by R Weir
“He isn’t working but he has a cabin up in the hills outside of town. I can get you the location, but can I finish my meal and drink, please?”
I slid the large round glass back to him, while he gobbled down his food. The check would be large, but worth the price.
Chapter 64
I got a fair night sleep on the horrible bed in the hotel room. But at least the building was quiet, with no loud neighbors doing the nasty all-night long. After a continental breakfast, that included some hot scrambled eggs, I hit the road using the GPS on my phone to navigate.
Burton said Kyle’s place was in the foothills east of Murillo, near Grant Lake. It was a decent drive through some winding roads, though certainly no worse than those we had in Colorado. The weather was good, getting cooler as I went up in elevation. But this elevation was still lower than Denver, so nothing I couldn’t handle. Burton had warned me to be careful, as Kyle was a little skittish and might not take kindly to my visit. I was happy to accept the warning, since I had no gun with me on this short trip, though the information had cost me a pretty penny once the dinner bill had arrived.
The voice on the GPS told me I was getting close. Her tone was soothing, someone I’d be interested in meeting. Though she probably didn’t get out much, since she lived most of her life in a recording studio. I pulled off the road near the turnoff, bringing up the satellite map of the area. Cell coverage was still giving me a couple of bars, which was helpful, showing me open brown areas, surrounded by clusters of trees, mostly pines. His cabin was off the road about a mile in, where the trees took over. Since I had no gun and he certainly would have several, I needed to approach on foot. I was wearing my running clothes, with my running shoes. I would jog in and approach from a blind side, if I found one. From there I would play it by ear.
I began a slow jog after a few simple stretches, easy at first to give my legs some time to warm up. The thigh had fully healed from the gunshot wound, though was tender in spots. I tried to stay on as even a surface as I could, but the dirt road was mixed with rocks of varying sizes, and I had to watch carefully where I was going. I didn’t need to roll an ankle to add to my collection of injuries. It didn’t take me long to traverse the distance, the road going at a slight incline. I had a nice sweat going, my breathing relaxed, my heart beating at a good clip. About three quarters of the way in I came to a gate adorned with signs declaring it was private property and to keep out. There was a fence with barb wire running on each side of it, weaving in and around the trees. I walked along the fence looking for any openings and soon found a section that had fallen, which I stepped through. I kept as much cover in front of me as I could, slowly moving in. It took some time, but I saw the side of the cabin from a distance, a trail of smoke coming out of its chimney.
The outside of the structure was in decent shape, the half log outside stained a natural bronze color. It wasn’t huge in size, one story with probably three rooms and a kitchen. I could see windows on two sides, with the back door that opened out onto a wood deck with chairs and table, the front opening with a railing and a short deck with another couple of chairs. There was a lot of chopped firewood stacked away from the house, over against a couple of trees.
I moved as close as I could without being seen, careful of where I walked. Burton had said Kyle was naturally paranoid of people coming to get him, especially government people. And was now even more so, since the feds had been crawling all over WANN Systems and digging into the lives of all the higher ups in the company.
My vigilance paid off as I found one claw type trap, the kind for catching the leg of a large animal and could have broken my shin if I stepped into it. Grabbing a tree limb, I set it off, so as not to worry about it later. But if there was one, there could be more, and I liked my shins the way they were, so I continued carefully.
The noise of the trap going off was louder than I wanted, the snap travelling through the air in this remote area. I slumped down watching the windows and doors for any sign of activity.
A curtain moved, a face showing through the glass, and then in a couple of minutes out the back door stepped Kyle holding a rifle. If he saw me I would definitely be in trouble with the .30-30 Winchester under his arm, a weapon that could take out anyone from a distance. I stayed as low as I could and tried not to move too much, the pine needles on the ground poking into my skin. In his other hand was a coffee cup, the stream rolling off as he drank it. His eyes scanned where I was, seeming to lock onto my location.
“Whoever you are, you better come out before I shoot you,” he said. “You’re on private property and I’d be within my rights to do so.”
So much for me sneaking up on him. He could shoot me with no problem from this distance if I didn’t acknowledge him. Of course, once I stood up and he saw who I was, he could shoot me too, out of spite. Neither option was appealing.
“Don’t shoot,” I said, figuring he’d fire on me if I didn’t stand. “I’m here to talk and nothing more.”
He put his coffee down, his rifle held in both hands, aiming in my direction.
“Let me see you and make sure you have your hands up. Any wrong move and I’ll put a hole in you.”
I stood up, my hands in the air. I wasn’t going to move at all unless I thought he might fire.
“Walk towards me slowly.” He was calm, but forceful with his orders.
I did as he said. From what I could tell he still hadn’t recognized me. I was about two hundred feet away, the rifle still aimed.
“What the hell do you want?” he said now realizing who I was. There was no joy on his face I was there.
“Can I put my hands down?” I asked.
“I’m not certain. I really should shoot you for what you’ve done.”
“All I did was what my client hired me to do. And that was to find the killer of her husband.”
“And ruin many people’s lives, including all the employees of WANN who are now out of work.”
“From the illegal activities of those that managed the company. I just happen to bring it to light in the process of solving the murder.”
“Keep working your way forward.”
I did as he said, then noticed another trap directly in front of me. I traversed around it, happy I’d been diligent. It could be he hoped I’d have stepped in it, his face looked disappointed I missed it.
“Thanks for the warning,” I said sarcastically.
“Would have served you right. It might have gone clean through your leg and I wouldn’t have cared.”
Kyle moved his rifle to his right side, holding with only his right hand. He went and sat in one of the chairs, taking another drink of his hot beverage. My arms were still raised, his weapon still pointed, and I continued to walk, though carefully, watching for any more traps.
“You said you wanted to talk,” asked Kyle. “What about?”
I asked him the same question I’d asked of Logan and Burton.
“Why do you think I would know how to contact them?” he asked.
“Because I’m told you’re the one that assisted in bringing them into the business in the first place.”
“Who told you this?”
“Do I need to spell it out? I’m sure you can guess who.”
He shook his head in disgust. “Those fucking idiots. Especially Burton, rolling over and making a deal with the feds to save his ass.”
“I’m guessing you wouldn’t do the same.”
He spat on the ground. “Hell no. I would never deal with those government pussies. I dislike them all. I don’t care what side of the political aisle they are on.”
I had reached the front of the deck and stood there. The rifle was still pointed but would be harder to shoot me one handed. Still I didn’t want to get too close and make him nervous. It seems he had a short fuse.
“I’m not here to debate politics. What I’m here for is getting in contact with Aleksi.”
“Why do you need to see him? For that matter, why s
hould I even help you?” He became even more agitated at my request.
“I’m in a situation that requires his assistance. Pretty much all I can tell you. If you have a number I can call him at, please give it to me. Or if you can contact him, to reach out to me, that would be helpful. It could save a young woman’s life.”
I wasn’t sure if I could appeal to his conscience or not. I wasn’t sure he even had one to begin with, especially with the way he was acting towards me. It didn’t take long to get an answer from a man whose vile anger ran deep.
“I could care less about some woman’s life. And I sure as hell don’t give a shit about helping you after what you did. As I said I’d be within my rights to shoot you right here for trespassing. I’m going to give you ten minutes to leave before I put a hole in you and then let the coyotes eat your dead remains.”
His statement was clear, and I didn’t care to die today and provide a feast for scavengers. I turned and started walking towards his main gate, sensing he was behind me all the way to make sure I didn’t try anything. Once past the entrance, I started my slow jog, the entire way thinking the whole trip to California had been a bust and I was no closer to finding Aleksi.
Chapter 65
It strongly crossed my mind to go visit Lyndi and try to get something out of this trip. A passionate night with her would have at least taken the edge off. But I knew unbridled passion was not the answer, no matter how tempted I was. Being a better person in my relationships was important to me. And I owed it to April to be the best boyfriend I could be.
Arriving at the airport for my flight early the next morning, I dropped off my rental and was about to hop on the shuttle to take me to the main concourse, when I was approached by a tall, slender woman with long dark hair, in a gray pant suit. She stopped in front of me, holding an ID in her hand. It looked like a pilot’s ID, with her name, Gisella Altsmann, in nice print alongside her picture.
“Jarvis Mann,” she said, with a slight European accent. “Could you come with me, please?”
I was surprised by the request. “I don’t want to miss my flight. What is this about?”
“Please, if you’ll join me in our car, we can make sure you get back to Denver on time.”
I hesitated, I wasn’t sure what she wanted. I repeated my previous statement to her.
“Sir, I really must insist,” she said, looking a little angry. “I’d rather not insist more strongly.”
This was becoming all too common. Another ride in a strange vehicle I wasn’t counting on. Her face and stature showed strength and determination. Lean though athletic, pent up toughness ready to uncoil was apparent. There was little doubt she would be a challenge to tangle with. And I didn’t care to fight with a woman, unless absolutely necessary.
“Lead the way,” I said, giving in.
She motioned the direction, so I followed beside her. She was wearing black boots, with a short heel, putting her an inch or so taller than I was. She might have had a gun behind her jacket, though it was hidden well. She led me to a black limo, opening the door for me, then taking my luggage to put in the trunk. I climbed in the back, where I was alone, the leather seats comfortable, with a lot of cushion. I was calm, though aware of everything going on, ready to act if necessary. She then got into the back with me and told the driver to drive off.
“Where are we headed, Gisella?” I asked of her.
“Another section of the airport. We have a private jet there waiting.”
“Who is on the jet?” I looked at her curious about the passengers.
“Not to worry. You will know in time.”
“Can I call the airline, so I can get my money back on the ticket?”
“Already been handled.” She gazed back at me, serious in her response.
I nodded, wondering who was calling the shots. Looking in the limo, it was top notch, with car phone, entertainment center and a mini fridge. Much fancier than the SUV rides I’d been taking. If I was being taken to my doom at least I was going in high class accommodations.
It took about fifteen minutes to arrive at our destination, going through a checkpoint, where the driver showed an ID. Then off past a hanger to the airfield next to a small jet. Gisella got out, grabbed my luggage, then opened the door for me. Stepping out, I could hear the jet engine was running, the side door was open, the steps extended. She gestured with her hand to climb inside, her a step behind.
Once in the compartment I looked in the cockpit, where the pilot was going through his checklist. Turning I saw several padded leather chairs, each with small tables between them. Sitting in one of the chairs was Aleksi Platov. Somehow he’d found me, and I wasn’t sure whether I should be pleased or worried. He stood up and motioned for me to sit down, as Gisella stowed away my luggage in the back, before joining the pilot in the co-pilot seat.
“Nice jet,” I said, while sitting down, more comfortable than any I’d ever sat in on a commercial airline. Comfortable seats must have been important for the Russian mobster.
“She is a beauty,” Aleksi stated. “I hate flying on the big jets. So many regulations, rules and security procedures to follow. This is much easier.”
“Costly though.”
“Money is not an issue for us.”
It rarely was for someone in his line of work. Aleksi oversaw a Russian criminal enterprise named Vlast. We had tangled early in the Aaron Bailey case, but in the end, had become allies, in a manner of speaking. Aleksi was solidly built, strong and tall at 6’2” and someone who could hit like a sledgehammer, which I’d experienced first-hand. He was dressed in expensive dark slacks and silver satin shirt, the sleeves rolled up slightly, his jacket sitting on the seat behind him. His brother Petya, who matched him in size and weight, was sitting across the aisle, with another man I didn’t know of similar stature. I nodded to them both but didn’t get much of a response. They were playing cards for money from what I saw.
“Thank you for joining us,” said Aleksi.
“Gisella insisted. I wasn’t sure what to think of going with her. It seemed I might be overmatched.”
“Good thing you agreed, because she can handle herself. I might be the only one who can put her down in hand to hand battle. Even then it wouldn’t be a…what do you Americans say…a cake walk.”
“Never had my ass handed to me by a woman before. And I didn’t care to start today. How did you know I was here?” I was curious, though doubted I’d get much detail.
“Word got out you were looking for us. We thought we’d find you first and see what you wanted.”
“You were in the Bay area?”
“No. But it was easy to get here, and we weren’t doing anything pressing that couldn’t wait. We weren’t too far away. Give us a chance to catch up. News broke of your success in finding that psycho in Denver carving up women. How does it feel to have your name mentioned on the news?”
It would seem the capture of The Butcher was national news. Being a minor celebrity had its perks, but wasn’t why I was in the business.
“I’ve had my fifteen minutes of fame before. Gets my phone ringing with new potential clients, which is always a good thing. Allows me to be a little choosier on which cases I take.”
“I’m certain after the big score and payoff from WANN you didn’t have to work at all if you didn’t want to.”
“It was a nice check. But I like working. The selection on Netflix isn’t as good as it once was, so there is only so much couch potato lounging one can do.” I was hoping he got my humor.
Aleksi laughed and waved for his attendant to come over. She was a shorter European woman, with long dark hair tied into a ponytail, dressed in short white skirt and tight red blouse, showing a lot of cleavage. I cringed at the tight red spiked high heels she was wearing, that had to be killing her feet.
“What can I get you, sir?” she asked of Aleksi.
“I’d like some whiskey with ice please. What about you, Jarvis?”
“A beer would b
e great.”
“We have some Russian beer you will love. Bring him a bottle and a chilled mug.”
She stepped away slowly and gingerly, confirming my thought about the heels.
“No vodka?” I asked.
“Believe it or not, vodka is not the only thing we Russians drink. I try not to follow all of the stereotypes.”
“Nice to see you stretching out and trying new things. Maybe you can try a Pina Colada and really break the stereotype.”
He snorted. “Not going to happen.”
The attendant returned with our drinks. I took a sip and found it to be quite strong and a little bitter.
“Not like the fairy American beers, is it,” he said, proudly. “Will grow hair on your chest.”
More likely it would burn the lining off my stomach if I drank it too quickly. But I wouldn’t complain, instead I continue to sip it slowly, making it last the whole flight. Hopefully there will be some food to balance it out. The seatbelt sign came on when the plane started to taxi and soon had clearance and we were in the air. Flying was never fun for me, especially in a smaller contained space like a private jet. I masked my fear and tried not the grab the armrests to tightly.
“Let’s get down to business,” said Aleksi. “What were you wanting to talk with me about?”
My initial meeting with Aleksi over a year ago had not been cordial, his job to convince me to stop investigating the Aaron Bailey case, in an aggressive manner. By the end of the case, we had become… friendly, or at least it would appear that way. I wasn’t sure how much I could trust him, but I knew he didn’t care for those in the Chinese government. My plan was to lay out what was going on honestly and see where it led.
“I was paid a visit by some Chinese gentlemen,” I said. “One in particular wanted me to track you down.”
