Wild Gold

by Tripp Ellis

  "You’ll make sure my father doesn't get hurt, right?" Her brow knitted with worry.

  "He's going to be put into the custody of the marshals and placed in the witness protection program. They know how to keep the witnesses safe. He'll be fine,” I assured. “As soon as we get the details worked out, you can join him if you'd like. But once he enters the program, he will have to sever all ties with his former life. That means you will either have to join him, or you two may never be able to speak again."

  Tears welled in her eyes.

  I hated seeing her in such distress.

  A moment later, Sheriff Daniels called. “The judge approved the warrant. I’m readying the tactical team. Are you ready to breach and clear?“

  27

  We gathered, with a tactical response team, down the block from Fernando Gallo’s palatial estate. Clad in black with helmets and vests, the team was ready to storm the palace—assault rifles in hand. JD and I geared up as well. I had night vision opticals on my helmet, and a headset earpiece in my ear. The tiny microphone dangled on the side of my cheek. It was a sleek, tactical unit that was smaller and lighter than most Bluetooth headsets. My AR-15 was locked and loaded.

  Daniels scowled at me. "I thought I told you no guns. You're supposed to be functioning in a support position until you get your situation cleared up."

  "This is a support situation. I'm here for added intimidation. I'm not going to shoot anybody. I promise. Not unless they deserve it."

  "I don't know why I put up with you two," Daniels muttered to himself.

  "Because we get shit done," JD said.

  "Do you know what kind of shit storm is going to rain down on me if you get involved in another incident while you’re suspended and have felony charges pending?" Daniels asked.

  "Relax. We got this," I assured.

  Daniels gave me a skeptical glance.

  The peach-colored home had a Spanish tile roof and was ensconced in palm trees. Floodlights illuminated the exterior of the house, and the fountain trickled around the circular drive. There was a gated entrance and a high wall to protect the property. Fernando Gallo's initials were incorporated into the wrought-iron gate in gold letters. He even had a private canal dredged behind his house where he could dock his boat. The entrance to the canal was gated as well.

  "How do you want to do this?" I asked.

  Daniels’s face tensed. "I want the tac-team to scale the fence and break down the door with a battering ram. I want to go in with shock and awe. Bring that bastard down and scare the bejesus out of him."

  I grinned.

  "But… I don't think that’s a good idea. As much of a scumbag as we think this guy is, it's all based on the word of a man who, in my opinion, is still a suspect in his wife's murder. Chuck Carson will say anything to save his skin. We need to play this one smooth and by the numbers."

  My smile faded.

  Jack's face twisted. "That's no fun."

  "A guy like this has video surveillance around the property,” Daniels said. “And guards patrolling the perimeter.”

  “Paranoid much?" JD muttered.

  "Seems like Gallo’s got a reason to be," Daniels said. "Let's try this the easy way first. Remember. We're looking for a .45 caliber weapon and illegal gold. That's it."

  Daniels walked to the wrought-iron gate and pressed the call button on the intercom system.

  Several minutes later, Fernando's voice crackled through the speaker. He was able to see Daniels on the video monitor. “It's a little late for a social call, Sheriff Daniels. What can I do for you this evening?"

  "We have a warrant to search the premises."

  "You want to search my home? What for?"

  "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way?" Daniels said.

  "This is preposterous! I’ve done nothing wrong." Fernando took a deep breath. "But, if you insist. There is no need to break down my gate or kick in my front door. I will invite you into my home. Search until your heart is content. I have nothing to hide."

  The wrought-iron gates buzzed open, and we followed the tac-team onto the property. We advanced toward the front door as Gallo pulled it open. He held the door and motioned for us to enter, forcing a smile. "Enjoy your position as Sheriff, while it lasts."

  Daniels bit his tongue and played nice. "Just doing my job. I apologize for the inconvenience."

  The tac-team fanned out, clearing the area.

  "You storm into my home with your goon squad, brandishing assault rifles and disrupting my evening. I will not forget this." He focused his angry gaze at me. "And you... After I extended my hospitality. I'm disappointed. It seems you have no qualms with violating my privacy. Taking what's mine."

  I got the impression that he knew about my little tryst with Karina.

  I remained stoic and said nothing.

  The home was elegantly decorated. A spiral staircase in the foyer led to the second floor. Karina stood atop the stairs, looking radiant as usual. A look of curiosity played on her face. She didn't seem annoyed or concerned.

  To the left was a study filled with books and comfortable chairs. Beyond the foyer was an open area living room that connected to the dining area. Beyond that was a patio with a small pool, and beyond that was Gallo’s private dock. A luxury yacht floated on the water. It was smaller than the Vivere, which caused a slight wave of satisfaction to wash through me.

  Fernando's bodyguards stood by and watched with angry faces.

  I asked one of them if I could see his weapon. He was a short, thick guy with slicked hair and a goatee. He pulled a .45 from a shoulder holster under his coat. His thumb hit the mag release which dropped the magazine into his palm. He racked the slide, ejecting a round, then handed me the weapon.

  I smelled the barrel. It had been fired recently.

  "I was at the range earlier today," Shorty said.

  I requested the other guard’s .45 as well. "You’ll get these back after we run a ballistics check."

  The two men grumbled and scowled at me.

  The tac-team swept the house, upstairs and down. There were no other weapons in the home. No stacks of illegal gold bullion. There were no drugs. No large amounts of cash.

  The home was clean.

  Gallo was instantly on the phone with Ed Carrero.

  We proceeded to the dock and boarded the Capital Gains. It was a nice yacht, there was no doubt about it.

  "A little small for my taste," Jack said.

  We searched the lower decks, all the storage compartments, every nook and cranny. There was nothing out of place on the boat.

  Fernando stood on the dock watching us tear apart his yacht. When we were finished, we asked him a few questions.

  "You think I had something to do with Olivia Carson's death?" Fernando asked, incredulous.

  “That, and smuggling illegal Venezuelan gold to fund an oppressive regime,” JD said.

  "And you assume this because of my Venezuelan heritage?"

  “No, I assume that because we have a witness willing to testify against you."

  The muscles in Fernando's jaw flexed. His eyes burned into Jack. "On the night of Olivia's murder, I was at the country club. My two bodyguards, and Karina, were with me. They can all corroborate my story, so can a dozen other witnesses. You are barking up the wrong tree."

  "There's nothing here," one of the tactical officers muttered in the sheriff’s ear.

  "If you have any further questions, please speak with my attorney," Fernando said. "If there's nothing else, I would like you all to leave my home."

  The sheriff motioned for us to wrap it up.

  I frowned. My eyes flicked from Gallo to Karina.

  My gaze didn't go unnoticed by Fernando. "There's nothing here for you, Deputy Wild. You should leave."

  "Once again, I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Gallo." Daniels said.

  "Catch you later," I muttered.

  A slight smirk tugged on Karina's lips. She’d heard the line escaped my lips befor
e, and she seemed amused by it. So far, I hadn’t been able to catch either one of them.

  28

  "You two look like sad kittens," Madison said as we took a seat at the bar.

  JD and I frowned.

  "Things didn't exactly work out as planned," I said.

  "Whiskey, or beer?" Madison asked.

  "Whiskey," we answered in unison.

  Madison grabbed the bottle, spun it in her palm and expertly poured the amber liquid into glasses. She slid them across the counter. We sipped the smooth whiskey and wallowed in our failure to come up with anything on Fernando Gallo.

  Halfway through the glass, my phone buzzed with a text message from Dita: [Just letting you know, I'm still at the club if you want to come see me.]

  Jack looked over my shoulder at the message. He swiped the phone from my hand and responded: [Hell yes. And find a hot friend for JD.]

  He clicked send, then handed the device back to me. "The scenery is much better over there."

  "What scenery?" Madison asked.

  JD shrugged innocently.

  Her eyes narrowed. "Are you two going to a strip club?"

  "No," Jack said, dismissively. "Do we look like the type of guys that would visit such an establishment?"

  "Yes."

  JD smiled, sheepishly.

  Madison's eyes found mine. "Are you dating a stripper now?"

  "I wouldn’t go so far as to call it dating," I said.

  She groaned and rolled her eyes. "And you have the nerve to give me shit about my relationship choices?"

  "I'll have you know that Dita is a very sweet and caring girl," I said.

  "With a great ass," Jack added.

  "Yes, with a great ass."

  "Is that the only thing that is important to you two?" Madison asked, mildly disgusted.

  We both protested. "No, of course not."

  "A woman's mind is much more attractive than her body," I said.

  "But a banging body doesn't hurt," Jack muttered.

  Madison scowled at him, playfully.

  "I'm kidding,” JD said. “I mean, I like a woman who looks after herself. Good health is important."

  "Says the man who’s cultivating a hefty muffin top," Madison snarked.

  JD pretended to be offended. "I'm just packing on a little insulation for the winter. That's all."

  "Because Lord knows, the Arctic winter is coming to the Keys."

  Jack frowned at her.

  We finished our whiskey, then headed to Forbidden Fruit. It was near last call by the time we entered. Dita was on the main stage, slinking around the pole, undulating in rhythm to the beat. The spotlight made her creamy skin glow.

  Her tattoos rippled as she writhed. She had a wad of bills stuffed all around her G-string, looking like a tutu made of money. I sauntered to the stage and added one more to the band that was slung tight across her hip.

  She performed quite a show for me.

  Best money I ever spent.

  She knelt down beside me and gave me a kiss on the cheek and said, "I'll come see you when I get off stage."

  I found Jack and took a seat. A waitress in fishnet stockings sauntered to our table and took our drink order. Jack ordered a round for both of us, and one for Dita.

  I sat back and took in the hazy club. There were girls dancing on each of the main stages. Most of the men were bleary-eyed and had gone through their cash for the evening. Wallets were pretty thin this time of night.

  The current song came to an end, and the DJ rumbled, "Give it up for Dita Von Bosch on the main stage. Next up, Serenity!"

  Dita left the stage and put her bra back on. She collected the dollar bills from her G-string, folded them up neatly, and found the waitress who exchanged the smaller bills for 20s. She stuffed a wad of cash in her shoe and strutted toward me with a smile. The gorgeous vixen plunked into my lap and gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "It's about time you showed up."

  "I wanted to give you a chance to make a little money before I occupied all of your time," I said.

  She arched a skeptical eyebrow. "That's bullshit, but it's a sweet thought.”

  "How did you do tonight?"

  "Not bad. I think I'm at $780, after tip-out."

  "Not bad for an honest day’s work," JD added.

  “What would you know about an honest day’s work?” she snarked playfully.

  JD grinned. "Not much, thankfully."

  Dita decided to whet my appetite with a few dances. She did a good job of that. I was more than ready for the main course. Her silky body slithered across mine, inspiring lurid desires. Her green eyes sparkled, and her raven black hair glistened.

  She introduced JD to her friend, Constance. She was a gorgeous brunette with brown eyes, voluptuous assets, and olive skin. She was sultry, seductive, and flawless.

  JD could barely contain himself.

  He readily opened his wallet and started burning through a stack of 20s. She danced for him nonstop. It was a good thing it was near closing time, or Jack might have needed to file bankruptcy.

  The two of them actually seemed to hit it off. She lingered around long after the 20s had dried up, giggling at his jokes.

  "What are you guys doing after?" Constance asked.

  "There's an after party on my boat, and you are invited," Jack said.

  Constance seemed amenable.

  The DJ announced that the club was closing. "But don't despair, we’ll be open at 11 AM tomorrow. And these lovely ladies will be going all night long.”

  We waited for Dita and Constance to get changed and picked the two girls up at the back of the club. They both piled into my lap. It made for a tight squeeze in the tiny Porsche.

  I didn't mind a bit.

  "Maybe I didn't think through this whole speedster thing?" JD said.

  His older cabriolet had a backseat. I'm not sure I would go so far as to say it was a functional backseat. But it was a backseat, nonetheless.

  JD rocketed the Porsche across town. It was a beautiful night, and the stars flickered high overhead. Wind swirled through the cabin. Dita's hair fluttered in the breeze. She smelled like a mix of whiskey, perfume, shampoo, and the remnants of men's cologne. I fully intended to make her take a shower when we got back to the boat.

  She was fun to shower with.

  We pulled into the parking lot at Diver Down, then strolled down the dock to the Vivere.

  Dita slung her arm around me. Her hot breath tickled my ear, declaring all the dirty things she wanted me to do to her.

  I intended to satisfy her every desire.

  I glanced over my shoulder to see JD and Constance arm in arm. They both looked rather taken with each other.

  We boarded the boat and pushed into the salon. JD went straight toward the wet bar and started mixing drinks. Ice clinked in glasses, then popped and crackled as he poured warm whiskey, blanketing the frozen cubes. He made sure everybody had a drink in their hand, then he turned on the stereo and twisted the volume.

  Music pumped through the salon.

  Buddy bounced around with excitement, and the girls fawned all over him.

  It didn't take long for Dita and I to disappear below deck and reprise the previous night’s debauchery. Dita's moans were drowned out by the music above, and I was too preoccupied to notice if JD had acquired his target.

  Our sweaty bodies collided over and over again. We must have been at it for over an hour. Dita’s fingernails dug into my back. Breathy moans of ecstasy escaped her lips. When it was all said and done, it was an explosion worthy of the Big Bang. My brain flooded with oxytocin and dopamine. A warm rush of ecstasy filled my body.

  Damn, this was fun!

  Dita was habit-forming.

  She didn’t come with any warning labels, but I imagined she was quite the heartbreaker.

  Buddy pawed against the hatch, wanting in.

  My phone had been buzzing the whole time, which I dutifully ignored.

  I collapsed beside Dita, gasping for
breath. She nuzzled beside me and slung her toned leg across my hips. Her svelte fingers stroked my chest, and her warm breath cascaded across my neck.

  She felt good.

  There was no doubt about it.

  My phone kept vibrating, incessantly. “Shouldn’t you get that?” the sultry vixen asked. “Maybe it’s important?”

  “It’s 4:30 in the morning," I said.

  "That's why it might be important."

  "Whoever it is can wait.”

  "But, you’re a cop. Don't you have to answer that?"

  "I'm not a doctor," I said.

  She smiled. "Yes you are. You’re a doctor of love,” she said, dragging the word out.

  I chuckled.

  "Do you want me to get it, Dr. Wild?" she asked in a baby-doll voice.

  The phone stopped buzzing.

  Then started again.

  Dita slipped from underneath the covers and sauntered across the compartment. Her naked body was inspiring. She bent over and scooped my shorts from the deck, then fumbled for the phone in my pocket. She pulled it out and swiped the screen. "Dr. Wild's office, can I help you?"

  She listened intently for a moment, then her face turned serious. She handed me the phone.

  "Hello?"

  "Get your ass down here, Doctor,” Daniels said, snidely.

  "What's going on?"

  29

  "Deputy Reyes is dead. Sarah Carson is missing," Daniels said.

  My jaw dropped. "What?"

  “Hotel security found Reyes dead in the hallway. Looks like a two-person job. The cabana was breached via the sliding glass door. Another took out the deputy. Nobody saw anything. It looks like they escaped by boat. Just dragged her down the shore and absconded with her. A tenant in one of the rooms heard screaming. From her balcony, she saw a small speedboat racing away."

  "I'll be right there."

  I hung up the phone and hopped out of bed. I pulled on my shorts and a T-shirt.

  Dita sat up in bed, concerned. "What is it?"

  I gave her the short version.

  "Do you want me to go home? Or would you like me to stay here and keep the bed warm for you?”

  I smiled. "You can keep the sheets warm."