The Fixer, Season 1

by Rex Carpenter

  JC had neither the time nor the desire to sort out the expanding dynamics of the situation. The two dead bodies in the back of the kitchen needed to be taken care of as well as the kidnapped police detective in the trunk of a stolen car. And they still needed to get Kowalski sorted out.

  “Listen up!” JC said with the tone that only the boss seems to have.

  All eyes snapped to him.

  He gave everyone a job, including Lorraine. Theo was allowed to rest. If it was only a flesh wound as Lorraine said, then great, but getting shot still hurts. JC and Joan set to work staging the restaurant to cover the deaths of the two workers. It wouldn’t be long before the deadly gunfight in the alley brought the attention of someone. Likely the police. Best to provide them with a plausible story and little evidence than let them sort through what actually happened.

  Joan’s jaw was set. JC knew she was seething at the challenge by Lorraine. Anyone could see it. But that had to wait. Right now they all needed to work together to make the inside of the restaurant look like a fight had broken out between the two dead men. He asked Lorraine for some blood and clothing. The woman kicked off her shoes and stripped off her t-shirt revealing a camisole underneath. She quickly took a knife to the inside of her forearm. JC dabbed her shirt in the blood, ripped it nearly in half and tossed it into the kitchen while Duke led Lorraine out the back door, smearing blood on the handle and dripping it up the alleyway. After a few yards, Lorraine wrapped up her wound and came back with Duke’s support. Duke took a garbage can full of food waste and spilled it on the pools of mixed bleach and blood in the alleyway. Not perfect but it might help. Joan had already set up the interior of the restaurant. Shot through Nakka’s wounds with Pong’s AK-47. Added a few more for good measure. Set a candle alight on one of the tables. Set Duke’s shotgun on the floor next to the man. Closed all ventilation. Turned on all the gas appliances. Everyone exited the building. Closed the door gently.

  The hope was that the investigators would find the smoldering remains of what looked like a fight gone bad. Pong had stabbed the younger Nakka repeatedly and slashed his throat. Nakka then shot Pong in the head with a shotgun. As Pong died, his finger reflexively squeezed the trigger of his AK-47, hitting Nakka several times. They both collapsed from their wounds. Soon the restaurant filled with gas and then exploded. The blood leading away from the scene, if found, would indicate a female had left the scene as well. JC hoped that an overworked unimaginative detective would postulate that the two Thai men had fought and killed each other over a girl who had gotten away. Said girl, lost into the maw of Thai Town, would be left alone, a footnote in a technically unsolved but generally resolved case.

  It wasn’t neat and cleanly tied up. It was messy as hell. A thorough investigation by a dedicated detective would unearth numerous inconsistencies. But JC and the team had bigger problems. Like getting an uncooperative Campbell across the city and into the arms of the BHPD. Without getting nabbed for the murder of Senator Marcus, the murder of the two Thai men and the kidnapping of a member of the police department.

  It wasn’t going to be easy. To smooth things along, JC had two calls to make. One was to Jacob Meier. The second was to a crooked policeman.

  *****

  Meier didn’t speak much. Almost not at all. JC pretended to be checking on the availability of the police officer Meier had told them about earlier, an Officer Sullivan. It was an excuse. He really wanted to check in with his lawyer. If JC’s plans all failed, Meier was likely going to be their ticket out of the federal penitentiary and away from any lethal injection. Jacob wasn’t talkative, however, and JC had no time to get into soul-searching conversations with him, trying to figure out what was wrong. So he simply hung up. He’d ask him later. If they even had a later.

  Officer Sullivan answered on the second ring. JC was brief with what they had: Dirty cop, recorded confessions that will exonerate a good cop held in lockup. Sullivan agreed to meet in the parking lot across the street from the BHPD Main Station. Thirty minutes. Didn’t give JC and the team much time, but it would have to do.

  Theo, bandaged by Lorraine and wearing a Singha beer t-shirt from the restaurant, took JC and Duke aside.

  “Listen guys,” he said. “You still wearing the bulletproof vests?”

  Both men nodded silently.

  “Good. Listen, don’t bother hanging on to the uniforms or bikes. Lisa won’t care about the uniforms. She’s getting paid enough to not care. My cousin isn’t going to get into any trouble with the bikes being taken from his shop. He’ll just say they’re stolen if anyone comes around asking.” Theo paused.

  JC stared at him. “Okay.” Waited. “Theo, what the hell? We’ve got to get going. Say what you’re going to say.”

  Theo shook his head, pursed his fleshy lips. “Just, you know, make it back,” he said. “You’re going into the belly of the beast here. If you need to dump the uniforms and bikes, do it and blend into the crowd. Alright?”

  Duke smiled. Put his arms up to hug Theo. Theo shoved them away.

  “I’m not messing around here. Come back.”

  “We will, buddy,” JC said, “we will.” Patted him on the shoulder. “Besides I think you and I need to have a conversation about your performance a few minutes ago.”

  “What?” Theo’s face was the picture of innocence.

  JC glared at him with a hint of a smile.

  Theo caved. “I knew it was a through-and-through. Thought I’d take a minute, get some sympathy. Stand up, be the hero. Good for a laugh, at least. Not every day you get shot and you don’t wind up in the ER, you know?”

  JC nodded. Clapped the man on the shoulder. “Glad you didn’t die. But take it easy.” Turned to Joan. “You ready?”

  “What about her,” Joan said, pointing to Lorraine. The young Laotian woman had cleaned up and put a t-shirt over her camisole, Chang Beer, not Singha. She was standing by the back door. Waiting.

  In truth, JC wanted to leave her behind. The young woman had lived through something unimaginable. She needed help. But getting sidetracked by her situation could lead them all down a path that led to either hundreds of years of jail time each or simply death. Still. He knew Theo was on her side. And Duke? He looked at the man. Duke looked back at him.

  “You know where I stand, boss,” Duke said.

  JC knew. You save a person’s life, there’s a decidedly increased concern for their future well-being. That’s what kept JC bound to Theo, Coletti and Mercier. At first. And Joan and Duke bound to Bannister.

  He shook his head. “She rides with Theo. We get through this, we’ll have another conversation. For now, she’s on the sidelines until we’re in the clear.”

  Duke nodded. Theo nodded as well.

  Joan didn’t.

  “No. She rides with me.”

  “Joan,” JC said, “you’re dropping off Campbell. You don’t need any more distractions.”

  “Yeah, Joan,” Theo said. “Besides, I think I can take care of her myself.”

  Joan looked at Theo. “Really? She thinks you’re a hero. I don’t imagine you’ll make the hard choices if it comes to that, Petrosian.” Scornful.

  “I’ll—” Theo started.

  “You’ll what? You’ll shoot her in the head and dump her body by the roadside if she turns out to compromise us or what we need to do here? You can do that?” Joan paused. Voice low but angry. “Because I sure as hell can.”

  Lorraine stepped forward. “I’ll ride with Joan,” she said quietly.

  JC, Duke and Theo all looked at her, surprise on their faces. “I am no threat,” Lorraine said. “Perhaps if I can convince Joan of that, then everyone here will believe it as well.” Paused. “Besides, I’ve been living under the threat of death for fourteen years now. At least if it happens now, it will be quick. Won’t it, Joan?”

  Joan nodded once. Tersely.

  “Let’s go then,” JC said already walking towards his policeman’s motorcycle. “Theo, arrange a return ride for
Joan and Lorraine at BHPD. Joan, light the fire. Duke, mount up.”

  Joan walked past Duke, digging for a disposable lighter she had taken from inside earlier to light the candle that would trigger the explosion in the building. Duke took her arm. “Joan.”

  Joan stopped. “I’m not going to kill her if I don’t have to.” Pulled her arm free.

  Duke walked towards his motorcycle. Put his Ray-Ban Aviator sunglasses back on. Glanced at Lorraine. She was already in the front seat of Campbell’s Charger. Waiting. Head and eyes down.

  Duke mounted up and rode off after JC. Joan followed in the Charger with Lorraine while Theo got into the Camry and headed back to his uncle’s shop and a waiting Lisa Hannigan.

  Three minutes later every one of them heard and felt the force of the explosion from the Thai restaurant.

  Chapter 57

  Joan

  Joan drove in silence. It wasn’t far from the Thai restaurant to the BHPD. Would likely take twenty minutes on a regular day. With the traffic stops set up to catch them it would now take an average person something like two hours. Joan figured with their unmarked police car and her false badge it would take them thirty minutes. Right on time.

  As long as she didn’t need to stop and take care of Lorraine.

  On one level, Joan empathized with her. She had gone through an inconceivable hell. Why she wasn’t wide-eyed, drooling and incoherent was beyond Joan. The woman had a toughness in her that defied what Joan expected from the average person.

  It was that deviation from the norm that was bothering Joan the most.

  On the one hand, her toughness, intelligence and resolve could be an asset to the team. She and Duke seemed to have a real bond. And her admiration for Theo, no matter how misguided or off-kilter it may be, seemed real as well. God knows how, but she had taught herself English between serving up orders of pad thai and getting beaten and raped. She seemed to be rather intelligent. And when the time came, she had killed without hesitation. But a revenge killing after fourteen years of torture is a rather different thing than shooting a person who you don’t know. Or someone who is actively trying to kill you.

  Another road block. JC and Duke breezed through it ahead of her. The officer manning it flagged her car down. Earlier in the day Joan had almost stopped at the roadblocks. Said a few words if necessary. Now she slowed, flashed her badge and sped on through. The car, the badge and her attitude was all that most police officers needed. Thankfully.

  What was setting Joan’s teeth on edge was the unknown variables. Every person JC had invited into his world he had known in one capacity or another. He had performed extensive background checks on them and interviewed nearly every person who had known them well. Only people who had passed the rigorous tests were allowed in. The bike team he had put together, that was a new thing. Maybe JC was slipping. Getting soft. Joan smiled to herself. Not likely. Not him. Joan guessed the bike team had been undergoing a form of further testing at the hands of Mercier and Coletti. Boot camp on bicycles. Break them down and then build them back up. She smiled again. Shook her head slightly. A bicycle team. Of all the goofy damn things. Makes perfect sense for JC, though.

  “You love him, don’t you?”

  Joan’s head whipped around to glare at Lorraine. The Laotian woman was sitting quietly, looking at her.

  “JC. You love him. That’s why you wanted me to ride with you. To test me. To kill me if necessary. So you could protect him.” She turned. Looked out the front of the vehicle. “I’ve seen it before. Love. In the eyes of customers.”

  Joan looked forward as well. Dodged around a water delivery truck with a blast from her horn. Breathing hard. Who the hell does she think she is?

  “I’m sorry. Sometimes I am too forward. I’m not used to speaking with people.” She smiled. Looked down. “Guess that’s one thing I can look forward to. Now.”

  Joan sighed. “Why didn’t you leave?” The question that had been burning in her mind.

  Lorraine didn’t look up. Nodded. “I cannot begin to count the times I asked myself the same thing. Hundreds of times each day.” She sighed as well. “The simple truth is I was scared. As horrible as my daily life was, I couldn’t imagine what would be waiting for me should I run.” Paused. “What would be waiting for me if Pong somehow caught me?” Shrugged. “Life, no matter how miserable and debased, is better than death. Especially if you have hope.”

  “Hope? After all you went through?”

  Lorraine shrugged again. Joan realized that the woman was far more damaged than she appeared. Her confidence was ephemeral. Once you thought it was there, it slipped away. Understandable. But dangerous for them.

  “My mother, mostly. She was from a well-to-do family. Positive. Believed everything always worked out for the best. Everything happened for a reason.” Lorraine’s voice shrank. “Two years after I was kidnapped, a year after I was secretly brought here, to the US, she committed suicide. It was on the news. Thai news.”

  “That gave you hope?” Joan knew she was being harsh and far more intrusive than most people would accept. But she had her reasons.

  Lorraine smiled. Raised her head. “Strangely enough, yes. If I gave up, then I would be dishonoring her memory. I would never do that, after all she endured for me.”

  Joan glanced at her, not fully understanding. Lorraine noticed.

  “My father and mother were in love but not married. He was higher up the social ladder than my mother and already married. Because of his family and position he could never divorce his wife.” She looked out the window. Rolled it down. Let her hair blow in the fifty mile-an-hour wind. Closed her eyes. “Romeo and Juliet in some ways, my mother said when I was young.”

  Joan looked at her more than she should have at that speed. Now would be the right time. Pull the trigger and her brains would exit the vehicle nicely. Put her hand on her gun. Then back on the steering wheel. No. Even if it’s not with our team, this girl deserves a chance. She knew that Duke would fight to keep her close. But keeping her close or not was JC’s decision. Joan’s decision was to always protect the team. And today, right now, the protection of the team did not require the killing of this woman.

  Lorraine opened her eyes. Looked at Joan.

  “Why the name? Lorraine?” Joan said. Avoiding.

  “A nickname from my mother. A province in France. She said it was where I was born. I think she meant that’s where she met my father.”

  Lorraine continued to look at Joan.

  “I’m not going to kill you,” Joan said.

  “But you almost did.”

  “I protect my own,” Joan said. Shrugged. “You’re not.”

  Lorraine nodded. “It would have been a good time to die, though. At peace. Free. Sun shining on my face.”

  Joan shook her head. Decided to change the subject.

  “I don’t understand your feelings for Theo. Duke, sure, but Theo?”

  A slight flush came to Lorraine’s cheeks. She looked down and away from Joan. Smiled, then covered her smile with her hand.

  Joan had to stop at another checkpoint before Lorraine could answer. The officer at this one wasn’t satisfied with a flash of a badge. Joan told him Lorraine was an eyewitness to the murder of Senator Marcus. Abrupt. Crisp. The man was profuse in his apologies and waved them through.

  When Joan glanced at Lorraine again, the woman’s smile was gone.

  “I’ve been waiting literally half of my life for someone to stand up to Pong. To put him in his place. Today, Theo did. It was the bravest thing I have ever seen.”

  Joan replayed the scene in her head. She couldn’t see what Lorraine thought she saw.

  “I’m sorry, but he put himself in danger. Stupidly.”

  “He was the first one to act. Everyone else stood around looking at the threat. Theo acted while you were still evaluating.”

  “Exactly, instead of evaluating what was going on and thinking of a solution first he barged his fat ass into the middle of things. Dam
n near got himself killed.”

  Lorraine half turned in the seat. Steamed.

  “He walked in front of an armed man. Ordered him to put down his weapon. Shoved his teammate out of the way, into safety. Stood there with no weapons in his hands, just his own bravery and his father’s reputation to protect him.” Paused. Turned back to the front. “I can’t imagine a braver thing in this world than saving a friend and putting yourself in the path of a bullet.” Paused again. “Can you?”

  Joan didn’t answer. They were pulling up to the Beverly Hills Police Department.

  Chapter 58

  Let’s Ride, Buddy

  Adjacent to and sharing an entrance with the historic and magnificent Beverly Hills City Hall, the Beverly Hills Police Department is housed in a far less interesting building. It looks more like an administrative extension to the soaring City Hall. JC was fine with how it looked as long as he didn’t have to go inside. He liked spending time inside police departments about as much as he did spending time inside jails or Washington D.C. Luckily he wouldn’t be going inside the BHPD today. Just parking outside of it. Still, it was close enough to make him uncomfortable.

  Pulling into the parking lot just across the street from the entrance to the PD, JC spied a uniformed officer. A closer look as JC rode past revealed his name tag read “Sullivan.” Oddly enough, the man looked like a redheaded, younger version of Jacob Meier. Taller and more barrel-chested, if that was even possible. JC and Duke stopped, dismounted and walked back to the officer.

  “You Sullivan?”

  “You Meier’s friend?”

  JC nodded. The nod was returned.

  “Whatcha got for me?”

  Joan pulled up and parked. JC looked at Joan and inclined his head towards Sullivan. Joan tossed him the keys.