Suffer Not Evil: A Florida Action Adventure Novel

by Scott Cook

  Matt laughed, “Hell yeah! She’s queer for that shit, brother. Loves burying the rail.”

  “Not all she loves to bury,” Bob quipped.

  Matt grinned, “Hope the case ends fast, then.”

  “How’s that going, anyway?” Bob asked, looking over his shoulder at the railing by the edge of the pier. It had been repaired since Veronica’s boat had bent it the previous Sunday.

  I sighed, “I’m still in the, what the Christ is going on stage.”

  “Did somebody really take a shot at you?” Matt asked with evident interest.

  “Well… they say it was a coyote… which it was,” I explained. “But I don’t know… lot of weird shit happening on this one.”

  “Well, how about we finish these drinks, and you give me the nickel tour of your new craft and fill us in,” Matt suggested.

  “Love to,” I said, taking a long pull from the cold liquor, “but I’ve got to get back and see my client. A few things to discuss.”

  “Is she hot?” Matt asked with a wicked gleam in his eye.

  “Of course she is,” Bob said. “Why else would he take the job?”

  I shook my head, “Couple of lechs the bodayiz. Yes, she’s quite attractive… as is my girlfriend. So no, Matt and Bob, I’m not trying to talk her into my bed.”

  “Then send her over here,” Matt quipped.

  Bob just laughed. I shook my head. We chatted for a few more minutes, and then I excused myself to head back to work.

  “Is your horse parked out front?” Bob teased.

  “Hey, I think he’s cute,” our server said as she brought another round for the two men.

  “Oh, now you have to go,” Matt said and flipped me off.

  15

  It was dark when I pulled into Veronica’s driveway. Although there were a pair of fluorescent lights mounted into the overhead, they weren’t on, and it was rather dark beneath the house. I hardly had time to notice the large form that seemed to spring from the shadows before I heard Luther and T’s deep rumble from the darkness.

  “Who the fuck are you?” he asked menacingly.

  “Just a friendly Jehovah’s witness,” I said. “Have you heard of the Watchtower?”

  T’s bulk was suddenly very close. I had to admire both how stealthy he was and how quickly he moved for a man who couldn’t weigh less than two-fifty.

  “Oh,” he said, and his dark face suddenly showed a gleam of brilliant white teeth. “Didn’t recognize you, Jarvis. Nice getup.”

  “How’d you draw guard duty, T?” I asked as we walked toward the steps.

  T was dressed in black jeans and a black tank top that seemed to have been sprayed over his muscular torso. His shaved head gleamed dully in the light from above when we neared the bottom of the steps, “I blend into the dark good. And I can move.”

  “I believe you,” I said. “Silently, too. You armed?”

  He smiled again and in his right hand, a big Colt Anaconda .44 magnum suddenly appeared, the gun shiny even in the dark.

  “I wouldn’t screw with you without a damned good reason,” I said and smiled.

  “Few do,” T said and melted back into the darkness.

  It was a pleasant evening, and I wasn’t surprised to find Veronica and Lisa sitting on the pool deck. Joey Knuckles stood behind the bar pouring drinks. He looked up when I appeared at the top of the stairs, nodded and went back to his bartending.

  “Well, welcome back to the ranch, cowpoke,” Lisa said and giggled.

  “I see you found the Dusty Trail,” Veronica said and smiled.

  “That I did, ma’am,” I replied in a Texas drawl. “Went riding with Jean this morning.”

  “How’d your visit go?” Lisa asked.

  “Find out anything?” Veronica asked.

  “Plenty,” I said, moving to the bar. “How’s it going, Joe?”

  “All quiet,” he replied. “Want somethin’?”

  “Yeah, a draft if there’s a tap back there. Where’s Sonny and Jimmy?” I asked.

  “Taking a nap,” Joe said, pulling me a draft of Killian’s Red. “They’re taking watch later. It’s been quiet. No hoods, no crazy Cubans… nothin’.”

  “Good,” I said, picking up the beer and one of the drinks. “A nice change.”

  I handed the drink to Lisa and sat in a chair facing the loungers. Joe came over and handed Veronica her drink and sat in the chair on the other side of a small cocktail table from me.

  “So?” Lisa prompted.

  I ran down the highlights of my trip. Then I brought up the few items I’d been thinking about all day.

  “Well… yes, ma’am,” I Columboed, “Uhm… there are a couple of things botherin’ me here…”

  The women laughed, and even Joey Knuckles cracked a smile.

  “So apparently you and the rest of the board are arguing about doing an IPO,” I started. “Everybody seems in favor of it, which is odd.”

  “I think it is too,” Veronica said. “At least for the Bradfords. My way keeps the company in our hands. I understand Will’s desire. As CFO it makes sense that he’d want to take this step to grow. He’s spearheading more than one research project that would need capital to continue researching, testing and to produce.”

  “I think the kids, and maybe Mark, don’t believe that Boeing or Airbus would front you enough capital to build the new production facility or whatever,” I said.

  Veronica smiled, “Of course they don’t. Marcus Bradford isn’t a salesman. He understands manufacturing pretty well, but not customers, in my opinion. Sarah Beth thinks she knows it all but has a long way to go. Andrew is sharp, but again his experience is more in logistics than hob-knobbing. Julius and I did most of that. I know I can get the capital from either or both companies. I’ve already got handshake deals on it. They just see big dollar signs is all. Going public would take us up to half a billion practically overnight. That’s all they see. They don’t see that they have to give up the majority of the company. They don’t see that there are several players out there who are in a position to gobble up enough stock to at least have a say in how we do business. That includes Boeing and Airbus. They don’t realize that by going IPO now, Bradford Avionics would be put in a vulnerable financial position. If they don’t like that I’m running the show now, not being a Bradford, then just wait until strangers, and even foreigners start dictating policy to them.”

  “Haven’t you explained that?” Lisa asked.

  Veronica chuffed, “Until I’m blue in the face.”

  I drank some beer and then said: “I broke into Marcus’ and your houses up there last night.”

  Veronica tilted her head but didn’t react otherwise.

  “Found nothing in Marcus and Natalie’s place,” I said. “In fact, it seems… kind of impersonal.”

  Veronica chuckled, “They spend most of their time on his ranch down here. He only goes up to the facility when he has to for meetings and occasional inspections. Believe me, Scott, Marcus Bradford doesn’t really want to run anything. If he was CEO, he’d make sure that Andrew and Will ran the day-to-day stuff. He’s lazy and is inadequate to the task. More of a shit-kicker than a go-getter.”

  I nodded. There seemed to be a lot of emotional baggage around the Bradford clan. Feelings that ran deeply and went back for years.

  “And my house?” she asked with an arched brow.

  “Nothing really,” I said.

  “Why even look then?” she asked.

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to ask about the poem yet. While on the plane coming back, I’d used the onboard satellite internet to search the web for the poem but couldn’t find it anywhere. I also hesitated to bring up the reason for my snooping in the first place but could see no way around it.

  I cleared my throat, “The minute I met Sarah Beth, she got very indignant about my being there.”

  Veronica chuckled humorlessly.

  “She said I should look into your background if I wanted to find anything,” I said
. “I chalked it up to immaturity. She seems more like a snotty teenager than a college graduate.”

  Veronica nodded, “Nail on the head.”

  I drew in a breath, “But Marcus and Natalie eluded to the fact that you had a past… and Sarah Beth’s comment did as well. No surprise to me, we all have a past…”

  “But it made you suspicious of me,” Veronica said tightly. “Like maybe all of this is a figment of my imagination?”

  “Hardly,” I reassured her. “We’ve both seen plenty of evidence that it most certainly is not. However… I need to turn over every rock. It’s my job.”

  She nodded and swallowed a healthy amount of her drink. I was impressed that Joey Knuckles didn’t say a word. He seemed uninterested, although I got the impression he wasn’t missing much. Sign of a good watchdog. Stay in the background but notice everything.

  “There’s something on your mind, I can tell,” Veronica said. “Go ahead and ask.”

  I frowned, “I don’t know if it means anything… but something I found out from your FBI dossier. I got one for all the officers… it seems that on the day Sarah Beth was born, her mother and you were both at Tampa General. You for acute appendicitis and her in maternity.”She shrugged, “Yeah… just a coincidence. Not many people know that. Julius did, of course. I was at USF at the time, and he and his family lived at the ranch. It was his when BA was still a small firm. The whole company used to be located in Saint Pete back in the early days. They lived on the ranch and worked up here. The original office is still here. We still use it for the civilian portion of the business. It’s small, just a dozen people or so, and is mainly a marketing office and coding plant. Our programmers work there and handle most of the code for all of our stuff. Then it’s cross-checked by our coding team in Wyoming.”

  “Okay,” I said. “So it’s just one of those things? You didn’t know Julius Bradford then?”

  “Knew of him,” Veronica replied, a bit defensively I thought. “He did a lecture in one of my classes on entrepreneurship. We had a guest speaker every week from the area. So what?”

  I shrugged, “I don’t know, just looking under all the rocks, trying to find connections.”

  “So you don’t think my theory that it’s one of the Bradfords is the answer?” she asked a little heatedly.

  “Veronica, he’s just doing his job,” Lisa tried to soothe. “Please don’t take it personally. It’s how this works.”

  Veronica scowled, “It’s hard not to take it personally, Lisa.”

  “I’m not looking around because I don’t trust you, Veronica,” I said gently. “But we need evidence. We need to make a provable connection between the attempts on your life and the person or persons responsible. Otherwise I can’t stop them, nor can we ever be sure you’re safe. I have to go where the information takes me. I have to pull on every string I find.”

  “Well, I don’t like it,” she grumbled. She took another deep sip from her cocktail and then met my eyes. “But I understand. You have to do what you have to do and do it your way. I get it, intellectually. It’s just… emotionally it feels a bit like a betrayal.”

  I sipped my beer and thought about how to respond.

  She held up a hand, “Don’t worry, Scott. I know it’s not. There’s a lot of stuff coming up because of this. I’m frustrated, scared and angry. Please don’t let me hold you back. Don’t let my occasional anger derail your efforts. I hired you because Lionel and Trish said that you’d let nothing get in the way of the truth. Not the bad guys and not me. That’s what I need.”

  “Okay,” I said and sat back. “There is one thing I can definitely set my teeth into now. I don’t like that Ted Whittaker was taken off your boat. I don’t like that he’s Marcus’ attorney. I also don’t like the way that his doctor behaved when I went to the hospital to talk to Ted. He seemed defensive. I don’t know… so far, that’s the only bit of evidence we have that points to any of the Bradfords.”

  “What about Cardoza?” Lisa asked. “And what about those two goons that came to the office last week…what were their names?”

  I smiled, “Lawrence P. Otter and Big Top… those names mean anything to you, Joe?”

  “Never heard of ‘em,” Knuckles replied. “But we know about Cardoza. Bad news. The fuckin’ Tony Montana of Tampa. Guy runs enough blow through this area to light up a medium-sized country.”

  I grumbled something dark, “Yeah… that’s what I’ve heard, too. Been doing it for years and nobody seems to be able to stop him.”

  Joe grinned, “Maybe you should pay him a visit. Give him the treatment Big Daddy Walker got.”

  I raised an eyebrow, “You heard about that?”

  He only shrugged and grinned.

  “Can you ask your boss about Otter and Big Top?” I asked. “I already spoke to Pauli Franco, and he doesn’t know them.”

  Joe nodded, “Yeah, well… what Pauli knows… anyways… yeah, I’ll ask Mr. Santino. He’s got a line on most of the big dope pushers in the business. Keeps careful track of them. My guess is that if those two clowns are from Miami, then they work for Montoya. You know him?”

  I snorted derisively, “Oh, I know him… or about him. Had a brush with him last fall. And yeah, I’d agree. Either that or they’re just small-time protection boys. Still, a weird thing, that. Why send them up to brace me about Veronica? Plenty of other talent closer to hand I’d guess.”

  Joe shrugged, “Got me. I’m just a leg breakuh.”

  “Me too,” I said.

  We hung around until about eleven, when Veronica said she was headed to bed. Lisa and I decided we’d retire as well. That’s when Jimmy and Sonny came out to relieve Joe and T. The two men didn’t say much. They must’ve been brothers because aside from looking alike, they both moved with the smooth and economical movements that told the knowing eye that they were skilled at their work.

  Lisa was in brushing her teeth when I made a quick call to Palms at Pasadena. I got a friendly receptionist.

  “Good evening,” I said. “Can you transfer me to a patient’s room, please? Mr. Theodore Whittaker?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry sir,” the woman responded. “We don’t allow incoming calls this late for patients in the recovery unit.”

  “Oh, “I said, not that surprised. “Well, is there anyone on staff now who can tell me how he’s doing?”

  “Only his attending physician is authorized to do that, sir… do you know the doctor’s name?”

  “Yes, but I doubt he’s there… it’s Dr. Campbell. He’s the attending physician and surgeon who worked on Ted. What time does he come in?”

  There was a pause then a confused: “Dr. Campbell? Are you certain of that, sir?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I met him the other day in Mr. Whittaker’s room. Felix Campbell.”

  Another odd pause, “Well… that’s strange… Doctor Campbell isn’t a surgeon, sir… he’s in obstetrics. There must be some mistake… unless he’s a friend of Mr. Whittaker’s, perhaps. Would you like the doctor’s voicemail?”

  Now I was confused, “Uhm… no, I’ll just try Ted in the morning. I’m sure he needs his rest after his surgery. Thank you.”

  Lisa came out of the adjoining bathroom dressed in a light and rather short bathrobe that ended at mid-thigh. The robe wasn’t intended to act as lingerie but wrapped around Lisa’s intensely female frame it was affecting me as if it were.

  She smiled, “Are you getting impure thoughts?”

  “Getting?” I asked with a wry grin.

  She narrowed her eyes at me, “What is it? You look… confused.”

  “Yeah… I just found out that the attending physician for this Whittaker cat is an obstetrician,” I said.

  She frowned, “An OBGYN? Is he a surgeon, too?”

  I shook my head, “No… not according to the receptionist. Although he might do a little natal surgery… but why the Christ would he be attending Ted? I’m telllin’ you, homey, somethin’ ain’t stirrin’ the Kool-Aid.”
<
br />   “So what I’m hearing,” Lisa said, sitting next to me and leaning in close, “is that the crack investigationing team of Lisa G. and her trusty flunky what’s his ass need to dig more into this doctor’s binness.”

  “Flunky?”

  “I’m sorry, do you prefer lackey, stooge, side-kick or tag-along?”

  “So you’ve taken a vow of celibacy?”

  She grinned and opened the robe, “Oh yeah, tough guy? I know you’ve got a powerful sweet tooth and you just can’t resist all this delicious candy.”

  I laughed, “Jesus Christ… I’ve got to have a talk with Sharon… but yes, Lisa G., we definitely need to nose into Doc Campbell’s doins’. I haven’t liked anything about his deal in this thing from the start. I’ll bet his whole story is bullshit.”

  “Will you bet dollars to navy beans?”

  “You bet your cute little pooper I will.”

  She giggled, “Good. Now go brush your teeth. Momma want some smoochin’.”

  I’d just finished my oral cleansing ritual when my phone began to ring. I looked at the screen and then answered it, Lisa’s nude pose on the bed almost but not quite making me ignore the call.

  “Good evening, Commander,” Ellen Parker said cheerfully. “I hope I’m not disturbing you?”

  “Not at all, Ellen,” I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  She chuckled, “I’ve got that corporate info I mentioned yesterday. I’ve emailed you a file.”

  “That was fast,” I said.

  “I’m tenacious.”

  “Glad you’re on our side,” I replied with a chuckle. “Can you do me one more favor, please?”

  “Of course, Commander,” she said in her sexy southern accent.

  “I need to know the home address and history of a Doctor Felix Campbell. He works at Palms at Pasadena Hospital. He’s an obstetrician, apparently.”

  She paused for a moment, “Okay, got it. That should be no problem. I’ll have that info emailed to you shortly as well.”

  “You’re beautiful, Miss Moneypenny,” I said in a flawless Sean Connery.

  “Don’t you forget it. Good night, Commander.”