Brutus nods his head, smiles and takes his Harley-Davidson magazine out of his back pocket and opens it up, covering his face. “Okay, Chase, consider the conversation ended. Oh, by the way, we’re supposed to meet a Kansas City detective tonight at his hotel and welcome him to Nebraska, but you didn’t hear it from me.” Brutus lowers the magazine and winks at her as panic rushes through her body.
Chase wonders if he knows that she’s an agent, or if he knows she’s connected with Detective Joe Johnson.
If so, how’d they find out and how can she warn Joe?
She hopes he was smart enough to bring Vernon for backup. She can’t see Vernon letting Joe come alone, as tight as they are. How’d they get the information on 140
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what hotel Joe would be staying at and what time he’d arrive? There’s a serious leak in the police department and the bureau. She’s sure Dread’s money and influence has something to do with it. And who in the hell is over Dread and what is at stake? Something bigger than she expects is going down and she needs to find out fast before she, Joe and Vernon end up dead. She gets angry and is tired of the cat-and-mouse game Brutus is playing.
“Brutus, why in the hell are you telling me all this?
If you got a point, make it!”
Brutus slowly puts down his magazine, seeing that he has Chase’s full attention. “There’s something I want, and there’s something you want. Just think about it. We need to get going to this meeting. I’ll drive,” Brutus says as he gets up, pulls his sunglasses from his shirt pocket and heads toward the squad car.
So many things go through Chase’s head. Brutus is up to something and she needs to figure out what his angle is fast before he ends up getting them both killed.
When she gets in the car and fastens her seat belt, Brutus looks over his dark sunglasses, “Not a word of this to Dread, Chase.”
She stares at him and lets the moment’s silence speak for her. As they roll through the streets of Omaha they don’t say a word. The uncertain silence has her stomach churning as nervous energy flows through the police vehicle.
Chase stares out the window and remembers when she, Vernon and Joe were on the Missouri River Serial Killer case. She remembers the condition of the dead prostitutes: bruised, battered, limbless and violated. She remembers the feeling of helplessness she felt.
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She feels the same vile irritation starting to rise in her throat now. She considers how similar her situation is becoming to that and wonders if this is a parallel. Has she sunk so low as to be prostituted by the FBI. She keeps hearing Brutus compare her to a dog. Then she thinks of how Joe held her in his big arms in Jefferson City and how safe and loved she felt. If only he wasn’t married. No other man has ever made her feel that way.
The possibilities are always there, but now she has to figure out how to warn Joe.
Chapter 9
We are about forty minutes from downtown Omaha, when I get this melancholy feeling that something is not right with my dad. I jerk the powerful Corvette over to the shoulder as dusk falls on the open road. I grab my cell phone and hit the speed dial to my parents’ home.
“Joe, what the hell is going on?” Vernon groggily asks as he awakes from his slumber.
I answer while holding the cell phone to my ear, “I got to call my dad. Something doesn’t feel right.”
Vernon takes out a cigar, unwraps it and places it in his mouth. On the fourth ring Mom answers and I can tell by the sound of her voice that she’s been crying.
“Mom, this is Joe. How’s Dad doing? Are you okay?”
Mom tries to hide her emotion, but doesn’t do a good job. “Your father is slipping away from me, Joe. We’ve been together for fifty-two beautiful years and all those Vincent Alexandria
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memories are fading from your father. It’s so hard, son, sometimes he doesn’t even recognize me.
The people from hospice came by at the doctor’s request. They’ve been very helpful and are helping me cope with this. Your brothers and sisters are here, but they are just as distraught as I am. Your father’s systems are slowly shutting down. They say he only has about six days to live.” Mom sighs, and I can tell she is getting agitated. I know she is scared and probably has started to consider life without my father. “Where are you, Joe?
Why are you not here?” Mom starts to break down and cry.
I let the car seat back and wipe the tears from my eyes. “Mom, I’m so sorry I’m on this case. I’ll get home as soon as I can. Is Dad in any pain?”
“They’re giving him morphine shots, so he’s pretty comfortable. Sierra and the kids have been a godsend, Joe. She’s here now. You want to talk to her?”
“Yes, please put her on the phone. And Mom?”
“Yes, son.”
“I’ll always be there for you, Mother. You know I love you, right?”
“I know you do and I love you, too. You be safe and watch your back and come back safe to us, you hear?”
“I will, Mother. I’ll be home soon.”
Sierra gets on the phone and I melt when I hear her voice.
“Hi, Joe, baby, I wish you were here. It’s so hard seeing your father like this.”
“I’m sorry I’m not there, sweetheart. Thank you for helping Mom. It really means a lot to me and my parents. Are things really bad?”
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“Dad’s a tough man, Joe. He has the kids around him when he’s feeling well. He has them laughing and talks to them about Grandpa getting ready to go to Heaven, and that he’ll be watching them from above. He told them when they do bad he’s gonna come back and haunt them. But he is in and out sometimes with his memory.
He is mixing the kids’ names up, but they just correct him as they hug and kiss him.” Sierra giggles as both of us start to cry.
“Yeah, my dad is a character. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Call me on my cell if he takes a turn for the worse.
I’ll be in touch, baby.”
Vernon touches me on the shoulder as I wipe my tears and he takes the phone from me.
“Sierra, how you doing, girl? Tell Gertrude that we’re fine, and that we’ll try and wrap this up as soon as we can. Tell the family I send my love, okay?” Vernon hangs up the phone.
Vernon rubs his chin and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Joe, I know this is very hard for you, man. But, you need to shake this stuff off, bro. We are about to get into some very dangerous shit, Joe. You have to have your wits about you and focus or we might as well head back to Kansas City and make funeral arrangements for Chase.”
I think about what Vernon has said. I lay my head back and close my eyes. My father’s never been sick. I picture him in bed. I feel guilty as hell, but it makes me feel better that Sierra is there with the kids.
I get out of the car, sit on the hood and gaze at the golden and green sea of cornstalks that line the other side of the highway swaying to and fro like ocean waves.
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“Vernon, this is harder than I thought it would be, but I’ll get it together. We need to check in with Agent James to get our orders and point of contact.” The sun slowly sets on the horizon, and I can’t help but think that it’s symbolic of my father’s precious life slowly fading from him.
Majestic colors—orange, blue, yellow and red—
encompass the skyline as, enchantingly, birds fly away to some unknown place. The hollow breeze that blows across my troubled face is cool. A large flock of geese fly overhead, their wings falling up and down as if they are waving goodbye to me. My father’s presence surrounds me and I smile. Things will turn out for the best.
I’ll get back to his bedside in time for him to cross over to his eternal bliss. I promise myself that.
I dial the number to Agent Royal James’s office at FBI Headquarters in Kansas City. He answers on the second ring.
“Detectiv
e Johnson here, I’m outside Omaha. I just wanted to check in and find out my point of contact.”
Since Agent James doesn’t know that Vernon is with me, it’s better to keep it that way, just in case my feelings about this situation turn out to be true, Vernon will be my trump card.
“Good to hear from you, Joe. I talked to Agent Chase earlier today and she’s fine for now. Dread has struck again, though. We found six men shot in the back in a field in a nearby town. It appears that the poor bastards were gunned down while running for their lives. There was also a Sioux City police officer killed and burned in his squad car.”
“Was there any evidence fingering Dread Cattanno?”
“Yes, Agent Chase was an eyewitness, but without 146
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her we don’t have a case. We also need to get the list of dirty cops that connected to Dread. I hear he keeps the list closely guarded in his study safe. One more thing…”
It’s amazing how much damage this guy has done and how Chase handled being in the middle of that mess. The department has let Dread get out of control.
Someone must be protecting him.
“There’s more?” I ask.
“Yes. Agent Smelley was found dead. We found him in a barn in Nebraska. His body has been released to his family. We’ve requested that they not go to the press for obvious reasons. They were pretty angry, but agreed to our request. We have to solve this case for them, as well.”
Anger swells inside me and I’m not sure it’s because of how Smelley was killed or that it’s being compounded by suppressed feelings about my dad or both.
Agent Smelley was a good man. I’d known him for over five years. Whatever the case, my left hand clenches into a tight fist.
“I feel for their loss, and Dread will pay. Where should I report and who is my contact?”
There’s a hint of a pause, then James says, “I’ve arranged for another agent, Epiphany Duvall, to meet you.
She’s from Dallas, Texas, and she’s the best of the best.
She’s been briefed on the case and she knows what you look like. She’ll contact you at the hotel. She’ll fly in tomorrow morning. Your room will be under my name.
Everything has been taken care of, so don’t worry about anything. Just show your identification. You’ll have a suite at the downtown Marriott. We also have an inside man at the hotel, Agent Jason Phillips. We call him Vincent Alexandria
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Little Tiny. You’ll know why when you meet him.”
Agent James chuckles.
“You know how I feel about working with people I don’t know, Agent James…so how am I approaching this Dread Cattanno when I get into Nebraska?”
“That’s why I got you the best agents to back you up.
Don’t worry about Dread, he’ll contact you. Word is out that a bad-ass detective from Kansas City is out to get with his group. I’m sure he’ll have something up his sleeve to test you, so be careful. And, Joe, don’t kill him.
He’s vital to the case, you understand?”
“I’ll do my best. I’ll contact you when we have the list of rogue cops.” I hang up and fill Vernon in on what’s about to happen as we get back in the car and continue our drive.
“So, does he know I’m with you?”
“No, Vernon, and let’s keep it that way.”
Vernon puts a crack in his window and takes a deep breath. “Do you think that Sweet St. Louis and Mo-Mo will get in tonight?”
“I’m sure they will. They haven’t let me down to this point. We’re supposed to be matched up with two FBI agents, Epiphany Duvall and Jason Phillips. They call him Little Tiny.”
Vernon becomes perturbed. “Aw, hell, no, Joe. You know how I feel about working with people I don’t know. Shit, they can get you killed. I’m already having doubts about your two ghetto friends from Topeka.
Them boys don’t seem to be wrapped too tight,” Vernon says as he looks in the sideview mirror.
“Relax, Vernon, it’s already done. Mo-Mo and Sweet St. Louis know what to do, and they can take very good care of themselves.”
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Vernon looks at me with a smirk. “Whatever!”
We drive through the city as dusk breaks into night and pull into the parking lot of the Marriott Hotel. Before we get inside, Vernon grabs me by the shoulder.
“Dude, I forgot those pimp-steak sandwiches in the car.”
I frown at Vernon as the young desk clerk listens in to our conversation wearing a plastic smile.
“Man, I thought you didn’t like those pimp-steak sandwiches.”
Vernon shrugs his shoulders at me like he doesn’t care either way. “Well, either I can leave them in your little sports car all night long and have it smelling like barbecue sauce in the morning, or I can go get them out so we can have something to eat while I’m whipping your ass at dominos,” Vernon says with a smile.
I turn to the cinnamon-brown-complexioned desk clerk with blond-auburn hair and a cute round face. She is so far into our conversation that her elbows are resting comfortably on the front counter.
I read her name tag, show her my FBI badge and identification.
“Ms. Valerie Wilson, could you please tell me what room we’ll be in? The room should be under the name of Royal James.”
She smiles as she reddens. I smile back at her.
“Yes, sir, let me check the computer registry. Yes, here it is. We have you in the Presidential Suite. The sofa in the living area folds out into a bed or I can put you in a smaller suite that has two beds in it.”
“That won’t be necessary, the Presidential Suite is fine,” I respond. I turn to Vernon.
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“Whoever wins the best three out of five games of dominos gets the bed, old man.”
Vernon just smiles and winks at me as I turn my attention back to Ms. Wilson. “What’s the suite number?”
“Eighteen-twelve and you’ll need to insert your room key in the elevator to get to the eighteenth floor. There’s a courtesy room on the twenty-first floor where you are welcome to complimentary cocktails, desserts and appetizers. It will be open until seven this evening.” She hands each of us a plastic key card. She asks, batting her eye lashes, “Will there be anything else?”
“No thanks, Ms. Wilson, you’ve been most helpful,”
Vernon responds, pushing me in the back of the head.
“I’ll meet you in the suite, and I’ll bring the luggage up with me.” Vernon takes the car keys off the counter.
“I need to stretch my legs, so I’m going to walk around the block and find some juice or sodas to wash down them sandwiches,” he says as he jiggles the keys in front of my face.
I start laughing as I grab the bags off the floor.
“That’s cool, bro, just don’t try to pick up any young ladies in my ride, fool. I don’t want Gertrude having to whip your old ass for trying to live a second childhood.”
Vernon gives me a dirty look. “Why you always hatin’, Joe? You’re worse than that prissy pimp friend of yours, Pretty Kevin. Always talking junk and can’t back up nothin’. I’ll see your punk ass in a minute,” Vernon says as he walks toward the exit.
“Aw, Vernon, man, don’t be so damn sensitive. I don’t hate, brother. Have a good time.”
“Whatever!” Vernon states as he gives me the finger, and leaves.
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A huge white bellman approaches. “Need some help with those bags, sir?”
I look at the biggest bellman I’ve ever seen in my life.
The guy stands six foot two and looks to weigh about three hundred pounds.
“I think I can handle it, partner. It’s only a couple of bags.”
The overweight, baby-faced bellman grabs the bags, startling me with his persistence.
“I insist. Let a dude do his job, sir. It’s been slow tonight and you never know when you might ne
ed your hands free, if you know what I mean.”
He nudges me in the arm with his elbow.
Oh, shoot, Little Tiny. I give in to his persistence and enter the elevator. He motions for the suite key and I give it to him. He inserts it into the card slot in the elevator.
“What floor?” He grunts between breaths.
“The eighteenth. You all right, dude?”
“Yeah, I’m cool,” he pats his bulging belly. “I was working out earlier and I’m waiting on them energy bars to kick in.”
We both laugh. He reaches out his large pawlike hand to shake my mine and formally introduces himself. “I’m Agent Jason Phillips. My friends call me Little Tiny.”
I look him up and down. Puzzled, I ask, “Okay, I give up. Why they call you Little Tiny?”
He looks at me, blushing, his pearly white teeth spread across his smile, amused as though he’s holding back laughter. “’Cause ain’t nothing on me small, so they have to say it twice!” We both start to laugh.
He wipes the tears of laughter from his eyes with the sleeve of his uniform jacket.
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“Seriously, Agent James sent me in to assist with getting Agent Chase from undercover and to help you in this task.” He nods his head toward the ceiling of the elevator.
“You don’t know it, but you have company in your suite.
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