Louder Than Words

by Brett Baker

  “He asked me about it. I don’t know if he came up with the idea or not. But he’s the one who asked me about it. But we can’t use the airport. It’s not a large airport, and it’s not closely monitored, but the best way to get some unwanted attention is to start bringing drugs through there. All we’d need is for one nosy pilot to see what was going on and alert the authorities. Too risky. We thought maybe they’d shut down the airport if they knew what was going on. We didn’t want to do that.”

  “Wow, you really are a civic hero,” I said. “Missing out on the chance to ship cocaine into the airport just so it doesn’t get shut down. You should get the key to the city or something.”

  “Do you want to know what happened or not?”

  “Continue.”

  “We couldn’t use the airport, but after some deal-making with other members of the council, we secured some funding for a road.”

  “342?”

  “Yes. We got a lot of grief about that. People called it the Road to Nowhere. Isn’t everywhere a road to nowhere at the beginning though? I thought they were very unfair about that.”

  “Would you have been happier if they called it Road to Cocaine? You’re lucky they thought it led nowhere.”

  Dirk looked like he wanted to lash out at me. I imagined Cooper received the exact same look quite often.

  “After the road was built it was simple to get the warehouse out there to use as a staging area.”

  “Is this why you’ve been taking flying lessons?”

  “How do you know about the flying lessons?”

  “You’re not the one asking questions, Dirk.”

  “When we first started I planned to fly it myself. I’d fly down and pick it up, refuel, and then after we unload it here I can just land at the airport here. Nice and easy. But it became clear right away that we needed more pilots. They’re looking at daily shipments if we open enough markets, and I can’t do it every day. So we started recruiting other pilots.”

  “How?”

  “The guy who manages the airport knows a lot of the pilots. I asked him to let me know if he thought any of them might be interested.”

  “The guy who manages the airport? Bruce Danielson?” Dirk hesitated, then nodded. I suspect he just realized that he’d implicated someone else by name. “It’s nice to have people who want to kiss your ass, isn’t it?”

  “Bruce and I go back a long way. He’s a good guy.”

  “He covers for you,” I said. “Is that how you measure whether someone’s a good guy? Whether or not he’ll cover for you?”

  Dirk didn’t respond. Instead he looked down at his hands, and for the first time it seemed he had thought of someone besides himself.

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “We’re just getting started,” Dirk said. “We’ve had a few shipments come through, but distribution was a problem. We’d just arranged to start sending it to Chicago, and if that went well then we hoped to expand.”

  “The vans go to Chicago?”

  “No. The vans drive it up into Alabama, and we’ve got other people who take it the rest of the way. Smaller batches. More people. That way if one of them gets busted we don’t lose the whole shipment. Plus, no one suspects some seventy-year-old retiree to work as a mule.”

  “Wonderful,” I said. “Now that I know how it all works, I can tell you that I don’t care about any of it. I think you’re despicable, and if you have any integrity you’ll resign from the county council and give away most of your money to offset the damage you’ve caused, but that’s not my concern.”

  “What? Why the hell did you let me tell you all of that then? Why are you wasting my time?”

  “Your time is my time, Dirk. You’ll do what I say. Who’s Martin Coulson?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re lying, Dirk. I came into town asking about Coulson. I didn’t know anything about any of the rest of this stuff. And all it took was for me to mention Coulson’s name and you sent two goons to kill me.”

  “I didn’t send anyone to kill you!” Dirk yelled.

  “Yes, you did, Dirk. Lying to me will send you to prison. I talked to Leona and then someone tried to kill me. That seems rather coincidental. Especially considering that you and Leona seem awfully tight. But let me guess, you don’t now Leona either?”

  “I know Leona,” Dirk said, sounding defeated.

  “Great! So you do know how to tell the truth. After two lies in thirty seconds, I thought maybe you’d forgotten. So let’s recap what we know. You know Leona. You sent two guys to kill me.”

  “Bruce sent them,” Dirk interrupted. “I told him that you were asking questions and he sent the guys. They were his guys.”

  “Well they’re dead. I don’t know if you figured that out or not, but they are. You should have sent better guys. Or Bruce should have sent better guys. By the way, so much for your long friendship with Bruce, huh? Now you’re just throwing him under the bus left and right.” I looked for another sign of empathy in Dirk’s reaction, but instead he just looked at me. “So tell me why the mere mention of Martin Coulson’s name almost cost me my life.”

  “Coulson was working on arranging Chicago for us. Distribution is the key to this whole thing, and Coulson had contacts all over the place. He’d just gone to Chicago and we were waiting to hear back from him before giving the go ahead on the next shipment. But he never got back to us. Then after what you did the other night I decided not to wait. You’ve thrown a lot of this into chaos. I took the liberty to try and capitalize on the chaos, and ordered the next round of shipments to come in.”

  “When was the last time you talked to Coulson?”

  “Before you arrived. I haven’t heard from him since you came down here and started asking questions. Is there something I should know?”

  “You don’t need to know anything,” I said. “Don’t forget, you’re not the one asking questions here. Did you send the guy the other night?” Dirk didn’t answer. He looked off into the distance, toward the French doors, as if avoiding the question would prevent him from acknowledging the truth. “Were you the one he called after he killed me?” Again, no answer, which was all the answer I needed. “Who was that guy?”

  “I didn’t send him. Someone asked me how things were going, and I said you were asking questions and making me nervous. They asked me what needed to happen to proceed, and I said we needed to take care of you.”

  “You said that you needed to take care of me and claim that you didn’t send him to kill me? You might not have signed the orders, but you sure made the request. Whatever you need to do to find a way to live yourself, you go ahead and do it. Who asked how things were going? Who’d you talk to?”

  “I don’t know his name. As far as I know he doesn’t have a name. He’s never identified himself.” I scowled at Oswalt, something about his mannerism told me he was telling the truth.

  “He’s the guy calling the shots?”

  “I guess so. Ospina arranged everything in South America. But this guy coordinates things up here. He’s the one who sent Coulson to Chicago. And when the guy called me the other night from your room, I didn’t even know he was going. This guy in charge must have arranged it. He’s the only one I talked to.”

  “And you don’t have a name for him?”

  “No. Ospina referred to him as O one time, but that’s the only reference I’ve heard.”

  “O?”

  “Yeah, like the letter. At first I thought Ospina was talking about himself, but that clearly wasn’t the case. He said that O had to keep his distance, so he found other people to run the day-to-day operations in various cities. I don’t know if Coulson was the guy in Chicago, but he’s the guy that O sent to set things up.”

  “What did Coulson say the last time you talked to him?”

  “That he had some meetings. He’d already talked to a couple of guys who had their own operations up there, and he thought he’d be able to work something out. But C
oulson said even if he couldn’t come to an agreement with the other parties up there that we should just push forward with it. He thought he could find another way to eliminate the others, and open it up for our stuff. But I don’t know how he planned to do that. Those decisions happened at a higher level than me. I had responsibility up until the senior citizens took possession in Alabama. After that someone else took over.”

  “Someone else?”

  “I don’t know. I had too much to worry about with my own stuff to give any thought to what happened after I did what I had to do.”

  “How do I get in touch with O?”

  “I don’t know. I never got in touch with him. He always got in touch with me. I tried to call him back one time and the number rang to the Los Angeles Police Department gang unit. I don’t think that’s where he called from, but it scared the hell out of me, which is probably why he did it.”

  I felt like I had enough from Oswalt, and believed him when he said he didn’t know much about Coulson. With the mystery of the Road to Nowhere solved, I wasn’t sure if I had any use for Oswalt. I stood up from my chair and walked toward the French doors.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “We’re done here,” I said. “But don’t forget, I still have all of those pictures and recordings. If anything happens to me, you’re going to have reporters calling you within a matter of days. And you need to rethink your involvement in this entire operation. You’re out of your league here, Dirk. You’re a big deal in Dixie County, but you’re small time to the rest of these guys. You’re lucky I took care of the guys at the campsite for you, because if I didn’t, they would have eventually taken care of you.”

  “Are you going to the police?” Dirk asked.

  “I don’t know where I’m going,” I said.

  Chapter 38

  I left Oswalt’s house, stopping in each bedroom on my way out to ensure that Cooper hadn’t overheard anything that happened. I didn’t anticipate that he’d present much of a threat, but I still wanted to know if he was there. But all rooms remained empty, and I assumed he’d found an alternative spot to rest his obnoxious drunk head for the night.

  Not until I made it out of the house did I remember that I didn’t have a car. I thought about borrowing Cooper’s car, but considering the delicacy of the situation I figured it best to continue walking. Since I’d made contact with Dirk, I no longer had to pretend to be dead, so I could return to the El Hombre without worry. Or at least with no worry in addition to the consistent state of worry that dominated my everyday life.

  The first glimpses of sunrise appeared in the distance as I walked toward highway 19. A car sped in my direction from highway 19, and I ducked into the woods to stay out of sight. Although I didn’t have to pretend to be dead, I still didn’t want Cooper to see me walking near his house if he was just returning from his nocturnal activities. As the car passed I tried to catch a glimpse of its passengers, but the low light and high speed made it next to impossible.

  With the rest of the town still at least an hour from stirring and beginning their day, the walk to the El Hombre remained uneventful. I passed around the back of the hotel so I didn’t have to walk past the lobby. I had no interest in engaging with Ashtray if she was up and around at such an early hour.

  My car looked untouched in front of my room, and when I looked inside it didn’t seem as if anything had been disturbed. I looked at the curtains through the window and wished that I’d paid attention to how they looked when I left so I could tell if anyone had been inside. However, when I remembered that I’d left Curtis and the doll inside, I figured that a cleanup team from The Summit would have been in my room even if no one else had entered. Despite their reliability, I worried that they hadn’t disposed of Curtis while I was gone. They’d failed to follow up on my activities at the campsite, and I suspected that was an isolated failure, but I didn’t want to have to deal with a body in my room.

  I opened the door, and slid off to the side, out of the path of any gunshots in case Dirk had somehow scrambled one of his goons to take me out in the short time since I’d left his house. I peeked around the corner, and the room looked empty. Both Curtis and the doll had been picked up, and no one else waited for me. I went inside, did my usual room check, and then stood at the window for a few minutes, looking through the curtains to ensure no one had followed me.

  After everything seemed clear, I decided to take a nap. I had no idea what to do next with the information Oswalt had given me. Most of the time the next step seemed clear, and if it didn’t seem clear, it didn’t take me long to figure it out. But even though I knew what Oswalt was up to, I hadn’t discovered the truth about Coulson. I hoped that a restful nap would help clear my mind after a chaotic night.

  I ended up sleeping longer than I had anticipated, and when I looked at the clock and saw it was almost ten, I jumped out of bed as if I was late for an appointment. Even though I had no idea what to do next, I knew I had to get started.

  I showered, dressed, and debated whether to go see Tyler Jo or the lady at the gas station. Neither had provided leads that proved particularly helpful in sorting out the chaos of Dixie County, but I enjoyed talking to both of them. And I knew that quite often the most helpful developments in an investigation occurred when talking about things unrelated to the mission at hand.

  Meredith, the lady at the gas station always implied that I was an inconvenience to her, so I decided to start there. If she wore me down too much I could count on Tyler Jo to entertain me.

  I drove to the gas station, and parked next to the hut, and walked inside. I didn’t hear the television, so I thought that a different attendant might be on duty. I looked toward the counter, but saw no one there. Without thinking much of it I grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler, and a Butterfinger. Just as I walked toward the counter the door on the opposite side from where I parked open, and in walked Meredith.

  “There you are, Meredith. I thought I had the place to myself.”

  “Are you crazy? You think I’m just going to leave this place without supervision. The criminals in this town would come clean us out in minutes. Not an honest sonofabitch within fifty miles of this place. No one will tell you that, but it’s the truth. By the way, how the hell do you know my name?” She looked down at her chest as if searching for a name tag.

  “Tyler Jo told me.”

  “Why are you talking to Tyler Jo? All that guy does is gossip. If you have a secret that you want everyone to know, tell Tyler Jo.”

  “You told me to go see him a few days ago. Remember, I was looking for a relative and you thought he might know him.”

  “If you say so,” she said, walking past me as if she had no recollection of the conversation. “I don’t like it when people know my name. Especially if I don’t know their name.”

  “My name is Mia Mathis.”

  She stopped at the door that led behind the counter, and looked at me with complete disdain. “I don’t give a shit what your name is.”

  “You just said you wanted to know my name.”

  “You don’t listen. I said I don’t want you to my name if I don’t know your name. That doesn’t mean I want to know your name. It means I don’t want you to know my name. Are you buying something?”

  She opened the door, and walked behind the counter. I put my water and candy on the counter. She didn’t acknowledge me, but rather disappeared behind a stack of boxes. The loud voice of a news reporter filled the air as she turned on the television.

  “Police are asking for the public’s help in locating a man who’s been missing for more than twenty-four hours.”

  “Can I just pay for this?” I asked. Meredith put up her hand, telling me to stop talking. I felt a sense of déjà vu, as I’d been stymied by Meredith’s devotion to all things television before. The last time I heard coverage of my handiwork at the campsite, but unless Oswalt had gone into hiding, I didn’t expect to be the cause of this news report.

&
nbsp; I was wrong.

  “Derek Anthony Curtis, of Herndon, Virginia, hasn’t been heard from since Monday. He’s been on vacation to the Space Coast with his family, and left their rented condo Monday night for a fishing charter, and hasn’t been heard from since. When he didn’t return from the fishing charter, his family began searching for him. The fishing company never had him registered to take part in the night time charter. The case took another turn this morning with word that Gainesville police located his car in the long-term parking lot of Gainesville Regional Airport. Police are asking the public to call them if they have any tips about Derek Anthony Curtis’s location.”

  The reporter threw it back to the anchor, who thanked her, before continuing. “Another development in the case. We’ve just learned that Derek Anthony Curtis, who, as you’ve just heard, has been missing since Monday night, is the brother of Sean Curtis, the administrator of the United States Drug Enforcement Administration. It’s unknown at this time whether Sean Curtis’s work with the DEA has anything to do with Derek Curtis’s disappearance. We’ll update this story during our four o’clock newscast.”

  Meredith finally looked at me, her hands waving as she spoke, so excited by something new to follow that she could barely stand it. “See, I told you. No honest people within fifty miles of this place. I know the news won’t say it, but it’s a safe bet that his brother’s work had something to do with his disappearance. A bunch of drug dealers get cut down, and then a few days later the DEA guy’s brother is missing? He’s alligator kibble, for sure.”

  “You think so?” I asked, resisting the temptation to tell her that I knew exactly what happened to Derek Curtis.

  “Sure as you’re standing here. Those drug dealers have long memories.”

  “You think the DEA killed the drug dealers?” I asked, trying to follow her logic. “And their memories don’t have to be very long. It just happened a few days ago.”

  “I don’t know what happened,” she said, “but there’s no way it’s a coincidence. I bet that DEA guy knows it, too. He’s got to feel guilty. Getting his brother killed. I wouldn’t want to live with that. Although my brother is a jerk, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.”