willie said nothing.
“So?”
“You are out of your fucking mind.” He leaned in and shook his finger in his face. “You skim off the top, then you want us to get in bed with you and steal 20 kilos from Ray? What about the Colombians?”
“The Colombians get paid. They always do. Upfront. They aren’t going worry about what happens to the stash and Ray isn’t going to know. He’s too busy spending money, fucking whores and cutting checks to give a shit about what is going on under his own nose.”
“There’s a vetting process.”
“Of course there is. We’ll do a few smaller deals to establish trust and then go straight for the jugular.”
“I should go straight for yours. You asshole.”
Jimmie grinned, knowing he’d hooked him. He leaned back against the house. “Anyway, how did you find out about this place?”
“I followed you.”
“And what did you want?”
“Why did you ask that guy to swing around tomorrow?”
“Well with Terry dead, isn’t it obvious?”
Willie’s eyebrow shot up. “You were going to get him to fill in for Terry?”
“Just to do a dead drop.” He said it in his usual innocent manner. He then paused and got this glint in his eye. “And think about it. If it goes south on us, we won’ t be there to deal with it.”
Willie shook his head slowly. “I dunno.”
“Come on. You know it makes sense.”
“Nothing makes sense with you.”
“Look, we don’t have a choice. We’re all in this together.”
“Yeah, that’s what I don’t like.”
Chapter Thirteen
“What a shithole this is.” Jack’s eyelids fluttered. He was still in between the point of sleep and being awake. For a moment he thought it was part of his dream until he heard a chair screech and someone rooting through a paper bag. He snapped awake as light between the drapes flooded his senses.
“Isabel,” he muttered. He heard her grumble beside him. That’s when he flew out of the bed and reached for his Glock 22. If it wasn’t her, who was in the house?
He yanked on the door and shot out twisting around the corner into the corridor and padding down to the kitchen. All he had on was his boxers. The closer he got the more he realized that it was a false alarm. He lowered his weapon and strolled into the kitchen. Sure enough, there they were, the odd couple themselves — Agents Carson and Moore.
“Well if it isn’t Scully and Mulder,” he said before walking over to the fridge and pulling out a carton of milk. Jack guzzled some of it down before wiping his mouth and turning the coffee maker on.
“Funny. Actually we were just discussing relationships on the job. Tell us, what’s it like?”
“What?” he said pulling out a cup from the cupboard and placing the Glock on the counter.
“You know, screwing the pooch, giving it to the man.”
He twisted and then clued in that they were referring to Isabel. He was about to answer that when she came around the corner with her arms folded in front of her.
“You guys do understand the meaning of undercover, right?” she asked.
Carson picked up a brown bag and gestured to a tray. “We brought a peace offering. Coffee and donuts. I mean after yesterday, we figured if we’re going to be working together that we should at least be on the same page.”
“Same page doesn’t mean waltzing in here at all hours. What if someone sees you?”
Moore chuckled and then pursed his lips when Isabel gave him the evil eye.
“No one is going to see us. No one is awake and they can’t see shit down this end of the park.”
That was partially true. Both of their properties were in the corner lot but it didn’t mean that someone wouldn’t wonder why they were here.
“Look, if it makes you feel better, if anyone asks we’ll say we came over to borrow some sugar.”
“And if anyone asks, we’ll just say you two are lovers,” Jack said with a grin. He had no beef with gay folk, in fact he had several gay friends in New York but he figured it would rile up two straight-laced guys.
Both of them looked at each other as it sunk in. If anyone asked, they were going to have to say that they were a couple as there sure as hell was no resemblance. One was a pasty white, and the other an African American.
Isabel gestured with her head for them to get out but they must have taken it as some nervous tic as they were still sitting there looking as goofy as fuck.
“You know, I often wondered why it took so long for them to catch me, but after meeting you two, it’s all falling into place,” Jack said.
Isabel grinned after Moore flipped Jack the bird.
“Don’t worry, Jack, this is their first real stakeout, isn’t it, boys?” Isabel walked into the kitchen wearing nothing more than one of his long shirts from the previous night. Their eyes dropped to her long bare legs and Carson got this mesmerized look on his face. Jack couldn’t blame him; she had a way of turning heads.
A wave of memories hit him.
After they’d returned home from Atomic Charley’s, they were soaked to the bone. They took a shower, unpacked a few things, made love to release tension and then passed out. As the events of the evening came back to him, he figured it was going to be another stressful day. Neither one of them knew shit about fishing, all Jack knew amounted to getting a rod from Walmart and sticking a live worm on the end and praying he caught something. Well, that was slightly exaggerated. He had figured out a thing or two about traps and had managed to snag himself a couple of beauties while living on the island but compared to a real fisherman, he didn’t know diddly squat.
He’d had that conversation with Thorpe before they left. His reply was, “Figure it out.”
The fact was they didn’t have time to sit there and learn, it was all just a cover. Chances were they wouldn’t even need to step foot in a boat if they managed to connect with the right people. The previous night had certainly opened up one door, whether it was the right one was still to be seen.
“So what’s the plan today?” Carson asked, biting into a donut. Sticky jam sprayed up the side of his cheek and he wiped it off and licked it. He sat in a chair and put his legs up on the table for a second before Isabel swiped them off.
“Whatever happens, you two chumps are going to be the last to know,” she said before tossing some bread into a toaster. Jac
k poured out two cups of dark roast coffee and handed one off to her.
“Come on now, Isabel, you know what the boss said.”
“Screw the boss. And besides, you assholes are liable to blow our cover, if you haven’t already.”
“We didn’t last night.”
“That’s because we lost you.” She grinned.
They had tried to follow as they headed out to the bar but Jack managed to lose them after a convoy of golf carts cut in front of them. It was like an old man’s convention. Marina Park was full of them. They were zippy little machines and perfect for getting around the island.
“Yeah, well too bad, you know how this goes,” Moore said getting up and taking his coffee and donut to the door.
“Just keep your distance,” Isabel shot back.
Later that morning after discussing whether or not Isabel was going to go with him, it was decided she would hang back. As far as they were concerned this wasn’t going to be a slam-dunk in the first week, which meant they were going to have to make their time in Chokoloskee look authentic. Isabel would see what she could dig up on the families of the victims and the prostitution trade.
After driving to the south part of the island, Jack was curious about what Jimmie Mitchell had in mind. Surely he couldn’t be so naïve as to think that a newcomer to the island would be interested in any illegal activity? In all his years working for Gafino, Jack had never once seen anyone new welcomed into the fold. It was unheard of. Criminals didn’t put out help-wanted ads, or set up signs saying: Sign up to become a drug dealer. It was all based on word of mouth, being introduced to a party through a friend of a friend. Someone who could vouch for you.
Then again, those boys didn’t exactly strike him as the smart type. Who the hell waved around handguns only to let people walk? Only amateurs, or those confident no one would say anything. Jack sure as hell didn’t pull people aside and send them on their way after they had given him some sob story. There were only two reasons he came knocking. Either they owed money, or their time was up. At least that’s the way it used to be.
