When Duke took another step toward the living room, the floor creaked under his weight and Waldo turned, looking right at him. Duke moved quickly, but he didn’t need to. As Waldo stood and tried to run for the door, forgetting that his pants were down around his ankles, he tripped and fell forward, knocking Tammy aside. He came down head-first onto the edge of a heavy wooden table, and flopped onto his side like a dead fish.
Tammy screamed, but Duke was on her in a second, smothering her face with his big right hand to muffle her scream. She tried to struggle against him, but he was behind her and in complete control of the much smaller woman.
Looking over at Waldo, he could see the man was still breathing, but he already had a huge bluish knot on his forehead. Looking around the room, he saw Tammy’s shirt lying on the floor by the chair. He grabbed it and quickly gagged the woman with it. Reaching over, Duke grabbed the end of Waldo’s belt and yanked it free. He used the man’s web belt to tightly tie Tammy’s arms, crossed elbow to palm. behind her back.
Getting to his feet, Duke looked around the room. Beside the chair was a small table. On it was a mirror, and what looked like a couple grams of coke. He picked it up, along with a short plastic straw that was lying next to it, then turned and looked down at Tammy.
Duke had only seen her a few times, but knew she was Waldo’s girl. Whenever he’d seen her, she’d always been wearing baggy jeans and shirts. The weird hair colors and black horn-rimmed glasses she wore were distracting. Her roots were a dark red, changing to a brighter red, then orange, yellow, and almost white at the tips. He’d seen her on the back of Waldo’s old Triumph, before he’d wrecked it. Her hair streaming behind her in the wind made it look like her head was on fire.
She had scooted away to the corner and was looking up at Duke, fear in her eyes. She wore only black panties and a blue bra that pushed her tits up, making them look bigger. But it was her tattoos that really caught Duke’s attention.
Brightly colored parrots flew around Tammy’s shoulders, and multicolored fish swam across her hips in two schools, heading down into her panties. Long, slender octopus tentacles twined up both her legs, beginning at her feet and stretching up to mid-thigh. One reached all the way to her crotch. It wasn’t a lot of any one thing, and where her skin wasn’t tattooed, she was pale white and flawless.
Duke took a step toward her and she cowered in fear. “Is this my brother’s coke?” Duke asked, putting the straw to his nose and sniffing up one of the lines. Thumbing his nose, he answered his own question, as if it was proof positive. “Oh yeah, definitely Harley’s.”
Tammy tried to say something, but the shirt in her mouth muffled her voice. Her eyes went to Waldo, reminding Duke that he still needed to hogtie the dealer before he woke up. Duke put the mirror down and looked around again. The window behind Waldo’s chair had blinds that were pulled down and closed. Taking a switchblade from his pocket, Duke quickly cut the lines from several sets of blinds. They were very thin, but made of braided nylon and plenty strong enough. He bound Waldo’s hands first, then went to where Tammy sat with her back against a wall.
When he knelt to tie her feet, she kicked at him. He grabbed her ankle and stood up, lifting her by one leg and banging the side of her head on the floor. He easily hoisted her up until her foot was nearly touching the ceiling, and her groin was at eye level. The proximity excited him.
“We can do this the hard way if you want,” Duke snarled at the wriggling woman. “I don’t have no problem beating up a girl. Or I can put you down and we can do things the easy way. I might even take that gag off, so you can tell me where my brother’s money is.”
Tammy stopped struggling and Duke looked down at her face. She nodded her head and he slowly lowered her to the floor. A moment later, he had both her and Waldo’s feet tied securely, and knelt beside her.
Her body was like a work of art. The tropical birds and fish only covered a small portion of her skin, but it was like it made her look even better. Duke had thought her to be pudgy under those baggy clothes, but her body was firm and toned.
“I’m going to take that gag out,” he said. “I need you to tell me where Waldo keeps his cash. I ain’t gonna take it all, just the five gees he owes Harley. Now, if you scream, I’m just gonna have to punch your lights out and find it myself. Okay?”
She nodded and he pulled the gag down over her chin. “He doesn’t have much left,” she said, breathlessly. “I told him it was a bad idea to cross Harley, but he said he could make it up with the next front. He was gonna call him, I swear.”
“Where is it?” Duke asked.
“In the bedroom. There’s a nightstand under the window. There’s, well, toys and stuff in it. In the back is a big jar. His money’s in there.”
“Thanks.” Duke pulled the gag back up over Tammy’s mouth and patted her on the cheek. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Duke went to the bedroom and opened the drawer of the nightstand. In it was a collection of multi-colored dildos, some way bigger than anatomically possible, and even a couple that strapped on. He reached into the back and took the jar out. Opening it, he saw that there was indeed a roll of cash inside.
Carrying the jar to the living room, Duke sat down in Waldo’s chair. He took the roll of bills out, tossed the jar aside, and started counting. When he finished, he looked at the unconscious Waldo. Then he slowly looked around at the living room’s cheap furnishings, until his gaze fell on Tammy. “There’s only about a grand here.”
Tammy tried to say something, so Duke stepped over and jerked the gag down. “Where’s the rest?”
“He spent it,” Tammy said. “A deal came up on this trailer and we had to move fast on it. He’ll make good on it, though. I promise, Duke. He’s coming into a bunch of money on Monday.”
Waldo started to stir, and Duke looked over at him. “He’s gonna be okay, but that knot on his head’s gonna hurt a while.” He looked back down at Tammy. “I need something worth more than four grand for collateral. Where’s the valuables?”
“Valuables?” Tammy asked. “What do you mean?”
“I’m takin’ this thousand dollars,” Duke said, waving the bills, then folding them into his pocket. “Waldo owes Harley four thousand more. So, I gotta take Harley something that’s worth more than that, to make sure that Waldo brings the money. It’s called collateral.”
“I know what it means,” Tammy snarled. “But Waldo ain’t got anything worth that much. Even both our cars combined ain’t worth four thousand dollars.”
Waldo rolled over on his back and groaned. Duke glanced over at him. “That true, Waldo? You don’t have anything worth what you owe my brother?”
The man struggled to turn his body so he could see Duke. “You got it all wrong, Duke,” he pleaded. “I got money coming in. Guaranteed, man. I’ll pay Harley every penny with interest on Monday.”
“Harley told me to get collateral, or kill you,” Duke lied. “What you got worth four grand?”
“I don’t have anything worth that,” Waldo said. “But I will on Monday. I swear, man.”
Duke turned his head slowly to Tammy, looking up her octopus-snared legs to the little fish swimming across her flat hips and down into her panties. His eyes lingered on her boobs and the parrots soaring above them, then moved up to her flaming hair. On a chubby chick with glasses, the hair just looked funny. On a tatted-up hard-body, it was arousing.
“Y’all wait here,” Duke said, standing up. “I gotta bring my Jeep around. I think I know what you can use for collateral until Monday.”
Finn followed us across the yard to the door. I held it for him and Devon, and he went straight to his water bowl and rug in the corner. I walked Devon to the bar and introduced her to Rusty, who was talking to Morgan.
“Your friend was just telling me how he was able to figure out where the dive site was,” Morgan said.
“He’s got salt water in his blood,” I said. “With a full moon rising, he leans to the east. If
a question involves wind, tides, or currents, Rusty’s the guy to talk to.”
“Y’all got the tables I pushed together in the corner,” Rusty said.
I looked around. Vince sat with his back to the wall in the other corner with Lawrence and Billy. They were huddled close, and it looked like Billy was doing most of the talking.
Bourke and Bender were sitting at a table in the middle, talking with Tony, who must have arrived while I was showering. The door opened and Deuce stepped inside, walking straight toward us.
Deuce shook hands with the two detectives. “Another of my associates is at our communications center,” he said, lifting the strap of the laptop bag hanging over his shoulder. “She’ll be following along and providing anything technical.”
“I usually prefer to conduct interviews like this at the station,” Morgan said. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a meeting in a bar.”
“The Anchor is more than a bar,” I said. “It’s a gathering spot and a place to conduct business and discuss the news of the day for locals.”
We moved to the corner, where Morgan took the chair at one end of the two tables and Deuce set up his laptop at the other end. Rusty went to the front door, turned the open sign around and locked the door.
Once everyone was seated, Deuce said, “Let’s get introductions out of the way, first. Detectives Morgan and Evans, these are some of the employees of Livingston and Associates Security.”
I glanced up at him. “That was fast.”
“Yeah, well, the paperwork got a little push from Uncle Sam.” Looking at Ben, he continued. “You know Jesse, Lawrence, and Billy. Billy is representing both Lawrence and his partner, Vince O’Hare. As of yesterday, Billy has accepted a position with our firm, and Mister Lovett put us on retainer. While we’re still employed by the federal government, we are acting as a private security firm, hired by Mister Lovett.”
“Why?” Ben asked. “Lovett’s already been cleared of the murders.”
“The murders of two of his employees,” Deuce said. “It goes beyond clearing his name. Mister Lovett wants to find those responsible and bring them to justice.”
“And just who are you people?” Ben asked. “I’ve been a cop here for a long time and never heard of Livingston and Associates.”
“All of us are, or soon will be, former agents with Homeland Security,” Deuce replied, unflustered. And why not? Sitting around the table were some serious snake eaters. Whether they’d been heard of in Key West didn’t detract from that in any way. Deuce nodded at the barrel-chested man with the big mustache next to him. “Andrew Bourke, former Master Chief Petty Officer in the Coast Guard’s Maritime Enforcement. Next to him is Paul Bender. Paul’s a former agent with the Secret Service’s Presidential Detail and holds a PhD in forensic psychology.”
Nodding at Tony, Deuce continued, “Tony Jacobs, Navy SEAL chief petty officer and explosives expert.”
“Impressive,” Morgan said. “And you are Commander Russell Livingston, former commanding officer of the Naval Special Warfare Development Group, in Dam Neck, Virginia, and former Associate Secretary of Homeland Security.”
“I see you did your homework,” I said.
“Yes, I did,” Morgan said, then looked back to Deuce. “You left out a couple of backgrounds, Commander. Your attorney was a Marine, as was Mister McDermitt.”
“Is,” Devon corrected him.
“Yes, well. At any rate, there’s an open investigation that was quietly buried in the tombs in Fort Myers some years ago.” Morgan looked at me and asked, “Were you and Mister Rainwater in the Everglades together five years ago?”
Billy had been talking quietly with Vince, but looked up suddenly. Billy and I have known each other practically our whole lives and it was the first time I’d ever seen him surprised.
Morgan was waiting for me to react. I looked him straight in the eyes and held his gaze for several seconds. “Yeah,” I finally replied. “Billy and I used to hunt and fish the Glades every fall, before school started. We decided to do it again in 2003.”
His eyes never left mine. “A successful hunt?”
“Yes,” I replied, staring back. “Very successful.”
“I don’t have a problem with that,” Morgan finally said. “I hate cold cases and it’s outside Monroe County. Just wanted to see if you’d tell me the truth.”
“Is something going on here I should know about?” Deuce asked.
My eyes continued to bore into Morgan’s. Finally, he looked up at Deuce. “You neglected to say that you and Captain McDermitt have a shared relationship with the president.”
“The fishing trip?” Deuce asked. “Yeah, a couple years ago, President Bush came down here for a little fishing.”
Morgan reached into his inside jacket pocket and took out a folded sheet of paper and slid it across to Devon. “That’s an official White House email,” he said. “Addressed to Mister Bender, and copied to Sheriff Roth and Doctor Fredric. In it, the president wishes Mister Bender great success in his new endeavor with Misters Livingston and McDermitt, who he specifically calls Deuce and Jesse.”
Devon looked at the paper. Over her shoulder, I could clearly see the logo of the White House. “Whoa,” she said, looking at me. “You’ve got some friends in high places.”
“Yeah,” I said. “We’re old fishing buddies. Can we get on with this? I’d like to get back to causing some sore lips myself.”
Deuce spun his laptop around. “This is our IT expert, Chyrel Koshinski, formerly with DHS and a CIA computer analyst before that.”
“Hey, Detectives,” Chyrel said from the video link to the island. She was sitting in front of a blank wooden wall, which I recognized, because I’d cut the boards and nailed them in place myself.
“So, where do we start?” Deuce asked.
Morgan looked over at Lawrence and Vince, and then back at Deuce. “It seems that your clients have some information that they’ve withheld from our investigation. How about I tell you what we have, and let them fill in the blanks. We’re all here to catch a serial killer.”
“Serial killer?” Deuce asked. “I thought the criteria for that was three murders.”
Devon turned toward me. “The body that was recovered yesterday morning was a prostitute. Manually strangled while having sex.”
Duke still hadn’t seen a soul in the trailer park. He backed his Jeep into the neighbor’s driveway and turned sharply in the grass behind the hearse, backing as close to Waldo’s door as he could get. It was late afternoon, and people would be getting home soon. He got out and went back inside the trailer. Waldo was still laying on the floor where he’d been left, but Tammy had wiggled over closer to him.
“Aw, you’re anxious to leave?” Duke asked, as he stepped over Waldo and sat down on the table, facing them both. Tammy’s eyes showed equal amounts of fear and hatred. Waldo was just pissed, but both were gagged and couldn’t answer.
“Here’s the deal,” Duke said, looking straight at Waldo. “You owe my brother five large and I got one from the jar. So, you still owe Harley four thousand. Nod if you’re with me.”
Waldo nodded, his eyebrows furrowed in anger. Duke looked over at Tammy and nodded his head questioningly. She nodded back.
“Okay, since you got no collateral for the four grand,” Duke said, “I’m gonna take Tammy with me.” Both started shaking their heads vigorously. Duke ignored their silent protests. “You can come and get her back on Monday when you bring the money.”
Duke straightened a leg and took his switchblade from his pocket, flicking it open. The gag in Tammy’s mouth muffled her scream. Duke flipped the knife end over end, into the kitchen, where the tip stuck deeply into the face of a cabinet, the shaft quivering.
“When you’re feeling up to it,” Duke said, standing up, “scoot yourself in there and you can cut that cord.”
Tammy squirmed and tried to inchworm away from Duke. He took a long step toward her, grabbed a fistful of hair, and brought her aroun
d as she struggled to a sitting position. “Remember, I said I don’t have a problem with hitting a girl?”
Tears streamed from her eyes, but she nodded.
“Good,” Duke said, patting the side of her face again. He bent over and easily scooped her up off the floor. Transferring her to one shoulder, he stepped over Waldo and opened the door.
Turning back, he said, “Bring my knife on Monday, too.”
Duke stepped out onto the porch as if carrying a half-naked, flame-headed, tattooed woman was as normal as carrying out the garbage. He quickly descended the steps and carried Tammy to his Jeep. Unsnapping the cover, he flipped it back and laid the woman in the Jeep’s small bed.
Snapping the cover back in place he said, “Plenty of air gets in there, you’ll be okay.” A moment later, he was on Highway One, headed south to the club.
It was just getting dark when Duke pulled into the rear parking lot of Rafferty’s Pub, parked and got out. He debated leaving Tammy in the bed, but thought she might start kicking if someone pulled in.
Throwing back the cover from the small bed, he lowered the tailgate and pulled Tammy out until her tentacled legs hung over the end. He hoisted her to his shoulder and slammed the tailgate closed.
Duke went in the back door and opened the big walk in cooler just inside. It was cold in there, but Duke figured she’d be okay for the few minutes she’d be in there, while he found Harley.
Tammy was trembling as Duke set her on her bare feet inside the cooler. The cold made her nipples stand out through the thin fabric of her little blue push-up bra. Again, he patted the side of her face, then let his hand fall to her breast, giving it a squeeze.
“I’ll be back in just a minute,” Duke said. “You be quiet here, and you just might make it out of this alive.”
He closed the door to the cooler and went down the hall to Harley’s office. He tapped on the door, then opened it, sticking his head in. Harley wasn’t there. He went out into the bar, the deep bass nailing him as soon as he opened the door. Brandy was on the stage, and a new girl was giving a guy a lap dance at a table in the corner.
Fallen Hero: A Jesse McDermitt Novel (Caribbean Adventure Series Book 10) Page 22
