Chapter 17
Joe McKinney looked out of the apartment window down into the parking lot, not looking at anything in particular. It was another hot, humid central Florida day. The sun gleaming off the pavement hurt his eyes and he had to squint to see clearly. The only blessings on days like today were air conditioning and swimming pools. He caught a glimpse of a young woman heading towards the pool in a tiny bikini with a towel, suntan lotion, and a can of some kind of cold drink. Lisa Goddard was her name. She worked at the Publix Grocery Store in the plaza down the street. At 21 years old, 105 pounds, tan, 5"2" tall, 35-22-36, she drew many stares; like the one Joe was giving her now. He’d never talked to her before but had thought many times about it. He’d thought about asking her out, but he didn't want to drag anyone into a relationship right now. At least not until this business with his brother, Patrick was finished. Trying to have an honest relationship with a woman was tough enough, but carrying excess baggage into it was like fighting a heavyweight contender with one hand tied behind your back.
Joe couldn't see how Patrick could handle the stress. Living two lives; one with a wife and two children and starting a new business; the other, an assassin, hiding every move from the family you love, from close friends, and from the law. Joe shook his head at the mere thought. He wondered if Patrick really was handling the stress as well as he appeared to be.
Finally, Lisa "the goddess" Goddard was out of his sight behind the privacy fence. Joe's thoughts turned towards what he would do if he were totally free to choose what he wanted to do. He had plenty of money. The money that they’d made in the dope trade was laundered and was now invested in legitimate holdings like stocks, bonds and some real estate. The blind trust where their money was invested produced over $395,000 per year. The principle was still growing. Joe’s draw was $125,000 per year. Pat and Mike each drew an equal cut. It was totally clean money, taxed by all levels of government. The trust was being managed by an attorney that Pat knew. He was a former small time customer of theirs. He now specialized in securities and exchange law. He showed the McKinney's some great things about money; like how it could be hidden, used as collateral, laundered, and kept squeaky clean. All without having the real owners name attached. He helped the brothers make the right move to preserve their cash and make significant income in the process. So Joe didn’t have to do an honest day’s work for the rest of his life if he so chose. He did have a job to do though. The more he knew about this job, the more it scared him.
The plan had gone well so far. The plan, which Pat and Joe wrote out years ago, was not written down anywhere now, but they both knew it by heart. The small details of each person's part of the plan were not known to each other. Only the outline and the timetable were important to be known by both of them. That way if one of the brothers was caught, the other was relatively safe. No specific details could be collaborated. Patrick knew more of the details than Joe, but he still insisted that Joe carry out his part independent from anything that Patrick did. The original plan had been burned in a fire in their orange grove, the ashes scattered and buried in the sandy floor. They made sure that not a trace of the plan could be reconstructed.
Basically, Joe did the preliminary investigative work; followed subjects to get information on their habits and routines, note any deviations, and see if specific schedules existed. Danny Vallero was pretty easy even though he didn't have a regular job. He always went out in the evening on weekends and usually came home with his conquest for the night by 1:00 AM. About 30% of the time, he didn't score and came home alone. When he came home alone, he would pour himself a drink, shoot up his smack fix, and plug in a skin flick and pass out in front of his unlocked screen door after about twenty minutes. Sometime around 5:00 AM he would wake up, lock his front door, stagger to his bedroom, and pass out again. He was very consistent. Bingo. Joe’s job was done. He passed this information to Pat along with the most current information on the other subjects. Pat’s job was to pick the dates and times for the actual hits. Joe’s was then to run interference. During the Vallero hit, Joe took a trip up to Leesburg, Florida and "accidentally" left one of Patrick's gas credit cards at the gas station, making sure the attendant got a good look at him. Joe and Patrick looked so much alike that it would be hard to tell them apart, especially in a court room. After getting gas, Joe drove up to Jacksonville and checked into the hotel, again using one of Patrick's credit cards. The shoot took place, but Patrick couldn't have done it. He was on his way to Jacksonville to attend a seminar on low level radioactive waste storage.
Patrick did in fact attend that seminar. He just arrived at Jacksonville at 4:30 AM, not 11:30 PM like the hotel log said. But logs don't lie.
The next subject should be relatively easy, too Joe thought to himself. Just as he was thinking this, he saw Patrick's Ford Taurus pull into the apartment complex parking lot. Patrick got out, grinned towards Joe in the window and made the ascent to the second story apartment.
* * *
Jamie Watkins was still fuming. He thought Mr. Roberts was way out of line calling him on the carpet like that. How much money had he brought in for this organization anyway? Millions over the years. "For over five years I've put my heart and soul into this organization, and this is the thanks that I get! I bet that Phil Daniels had something to do with this. He's been trying to fuck me over for quite a while now. Well he'll get his own taste of this shit when I'm through."
Jamie was literally screaming at Donnie Lee Lester and Bobby Acquino. They were trying to look interested, but for the last three weeks, every time they'd seen Jamie, he was barking like this. Finally Bobby had had enough.
"Jamie, shut the hell up!"
Jamie stopped in mid-scream. Donnie Lee turned and stared at Bobby for a moment, then said jokingly, "Looks like its ten Hail Mary's and an Act of Contrition for you, pal."
"That's not funny," Bobby retorted. "I'm sick of Jamie's constant bitching and whining. He's got every expensive toy in the world and enough money to run a small country. He's whining because the guy that makes it possible tells him to keep his dick in his pants and his mouth shut before he gets us all killed or thrown in jail. I have a brother who's in prison and I don't plan on joining him.” He turned to Jamie and yelled, “If you would think for a minute instead of constantly spouting off, you’d realize that Mr. Roberts is just trying to protect you from yourself." Bobby’s voice became calm, but strained, "Mr. Roberts just wants you to get your head back on straight. You're a loose cannon right now and he wants us to keep our shit together. You know that the Vallero thing rattled him a little. Just quiet down in public a little bit."
"Is that all, Bobby?" Jamie's voice oozed with sarcasm. "Well then, I guess I was just over-reacting. I should bow down and kiss ole Mr. Roberts right square in the middle of his white ass. Well I'll tell both of you a piece of news; Jamie Watkins don't kiss no-one’s ass! Not Mr. Roberts'! Not Phil Daniels! And neither one of yours! So go fuck yourselves! Don't ever try to tell me what to do! Now get the fuck outta here!" Jamie waved his arms towards the door, his face red as a beat, and veins throbbing at his temples.
Donnie Lee and Bobby turned and walked out the door of Jamie's house in Ocoee and got into Donnie Lee's four x four pick-up. They looked at each other in amazement for a few moments. Donnie Lee then started his truck and pulled out of the long driveway.
Donnie Lee didn't know what to think. His mind raced. He thought back, trying to remember Jamie going berserk like that before. Jamie had done some nutty things. He'd cut his coke with anything he could to make extra cash. He’d taken on two women at once and bragged all over town about it. He’d even insulted Buddy Mahaffey to his face and lived to tell about it. He'd done a lot of crazy things, but Donnie had never seen him go so completely off the deep end like this. It scared him. After a couple of minutes all Donnie Lee could muster was, "Wow, is he ever out of control.”
Bobby didn't reply. He just stared ahead at the road and mentally replayed the whole inci
dent. He had just made up his mind that he was going to leave the organization. The only trick was how to tell Mr. Roberts. Bobby had to devise a plan. You don't usually leave an organization like this. Not alive anyway.
Chapter 18
Ginny Parks had enjoyed her summer break. Her trip to Ohio had gone well. Her ex-fiancé had a new girlfriend which made their brief encounter easy compared with what she'd expected. She was prepared for a knock-down drag-out fight with him over getting back together. The brief discussion, though somewhat awkward, was cordial, polite, and almost pleasant. They both knew it was over and level heads prevailed.
Now she was back in Florida looking forward to school and seeing Brian in concert. Brian's contract signing ceremony was early next week for his band "Brian Purcer and the Hot Licks." Brian wanted the name shortened to the "Hot Licks" but the record company representative said that was out of the question. "You are the band, Brian." The guys in the band had to agree, without Brian, they didn't have a chance at the big time. He wrote all of the songs, though Rick Wessler added his two cents worth to the lyrics on occasion. But Brian put the arrangements together and made most of the improvements to the songs when things didn’t fit together right.
Ginny and Brian had been dating for three weeks and were hitting it off well. The separation for Ginny's Ohio trip was painful for both of them, but they survived. Since the Danny Vallero episode, things seemed to be falling into place almost like clockwork. Ginny's total outlook on life was improved. It took about two weeks for her to completely get over Danny's death, but with Brian's help, she managed to gain some genuine perspective. She knew now that the shooting wasn't her fault and no one around her was involved. Brian had explained how he and Danny knew each other and just what kind of complete jerk Danny was; a doper, a womanizer, and a self-centered ass. Brian explained that Danny thought he was a powerful individual with influence over everyone he met, particularly women. He told her how much he loathed Danny and was not surprised or saddened when he was killed. He also assured her that he was not the only one who felt that way about Danny.
Ginny wasn't sure that she was completely in love with Brian, but she was certain that she could fall anytime. There were some exciting, but unknown things in Brian's immediate future. There was no doubt that Brian could be an extremely wealthy man, but she didn't know him well enough to know how it would affect him. He could leave her flat on the way to his first promotional tour which was rumored to be in about two months. Besides, he hadn't asked her to even be his steady girlfriend or even a close friend. She wasn't sure what she would say if he asked her to be his girl. Life on the road must be extremely difficult. What about school? What about my nursing career? Her mind raced. She broke out of her trance when she heard "Cripple Creek" by "The Band" on the classic rock station on the radio. I must be crazy to even think about the possibility of going on the road. Brian is about to be a big time star. Will he even remember me after his tour? Ginny's mind wandered again as Loggins and Messina belted out Angry Eyes over the FM airwaves. The phone rang.
She answered, "Hello."
"Hi, Ginny."
"Brian, how are you doing? I missed you."
"I missed you, too. How was your trip?" Brian was a bit nervous as he waited for the description of Ginny's trip to Ohio and to an encounter with her ex-boyfriend. He was encouraged by the fact that she came back to Florida. He feared that her ex would convince her to stay up north and get back together with him. This wouldn't do because Brian had decided that Ginny Parks was the girl for him. He wanted her all to himself. He was afraid that she might not want to get hung up on a guy that was on the verge of being a road whore. He didn't even know what was in store for life on the road. How could he expect her to leave school and abandon a career that she didn't even have yet?
"It went just fine. I saw Tom at a bar in Avon. We talked for a few minutes. He has a new girlfriend and seems very content." Ginny hesitated then teased, "Why, were you worried that I wouldn't come back?"
Brian got very serious and simply said, "Yes, I was."
Ginny's heart began to beat very quickly and she smiled. She could feel herself falling for this guy like a ton of bricks.
"Brian, would you like to come over tonight? I'll fix dinner. How about lasagna? I'm not Italian, but my step-grandmother was. That's how she captured my Grand-dad's heart, through his stomach. Anyway, she gave my mom and me this great recipe and it only takes a few . . ."
Brian cut her off. "Ginny, I'd love to come over. I'll bring a bottle of White Zinfandel and some Italian bread. I'll see you in a couple of hours."
Her heart beat even faster. "Okay. See you then. Bye." She smiled to herself and twirled her shoulder length hair like a sophomore in high school awaiting her first date.
"Bye, Ginny. Oh and Ginny, I'm glad your back. I really missed you." The phones had a distinct pause before being placed back on their respective cradles. In that short instant, Ginny Parks had made up her mind. If Brian Purcer asked her, she would drop everything that she had worked on for the last few years and follow him to the ends of the earth.
Brian smiled at the receiver as he placed it back on the cradle. He was head over heels for Ginny. His confidence in his own abilities and his chances for success were growing. His love for Ginny Parks was growing faster.
* * *
"It looks like we're ready, Joe. You're confident that you'll be able to get the timing right on this one?" Patrick knew the answer. He just wanted to see if Joe was still in it for the duration. Since the Vallero hit, they both knew that the plan was real. There was no turning back.
"It'll be right. This one's easy. Don't get cocky, though." Joe didn't mind the test. He knew that Patrick had to be extremely cautious. They'd talked about getting even with these bastards for months before formulating the plan. The plan only took about five hours to put together but there were details that had changed over time. This was particularly true after Joe spent time in the Marines learning warfare tactics. This newly learned skill was particularly useful in making adjustments to the original plan. It would only take about a week before the plan was completed. Joe could finally see some light at the end of the tunnel. Once the plan was complete, he could get back to living his life the way he wanted. But for now, the plan had to be executed to perfection. It consumed all of his waking hours. He definitely had a future as a private investigator if he was so inclined.
Patrick nodded. "Okay, then. I'll talk to you in a few days." Pat stood, put his hand on Joe's shoulder and said, "You're doing a great job. It won't be long now, and we'll be free of this. The slate will be clean."
Joe continued to stare at the carpeting. "Pat, do you ever wish that Mike had stayed with us on this?" Mike McKinney had listened to the plan early on, when it was no more than idle talk. When the talk started to get serious, Mike declined to join in and advised Pat and Joe not to talk about it in front of him. It was obvious to his brothers that he had no stomach for getting even with the people who had wronged them. It was fine with Pat, but Joe seemed to take exception to Mike's bowing out. Joe asked him how he could let these scum get away with what they'd done. Mike just turned to his brother and said, "They aren't getting away with it. They will pay. They’ll have to answer to God."
Mike was seriously out of it. Since his wife’s murder, he was fully consumed by despair. Patrick could see that it wasn't in Mike's blood to get even. Some people break things in anger. Some plotted revenge. Still others handle it in a more personal and emotional way. Shortly after the details of the theft and the murder became known to the brothers, Mike sat down in front of Patrick and cried his eyes out.
"Mike never was with us on this, Joe. It's lucky for us that he isn't. He'd have broken down and run to the cops or his Priest by now."
"You're probably right. I just miss him. Maybe we can all go see him when this is done."
"Maybe." With that, Pat McKinney gave Joe's shoulder a comforting squeeze and left, closing the door behind him. Joe re
mained staring at the carpet. He wished the plan was completed and cursed Jamie Watkins, Donnie Lee Lester, Bobby Acquino, Randy Farley, and Bill Grimes. He also cursed the soul of Danny Vallero.
Chapter 19
The man who called himself Radar arrived at Randy Farley's apartment, parked the rental car, and surveyed the area. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The dimly lit parking lot was nearly full of cars. Most of the apartments were dark at 11:30 PM on a Friday night. Randy's apartment had a single light shining from the kitchen window. He donned his plastic gloves and picked up the bag containing two fifths of Jack Daniels. Randy wasn't home yet. Everything’s going according to plan so far. He exited the car and walked up the flight of steps to the second story apartment and let himself in using the stolen apartment key. He entered the apartment, re-locked the door, and made his way into the living room.
The apartment was a mess. Beer cans, dirty glasses, empty booze bottles, cigarette ashes and butts were everywhere. The room had the stench of acrid, stale smoke and old beer. This place hadn't been cleaned in quite some time. Radar wasn't sure why, but he was surprised by Randy’s total lack of class. He made his way down the hall passed the bathroom and looked into the unused bedroom. Randy used it for junk and dirty clothes. What a pig. This guy is really messed up. Finally he made his way to the master bedroom. At least there were no dirty clothes lying around. He staked out the room; a king sized bed, an old dresser with the mirror conveniently angled down towards the bed, and a night stand with a lamp on it. The dust on the dresser and night stand was thick. If he brings women home, either he leaves the lights off until morning or they're too drunk to care.
A Lifetime of Vengeance Page 12
