Dangerous Friends (A Carlos McCrary novel Book 4)

by Dallas Gorham

  If Michelle was trying to shock me, it wasn’t working. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure. How did you know his name?”

  “I’m a private investigator, Michelle; I know lots of things. Your parents are worried about you. Would you please call your dad or your mom? Use my phone if you like.”

  Ponder struggled to his feet and stepped between Michelle and me. I let him.

  His eyes blazed. He stuck his arm out to block Michelle. “She’ll do no such thing, asshole. You can’t tell her what to do.”

  “But you can? That’s not fair.”

  “You can’t force Michelle to go with you,” Ponder said.

  Michelle frowned and took a half step back toward the door. She looked ill at ease. She grasped her braid in her left hand and twirled it, let it go, twirled it again.

  I sidestepped so I could see her without looking through Ponder. “Michelle, please call your parents.” I held the phone out again.

  She crossed her arms, not looking at me. “Daddy’ll insist that I come home. He doesn’t understand me.” She struck a pose. “He doesn’t understand what motivates me now that I’m grown up and see beyond the mentality of the middle class.”

  Ponder stepped between us again. “Michelle has a higher purpose than short-sighted, middle-class reactionaries like her parents could ever understand. She cares about the future of the entire planet.” He spoke like he was on a picket line at an oil refinery. “She’s a true friend of Mother Earth.”

  I grabbed Ponder’s beard with my left hand and pulled his head down, making him bend over. “I’m talking to Michelle, not to you, Whiskers. If you step between us again, I will throw you to the other end of the hall. If you interfere after that, I will toss you down the stairs.” I jerked down on his beard and forced him to his knees. “Now sit down like a good little boy.”

  I turned to Michelle. “Can we go downstairs and talk where we won’t be interrupted?” I glanced at her boyfriend.

  She turned to him. “Go back inside, James. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  James glowered at me, hatred in his eyes. He began to struggle to his feet, collapsed onto his back, and groaned.

  Michelle led the way downstairs into the parlor. She turned on the light and walked to the center of the room. “Now what?”

  After seeing the filthy, dilapidated furniture, I was glad she hadn’t invited me to sit down. “You said your father doesn’t understand what motivates you. What doesn’t he understand?”

  She looked at the ceiling as if she could see Ponder sprawled on the floor upstairs. “What James said. I am motivated by caring for the future of the entire planet.” She said it like she was quoting scripture. “We—all of us—we’re tomorrow’s heroes. I see the bigger picture now. My parents are entrapped by the bourgeois world-view of the middle class.”

  Cute; she talked like a robot. I let it pass. “You’re here of your own free will?”

  She looked a little uncertain, but nodded. She twirled her braid again.

  “Will you at least call your parents?” I tried to hand her my phone.

  She crossed her arms again and looked away. “Daddy will lecture me with middle-class dogma. He talks at me, not to me. I’m involved with an important project this week—important to the whole planet. Tell Mom and Dad I’ll be home by the weekend. They can lecture me then.”

  “That’s five whole days, Michelle. You know they’ll worry.” I handed her my business card, one without the logo of a knight on a white horse. Maybe my card needed a logo of Don Quixote tilting at a windmill. I felt about as effective. “If you need someone to talk to… someone who won’t lecture you…”

  She accepted the card and stuck it in her pants pocket.

  I turned toward the door. “I hope your boyfriend’s all right. I told him I was here to make sure you were okay, and he charged me like a bull—twice. I didn’t hit him hard.”

  “Don’t worry about him. James has more balls than he has brains.”

  “Call me if you need anything. Day or night, okay? I don’t do lectures.”

  She put a hand on my arm. “I’m all right, Chuck. I really am. I know what I’m doing.”

  Yeah, right.

  Chapter 7

  Ponder flinched when Michelle slammed the bedroom door behind her. “James, you idiot, were you born stupid or did someone drop you on your head?”

  “What—what do you mean? That asshole attacked me. I had to defend myself.” He moaned as he rolled onto his side on the bed and clutched his stomach with both hands. He glanced up. Is she buying it? Nope.

  Michelle scoffed. “Don’t make me laugh. Compared to you, Chuck McCrary’s a Boy Scout. He took it easy on you, or you’d be on your way to the hospital.” She took two steps toward Ponder and he recoiled on the bed. “Sometimes, you act like… like…” She stomped a foot and clenched her fists. “I simply don’t understand you, James. When the adrenaline takes over, you’re a different man—one I don’t even know. McCrary was Special Forces. You know, Green Berets. He could kill you with his bare hands.” She turned away. “Forget it.”

  She picked up her cellphone. “Katherine or Steven should have called by now. Do you think they’re okay?”

  Ponder sat up on the bed. “They may be a little later than we’d planned. They have extra stuff to do before tonight.” He wouldn’t meet her gaze.

  “Extra stuff like what? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  Ponder’s eyes narrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line. “They’ve planned a little extra surprise for the Earth killers.”

  Michelle’s eyes widened. “Sounds like fun. What kind of extra surprise?”

  “A big one. You’ll see.” He glanced at his phone. “Since we have time to kill…” He slid his hand up the inside of her thigh. “You have another condom in your purse?”

  Ponder’s phone vibrated and Michelle rolled off. She snatched the phone from the nightstand before it rang. “Hello, Katherine.” She put the phone on speaker.

  “You sound out of breath.”

  Michelle winked at Ponder. “James and I were… killing time while we waited for your call.”

  “Ha, I’ll bet you were. Is sex all you two ever think about?” She laughed. “You’re making me jealous. I’m in a dry spell.”

  “I could loan you James when I’m through with him.”

  “His beard is too scratchy.”

  “That’s not why you called.”

  “Are you and James ready for action? Or should I say, more action?”

  Michelle smirked at Ponder. “We were born ready.”

  “James, are you there?”

  “Yeah, Katherine. Go ahead.”

  “I want you both to come in separate cars. Michelle, you park on Seventh Street at least a block east of the park. James, you park on Fourth Avenue a block north of the park.”

  “Why not park in the parking lot?” Michelle asked. “At night there should be plenty of spaces.”

  Katherine paused so long that Michelle wondered if the call had dropped. “Katherine? Are you there?”

  “Yes. Just park where I said.”

  “Okay, but why?”

  “That will become clear later. Michelle, now that you’re in the Four Musketeers you must be a team member. Just do it.”

  Ponder put a hand on Michelle’s arm. “We will, Katherine. Separate cars, a block away from the park. We’ll be there in an hour—separately.”

  “Michelle, did you pack a hoodie and a baseball hat like I told you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Both of you put on your hoodies and baseball hats before you open the car door.”

  “Okay.”

  “One more thing,” Katherine added.

  “We’re listening.”

  “Remove your cellphone batteries from your phones before you get out of the car.”

  Michelle’s stomach clinched like a fist as she disconnected the call. “Why does she want us to wear hoodies and ha
ts?”

  “Michelle, you’re smarter than that. It’s for the security cameras in McKinley Park.”

  “But why remove our cellphone batteries?”

  Chapter 8

  “Accelerometer’s at minus three. Delray Beach four miles ahead.” Harold Greenleaf had been an engineer with the East Carolina & Florida Railroad for twenty-eight years.

  Dan Smith, the conductor, noted the reading in the train log. He checked the speedometer. “We should hit twenty at the city limits.” He glanced at his watch. “I make it 10:31 p.m.”

  Harold looked at his cellphone, then the clock on the instrument panel. “I concur.”

  Harold and Dan rode in the lead General Electric ES44C4 locomotive which controlled the mile-long train. Two additional ES44C4’s pulled from the front followed by one hundred eight freight cars carrying coal for Port City Power’s Everglades generating plant. Two more locomotives pushed the 15,444 tons of coal from the rear. A single one-hundred-eighty pound man controlled the twenty-two thousand horsepower of all five locomotives.

  The wheels rumbled and clicked their hypnotic rhythm. Harold yawned and swiveled the upholstered driver’s chair. “I’m gonna hit the head and fix some more coffee. You want a cup?”

  Dan grabbed the dead-man switch and replaced Harold at the controls. “Yeah, thanks.”

  The lights of Delray Beach paraded sedately by. The clanging bells of the grade crossing rose and fell in volume as the locomotive passed the flashing red lights of the crossing arms.

  Dan moved the throttle one notch as the speedometer hit twenty miles per hour. The five locomotives at either end of the 108-car string automatically adjusted all thirty driving axles.

  The coal cars between the leading locomotives and the trailing ones paid no attention to the electrical commands that travelled through their innards to the back of the train. They were content to carry the coal that would fuel the Everglades power plant for a little over thirty hours.

  By 12:07 a.m. the coal train had crossed the New River Bridge in Fort Lauderdale. At 12:52 a.m. Dan announced, “Twelve minutes to the Everglades switch. I’ll take a leak before we make the turn.”

  Harold rolled his shoulders to relieve the tension in his neck as he sat at the instruments. It had been a long day and he was tired. I’m getting too old for this. Two more years and I’ll take my retirement. Maybe the missus and I will live on a boat in The Keys. We can get an old clunker trawler with enough cabins for two or three grandkids to visit at a time. Then we can go see them up north at Christmas and enjoy the snow. The green lights of the Seeti River Bridge grew larger on either side of the double-tracked rail line.

  A flash of billowing orange smashed the windshield and enveloped the green lights. Thunder shook the three-hundred-ton locomotive like a baby’s rattle. A giant bird’s nest of steel girders hurtled spinning into the air on either side.

  “Holy Mother of God!” Harold slapped the Head of Train Device sending wireless signals to all five locomotives and 108 coal cars to apply their brakes. Hitting the throttle with his other hand, Harold slammed all sixty drive wheels into reverse as the locomotive tumbled off the shredded end of the rails and nose dived into the inky water of the Seetiweekifenokee River.

  The steep downward tilt of the engine threw Harold forward. Black water rushed through the shattered windshield. Harold pounded on the toilet compartment door beneath him. “Dan! Dan! You’ve got to get out of there.” Water flooded through the side windows, sweeping the engineer away from the toilet door. The steel locomotive slammed into the river bottom, smashing Harold’s head into the metal wall knocking him unconscious as the cool water rose to fill the cabin.

  Inside the toilet compartment, Dan was thrown to one side as the lights went out. He struggled to his feet in the dark and felt for the door above his head. The cabin lights flicked to red as the emergency power snapped on. Dan crouched where the front wall met the metal floor, now tilting at a steep angle. He turned the doorknob and lunged with his shoulders against the door. The knob turned but the door didn’t budge. He didn’t know that thirty feet of water pressed on it with twenty-eight tons of weight.

  Water seeped through the cracks at the edges of the metal door and pooled around his feet. As the locomotive settled on its side, water sloshed up the wall and began a relentless rise toward Dan’s head.

  Chapter 9

  When my phone rang at four-thirty in the morning, my chest tightened. The Caller ID said Michelle Babcock. Nothing good happens after midnight.

  I answered. “Hello, Michelle.”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Okay. I’m listening.”

  “Not over the phone.” She sounded breathless. “People can listen on the phone. We need to talk in person. I didn’t know who else to call.”

  “Okay. Are you at Ponder’s house? I can come get you.”

  “I’m not there anymore.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Not over the phone; someone could be listening.” Her voice broke. “Something terrible happened. I’m scared, and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Not over the phone. We have to meet.”

  “I don’t read minds, Michelle. Tell you what—don’t say the name of the place, but do you remember our conversation during the Super Bowl halftime about pie? We compared places to find good pie.”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Do you remember my favorite place?”

  “No.”

  “It’s open twenty-four hours a day. Don’t say the name. Just tell me if you remember.”

  She paused. “Yeah, yeah, I think so. Yeah, I remember.”

  “Do you have a way to look up the address? Say yes or no.”

  “Yes.”

  “Just answer yes or no: Do you have transportation?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll meet you there in an hour.”

  “It’ll take me longer. Two hours.”

  “Two hours. I’ll be there.”

  “Chuck, one more thing.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t tell Mom and Dad you heard from me. I don’t want them involved, especially Daddy. I can’t be seen, so I won’t go inside the place. I’ll meet you in the parking lot. Don’t let anyone follow you. Can I trust you? This must be an absolute secret. You okay with that?”

  “No, I’m not okay with that, Michelle, but I’ll do as you say. This will be our secret.”

  I pulled into the Day and Night Diner parking lot in an hour. Plenty of time to eat breakfast, then wait in the van for Michelle. The diner had a handful of customers at that hour. I sat at the counter and waved at my regular server, Veraleesa Kotanay.

  Veraleesa was on the night shift until seven. “Hey, Chuck. Is this a pie run, or you want breakfast?” She set a steaming mug of coffee on the counter for me. Veraleesa had worked at the diner since God’s dog was a puppy. We had met when I worked the neighborhood on a previous case. The Day and Night had the world’s best pie.

  “Good morning, Veraleesa. Too early for pie. I’ll have breakfast.”

  “The usual?” She was already writing it up. After she turned the order in, she stopped across the counter from me. “You’re kinda early. Don’t usually see you until after sunrise.”

  “Early to bed, early to rise. That’s me.” We chit-chatted until my order was ready, then she went to serve other customers.

  I finished breakfast and waited in the van. Michelle was late. If she had misremembered the diner’s name, she would call me again. Her car pulled to the curb a half block up the street in a dark place between streetlights.

  She locked her Civic and walked to my van. She glanced in the passenger window.

  I motioned her in. “Okay, Michelle, what happened?”

  She grabbed her braid with one hand and twirled it around her fingers. “I’m sort of involved in an accidental death.”

  “Start at the beginning. Tell me everything.”
r />   “You know that railroad bridge next to I-95 across the Seeti River?”

  “The automatic one? The one with no attendant?”

  “Yeah, that one.”

  “What about it?”

  “He blew it up. Boom!” She made an expansive gesture with her hands then grabbed her braid again. “There was this big explosion, and the train fell in the river.” Her voice broke. “The conductor, or engineer, or whatever you call him—the radio station said he’s dead. I think he drowned.” She put both hands to her face and burst into tears.

  I patted her shoulder. I handed her a tissue and waited for her to calm down. “Why do you think you’re involved?”

  “We were going to snag a protest banner across the locomotive when it came past. We wanted to plaster the train with our message. The banner read No more coal-fired plants.” She swept her hand through the air as if she were spreading the banner. “That train hauls coal to the Port City Power generating plant. They sneak it in during the middle of the night when no one can see it.”

  A simpler explanation might be that they brought the trains in at night to avoid disrupting traffic several times a week, but I don’t see conspiracies everywhere. Who’s to say she wasn’t right?

  “That train helps the power company poison our air. We were trying to stop it. We had to stop it.” Her eyes flashed. Maybe it was self-righteous indignation. “People like them are killing the planet.”

  Oh geez. This was not a great time to debate energy policy. “So how are you involved?”

  “We… we got to the railroad bridge in a boat.” She sniffed.

  I figured Ponder was one of the “we,” but I didn’t interrupt her.

  “We tied the boat under the bridge where no one could see it from the highway. We climbed the riverbank carrying bamboo poles to hold up the banner from either side.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand like a little girl, forgetting the tissue. “The poles were fifteen feet long. The banner was twenty feet wide. We were going to hold it up like a football goal post and let the train run through it.”