The basement was a typical weepy stone foundation and didn’t have windows that you could see through. This was perfect for me. I pitched the tent I’d bought, put the air mattress in and aired it up, then plugged my air heater in before making up my bed.
I stood back admiring my work and ignored the gurgle in my stomach that reminded me I was living like a homeless person again. At least this time I don’t have my mom with me, I thought as an attempt at humor. It fell flat even for me.
I’d luckily thrown my laptop into my car that morning. I plugged it in, and with the data from my phone was able to stream a movie as a way to calm down. After the movie, I turned the hotspot off and played Solitaire on my computer, happy that I didn’t need Internet for that.
I fell asleep shortly after; Solitaire had a tendency to put me to sleep.
I texted Les the next morning and told him I had some business I needed to handle, and then called the security agency Les had referred me to. “I’m going to need to start a day early,” I said to the woman who answered the phone. “I’ve received some threats and without protection, I’m not going to be able to work.”
The woman said she’d do what she could to set it up and would give me a call if she was able to make it happen.
I got a call about half an hour later from a woman who told me she’d been assigned my detail. She told me she needed to do some reconnaissance on the work site before I came out and that she’d send someone to pick me up. I didn’t really trust them or anyone at this point, so I agreed to meet them at the duplex instead of my grandfather’s home.
The woman agreed and I called Les to fill him in.
“Are you sure I can trust these people?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Les replied. “Why? What’s going on?”
“I got a disturbing phone call from my mom. It seems I have a price on my head. I figured that was enough information that I needed to get started early with the security.”
“Did you tell them that you’d been threatened?”
“Yeah, sort of. I trust you Les, but I don’t know these people. I want to get a feel for them in real life before I give everything over to them. Okay?”
“Yeah, but I can promise you these guys have nothing to do with your dad. These are people I personally know, Bennett. If I didn’t think you could trust them, I wouldn’t have recommended them to you.”
“I know, but still you have to understand I have a method to my own madness.”
Les said he was cool with it. I hung up and was just about to go to the duplex when I got a call from my attorney saying the cops were looking for me.
“Shit, what now?” I asked.
The attorney sighed and said someone had trashed my apartment then set it afire. Of course, there were no eyewitnesses.
“Should I call the cops? I thought you told me not to call them.”
“No, you shouldn’t but we do need to go meet them. Can you meet me down at the station? I’d prefer to be there if they interrogate you, but I’d like to get any interrogation out of the way if they intend to do so.”
“Yeah, but I’ve got security I’ve hired. I’m supposed to meet them soon. Even if we’re going to the police station, I prefer to have some protection.”
“I agree. I’ll call the station and set up a time for us to go. I’ll also let them know you have a hired security personnel that will accompany you. Are they armed?” he asked.
“Yeah, we got full detail, so they are armed and highly trained.”
“They’ll need to know that too.” he said, mostly to himself.
He called back about fifteen minutes later and said we had an appointment early that afternoon.
My grandpa’s basement had a musty old shower which I used to clean up in. It wasn’t the nicest restroom I’d ever used, but it was far from the worst.
Afterwards I slipped the nondescript hoodie I bought at Target on over my new jeans and t-shirt. After leaving my car parked in the dilapidated garage next to the old house, I walked the ten or so blocks to the duplex. I stayed out of sight for a while watching the security detail as they came up to the home, met Mrs. Cooper then came back to their vehicle. I waited to see if my inner warning bells went off and luckily they didn’t, because the woman looked directly at me, smiled, and walked my way.
When she got close to me, she leaned back against the fence acting like she was searching the perimeter and said, “So, you know a little about disappearing, I see.”
“How’d you know it was me?” I asked.
She chuckled but then acted like she was talking in her earpiece. “You were homeless, right? So, when a man your height showed up in new clothes a homeless person might wear, it was pretty clear it was probably you.”
“So much for being clever.” I shrugged.
“Oh, it would’ve fooled your average bad guy, but I’m a Marine who worked briefly for the CIA before going private.”
“Impressive, so does it look like anyone suspicious is in the vicinity?” I asked.
“Nope, no one that I’ve spotted.”
“Good.” I said and reached out to shake her hand. “I’m Bennett Jackson, as you already know, and you are?”
“Sandra Inman,” she said. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. But if you don’t mind, I’d prefer not to be this exposed until we are absolutely sure there are no spying eyes.”
I nodded and she followed me across the street and into the duplex where Mrs. Cooper was practicing her drill sergeant skills on the four men who’d been assigned to her yesterday. I chuckled as the men all but quaked in their boots.
I introduced Sandra to Mrs. Cooper who eyed her suspiciously and, in her Boston twang said they’d already met. I could tell Sandra hadn’t made an impression on the woman. Sandra didn’t seem to take offense, however.
“Do you have a place where we could talk privately?” She asked me within hearing range from where Mrs. Cooper was eavesdropping on us.
I smiled. “Sure, the basement is still rather secluded. Are you going to invite the other guy in?”
Sandra shook her head. “No, he’s not the social type. But he’s the best at sniffing out trouble. We call him Bloodhound and only a handful of us know his real name. For the most part, he’ll be hanging out and watching our backs.”
“You need Bentley.” Mrs. Cooper said behind me and made a face at Sandra.
“He’s certainly one of the best,” the woman said to Mrs. Cooper, “and he may help out some, but he doesn’t usually work in this part of the country. He tends to work more with the political crowd these days anyway.”
Mrs. Cooper hmphed but said, “Well, I think he should be doing this himself and you can tell him I said so. Not like he doesn’t owe us.” she added under her breath.
She looked at me then and her eyes softened. “If Bentley thinks she can do it,” she said emphasizing the word as if it tasted bad in her mouth, “then I suspect it’ll be okay. You can trust her.” She looked at Sandra and said, “But I’m personally taking offense to Bentley not being directly involved.” Then she walked off.
I had to bite my tongue not to smile. When Mrs. Cooper walked out of hearing range I asked, “What did you do to piss her off?”
“Invaded her territory. Don’t worry, it’s par for the course.” Sandra replied.
“What did she say when she answered the door earlier?”
“After I asked if you were here, she told me it wasn’t any of my business and to go back home.”
I did smile then; This just made me like Mrs. Cooper more than I already did.
I showed Sandra where the basement was and after we were confident we were out of prying ears, I told her about the death threats from my dad and how my mother had called telling me I was in danger. When I told her my apartment was ransacked and burned and that I had an appointment at the police station in an hour, she looked concerned.
“I’m glad you pulled us in a day early. If my boss had known this was going on, he�
�d have had us out earlier.”
“None of us knew how serious it was. My father’s always been dangerous, but he hasn’t come after me in a long time.”
“Well, we’ll want to hear everything in detail before we are done. But for now, I’d like to get to the police station and do some surveillance before you go in.”
I nodded then said, “I left my car...somewhere safe, so I can’t drive us there.”
“The Sedan out front is equipped with bullet proof sidewalls and glass. Until we’re confident you aren’t in danger, you’ll need to ride with us anyway.”
I sighed. “My life isn’t going to be my own for a while, is it?”
Sandra had the good nature to look sad. “No. If you’re in danger, and it certainly sounds like you are, then you’ll have to let us take the lead.”
I sighed but nodded my affirmation. My only line of defense was to act homeless and she’d seen right through that in a matter of moments. I needed protection beyond what I could do for myself.
I rode to the police station with Sandra and the Bloodhound, who had yet to say a word to me. I was told to stay in the car while they did their surveillance. It wasn’t a bad setup. The windows were tinted, and the car felt more like what I thought a limo would feel like, although I’d never personally been in one.
I played with my phone after I got bored with watching my two new bodyguards do surveillance on the police station. To me, the two just appeared to be wandering around lost.
They returned about fifteen minutes before I had to go in.
“You need to call your attorney and tell him you aren’t safe to go in,” she said. “there are at least three suspicious vehicles in the vicinity, and we aren’t sure you would be safe even if we flank you.”
“Really?” I asked. “Which cars are suspicious?”
Sandra was about to point them out when I got a call from my attorney, I put it on speaker so they could hear the conversation.
“Change of plans,” the attorney said. “The FBI are now involved with the case and they said the police station isn’t safe. You’re to come to their headquarters.” He gave me the address by the downtown library. I knew exactly where it was.
Sandra looked at me when the attorney hung up and asked if I thought the attorney was trustworthy.
“No idea. I still don’t know if I can trust you or not, but here I am in your car.”
Sandra smiled. “Here’s a secret: if we were hired assassins, you’d already be dead.”
I nodded, but what she said got stuck in my throat and I was having a hard time swallowing it.
We drove toward downtown and after we navigated the excruciating Seattle traffic, we finally arrived.
The Bloodhound didn’t park in the garage as the attorney had instructed us, but rather on a side street that went alongside the library. Sandra got out of her side of the car, dusted herself off looking much like a frustrated housewife, put change in the meter and came over to talk to the Bloodhound.
After they chatted about nothing, she leaned back and laughed like he’d just told her a joke. He got out of the car pulled her into a kiss and when he shut the door, they walked away toward the FBI building.
This time, the show was a lot more fun to watch. They were fully acting like the amorous couple as they wandered around the streets. I was watching carefully and almost missed that they were both doing serious surveillance.
When they came back and got into the car, Sandra told me to call the attorney and ask him to meet us here.
I tried to call him a few times, but he didn’t answer.
The Bloodhound pulled away from the curb and drove toward Puget Sound. Sandra made a phone call and I could hear that she was telling someone from her company what they were doing. Within a few moments, she got confirmation that the FBI had indeed wanted to see me and that someone was going out to check on my attorney.
When we got a call back, it wasn’t a good one. The FBI had found my attorney tied up and unconscious in the trunk of his car. The FBI office wasn’t easily accessible from the garage he directed us to and it was assumed that it was a ploy to get me to the garage so someone could kidnap me, or worse.
“Is the attorney going to live?” I asked.
Sandra shrugged, “They didn’t share that much information. What they did share though was that they needed to speak to you. We’ll be doing that at our offices though, in Edmond.”
“It’s going to take two hours to get to Edmond this time of day.” I said, suddenly feeling exhausted.
“Yep, but if it takes us that long, we’ll be able to see if anyone is following us.”
I nodded and sat back, accepting the fact that I was stuck with my new bodyguards and hoping with all my heart that I hadn’t been stupid to trust them.
Luckily, my fears were alleviated when we finally arrived at a makeshift office in the little suburb north of Seattle. Relief washed over me when I noticed Les’ rental car parked in the parking lot. I’d only been to Edmonds a couple times, but I thought the little town was cute and quaint. I could tell why they’d chosen this space too, because it was on the lower level of a complex and the sight lines were clear all the way around the office. I decided not to tell Sandra who the car belonged to even after I noticed she was regarding it suspiciously.
The bloodhound stayed with me this time while Sandra got out and headed into the office. She walked in with confidence and didn’t even look at the car. I thought that was clever as I’m sure in her shoes, I’d have gawked at it trying to figure out if it was dangerous or not.
Sandra came out a few minutes later and after searching the area, she waved at us.
The Bloodhound got out of the vehicle and did his own search as well before opening my door. I got out and followed Sandra into the building. The Bloodhound stayed back, apparently watching our backs as Sandra had alluded to earlier in the day.
I was instantly relieved to see Les standing next to his father and a very large, intimidating man. He greeted Sandra with a wink, and she nodded her greeting.
I had an overwhelming desire to rush into Les’ arms, but held back unsure of what was going on.
Les came over to me and put his hands on each side of my face and asked if I was okay. I shook my head and didn’t respond out loud. Les put his arm around me and I snuggled in, thankful for the connection with someone I felt safe with.
“Bennett, you’ve met Sandra, my cousin. This is her father, Bentley Cummings.”
The earlier conversation with Mrs. Cooper suddenly made more sense; there was some sort of family feud going on.
I reached out and shook the man’s incredibly huge hand.
Bentley immediately pointed to a table in the adjoining room and asked us all to come sit down. When we were all seated, he dismissed Sandra, asking her to go keep an eye on the perimeter.
He regarded me for a moment, apparently sizing me up and probably trying to figure out how to speak to me in a way that I’d understand. I didn’t say anything but maintained eye contact with the man while I waited for him to speak.
“Mr. Jackson, I’m glad you contacted us and wish I’d known earlier how much danger you were in. Unfortunately, there’s significantly more going on here than we came prepared for.” He leaned back in the enormous chair that barely fit his muscular frame and crossed his arms. “I spoke to the FBI this afternoon right after they found your attorney bound, tied, and drugged in the trunk of his car. Luckily, they found him early enough and were able to administer enough Narcan to counteract the lethal injection of heroin someone had plied him with. Of course, I doubt whoever had injected him expected he’d be found in time to be saved. He woke up about an hour ago and has given a visual description of the perps who drugged him. Fortunately, the local police knew exactly who he was describing but they are low on the totem pole, so to speak. Both men have been apprehended and are currently hanging onto life. It seems they had been injected with the same lethal dose of heroin your attorney was. I doubt th
ey are going to be much help even if they recover.”
“I guess I’m confused. Why would my dad want to kill me this bad? What’s in it for him?”
The large man regarded me a few moments and said, “This is far bigger than your dad, son. Although he’s most certainly in the thick of it.”
He stood up and paced around the front of the room. He ran his hand through his thick hair and said, “You have caused some really bad people a lot of problems. And as a result, they want to exact revenge on you.”
“What exactly have I done? How?” I asked, completely confused at what was going on.
“Well, to begin with, you got their errand boy arrested and blew his cover.”
“How… who?” I stammered, causing the big man to chuckle.
“I know it’s confusing lad, but I need you to follow. Your handler, Frank...or did they call him your master? I get confused what names these groups call each other these days. Anyway, Frank was supposed to use you as a scapegoat for his activities. When things got out of control, he was supposed to pin any crimes that came up on you. From what I can tell, that’s why they stashed the heroin in your attic.”
“Oh shit, was that why they killed the realtor? …was she about to find it?”
“Not exactly,” Bentley said. “she was in on it too. I’m guessing she was about to steal the stash and sell it on the street.”
“No way!” I said. “she was so...put together.”
“Hardly, she was a drug runner. Not much higher on the totem pole than Frank.”
“Tell me again about Frank, I’m confused. What’s an errand boy?”
The guy sat back down again and looked over at me. “He was a hitman. His job was to clean up after someone in the organization stepped out of line. He was also the person they used to pass the buck onto innocent civilians when a crime had been committed. He was the handler.”
“Fuck,” I said and put my head into my hands. “so I’m the one they planned to pin stuff on as a scapegoat then?”
I peered up and the man’s face was grim, but he nodded.
Romantic Renovations Page 14
