by Blou Bryant
“Hi, I’m the new head of this HUC. Trix Greenswallow,” she said. “I’ve replaced Mr. Rankin. These two men,” she pointed to Brad and Randy, “Can testify that Shazam, here” she pointed, “Helped a cop kill Rankin.”
“Can you?”
Shazam protested, “It’s all lies, they did it. I’m just a poor cripple in a wheelchair.” Both Randy and Brad glared at him as he threw them under the bus.
Trix ignored him. “He’s not really to blame, he’ll testify for you as well. Abused as a kid, the usual.”
“Uh-huh?”
“Take that baton he’s holding, test it. You’ll find blood on it. And I bet that Randy or Brad can take you to where they dumped the body. Can’t you boys?” she asked. After Shazam’s betrayal, both appeared happy to help out, nodding quickly.
Vincent looked dubious. “I bet you have a lot of witnesses, don’t you? Exactly as many as I need?”
With a broad smile, she said, “Name your number, we’ll give it to you.”
Wyatt stood by, silent. This wasn’t planned. Brad and Randy had been part of the murder, according to the twins. And Vincent’s partner had nothing to do with it.
Vincent appeared to know this. He took Wyatt by the arm and the two walked a few feet away. Alone, he asked, “Is this on the level?”
Wyatt didn’t want to lie. “Mostly?”
Vincent stared at him, waiting for more.
“From what I heard, your partner didn’t kill him, but watched it and did nothing. He definitely works for the drug dealers.”
The officer stared at Wyatt, measuring him, evaluating if he could be trusted. After a long five seconds, he sighed and said, “Well, good enough, I suppose.” He yelled to the two officers across the street. “Get the guy in the wheelchair. And take the names of the two big ones next to him. Check their ID.”
“Thanks,” said Wyatt. “Did you do the other thing?”
“Jamming all calls and internet? Hell ya, we do that automatically now. No cells working within a quarter mile.”
“Perfect,” said Wyatt. Almost perfect. Timo was only feet away, and had been quiet the entire time. Quiet, but sweating and looking worried as all hell. Wyatt now was positive it was him who had betrayed the Dogs.
Chapter 29
Minutes later, one of the two officers had Shazam in the back of his car and was attempting to figure out how to get the wheelchair in the trunk. The two others were ushering people back into the house and Vincent was interviewing Randy and Brad. Trix was under the large elm on the front lawn, talking to some gangbangers.
Wyatt was alone with Timo, who was sweating and flush. “Exciting, right?”
With a weak smile, Timo nodded, “Ya, I guess so. But I’m confused. I thought we were here to pick up the twins. What’s all this about?”
“It’ll be clear soon.” Wyatt waved Trix over. “Bring a couple friends,” he yelled.
She shook her head and beaconed them to join her. Damn she was headstrong, did I really agree to a date, wondered Wyatt, but he didn’t argue and walked over, a hand on Timo’s arm, gently ensuring he came along as well.
Trix had a self-satisfied look on her face. “This was exciting, I like working with you,” she said.
“It was more exciting than I wanted it to be. I worried when I got here and didn’t see the twins; where are they?”
“We decided it’d be best if they stayed out of sight, and if I handled it. They’re hanging around somewhere.
That settled, he could finish his work here and move on. “Hey, Timo,” he said, “Who were you talking to earlier?”
“Huh?”
“You remember; when the guards pulled guns on us?”
Timo didn’t reply and his face flushed. With a glance to the left and another to his right, he seemed ready to escape.
Wyatt was about to grab the traitor when Trix stepped forward. “You’re Timo? Nice to meet ya.” She extended her hand.
Timo looked at it for a moment, then at the road. He was sweating so profusely that Wyatt was sure he knew that he’d been found out. Finally, he extended his hand and shook hers. She didn’t let go.
He pulled back and she held firm. “You want to go somewhere?”
“Let me go. Wyatt, tell her to let me go,” he pleaded.
Trix simply smiled. “I know you’re working for them.”
Wyatt wasn’t sure if he or Timo was more surprised at that.
“What do you want me to do with him?”
Wyatt recovered quickly. “Take him and hold him for a day. But do it quietly, I don’t want the police involved with him yet.”
“With pleasure,” she said and Timo faded. Wyatt heard gasps from her men and could see shock on her face. Taking advantage of the momentary surprise, Timo twisted out of the hold on his arm and fully disappeared.
“Get…” Wyatt said and stopped as Ira dropped to the ground in front of him. She’d been in the tree, above them.
“Hi, Wyatt.”
He was about to reply when Ari landed to his right.
“This way,” she said and darted to the left.
Ira winked at Wyatt. “Back soon,” she said and ran after Ari.
About twenty feet away, Ari stopped and stretched her arms out. “Hi, Timo. I can sense you.”
Ira was five feet away from her, arms out. “Sis, I can sense him too.” She kicked out, and a cry indicated she’d connected with Timo.
Ari smiled, took two steps and kneeled down, it looked like she was hovering over the ground. A moan made it clear she had Timo under her. “Go visible,” she said.
When he didn’t comply, she punched down once, connecting a foot above the ground. There was an ‘oomph’ and Timo faded into view. Ari was holding him by the neck. “You wanted him?” she asked Wyatt with a big grin.
“Great job, yes, give him to Trix. Well done guys,” Wyatt said.
“You too. Good…”
“… plan, and…” said Ira.
“… lots of fun. How’d…” said Ari.
“… you figure it out?” asked Ira.
“Sandra said that it seemed like Jessica was always a step ahead. And then… Crigg’s, the big dealer, he said he had inside information. I was pretty sure it was Timo when he volunteered to join me—Jessica’s plant would want to follow me around. How’d you figure it out?”
“Ira could sense something…”
“I just didn’t know what it was…”
“But she guessed too…”
Trix strode over, picked Timo up with one hand and passed him to two of her guys. “So, we’ll be talking about that later?”
“What?”
With an iron stare, she didn’t bother replying. That was fair, Wyatt thought, she’d just seen someone disappear in front her. “Yes, we’ll talk later.”
Satisfied, she said, “Fine, I can wait, but tell me, is there anything else I need to know? He’s not a mutant frog, or able to shoot laser beams out his eyes?”
Wyatt laughed. “No, nothing other than fading into the background.”
Timo struggled but couldn’t free himself. “They have me, his plan is all a lie, they have me,” he said.
Wyatt walked up to him. “Nobody’s listening.” Wyatt knew that the police were jamming transmissions—it was part of the reason he’d wanted Vincent there. To the two men holding Timo, he said, “Search him. He’s got a transmitter somewhere on him, an open line to the woman the other dealers are working for.”
As they enthusiastically tore his clothing apart, Wyatt turned to Trix. “He works for Jessica Golde. The drug gang that’s been taking over, they work for her. So did Shazam, for a couple days at least. We’re taking them out, tonight.”
“And her?”
“She’s too protected. Too connected. That’s why I had to do this the way I did.”
Trix pulled out a small slip. “A note on toilet paper?” She laughed.
He shrugged. “It worked. Thanks to you two,” he said, with a look at Ira a
nd Ari.
Trix unfolded it and read it out, “Get Trix. Will take HUC at 10:30, give to her. Promise one million $. Will arrest Shaz, new dealers for murder.”
He pulled his phone out and checked the time – ten-fifty-eight. “Can I explain later? Jessica is off balance, but won’t be for long. She expects us to come for her soon, and she’s probably prepared, but with Timo no longer feeding her information, it won’t be long before Joe and her figure out what’s going on.”
“Joe?” asked Trix.
“As I said, I’ll explain later. Right now, I need to go after the dealers and rescue some friends. And I need some help.”
“Dally!” she yelled out and the scruffy dealer ran over. They’re going after the guys dealing Nytro. Want in?”
“Absolutely!” he said. A switchblade appeared, and he grinned. “Point me at them.”
“What do you need?” she asked Wyatt.
“No killing. I need you to give us a distraction or three. Can you do that? Keep the police busy for a couple hours, make sure that our attack on the house isn’t interrupted?”
“I’ve got work to do here, but Dally can help you. What about Timo?”
“Bring him into the house, get rid of all his clothing, take them, burn them—Jessica likely put a couple bugs on him.”
Dally and Trix stood ready, waiting for his plan. Beside him were Ira and Ari. Wyatt took a deep breath and gave them the second address that Seymour had provided him. “At eleven-thirty, I need police busy around the city so they don’t get in the way when we raid it.”
“What’s there?” asked Dally.
“It’s where the drug dealers sleep. It’s where they wake up, it’s where they spend most of their time. That’s all I know.”
“Ya, but is it a house? An apartment?” asked Dally.
“I… well, I have no idea. I’ll find out when I get there. Can you make sure nobody but us gets in, for an hour, no more?”
“Hell ya, we’ll close it down but don’t you need muscle? We’ll take the place for you, if you want,” he said with a broad, gap-toothed smile, pulling his shirt back to reveal a large gun.
“No, the Dogs will take them out. Just make sure we’re not interrupted.”
“Oh, I can do that,” the man said and ran back to his crew, yelling instructions. “We’re heading out, I need cell access,” he yelled back to them. “See you at the party.”
Wyatt turned to Trix. “You got Timo, keep him, we’ll pick him up later. Make sure he doesn’t get access to a phone.”
“Sorry that I can’t come.”
Wyatt shook his head. “Don’t be, you’ve got a new job. Taking care of your people,” he said.
“Sure thing, but don’t you forget the date. And don’t get any scratches on that pretty body of yours. Leave that to me,” she cackled.
Wyatt blanched and then blushed. Perhaps it’d be better if he got shot, he thought as he walked away, Ari and Ira with him. Vincent had finished up with one of the other officers and came over to where Wyatt was waiting for him. “What’s next?” he asked. “You mentioned drugs too, are they inside?”
“Maybe, might be some. But this isn’t the place I meant.”
“No? That wasn’t clear, but I suppose toilet paper isn’t the best medium for giving a message,” he replied as he fished a small piece of paper out of his pocket. He read it out. “Can’t talk. Everything monitored by phone. Your partner murderer & drug dealer. Can prove. Be at Wellmont HUC @ 10:30 w/few cops you trust. Bring jammer. No violence, just proof. If not, I die.” Vincent gave Wyatt a half smile. “A bit over the top… ‘I die’?”
“Well, it got you here, didn’t it?”
“I suppose. How’d you know I’d show?”
“You hate your partner, that’s pretty clear. And I suspect, under the drunk asshole exterior, you’re a good cop.”
The man laughed, his belly and man-boobs jiggled. “Really? You’re the only one who’d say that. How do you figure?”
“You’re bitter, angry and you don’t care what people think. Means you haven’t given up. If you had, you’d go through each day just thinkin about pensionable time; you’d not let stuff affect you. Instead, everything bothers you, that means you give a shit. Am I right?”
“I’m here,” the man mumbled. “I suppose…” he trailed off. “So, the drugs?”
“We gotta go for another ride. And you’ll need more officers, clean ones.”
“Keep going…”
“That’s about it. We’ll have between four and eight people for you to arrest. And a lot of drugs and money. At least, I think so. It might be a wild goose chase…” Wyatt said, hesitantly. Not for the first time, he wondered how good Seymour’s software was. He checked the phone. It was eleven-eleven. “We gotta go,” he said, dropped the phone to the ground, and smashed it underfoot. No more information for Jessica, no more misdirection was needed. It wouldn’t likely work now anyhow.
Wyatt beckoned to the twins and turned back to Vincent, “How about it? Are you up for more? Might get a commendation or promotion out of this.”
Vincent shook his head with a smirk. “You’re really clueless,” he said but waved them to follow him to his car.
Chapter 30
Vincent drove above the limit, which was fine for Wyatt. Time was short. “So,” the older man said, “Are you gonna tell me who you are?”
Wyatt shrugged. “I’m nobody. I’m just a guy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
With a laugh, Vincent passed a yellow light that went red well before he was all the way through. Someone honked and he gave them the finger. “I’m a cop,” he yelled out his open window. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, both hands off the wheel.
“Do you mind?” asked Ira.
“… that’s gross,” finished Ari.
“Nope, don’t mind at all,” he said, took a deep pull and blew it through the car. The girls coughed and rolled down their windows.
“Wow, what a piece of work.”
“Where’d you find it?”
Vincent blew a kiss at the rearview window. “Hey, be happy that I’m only half in the tank. Not bad for after eleven. So,” he said to Wyatt, “A nobody with a drug gang after him.”
“Something like that,” Wyatt said and leaned his head out of his own already-opened window. He’d rolled it down the moment they’d got in. The car smelled like dirty socks and rotting burritos.
Two blocks later, they slowed, and were eventually stopped by a traffic jam. Vincent flicked a switch and a red light on his dash came to life. He took the car into the opposite lane and passed eight or nine vehicles before arriving at the obstruction. Two cars had lightly collided and there were several people yelling at each other. He stopped the car in the middle of the road and walked up.
Wyatt joined him. “We can’t waste time on this, go around,” he said. Damn it, “Let’s find another way.”
Vincent flashed a badge, his cigarette firmly planted between his lips. “Move it, get these rust heaps off the road.”
“Officer,” said one, “These guys made an illegal turn, you should arrest their asses. I’m hurt, got the whiplash.
“No way, I think he’s on drugs,” said another, a girl with a hard edge to her.
“Bullshit,” said a third and gave the first one a hard shove.
Vincent looked like he was ready to crack skulls. Wyatt got in front of him and put a hand up. “No, we have to be there on time. My friends will be there; they have no clue what they’re getting into.”
The second guy looked at him and pointed. What now, wondered Wyatt. He put his fists up, ready to fight.
The man wore a stained white sleeveless T-shirt, track pants, and what were likely five hundred dollar running shoes. He had gold fronts on his teeth and tattoos up and down his arms. His styled blond hair flopped back and forth as he suddenly smiled and jumped up and down. “It’s that guy!” he said, pointing at Wyatt.
“What guy?” asked the
second.
“The guy, it’s… what’s his name? Winet.”
“Wyatt?”
“Ya, from the HUC. It’s the man himself.”
“No way,” said a third, a muscle-bound bruiser, looking at Wyatt with doubt. “That guy took out a crew all by himself?”
“Ya, and he’s loaded. Tossed around money like it was candy.”
“You’re popular and they gotta be stoned,” said Vincent. The twins, who had joined them, laughed. Wyatt took a step back; he wasn’t sure where this was going.
The first guy, the one who’d been ‘hurt’ in the accident, ran forward. “I’m Ahmed,” he said and gave Wyatt an awkward fist-pump, which he finished with a slammed half-hug. “Man, why didn’t you say it be you. What’d ya need?”
Wyatt looked to Vincent, who shrugged. “You’re the man, not me,” he said with a low chuckle.
Sometimes, Wyatt thought he was a genius. More and more, he was finding out that he wasn’t. This wasn’t a random accident. They were Dally’s people, and they were doing exactly what he’d wanted them to do—locking the area down. “Um, I gotta get up this street.”
“For you, no problem!” said Ahmed. “Hey,” he yelled to the rest. “Roll that sucker out of the way, the man needs through. Move it, you lazy motherless donkeys.”
Wyatt watched as they rolled the second car out of the way. Someone honked behind them and Vincent flashed his badge. “Take a detour!” he yelled and pointed up a side street. “This one’s closed.”
“But they’re blocking everyone,” said Wyatt.
“Yup, for blocks around the house. Ain’t nobody getting in,” said the one with gold fronts. He wrapped an arm around Wyatt, smiled broadly, and snapped a selfie with him. This done, he said, “Nobody in, nobody out. Not unless the man says. Cops be okay with that?”
“Fine by me,” said Vincent. “I’m not traffic patrol.”
Wyatt turned to leave and remembered, “I got friends coming.”
The guy with fronts pulled out a phone, dialed and asked Wyatt, “Who, what’s their ride?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Sandra, Rocky, that’s their names.”
