Game ON (An Ozzie Novak Thriller, Book 2) (Redemption Thriller Series 14)

by John W. Mefford

  “I would say that was your most embarrassing moment, but you came through that weekend. Big time.” She waggled her eyebrows.

  I could feel my pale skin turn red. Nicole and I were still married but separated. We hadn’t really established any rules before I’d jumped on the plane to Hawaii. It was just…complicated.

  “Glad I could be of service,” I said, which elicited another cackle from Denise.

  All embarrassment aside, the levity was a nice break. It allowed me to think a little more clearly. I picked up the phone. “I want to give Keo some time. I don’t want to spam-call the guy. But I think we need to come up with a long-term plan.”

  She nodded and rubbed her eyes. I suggested that I leave her at the gas station while I run to her apartment, pack a bag for her and grab my things, and then we could try to find a place to stay.

  “Over my dead body,” she said, twisting in her seat, as defiant as ever.

  “Come on, Denise. It might be daylight outside, and I don’t think the thugs are going to make a return visit, not this soon anyway, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

  “But you will with your life?”

  I turned my palms up and shrugged.

  “I’ve thought more about their assault last night, Oz. They came to beat you up, not me. So, they view you as a threat.”

  “Maybe.”

  She tilted her head.

  “Okay, so more than ‘maybe.’” I glanced out the windshield and noticed how many bugs had been splattered.

  “I’m going with you. What if we find something that has to do with Mackenzie? I want to be there. End of conversation.”

  I opened my mouth.

  “Zip it,” she said like a mom might say to her child.

  “I was just going to ask if you want some beef jerky for the road.”

  One final laugh before heading back to the morbid apartment.

  14

  Puffy clouds rolled across the blue sky as we got out of the minivan at the apartment complex. I almost gasped when I saw kids actually playing near the dilapidated swing set. Two boys were throwing a Nerf football between the rusted metal bars.

  As we walked up the steps, a man, maybe the dad, wearing his blue cap backward, came out to join them. Seeing the family unit outside made me feel more at ease. Perhaps this place wasn’t a magnet for all things depressing and dangerous.

  We walked up to Denise’s apartment and found the door still locked. Good sign. Once inside, we both just stood there for a moment. The place was a wreck. We’d run out so quickly after the assault, we never took the time to assess the damage. Bookshelf was in pieces, books strewn everywhere. A side table was turned over; the aqua lamp had been shattered. After spotting the two bullet holes in the walls, my eyes found a sketchpad of drawings on the floor. A few of them were torn from the binder.

  I leaned down and picked them up, along with the colored pencils. Based upon what Denise had shared, I could easily see Mackenzie’s style in the drawings. Denise put her hand on my back, then walked into her bedroom to pack her bag. I placed the drawings in my bag and ensured I had all of my things together. A few seconds later, Denise rushed out of the bedroom.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She pointed at the door. “I guess you didn’t hear the knock.”

  My poor hearing strikes again. “Hold up,” I said, but she had already begun to open the door.

  A man was standing there. Something was in his hand. It was the guy in the blue cap, the one we’d seen earlier playing with the two kids.

  “What is this?” she asked, staring at an envelope in his hand.

  “It’s for you,” he said, extending his arm toward her.

  “Do you know this guy?” I asked Denise.

  “Seen him around.” Then she looked pointedly at the man and said, “But I don’t know your name.”

  “Look, I don’t want to be a jerk, but I just picked up a hundred bucks to give you this envelope. So, here you go.” The moment he handed it to Denise, I used two hands to grab him by the T-shirt. I twirled him around and smacked his back against the outside wall.

  “Who gave this to you?”

  His hat nearly fell off, but my grip was so tight he couldn’t lift his arms. “Dude, I’m just the messenger.”

  “You said that already.” I continued to apply pressure. “That’s why I asked you who gave it to you.”

  “Just some teenage punk. He just walked up, gave me the hundred bucks, and told me to walk it up here. Then he took off. I swear, it’s the truth. The cash is in my pocket, if you want to check.”

  I could feel my pulse hammering the side of my neck. I glanced at Denise, who was opening the letter.

  The man continued. “I live right downstairs with my two boys. Do you think I’d be bullshitting you?”

  I pulled back some.

  “It’s about Mackenzie,” Denise said.

  I let go of the guy, and he walked off. After shutting the door, she handed me the typed note. I read it out loud:

  If you want to find Mackenzie, head east.

  The mountains surge to the heavens, the coal runs deep, and the tribe became one. Where am I?

  Please do not contact authorities or we will be forced to kill her.

  Good luck.

  We both tried to speak, but nothing came out. Denise’s knees started to wobble a bit, and she gripped my shoulder. Finally, she said, “Ozzie, she’s alive. But they’ve taken her somewhere. It sounds like she’s…” She started to sway some as a new round of tears filled her red-rimmed eyes.

  I nodded. “It sounds like they took her to the mainland.” I was trying to fit this piece of the puzzle in with everything else we’d learned or experienced. But my mind couldn’t make it work.

  “Why…why would they take her off the island?” Denise began to sob. “I don’t understand what they want. No ransom. No demands. They just take her, and now they send us this? I don’t get it.”

  I took another glance at the note, then I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to focus. “Coal runs deep. Coal runs deep.”

  “Has to be West Virginia, right?” she said, wiping away tears. She started shaking her head and ambled a few steps. “This just doesn’t make sense, Ozzie. Why would the yakuza kidnap my daughter—”

  “Our daughter,” I quickly corrected her for some reason.

  “Our daughter. I know the yakuza has a global presence, but West Virginia?”

  She was in disbelief. I was right there with her. “I admit, it’s hard to fathom.” I walked past Denise, trampling across books and remnants of the broken lamp. Then, I flipped around and retraced my steps.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I don’t know. Sometimes I just think better when I’m moving.”

  “Swimming?”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t seem very realistic right now.”

  I continued pacing for the next minute, reading the letter every few seconds. I stopped on about my tenth lap. “Let’s start with the basic facts and build from there, okay?”

  “Okay, right.” Her eyelashes fluttered as though they were butterfly wings.

  “To state the obvious, this isn’t one person. The term ‘we’ was used. That would make me think it was indeed the yakuza behind this. A well-organized team who would know how to get people…kids…off the island without unwanted attention.”

  She nodded. “I’m following you.”

  “But this note…it feels like they’re teasing us. They want us to solve some riddle. Honestly, I’m just wondering what their point is. What’s their end game?”

  She spread her arms, then let them drop to her side. She didn’t know the answer. I didn’t know the answer. I was at a complete loss.

  I flapped the paper in front of me. “This could all be a ruse. Someone could be getting off on watching us jump on a plane and run across the country. We can’t dismiss that as a possibility.”

  “I know, I know.” She clasped her hands and brou
ght them to her forehead for a moment. “I just don’t know what the fuck we should do.”

  A knock at the door.

  We traded a quick glance; then I walked over and opened the door. “Keo?”

  With his sunglasses covering his eyes, he wiped sweat from his forehead. “I thought you’d be here.”

  15

  I picked chairs up from the floor and cleared off the kitchen table while Denise poured waters for the three of us. We sat down, explained to Keo what had transpired just minutes before he arrived, and handed him the note. He must have read it a dozen times, because his eyes—this was an assumption, of course, since I couldn’t really see his eyes—never left the paper for a good five minutes.

  “So, what do you make of this?” I asked.

  He didn’t lift his head. He just nodded.

  “What?” Denise fired off. “What does that head-nod thing mean?”

  He set the paper on the table. “In all my years on the force, I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

  “Do you think this is the work of the yakuza?” I asked.

  He pressed his lips together and took in a deep breath.

  “And?” Denise said sharply.

  Another deep intake of air. “I don’t know. My gut tells me no, but I’ve heard rumors that there are factions from the core group. Younger, more volatile. They think they are smarter than everyone, including their elders. This could be their work.”

  “Could be,” I emphasized. “How do we know, dammit?” I bit the side of my cheek, which kept me from slamming a fist on the table…or through the table.

  Denise picked up her glass of water and chugged it; then she wiped her mouth on her arm, her eyes never leaving Keo.

  “Hold on a second,” he said, scooting up in his chair. “My update from Hulama. She and I were talking when you called me earlier.”

  “Right,” I said. “What did she learn?”

  “Kapule denied having any knowledge of the kidnapping.”

  Denise and I locked eyes for a quick second.

  “So, that’s good news, I guess? I don’t even know at this point.” Denise dropped her elbows to the table.

  “But,” Keo said, holding up a finger, “he did tell Hulama that he couldn’t rule out some type of rogue group that might have gone off and done something like this.”

  “Okay, wonderful. More vague responses. It’s like dealing with a politician.”

  “I believe Kapule’s position in the yakuza is quite political, as a matter of fact.”

  I twisted out of the chair and walked across the living room, tripping over a part of the bookshelf before turning back around.

  “I sense your frustration, Ozzie. And Denise, I know this is gut-wrenching,” Keo said, placing his hand to his chest. “For everything you have experienced here on the Big Island, please know how sorry I am. This does not represent what my people are about.”

  “Thanks, Keo,” I said, raking my fingers through my hair. “This isn’t an indictment on the Hawaiian people, or even the Japanese. This island is beautiful in so many ways…to the point of making you speechless. But no place is immune to the twisted and—”

  “Fucked-up people!” Denise said, smacking her hand off the table. “We still don’t know who took my Mackenzie. Maybe it’s the yakuza, maybe it’s some type of splinter group. Who knows?”

  She paused a second, her eyes landing on the painting over the couch. “And beyond that, we’re not sure if we should try to solve this riddle and chase after something that might be a complete fucking farce!”

  I walked back over to the table and rested my hand on Denise’s shoulder. I could feel the tightness in her muscles and ligaments.

  There was a moment of silence, and then Keo spoke up. “Just so you know, Kapule said he does not condone this type of retribution. And that he will continue seeking more information. If he learns of anything, he will relay it to Hulama.”

  Trusting a yakuza insider to provide the key piece of information that would lead us to Mackenzie seemed like an unwise choice. Not that I’d turn anything away at this point.

  I picked up the note and read the riddle once again.

  The mountains surge to the heavens, the coal runs deep, and the tribe became one. Where am I?

  I looked at Denise. “I think at least one of us needs to follow this riddle. And I think it needs to be me.”

  She clenched her jaw but didn’t immediately respond.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “I want to come with you. I need to come with you.”

  “Do you think that’s wise? I mean, part of me thinks that whoever has her—the yakuza, a splinter group, or some other group—is trying to test our resolve. That could mean us finding this location, or it could mean we sit here and call their bluff. We hurt our chances by having two people in the same place, right?”

  “Maybe,” she said, looking down.

  “I will stay here. Live here at your apartment,” Keo said.

  Denise and I both looked at Keo. I said, “Are you sure? I mean, this isn’t exactly the Four Seasons resort. And this is two hours away from the other side of the island.”

  “But this is your daughter,” he said. “It’s too important. I will stay here. I will let you know if any information is dropped off.”

  I looked to Denise, then back to Keo. “Thank you.”

  “This means a lot, Keo. I can’t tell you how much your help means to me,” Denise said, wiping a tear off her cheek.

  We packed up and made our way to the door. Keo was washing dishes in the kitchen, already in cleanup mode.

  “I’m sorry this place is such a wreck,” Denise said.

  “No worries. I just have to keep my mind busy. It’s either clean or play online golf. I think I’d rather clean.”

  “Hey,” I said. “Be careful. This could be dangerous for you.”

  “No worries. I drove my ghetto car over here, and I have a .357 magnum in it. I’ll bring it inside and just dare anyone to screw with me.” He smiled, his teeth almost glimmering.

  Denise gave him a hug, and I shook his hand.

  As we headed out the door, Keo tapped my shoulder. I did the same to Denise, and we turned around to face him. Keo said, “There is an old Hawaiian proverb that you need to know. A’OHE PU’U KI’EKI’E KE HO’A’O ‘IA E PI’I.”

  I shrugged.

  “It means,” he said, “no cliff is so tall it cannot be climbed.”

  I let those powerful words energize me on the way to the airport.

  16

  The even cadence of the drumbeats outside of his hut could be felt in his chest. He slowly closed his eyes, allowing his mind to find the tranquility required for such an affair. His power to immerse himself in the moment had surprised even himself. He’d once found himself able to match the pace of his heart with the thud of each drumbeat. Who would have thought that the country boy with no advanced education and diagnosed with ADHD could exercise such self-control?

  Control indeed.

  He slipped on the robe he’d worn dozens of times for this meaningful ritual and walked to the threshold of the door. It opened, and he saw the men and women of the tribe part like the Red Sea, giving him a clear path to the pit that crackled and popped with flames at least five feet high.

  The drums beat louder now, and he could feel the energy in the space from the mass of people, as well as the spiritual presence of…Him. That familiar surge was like oxygen. Actually, it was more like the ultimate injection of power. One that bolstered his self-image—that he could not deny. But he knew the responsibility that lay at his feet. It was something that he neither shied away from nor reduced in importance for those who lived within their confines, or even those in the outer world. In due time, everyone who walked the planet would see this ultimate result of their plans. His plan.

  Cecelia appeared to his right, a solemn look on her face. She nodded once to signal everything was in place. He moved one step forward. She leaned
in, whispered in his ear. “The fervor is growing. They are excited but also anxious for the new arrival.”

  His eyes remained focused on the scene at the front of their ritual space.

  She added, “Joseph, you must promise them it will happen soon. We cannot lose this opportunity.”

  “Thy will be done,” he said.

  She stepped aside, allowing Joseph the full command of the group. He methodically made his way down the dirt path. He felt not only the warmth of the fire up ahead but also the many pairs of eyes on him.

  The closer he got to the front, the more the roaring fire drowned out the beat of the drums. The canopy of trees made the dark night even darker, which only presented the flames in a more dramatic fashion. It was one of the reasons this location had been selected. But certainly not the most important.

  He approached the altar set up next to the fire pit and eyed the creature that had already been killed. He picked up the cup of blood from the sacrifice; then he turned and faced the tribe.

  “My friends, we have come together again to celebrate our lives together, to honor those who have made the ultimate sacrifice, and those who will do so in the future.”

  He paused to admire the head nods and warm smiles. He then raised the cup. “As it states in Isaiah, ‘He was oppressed and He was afflicted. Yet He did not open His mouth. Like a lamb that is led to slaughter, and like a sheep that is silent before its shearers. So He did not open His mouth.”

  He then drank from the cup of blood. The crowd clapped, and a few even shouted out in praise. He was fine with this outpouring of affection. In fact, he knew it was infectious for the other men and women to hear this level of support, especially those on the fringe of their movement.

  He set the cup on the altar and grabbed the end of a metal rod, shifting it until the opposite end was over the fire. There were no squeals or desperate pleas—those had been contained to three members of the tribe who’d refused to follow the agreed-upon commandments of the tribe.

  This time, like almost all of the others, they sacrificed a lamb—just as the Bible had stated. He turned and faced his brethren.