by C. M. Sutter
“Are they going to pose a problem for me?”
“I guarantee you they won’t. My go-to guys, Anthony and Antonio Pirelli, are with me. They’ll make sure the guests remain quiet.”
The man chuckled on the other end of the phone line. “How many vehicles do you have?”
“Two—a van and a small car.”
“Okay, I’ll move my cars out to the driveway. Both vehicles need to go in the garage. When should I expect you?”
“We’ll be there at nine o’clock. Oh, and can you order four large pepperoni pizzas and two loaves of garlic bread for delivery? I’ll pay you when we get there. Beer sounds good too.”
“Everything will be ready when you arrive.”
“Thanks, dude, and remember, tomorrow you’ll be a rich man.”
“Good, because I’m counting on it. I’ve put my freedom on the line for this payday.”
“Not a problem, and nobody can connect you to us, anyway. Your hands are clean. Hell, you can even keep that shitty job at Trident Armored Transport if you want. You’ll just be thirty thousand dollars richer, that’s all.” Carden ended the call and pocketed his phone. He took the path back to the van and climbed in behind the wheel. “Anthony, you can drive the car back to Milwaukee. Stay close behind me. We aren’t going to the apartment, we’re going to my old buddy Zack Kenny’s house instead.” Carden pulled out his phone again and clicked on Google Maps. He needed a good way to get there that didn’t involve interstates or well-traveled freeways. “Okay, it looks like we’re taking Highway 16 until it trails off, and then we’ll veer south. If I can find a less-used alternate route, I’ll take it. I don’t need you getting lost.”
Anthony opened the passenger door and got out. “I’ll be right behind you, boss.”
Carden watched over his shoulder as Anthony got into the driver’s seat of the Fiesta. He chuckled at the sight then turned to Antonio. “That can’t be comfortable. Weren’t your knees hitting the steering wheel?”
“Yeah, they were, and the seat was pushed back as far as it goes.”
Carden turned the key in the ignition and clicked on the fog lamps. He creeped along the gravel path and took his time as he made his way to the campground exit. He didn’t want to attract unnecessary attention to the vehicles. When he reached the blacktop, he turned southeast toward Milwaukee and clicked on the headlights. If everything went according to plan, they’d arrive at Zack’s house in ninety minutes.
“How much did you say the haul is worth, boss?” Antonio asked as he reclined the seat and got comfortable. He turned toward Carden with a wide smile then popped a handful of sunflower seeds in his mouth.
Carden did a double take. “Where’d you get those?”
“They’ve been in my pocket for a while.”
“Do you ever stop eating?”
“Not when you’re my size. I need a lot of food to look this good.”
Carden shrugged and continued talking. “I’m estimating there to be at least three million dollars’ worth of stones. When I browsed Rosemond’s store last month, they had quite the inventory building up. I imagine their intention was to fill every display case in their new digs. From the looks of it, that new building in Brookfield is twice the size of the downtown location.” Carden pointed his thumb over his shoulder.
Antonio looked back and shook his head. “She’s either sleeping or faking it, but no matter what, she can’t hear us with those earplugs jammed deep in her ears.”
Carden raised the volume on the radio and opened his window several inches. “Fencing the diamonds is going to reduce that number somewhat, but we’re going our separate ways after the hit. I’m getting rid of my take little by little so it doesn’t raise suspicion. Zack got his ten grand advance, and now we just owe him twenty more. After that, we’ll still net over half a million dollars each.”
Antonio jerked his head then opened the window and looked back. “What’s he doing?”
Carden peered out his side mirror and saw the headlights behind them flash on and off. “Son of a bitch, now what?” He clicked his blinker and turned down a secluded country road. He drove another mile before stopping.
Anthony pulled to the gravel shoulder ahead of him, backed up to the van’s front bumper, and killed the engine. He climbed out and walked back to the van.
Carden lowered the window even farther and stuck out his head. “What’s the problem?”
“I’m sick of this asshole kicking the hell out of the trunk, and I don’t fit in that vehicle. I feel like I’m driving a bumper car.”
Carden got out of the van and slammed the door so hard the window rattled. “Fine, I’ll take over, but first shut him up.”
“Gladly.” Anthony returned to the car, reached under the dash, and popped the trunk.
“Don’t overdo it, either. We need him tomorrow.” Carden climbed into the driver’s seat of the Fiesta and felt the car bounce several times. Muffled grunts and thuds sounded from the trunk area for a few seconds, then everything fell silent.
Anthony approached the driver’s side window. He rubbed his knuckles and grinned. “It’s all good, sir. I think he’ll be napping for a while.”
Carden jerked his head toward the van. “No more stops. Follow me and don’t lag behind. If you need to say something, use your phone, not your headlights.”
“Got it.”
Carden watched through the rearview mirror as Anthony walked to the van and climbed in behind the wheel. Satisfied for now, Carden started the car and checked the mirror one more time. The van’s headlights went on, and Anthony backed up. Gravel crunched under the Fiesta’s tires as Carden pulled out, turned around, and took to the road again. He adjusted the seat forward, tapped the radio buttons until he found a smooth jazz station, and continued the drive to Milwaukee for the next hour without interruption. He picked up his phone at 8:55 p.m. and thumbed the screen to his contact list. He tapped Zack’s name.
“We’ll be there in ten minutes. I had an unexpected disturbance to take care of earlier.”
“Not a problem. The garage door is open, so pull both vehicles inside. Close it behind you and come in through the mudroom. The pizzas are on the table.”
Chapter 53
“Where should we put them?” Carden asked as he pulled the handle and lowered the overhead.
Zack swiped the air as if to brush the comment away. He leaned against the mudroom’s doorframe, raised his brow, and stared at the trunk of the car. “You had to listen to that all the way here?”
Anthony chuckled. “Not all the way. I helped the agent with a much-needed nap about an hour back.”
Zack glanced at Carden and winked. “I take it that was the disturbance you mentioned?” He opened the van door and peeked in. “What about her?”
“She isn’t half as bad as her brother,” Antonio said. “We’ll keep them under control. Don’t worry.”
“Good, then let’s go inside. We’ll deal with them later.” Zack held the door open, and the three men entered the house ahead of him. “Sit down and take a load off. We’ll eat, and then you can tell me how tomorrow is going to play out. Anthony and Antonio can escort the guests to the basement after dinner. I’m sure they can find something useful downstairs to act as restraints.”
Carden tipped his head toward the table. “Have a seat, boys. It looks like there’s plenty of food for all of us.” He pulled out four twenty-dollar bills and handed them to Zack. “Appreciate your help, man.”
Zack opened the cardboard boxes and passed a plate to each man. Steam wafted from the pizzas. “Help yourselves while they’re hot. There’s plenty of beer in the fridge too.”
Anthony crossed the room and opened the refrigerator. He pulled out a six-pack by its plastic sleeve, set it on the table, and returned to his seat.
Zack dropped a slice of pizza onto his plate. He pulled off a round of pepperoni and popped it into his mouth. “So how do you intend to breach the truck?”
“We have semi and f
ully automatic assault rifles. If the guns and our threats don’t do the trick, we’ll use the magnetic IED. That’ll bust open the back door without any problem. I doubt if anyone inside will live through it, though.” Carden bit into a piece of pizza and burned the roof of his mouth. “Son of a bitch, that’s hot.” With a snap, he popped the beer tab, gulped a mouthful, and swished it around before swallowing. “Damn cheese. Anyway, we’re better prepared than we were in 2014, and we got away with it then. This should be a piece of cake, and having the agent as a decoy will help too. Let’s take a look at that basement. I’d still like to get a good night’s sleep once we have them squared away.”
“Sure thing. I forgot, you haven’t been to this house yet. Right this way.” Zack pushed back his chair and rose from the table. He munched on a piece of garlic bread as the three men followed at his back.
The lower level of the rented house had been used as office space at one time. Two rooms separated by dated paneling filled the left half of the basement. One large room, devoid of anything except the cement floor and the beams holding up the first story, filled the right side.
“This is perfect. The sister can go in the first room, and Mr. Macho can be chained to the beam farthest away from her in that wide-open space. Let’s bring them down,” Carden said.
Zack cracked his knuckles then grasped the handrail as he climbed the stairs. “He’s blindfolded too, right?”
“Absolutely. He doesn’t need to see either of our faces. Boys, bring the sister in first. We’ll give her some garlic bread, she can use the facilities, and then she’s going downstairs. J.T. will be a problem, as usual. He may have to get knocked out again to keep the transition to the basement easier.”
Julie’s muffled cries got louder as they led her through the door and into the house.
“Keep it down unless you want a broken jaw like your brother. That makes eating far more difficult.” Antonio pressed his mouth against her plugged ear. “Hold out your hand. I’m going to give you a piece of garlic bread to eat.”
She stuck out her bound, shaking hands. Antonio wedged a piece of bread between her palms then ripped the duct tape off her mouth. She winced and moaned as blood droplets formed on her lower lip.
“Suck it up and eat that bread.” Antonio pushed her down on a wooden kitchen chair and leaned against the table as he waited for her to finish it. “Okay, let’s go.” He took two steps, slipped his hand under her armpit, and pulled her off the chair. “The bathroom is over here. You get three minutes, then I’m coming in after you.” He entered the room, lifted the toilet lid, and walked her to it. “I’ll be right outside, and don’t even think of pulling that blindfold off.” He left the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
“How’s it going?” Carden asked. He threw the smashed beer can into the recycling bin and took a seat on a chair in the living room.
“She’ll be done in a minute, sir, and then we’ll get her secured downstairs.” Antonio studied his fists. “J.T. might have to get a knuckle sandwich, though.”
“Do whatever you need to do to get him in the basement with as little drama as possible. I’m growing tired of his resistance.”
Antonio banged on the bathroom door. “I’m coming in.” He turned the knob and pushed, then he looked at Anthony and laughed. “The bitch locked the door.” Antonio shouldered the door with a hard thrust and snapped it off the hinges. “What the hell did you think that was going to accomplish?” He grabbed Julie by the hair and yanked her to the basement stairs. She screamed with each downward step. Once she was tied to a beam in the first room, Antonio stretched a fresh length of duct tape across her mouth and tightened the blindfold. “Enjoy your last night alive, Julie.” He jammed the earplugs deeper in her ears then closed the door and returned to the living room. “Let’s get the agent, brother. I’m on a roll.” He stared at his large, somewhat unscathed hands. “Guess it’s time to scrape up these knuckles.” Antonio led the way out to the garage. With the driver’s side door open and his hand on the trunk lever, Antonio gave Anthony a quick glance. “Got the gun?”
“I’ve got it.”
“Okay, I’m opening it, but he’s not going to come out willingly.” Antonio jerked his head toward a baseball bat that leaned against the wall. “That should convince him to behave. Grab it.”
With the bat in hand, Anthony gave his brother a nod. “Pop the trunk.”
Chapter 54
Spelling checked the time on the analog clock above the office door. It read eleven thirty.
“Does anyone have questions before we call it a night?” He looked from one tired face to the next. “We all know the plan and the areas on the route where we need to be on high alert?”
My colleagues and I nodded that we understood.
Mr. Rosemond seemed to want reaffirmation of his own. “So the safest time to move the diamonds is tomorrow when the fake transport is scheduled to take place?”
“That’s correct, sir. The criminals will be too busy watching us to even think a bait-and-switch has happened. You’ll have the moving service show up and load the truck, and then the Trident driver and guards will take over. Everyone wins. The downtown police department will escort you to the city limits, and the sheriff’s department will take it from there. They’ll follow a few car lengths behind on the freeway, then the Brookfield Police Department will take over on the surface streets and escort you to the back of the store, where the truck will be unloaded. You’ll never see the criminals, and they’ll have no idea what’s really taking place. We’re going to accomplish two goals at the same time. We’ll be the decoy while the actual transport is under way. Tomorrow, we’re taking down the bad guys once and for all. We’ll get them off the street, rescue our agent and his sister, and you’ll have your inventory delivered safely.”
John Bentley stood. “I hope there are no hard feelings, Andrew. We’ll still make the delivery like we agreed on, just not in our own truck and not by risking my employees’ lives. Under the circumstances—”
Mr. Rosemond interrupted with a nod. “I understand. Just find out who leaked the transport details and turn them in. The police can decide what to do with that person.”
“Okay, agents, we’re meeting at the downtown headquarters at eight a.m. We’ll review everything one more time in-house, and then we’ll gather here at ten o’clock and wait for the Trident armored truck to arrive. That’s when we’re going to change into their uniforms and take over the show. We know the areas on the route where we need to be on our highest alert. Everyone will be wearing their vests, we’ll have radio contact at all times, and backup will be dispatched if needed.” Spelling cracked his knuckles before addressing the store owner. “Just one more thing before we call it a night. Mr. Rosemond, make sure your transport truck doesn’t arrive until we’ve left the store. I’d say once we pull out with the Trident armored truck, have the moving truck come in ten minutes later, load up your inventory, and let the Trident driver and guards take over. Okay, people, go home, get some rest, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
Back at the FBI parking garage, I parted ways with the other agents. The drive home to North Bend was long and lonely, and my mind was filled with what-ifs. I thought about J.T. and Julie as I drove. A million silent prayers passed between my lips for a positive outcome tomorrow. I knew what bad timing, bad luck, and bad results were all about and had experienced enough of them to last a lifetime. I wanted tomorrow to be a good day—I prayed for it—and whether he knew it or not, J.T.’s life depended on it.
If I was lucky I’d get five hours of sleep at most, but it was more than I’d had at any one time in the last few days. I pulled into my garage just before midnight. The thought of sleeping on the sofa in our agents’ lounge had crossed my mind, but my need for a shower, a comfortable bed, a clothing change, and a decent breakfast won out in the end. I quietly tiptoed into the house and down the hallway to my bedroom. As I passed Amber’s room, I heard the TV playing but knew that at t
hat hour, she likely had the alarm set and was sound asleep. I peeked under the birdcage cover and smiled at Porky and Polly. They too, side by side on the perch, were fast asleep. I slipped on my pajamas, brushed my teeth, and fell into bed. Morning, and hopefully a successful rescue and apprehension, would come soon enough.
I didn’t remember anything beyond my head hitting the pillow last night, but at six o’clock, my phone alarm buzzed obnoxiously on the nightstand. The delicious scent of coffee wafted down the hallway and was enough to coax me out of bed. Amber was apparently up and likely making breakfast. I was sure my purse hanging over the back of the barstool had told her I was home. I slipped on my bathrobe and headed toward the kitchen.
“Hey, big sis. It’s nice to see you again.” Amber poured coffee into two waiting cups and placed them on the breakfast bar then embraced me with a tight squeeze. “We’ve missed you.”
“You and the menagerie?” I covered my yawn with my fist. “Today is going to be intense.” I sat at the bar and sipped my coffee.
“I hope you got enough sleep.” Amber rested her hand on my shoulder. “Do you think it’s going to turn out okay?”
I shrugged. “We’ve gone over our procedure a dozen times. We know the likely area they’ll strike within a couple of miles. All we can do is be prepared for the worst and hope for the best.”
“How do you think J.T. and Julie come into play?”
I shook my head and watched as Amber got up and pulled two bowls out of the cupboard.
“Is this okay?” She turned toward me and held up a package of apple cinnamon instant oatmeal.
“It’s fine. My stomach is doing flip-flops, anyway. We don’t know exactly how anything is going down. All we know is that they kidnapped J.T. and Curt, and both of them were involved in the takedown of the bank robbers in 2014. J.T. was the one who happened to shoot Sam Dunbar, though. Once they realized that, they killed Curt.”
“Why not just let him go?” Amber got up and pulled the bowls out of the microwave.
