"Twenty five grand in those fifties," Sammy said.
Don nodded.
"Would have been tough for me to turn that in," Sammy said.
"Not you, Sammy. You're a straight arrow, you would've done the same thing," Don said.
"Yeah, but it still would've been hard," he sighed. "You and me are both the same... I think that's what happened to the kid. Temptation. There all at once. Something he must've saw in the cars," Sammy asked.
"Positive of it," Don agreed quietly.
"Temptation's a bitch. I'm sure the kid just folded. Sometimes it's hard to walk away, even when you know you should."
Sammy nodded and glanced back up at the mess in the hallway.
Don's own cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pants pocket. "Yeah?" he answered. He listened and then pulled out his note pad and began to write. "Slow, slower," he said. "I guess all the information comes at one time," he whispered to Sammy. He wrote as he listened, watching the techs work the hallway.
Fort Deposit Alabama
Billy Jingo
Sunday afternoon.
They were parked in a rest area just off I 65.
"Did you believe him?" Billy asked.
April shrugged. "He sounded real. It's the right name. He knew your name. He didn't know my name, but he knew I was here. I told him my name was Annie. I figured it was close enough. I figured if he said he thought it was April I could fake it. He didn't. He didn't even hesitate when he said Annie, or if he did, I didn't catch it. I just don't know. He even said he was a little spooked by not being able to reach Rich himself. He told me we could call it all off if we wanted to. He doesn't want us to, but he said he would understand. Would someone trying to set a trap try to push us away? I wouldn't think so, baby, but I don't know. Even so, something about it has got me bugged big time," April finished.
"I can't see Richie setting us up. But I also can't see Richie not answering his phone either." He looked at the map. "Let's find a motel... Kill some time... It looks," he traced the route down I 65 with his finger and compared it to the scale. "Maybe six, seven hours to go and we'll be in Mobile. If we crash for the rest of the day, get some sleep, we can leave at midnight and be there early tomorrow morning. I don't wanna get there at night, or come in at night."
April nodded. "We should get another vehicle as soon as we get there too. I like this truck, but it's too hard to maneuver in tight places. We need a car. Something fast so we can get away if we need too."
"We'll look, let's go to Mississippi," he traced a route with his finger. "We could rent a car and a room in Pascagoula. That's maybe an hour drive from Mobile. We'll leave the Suburban somewhere there; maybe we can leave it in the airport's long-term lot, something like that. That will allow us to cruise by the meeting place tonight. We'll call him back, tell him we'll be a little late, sometime early tomorrow morning. We'll ask for the directions to the place now. That will give us some level of protection. About the best we can do," Billy said.
"That makes sense," April said. "But we still call it off if it feels wrong tomorrow morning, right?"
"Absolutely. If we wake up tomorrow and get a bad feeling, we just take the car back and head for Mexico," Billy agreed.
"All right," April said. She leaned forward and kissed him. "Call him." She handed him the phone.
Watertown
Sammy and Don
"Okay... We know it was a drug deal, but there's word on the street, not our streets, Manhattan, that it was a deal between Tommy Murphy and Jefferson Prescott that went bad. A couple of million dollars in cocaine, heroin, and some high grade pot thrown in for good measure. And I mean their prices, and that means that not only were the drugs there, but the money was there too," Don said.
"Holy shit, no wonder so many people are getting dead," Sammy said.
"Yeah," Don agreed. "There's a contract out on both of them, Billy and April. They don't care how they get them either, so long as they get the money and drugs back."
"And let me guess, if they're admitting to a few million dollars it's probably a lot more, right?" Sammy asked.
"No doubt," Don looked at his notes. "They found the kids truck in Rochester. Wrecked into a house and burned out. Three local gang bangers roasted inside the truck. The rumors say a chase and shootout prior to that, two white kids in a Jeep. Some say two guys, some say a guy and a girl," he read from his notes.
"So the gang bangers steal the truck somehow?" Sammy asked.
Don shrugged. "The dead guy in the Ford, missing the top of his head? Benjamin Neo?" Don asked.
"Yeah?" Sammy said.
"Fake name... Real name's... Rustle Roberts. Funny thing is, other than an arrest twenty years ago for an assault charge, he has absolutely no record under that name. Doesn't own anything. Hasn't paid taxes. Nothing. Benjamin Neo on the other hand owns three homes, two in Rochester, one in Barbados."
Don raised his eyebrows.
"Hot," Sammy said.
"And guess what, yesterday he bought himself a brand new GMC Suburban. I mean top of the line, over sixty grand for the price tag," Don said.
"Our two?" Sammy asked.
Don shook his head. "The salesman swears the guy was Benjamin Neo. No girl with him. Said the guy had ID."
"Not hard if they took it from the car," Sammy interjected.
Don nodded. "There's an APB out on the Suburban, but we also got the Jeep that April Evans bought. Hasn't been a single sighting, but it sounds like the Jeep that was involved in the thing in Rochester."
"So why did they each buy vehicles?" Sammy asked.
"Well, it's a day apart in different states. They bought the Suburban in Ohio, Cleveland... Maybe the Jeep was damaged in the thing in Rochester, so they had to ditch it," Don shrugged. "The thing is, with Murphy and Prescott gunning for them they won't last long. Gang intelligence in Rochester says the shootout was probably motivated by the drugs and the money."
"You think they knew?" Sammy asked.
"Yeah. The word's out there. It's a big reward. Plus a direct in with two of the biggest names in the dope business. Whoever finds them can probably write their own ticket." Don looked toward the hallway, where the techs were cutting out sections of the carpet. At least the bodies we're gone, he saw with relief. "That's probably what most of this was all about," Don finished.
"We wouldn't even know this if not for the missing paper boy," Sammy said. “The kid's route manager called when he found the kids bag in the driveway early this morning abandoned. Fresh blood on the pavement, despite the light rain that had fallen earlier had him worried. First responder looked through the front window and all hell broke loose.”
"And the paper boy's not here. And I don't know how to read that. The drug unit says Richard Dean has a BMW, but it isn't here, and there isn't one registered to him in his name. Or his Ex's name. Or the girlfriend's name. I even checked the oldest daughter. Nada. They think they have a surveillance tape that might have the plate number. But they're not too hopeful. If it was there they would've already gotten it and had it in their files. So I had jenny put out a description of it from their files. Best I could do, but we have no idea who might be driving it. And no proof that it was used in the crime. So it's not statewide. Probably won't be either," Don said.
"Anything on the head, the hands and the... appendage in the bag?" Sammy asked.
Don nodded. "Carlos Sanchez. Fingerprints from the one good hand still in the bag. Long record. And surprise, surprise, he was Jefferson Prescott's right hand man. Not a clue why most of him is gone or what the, uh... appendage was doing in there."
"So we don't know where anybody is. We know that Billy had something going on with Rich. He called. I doubt he'll call back. The cops have searched all three of Neo's places. Sanchez' too. Nothing and nothing. No bodies.” He flipped a page in his notebook.
“The two women, the DB in the garage and the girl out there at the state park. But they were both low key so there wasn't likely to be anything
there and there wasn't. And, anyway, nothing was found anywhere," Don said. He sighed, closed the cover of his notebook, rubbed at his temples, and then slipped the notebook back into his shirt pocket. "I Gotta have a smoke, Sammy." He walked through the short hallway and out of the house. There were neighbors out on their lawns watching the show. Don walked around back and Sammy followed him. He stopped out of sight and lit up.
"This is a fuckin' mess, Sammy. And we don't even know where those kids are. Not even a rumor that's solid, although the route looks-if it was really them that bought the suburban in Ohio-the route looks to be south, but that's really a wild guess." He sucked in the smoke, felt the familiar ache in his lungs and ignored it.
"It's fucked up all right," Sammy agreed. "While you were on the phone I talked to Jenny. That Alice girl from the Shop and Stock was raped. I asked Dennis, he said it looks like all three of the women here were also raped. No anything from Alice's body. He had to have used a condom. No ID in the car, but two good sets of prints. So far nothing on them though. And we don't know if the car had anything to do with this, but we think it did with the girl. They're doing tire impressions out at the campground... Looks like a match though," Sammy said.
"I thought Jenny was off until tomorrow?" Don said.
"We're drawing attention. This is a major crime wave for here. The mayor's taking a lot a shit. Everybody's in and working for us. I mean the overtime overfloweth. That's what I was told anyway. Same goes for us, just turn the hours in," Sammy said.
"It's about time. They should've done it two days ago," Don said.
Sammy nodded. "Better late than never," he said.
Don sighed deeply and nodded. “Last thing.”
“Eh?” Sammy asked.
“A rumor, something the crime boys picked up, a rumor that there's more than just the drugs and the cash at stake. Something else that was sent along with it.” He shrugged.
“Nothing concrete about what it was?” Sammy asked.
“Nothing... Just an intercept on a phone tap on some low key bookmaker in Rochester. Something about the high grade pot that was sent along.”
Sammy nodded. “Something new maybe? I mean, we've seen it before... The body parts? This Carlos? Maybe there was a deeper reason for Prescott's number one man to wind up in pieces in a bag.” he shrugged helplessly.
Don nodded but said nothing.
Mobile
Jimmy West
Sunday night:
Jimmy sat alone in the guitar shop. He wasn't all that good at planning things on the cuff. But he had just hung up from talking to the kid and setting up the meet for tomorrow morning. Right here at Ronnie Lee's guitar shop.
He had heard back from Tommy. The cops were now looking for the suburban too. He'd told the kid to ditch it. That's just the way it went, Jimmy told himself. Sometimes you drew the dumb half-ass cop who went through the motions, other times you drew the worker. They had drawn the worker. Hopefully the kid would heed his warning about the truck. He'd told the kid he had a friend who had a friend, like that. And he had described the truck and told him the license number.
He could see that souring the whole deal, but if the cops picked them up that would also sour the whole deal. In fact, that would be the end of everything. So it was worth the risk to tip off the kid. No money, no drugs, no top secret military weapon that might or might not allow you to live forever.
If the kid was caught the cops would know the whole thing then. And Jimmy's ass would be out in the wind. He had no doubt that Tommy would have him killed. None at all. But he had absolutely no intention of turning any of it over to Tommy: Once he got it he was gone. Long gone. Tommy would never find him. Jefferson either. He might keep the girl alive for a while. She was supposed to be a looker. He'd take the kid out fast. He owed him that. He was a dumb fuck, but a ballsy dumb fuck. He had to hand it to him, for making the play. So he'd do him quick. A little honor returned, he thought.
He stared out the big front window at the nearly empty parking lot. Tonight sometime, he was nearly sure. They would come here. They would cruise by to take a look. He would if it was him. And Jimmy would be ready when they did.
Mississippi
Billy Jingo
"He could be lying," Billy said.
"Maybe so, but if nothing else, he knows what we're driving and even the license number. That alone is a reason to lose the Suburban," April said.
"I thought we did so well," Billy said.
"We did. Apparently the cops wanted Ben Neo, or us. It's just the way it went," April said.
They were in Mississippi. They had stopped and called after they had traveled all the way across three states and part of another with an APB out on the truck and hadn't even known it. They had seen cop cars several times, but not a single one had bothered them. If Ronnie Lee was telling the truth, they had been extremely lucky.
"Okay," Billy said. "We can't use any ID's that we have. Me, you, Neo or even Sanchez, because there's no way you can make me look Spanish... How about," he pulled the other set of ID's out that he had taken from the wrecked Toyota. One of the black duffel bags, the one that didn't have a surprise in it, he reminded himself as he took the ID out of his wallet. "Dan Gaynor," Billy said. He held the driver's license photo up to his face.
"Maybe," April said. She turned her head one way, then the other. "We'll need some stuff though." She looked around the parking lot that they were in. She spotted a drug store and turned back to him. "I'll be right back," she said.
Billy kissed her and she jumped out and headed across the parking lot. He sat, the window rolled down, waiting, when another Suburban rolled in next to his. Same color, lifted, a few years older. The old guy driving it gave him the thumbs up and walked over after he parked. His wife stood nearby him. "Brand new?" he asked.
"Yeah," Billy said.
"I'm thinking of a new one soon. Trading in, but the price tag is rough," he said.
"Yeah," Billy agreed. "But with the rebates, incentives, it knocked a big chunk right off the top. Plus I paid cash so I got an even better deal." Billy lied.
"Jesus Christ, boy, I don't know anyone that carries that kind of money around," the old guy said.
"I don't carry that much around, but I work off shore. It's just me and my girlfriend. It's easy to save the money," Billy told him. He had watched a documentary not long ago about an offshore oil crew.
The old man nodded. "Make it while you're young, kid. Believe me the age catches up to you."
His wife had waited for him for a few minutes, but now started toward the store on her own.
"Well I guess I better get, before I find myself in deep shit with the old lady. Nice truck, kid." He grinned and turned away.
Billy watched him until he was inside the store, then he climbed out with a screwdriver and switched plates as quickly as he could. He wondered whether the old man would notice right away or not. The plates were different. He just hoped that April came back out before the old guy did.
He lit a cigarette, inhaled, and let the smoke roll slowly out of his mouth. He'd seen the license plate thing in a movie, but he'd never done it before. With all the cameras there were these days, he wouldn't be surprised if one had caught him in the act, but they never checked on those cameras unless some serious crime happened, so he should be okay.
The old man and his wife came back first. Billy was nervous, but it turned out to be for nothing. The old man waved, climbed up into his truck and drove away. April came out a few minutes later.
He told her about the old man and switching the plates as she worked on his face. Twenty minutes later she showed him what she had done, and he was surprised how closely his face matched the face on the license.
"People don't realize that it's usually only a few key things that people see when they look at someone: If you can duplicate a few of those things you're good." April said.
"Where did you learn to do this though?" Billy asked as he started the truck and pulled out of the
lot.
"School. We had a whole segment on identity theft. Two cops came in and talked to us. They showed us how it's done. I mean they weren't showing us so that we could do it, but I understood it and it interested me. I paid attention. They even showed us a video where they made an older policewoman look like a teenager. I mean you wouldn't have known it was the same woman," April said. She looked at the street they were cruising down. A used car lot was coming up on the left. A line of cars graced the cracked street facing lot. "How about there?" she asked.
The place looked a little tacky. "Santiago’s Buy Here Pay Here," a sign proclaimed.
"That Camaro would do if it's an eight," Billy agreed. He was eyeing a Camaro parked in the spotlights in front of all the other cars.
They spent a half hour dickering for the Camaro. It was late, Sunday night, but they had cash, so the young guy stayed to close the deal past the normal closing time. For an extra fifty bucks, he sold them an inspection sticker. "I don't suppose that you got a set of plates hanging around back there too, do you?" Billy had asked half joking.
"A hundred bucks," the young guy had said. "Clean. No problem... Need a fake insurance card?" he asked.
In the end, Billy slipped a kid an extra 500 bucks to make the car look legal. Plates, paperwork, insurance and title.
"You do this every day?" Billy asked.
"Fuck, man. I don't get paid shit. You gotta have a hustle, you know? This is mine. I can get it painted for you too... Cheap. Real cheap. Nice, fast too."
"No, I... What about my Suburban?" Billy asked.
"Yeah... I could get that done," the kid said.
Billy stopped and turned around. "See the bank man... The repo-guy," Billy shrugged. "A different color... Maybe bigger tires... A lift... Plates of course... Make it seem to be a different truck, you know?" Billy asked.
"You fuckin' serious, man?" the young guy asked. "Ese, I can get it done. But not now, today. It'll take a couple of days... Cost... Maybe two grand... Maybe a little less, a little more... If you're serious." He looked at Billy and tried to judge whether he was having him on or not.
Earth's Survivors Box Set [Books 1-7] Page 157
