by Jon Mills
“Perhaps.”
“Why don’t you just make this easy for everyone and come on in?”
“Like I said, I can’t do that.”
Jack hung up on her before she could say any more. He pocketed the phone and went back into the living room. He grabbed Billy by the arm and yanked him up.
“Man, what the hell?” Billy protested.
“You’re going to take me to Tex.”
“I told you I don’t know where he is. When they took me in I had a bag over my head. You don’t get to see him. He brings you to him.”
“Think! Who is responsible for taking these drugs?”
“I…”
“Don’t say you don’t know or I will shoot you here where you stand.”
He looked as if he was trying to think. “Well, I mean. He said he had a new guy that was cooking up batches of meth for him. But before that, he worked with a guy by the name of Markus. He might know. He might even still work for him.”
“Right, let’s head on over to his place.”
“I need to phone him and find out the address.”
He stared back blankly. “Well, go on then.”
Billy went back through the kitchen and into the living room area where he had first sat down with Mike. He looked on the table but his phone was gone. Frantically he searched around on the floor and under the chairs before he kicked the table. That was followed by a fit of rage and he proceeded to smash anything and everything that was within reach. When he was done he was panting hard and sweating. He cursed and picked up a bottle of beer and chugged it back.
“I’m guessing by your horrid attempt at redecorating this place that you’ve got more bad news?”
“My phone is gone.”
Right then, Jack’s phone rang. He looked down and saw the caller ID was Theresa. The agent was trying to get back through to him again. He declined the call. She wasn’t going to give up. Things were spiraling out of control real fast. He’d wasted enough time with this bonehead. If he hadn’t got involved with drugs, they wouldn’t be in this position.
He took out his gun and pressed it against Billy’s head.
“I’m all out of patience. You better know who we need to go see right now or I’m going to put a bullet through your thick skull.”
He threw his hands up all defensive like. “Okay. Okay. I know someone who might know.”
Chapter 21
Frustrated at the way the conversation had gone, Isabel still had no idea where he was. Theresa had practically shut down. The only lead she had was an address for Billy and Theresa’s home address. She arranged for a police officer to remain outside her hospital room before she left for Covington.
There was no point attempting to get a trace on Jack’s phone, he would have tossed it by now. All along the way she thought about what she would say when she saw him next. What should have been a simple matter of negotiating with him had gone south real quick. She was going to play the daughter card but he’d hung up before she could use it as a means to lure him back. All phone calls to him after went unanswered.
She had called ahead to Covington police to have them meet her at the trailer park. This had been the first case where she didn’t feel safe. No matter how she reasoned things out in her mind, Jack was still a killer, even if he hadn’t shot at her. It’s not like she hadn’t considered what Detective Banfield or Theresa had said about Jack’s character. She’d seen many a person turn around from a lifestyle of criminal behavior but that didn’t give him a free pass. He still had to be held accountable.
As the GPS in her rental gave her the final turn, she pulled into the trailer park and found two cruisers waiting for her. The cops were talking with the owner of the park by the looks of it. He was pointing in a direction. When they saw her get out and flash her badge, they asked how they could help. She hadn’t asked them to go into the trailer. She wanted to be there in the event that Billy was inside.
The wind had picked up, and a light rain was coming down.
“I’ve never had a problem with him. He’s always paid on time. He has someone else staying there at the moment. Carla. No complaints from neighbors. I have to say this is a first for us,” the owner said. He was a tubby, partially bald man with hair that shot out the sides of his head like a clown. He was wearing a clean shirt, pants and polished shoes. For someone who owned a trailer park, he looked very professional. Though, what remained of his hair could have used some work.
Isabel showed the owner Jack’s mug shot and his eyes immediately lit up.
“Yeah. Yeah. He was here. I saw him with Carla for a while and then Billy’s daughter.”
“Where did he head off to?”
“I think he took her home. I’m not sure.”
Isabel approached the door, knocked a few times and stood off to one side. She had experienced her fair share of crazies who shot through the door at the first sign of police showing up. It didn’t matter if they were wanted or not. The general public freaked out at the sign of red and blue flashing lights.
There was no answer. She tried again. The other officers had their weapons drawn and were focusing on the windows. Isabel reached over and turned the knob on the door. It opened and she pulled it wide. A few seconds passed. She called out Jack’s name first. No answer. She followed up by asking for Carla or Billy. Still no reply. Cautiously she stepped up inside the trailer. Her heart was fluttering in her chest as she fully expected to be shot at. Instead she was met by an aroma of death.
Moving quickly through the trailer she made her way to the bedroom. Lying on the bed with a bullet in the head was a young woman. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-five years of age. She was partially dressed. On the side table was drug paraphernalia. Isabel called out to the one of the officers to bring in the owner of the trailer park.
A few seconds passed before he joined her inside. The moment he saw her he nearly threw up. “Oh god, that’s her. That’s Carla.” The officer led him out and Isabel came outside. Had Jack killed her?
“Tape it off and don’t let anyone inside,” she said. She took two officers with her to Theresa’s home. It was a short distance by car and they were there within five minutes. On the outside everything looked normal. No sign of entry. Her first concern was for the safety of the child. Theresa had said that her daughter was with Carla. There was no sign of her except a pink Hello Kitty bag laying on the floor inside the trailer.
One of the officers went around the back while the other one approached the main entrance. She repeated the same process of knocking and calling out for the resident to come out but there was no answer. Using the back of her weapon she broke the glass on the front door and reached inside to unlock it.
Glass crunched beneath her feet as she stepped in. It was dark inside. All the curtains had been drawn. Surprisingly the place was clean. It was clear to see that the home had a woman’s touch. The officers went down the corridor one way, while she went into the living room. One by one they cleared the rooms. There was no one there. She called out for Ruby, in the chance that she had hidden, but no sound was heard.
Outside she visited the neighbor’s homes to check if Ruby was staying with anyone else. No one had seen her and they hadn’t seen Billy since that morning.
That’s when she had the police run an Amber Alert. She wasn’t going to chase them all over Louisiana, and she didn’t give two hoots about what her boss had to say. She made sure it included details about Ruby being accompanied by Billy Dixon or Jack Winchester. Their mug shots would be shown beside hers. Beneath their faces it would say PERSON OF INTEREST.
Chapter 22
Twenty minutes away on the other side of the town, Jack burst through a door of an apartment block that Billy said belonged to a dealer that went by the name Leafy. Billy had made it clear that he didn’t open his door to anyone except those he trusted. Billy wasn’t one of them.
“How many will there be inside?”
“Three, maybe four tops. But
I’m telling yah, these guys don’t fuck around. One of them will phone Tex’s men while the others are putting lead in you.”
As the door slammed against the wall, the first guy who came into view was wearing nothing more than a pair of boxer shorts and a string vest. His eyes lit up with pure panic as Jack charged in with his Glock aimed at his head. He threw his hands up and backed up against the wall. Jack grabbed him by the neck and shoved him into a living room. The place was in a filthy state; beer bottles, cigarettes and bags of meth all over the table. One black dude was lying down with a naked girl on top of him when they came into the room. Jack’s eyes darted around the room assessing the situation. One on the couch and another sprawled out with a needle in his arm. The door to the bedroom opened up. He didn’t have a choice, the guy had a shotgun in hand. Jack tried to give him a warning but he was wired, jacked up on meth or some shit as he raised the shotgun up. Jack tossed the scrawny fella in front of him and he received the full force of the shot giving Jack enough time to fire a round into the shooter. Meanwhile Billy was wheeling his gun around the room at the two other men.
“That’s my shit.”
Billy picked up a bag and looked it over.
“Where did you get this?”
A large guy who probably was meant to be the muscle of the group but was as slow as a snail replied. “Ronny dropped it off. He told us there was more where that came from and if we wanted to buy, they were now in the market.”
“Ronny?”
“Who is he?” Jack asked.
“He’s a new cook in town.”
“Was.”
The guy eyed his other pal nervously.
“Did he give you an address, a number?” Jack asked.
The fat guy with his hands still up pointed to his phone on the table. “I have his digits in there.”
Billy motioned to him to phone him. “You even give him the slightest inclination that there is trouble, I will redecorate this room with your insides. You understand?”
Jack wasn’t impressed by Billy’s macho shit but as long as it got them what they needed and put an end to this, that’s all he was bothered about.
“What about Tex?”
The guy had his hand on the phone. “I don’t have his number.”
“Bullshit,” Billy said. “One of you does.”
The black guy pointed to the one who was writhing around on the floor with a bullet in his leg. “Tommy has it. But he won’t give it up. Tex will kill us if he finds out.”
Jack went over to the guy who tried to shuffle back. Jack tried the straightforward approach. “You wanna tell us where he is?”
“Fuck you.”
He tried going for the shotgun again, so Jack kicked him in the face.
“Let’s try that again.”
“I’m not giving you assholes anything.”
Jack looked back at Billy briefly before stepping on the guy’s injured leg. The guy screamed in pain for a minute until Jack released the pressure. “Now I don’t have all day.”
“He will kill me if I give it out.”
Jack stepped on his leg again, crouched down and took a hold of the guy’s ear, giving it a little twist in the process. “No, he won’t as you’ll already be dead.”
The guy’s pupils were dilated. He was as high as a kite. He looked as if he had been up several days. Meth did that. It would make them feel invincible until they crashed. Most addicts would go on benders for days, commit most of their crimes in that time and then spend the next day or two shaking until they got their next hit. It was a wicked cycle that never let up until it spat you out.
“Okay, I’ll get it for you.”
The scrawny little punk got up and dragged his bleeding leg across the room to a set of drawers. He pulled the top one out and started tossing a whole bunch of papers all over the floor. He then went into the next drawer and did the same, however this time he pulled a gun. Jack reacted before he had a chance to fire it. One bullet in the head and it was over.
“You idiot!” Billy said, rushing over and bouncing up and down a bit.
“He didn’t have it.”
“How do you know?”
“Trust me. In my line of work, you can tell when someone is just trying to buy themselves some time.”
They were about to turn their attention back to the other guys when they noticed the black guy had made a dash for it. The large guy, knowing he wasn’t getting out of this alive, chose a different route. The other one had got up and was close to the window when Billy turned the gun on him.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said.
“Where do you meet Tex?”
“Fuck you. I’m not telling you anything.”
Jack went over and gave him a few slaps around the head.
“You think for one minute that any one of us are going to sign our own death warrant?”
Jack had to admit; he’d seen mob bosses use intimidation to keep men loyal. Fear was a good motivator. Gafino had it down to a fine art. Rarely ever would someone think of squealing on him. It wasn’t death they feared. It was what would happen before death gave them peace. No doubt Tex had made quite the impression on these guys. If Billy’s story about the alligator was true, then what came next was to be expected.
“You are going…”
Before Billy could finish what he was saying, the fat guy launched himself through a closed window. They were ten stories up. After the sound of glass shattering came the thud of a body hitting the roof of a car and setting off a car alarm that startled them. Billy raced to the window and looked out before slipping back inside. “Holy shit.”
As surprising as it was to Billy, Jack had seen it many times before. Those he’d been sent to collect on sometimes chose to fall to their death rather than face the unexpected. They knew they would die, but this way they determined how they went.
“Get his phone, let’s go find Ronny.”
“The guy just launched himself out the window,” Billy stammered.
“Even more reason to hurry.”
Billy raised both hands and shrugged as if he couldn’t wrap his head around it. Jack wasn’t in the mood for anyone slowing him down. He went over and grabbed him by the back of the neck.
“If you don’t pull shit together, you are going out the window.”
Billy swallowed hard and scooped up the phone on the table. He flipped through it until he found Ronny’s number. They could hear sirens in the distance.
“Just take it with you. We’ve got to get out of here.”
Chapter 23
Charley “Tex” Wilson was sitting in the back yard of his home watching his kid celebrate his sixth birthday. Beside him were two hulking men that he employed for protection. He never went anywhere without them. For over twenty years he had worked his way to establish himself as the main distributor for meth in Louisiana. Unlike those he once worked for, he wasn’t afraid to get his hands covered in blood. It’s what kept his men loyal. He let them see his murderous acts. He made a spectacle out of those who challenged his authority. It was the only way to keep those around him in line.
The meth business was booming even though the DEA and local police were constantly breathing down his neck, raiding his labs and hauling away mammoth amounts of money. It came with the territory.
He didn’t want to remain in the business for long. With every year that passed, new gangs were trying to move in and take a piece of what was his. He looked over at Kalen, his eldest. Twenty-four and still learning the ropes, Tex had done everything within his power to ensure that his son could carry on the business after he pulled out, but now he was starting to think that it was too risky even for his own flesh and blood.
Francis, his bodyguard, came over and whispered in his ear that he had a phone call. He thanked him and took a few seconds to excuse himself from the party. His wife, Gillian, looked at him to once again show her disgust. She was a good woman and was one of the many reasons why he wanted to get out of th
e business. He’d been with her since he was seventeen. She had seen his rise and seen him come close to losing everything. If it hadn’t been for her constant badgering, he might not have considered a future beyond selling drugs.
Back when he was young, everything had been low-key. He was one of many distributors, much like Billy. He had done his time dealing on the streets, been through the period of hiring others to do his dirty work until he saw the opportunity to branch out on his own. Back then as long as a person wasn’t doing over a hundred grand a month, those he worked for didn’t bat an eye. They were too busy making money.
Once Tex took the place of the guy who had originally hired him as a distributor, things moved quickly. He soon found the quickest way to earn more money without the risk was not to bring in more drugs. It was to manage the drug dealers who were already selling meth. The homegrown operations that barely brought in twenty grand a week were usually run by some punk who thought he could make a fast buck using the simple shake and bake method of producing meth. It worked. Except they weren’t accountable to anyone until Tex came along. That’s what made him different from his previous bosses. He wasn’t interested in making large deals which could turn bad fast. No, it was much easier to bang on the doors of known small-time dealers and get them paying him seventy-five percent of all of their business. Within a matter of two years he brought in more than his bosses had in five years in business. He also didn’t have to deal with the cops busting him. They were the ones at risk, not him.
It was a win-win situation. He supplied local dealers with pseudoephedrine, which meant they didn’t have to go into drugstores. In return they gave him the largest percentage of profits. There wasn’t one dealer who couldn’t see this as a good thing. Up until that point the cops were nabbing small-time meth dealers by catching them after they left drugstores. Now they didn’t need to go into stores. They just came to him. He’d worked out a lucrative deal with the Mexicans to bring in large amounts of pseudoephedrine using the same connections that his previous bosses had used.
