A Man Of Respect

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A Man Of Respect Page 11

by Remington Kane


  “Hurry up!” Taylor growled at the doctor.

  Six minutes after entering the clinic, Taylor and Wicks were headed back to the truck. Hendricks slid up the rear door for them, then climbed behind the wheel. As he left the curb, the faint sound of a siren reached their ears. They had cut it close.

  They were back on the highway and blending into traffic as Jen looked over the items they’d brought her. To say that the supplies were inadequate was an understatement; however, Taylor and Wicks had provided the key item that she’d hoped they would. It was a powerful sedative. Not only would it ease Stepp’s suffering, but if she got the chance to use it, Jen could drug her captors and escape.

  “Where are we headed?” Wicks asked Hendricks.

  “I know a place where we can crash. It’s an old house that a buddy of mine uses for a hunting cabin. There should be no one around this time of year.”

  “Is it in the middle of nowhere?” Wicks asked.

  “No, but there are only a few old ranches and farms around it. No one will know we’re there.”

  “It sounds like what we need,” Wicks said, before taking a gulp from the whisky bottle. Twenty minutes later he was passed out on the floor of the truck and snoring.

  22

  From Bad To Worse

  After arriving in Texas the following day, Tanner and Stark read about Dr. Jennifer Mao’s disappearance and suspected a connection with the home invasion team.

  Meanwhile, the police were inclined to believe that Jen’s absence was caused by her boyfriend, Mike Roumell. Roumell was seen arguing with Jen in public and the drama had been captured by a teen’s cell phone camera in the Walmart parking lot. Roumell’s rough treatment of Jen, the gripping of both her arms and the vicious shaking of her, spoke of the potential he had to become violent.

  The scene at Jen’s home, inside her garage, told of a struggle taking place. She had left behind her pocketbook, phone, and wallet.

  Meanwhile, Roumell’s alibi was that he was with his best friend at the time. The friend, Greg Dispenza, told investigators that he and Roumell watched a ball game, then sat around and talked about women. No one else could corroborate this story.

  Roumell looked good as a suspect in Jen’s disappearance. This caused FBI Agent Eriksen to disregard the idea that Jen could have been abducted by Wicks and his gang. She believed that one of the group’s men must have died from the gunshot wound received during the raid on the Dwyer’s home. A dead man has no need for a doctor, unless one wanted him autopsied.

  Tanner was of a different opinion and thought it likely that Wicks and his crew grabbed up Dr. Jennifer Mao. He became more convinced after Caleb found the story about the clinic being robbed.

  “They took this woman to treat their friend. If he dies, or if they don’t need her anymore, they might kill her.”

  Tanner and Caleb were inside a family restaurant in Laredo and having breakfast. Along with the meal, they had business to attend to. Joe Pullo had arranged for Tanner to meet with a member of the Texas mob so that he could acquire more weapons. Tanner was armed of course, but Caleb wasn’t, and Tanner also wanted a shotgun. The man they were there to meet was set to arrive in twenty minutes.

  “How do we track them down, any ideas?” Caleb asked.

  “No, except…”

  “Yeah?”

  “If we believe Sherry Wicks, then these men are from here in Texas. It’s likely that they’ll travel back to the area that they know best.”

  “You mean they’ll go home to Peaksville?”

  “Not likely, but they will need shelter, so maybe they’ll seek out a friend, or stay somewhere they know that’s in the territory they’re familiar with. You said Sherry Wicks talked a lot about her husband. Think about what she said, maybe you’ll hit on an idea of where to find them.”

  “And in the meantime?”

  “I want to make sure that we’re not going down a wrong path by believing they’ve kidnapped the doctor.”

  Caleb smiled. “You want to question the boyfriend the cops suspect?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That would have been my next move too.”

  “Great minds think alike,” Tanner said.

  The mob member Tanner was set to meet showed up on time and drove his dark-blue BMW to the rear of the parking lot. As they walked over to the car, Tanner told Caleb to stand away from him and to the side of the car.

  “Why?”

  “Just a precaution, in case there’s someone inside the trunk waiting to ambush us.”

  “You really think that’s a possibility?”

  “It’s not likely but it’s possible, and a little precaution and paranoia has kept me alive more than once.”

  “It’s not easy being you, is it, Cody? I mean, knowing someone is always out to kill you.”

  “It’s easier being me than it is being them—they die.”

  The mob soldier was a young guy of no more than twenty-two. When Tanner approached him, the kid bowed his head.

  “Hello, Don Tanner.”

  Tanner frowned. “I’m not a Don, kid. I’m not even Italian.”

  The guy used his hands as he spoke, gesticulating wildly as he offered an apology.

  “I meant no offense, Mr. Tanner, but word has spread about your new… position?”

  “It’s not a position, it’s a title, but nevermind that, let’s see what you’ve got.”

  The kid opened the trunk and Tanner was pleased by the assortment he’d brought along. He claimed an Atchisson assault shotgun for himself, while Caleb took a Glock Model .45. After he’d paid the kid, along with a tip, the young hoodlum smiled at Tanner.

  “It was nice doing business with you, and happy hunting.”

  Tanner nodded. Hunting was what they were doing, and Wicks and his crew were the prey.

  Hendricks’ proposed hideout turned out to be a regular two-story home that was in need of repair. He explained that the owner inherited the property and didn’t intend to sink a dime into it.

  “Craig tried renting it out, then attempted to sell it, and got no takers, so now he uses it for a hunting lodge and lists it as an office on his tax returns. He said between the business deduction and the property taxes he breaks even.”

  Upon their arrival, Wicks had stood in place, weaving, as he stepped from the truck and looked the home over. He was so drunk he had trouble getting his eyes to focus.

  “Does the roof leak?” he slurred.

  Taylor had taken him by the arm and helped him up the steps. “Let’s get you inside before you pass out again, Roy.”

  Wicks laughed. “I can hold my liquor.”

  “Sure,” Taylor said.

  Behind them, Hendricks was prodding Jen forward, as inside the truck, Stepp was unconscious. Jen had given Darren Stepp a strong sedative along with a pain reliever.

  Entry into the house was achieved by a swift kick to the front door, which broke its cheap lock and cracked the glass in the door’s top panel. The home was full of old furniture and had a musty odor. For heat, there was a fireplace. It was doubtful they would need it, as the temperature and humidity in the area was high. The electric wasn’t on. Light would have to come from the battery-powered lanterns placed throughout the house. Fortunately, there was running water.

  After leaving Wicks to keep an eye on Jen, Hendricks and Taylor returned to the truck to gather up Stepp. Stepp’s color was a chalky white from all the blood he had lost. Jen’s persistent pleas to take him to a hospital continued to be ignored.

  Once Stepp was laid out atop the kitchen table, Jen was able to assess his wound again. The bleeding had slowed; however, using the instruments the crew had stolen from the clinic, she was able to determine that the slug had split into two fragments.

  “I’ll say it again; this man needs to be in a hospital.”

  “Can you remove those fragments or not?” Taylor asked.

  “Yes, but I can’t be certain that I can stop the bleeding. He should also be recei
ving blood.”

  “Do your best,” Taylor had told her.

  FOURTEEN HOURS LATER

  It seemed that Jen’s best was enough to keep Stepp alive. He looked ghastly, but he was breathing, and the bleeding had stopped.

  As for Jen, she was confined to an airless powder room that had no windows. It was warm and humid, and with no air-conditioning, or even a fan, the small room was stifling.

  Since there was no lock on the outside of the door, Taylor and Hendricks had shoved furniture in front of the room to keep her inside. If she wanted to leave the small space, she could free herself, but the noise would alert someone. Jen was allowed out when it was time to eat, and also to check on Stepp.

  Taylor returned from buying breakfast at a fast food restaurant and handed Jen a sandwich made from bacon, egg, and cheese on a bun. Jen removed the bacon and began eating. They were in the living room, where Stepp was asleep on the sofa, as he recovered from his surgery.

  Wicks wasn’t eating, he was off in one of the bedrooms with a nasty hangover.

  The night before, dinner had consisted of more fast food, which had been fried chicken. At Wicks’ insistence, Taylor had stopped at a liquor store for more whisky. Not only had Wicks insisted, he had also threatened to kick Taylor’s ass if he came back empty-handed.

  Jen didn’t know what Wicks was like when he was sober, but the drunker he got the nastier he became. She hoped that Taylor and Hendricks never left her alone with the man.

  While Taylor was at the liquor store, he purchased a twelve pack of beer to help wash the food down. Since it was the only thing to drink, Jen sipped on a warm can of the brew as she ate. A noise came from deeper in the house. Wicks was up and moving about.

  Wicks had shoved open the window inside the bedroom he’d taken. His head felt better, but he’d begun drinking again. Staring out at the greenery, he thought about his youth. When he was a kid, he often took off from home and lived in the woods for days, once it was as long as three weeks. After he returned home, his father had looked unhappy to see him, and his words had stung Wicks.

  “Shit, I thought you had run away for good.”

  Wicks had never liked his father, the damn drunk, and now he was turning into the man. After draining the bottle of whisky he had started on that morning, Wicks gazed out at the greenery again, as he remembered his childhood.

  Thinking of his father made him remember the man’s ending, and the act of suicide that took his father’s life. Jeffrey Wicks had placed his gun in his mouth while in the garage and left no suicide note behind; he hadn’t needed to. Wicks understood why his father killed himself, he had lost all hope. Better to die young than to suffer through an endless number of years while growing old and feeble.

  Wicks thought of the woman he’d killed, the old woman, Marlene Dwyer, then he remembered the look of horror on Jean Mulberry’s face when she realized she couldn’t move her legs. He had killed one woman and paralyzed another, not to mention the old man he’d slain.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  It was the booze, the whisky. His ex-wife, Sherry, she always said it made him meaner than a mule. This was despite the fact that she herself often drank too much. He had laid off the stuff at her insistence when they were married, then started drinking again when the plant closed, and the town came apart. He knew he’d never have the strength or the will to stop drinking again.

  Wicks looked over at the dresser. Laying on its surface was his gun and a fresh bottle of whisky. One of them was going into his mouth.

  After walking over to the dresser, Wicks’ hand hovered over the gun. In his mind, he imagined pulling the trigger while sucking on the barrel.

  Maybe someday, Wicks thought, as he unscrewed the cap on the fresh bottle of liquor.

  “I’ve got bad news,” Taylor told Hendricks. “We’ve been identified.”

  “How?”

  “That damn footlocker. We left it behind at the house after Stepp was shot. There were prints on it.”

  “I never touched the thing, so how can they have my name?”

  “You and I are listed as ‘persons of interest’ but we both know what that means. Someone probably told the Feds that the four of us were tight.”

  Hendricks tossed his half-eaten sandwich back onto the coffee table in disgust.

  “Since the police know who you are, can we please take your friend to a hospital?” Jen asked.

  “It’s more dangerous now than before,” Taylor said. “Once I heard over the radio that they knew who we were, I felt like everyone was looking at me. I’m sure they’re showing our pictures on the news.”

  “You’re risking your friend’s life, you know that, don’t you?”

  Taylor tossed his head in Stepp’s direction. “Go check on him, Doc.”

  Jen released a sigh, grabbed up the medical supplies, and moved over to the sofa on the other side of the room.

  As Taylor and Hendricks talked over their options, Jen tended to Stepp. His pulse was weak. She wasn’t sure if he would recover in a few days or die at any moment. And if he survived, an infection might take his life. He had lost so much blood she was surprised he hadn’t died already.

  Taylor and Hendricks stood. As they opened the door to step outside, Taylor turned and issued a warning to Jen.

  “We’re going to be right on the porch. If you try to run off, you’ll regret it.”

  “I won’t run. You’ll let me go soon, yes? Now that you’ve been identified there’s no reason to not let me go.”

  “Just stay put and care for Darren.”

  Taylor shut the door behind him but was still visible through the cracked piece of dusty glass set in its frame. Jen moved back over to the sofa and pretended to be sipping at her beer. When she was certain that neither Taylor nor Hendricks was looking in at her, Jen broke out the syringe she had filled with a sedative. One squirt each of the colorless and odorless liquid was sent into the beer cans the men had been drinking from. Jen prayed that they would finish their drinks.

  When Taylor and Hendricks returned, they sat across from Jen. Hendricks’ staring made her feel uncomfortable and she began to squirm.

  Hendricks laughed. “Don’t worry, Doc, I don’t plan to rape you, but you are a good-looking woman, and so I like to look at you.”

  “Are you going to let me go?”

  Taylor nodded. “As soon as Darren gets better, we’ll be moving on and leaving you alone. By the time you walk out to the road and flag down someone, we’ll be long gone.”

  “Thank you,” Jen said.

  Taylor winced. “Don’t thank us, we grabbed you out of your home and threatened your life. I feel like crap for doing it… but sometimes we do what we need to do.”

  Jen picked up her can of beer and drank from it, as she hoped Hendricks and Taylor would finish their own drinks.

  First Hendricks, and then Taylor grabbed their beer and began drinking again. Jen fought the urge to grin. She would soon be free.

  23

  Interrogation

  Mike Roumell returned to Jen’s home after being grilled by the cops to find that someone had broken in. He knew that the cops had searched the place, and that they would continue to hound him, but the man walking toward him didn’t strike Roumell as being a cop. What he looked like was trouble.

  “Who are you?”

  The man answered Roumell by grabbing him by the hair and tripping him to the floor. When Roumell looked up, he saw that his attacker had a gun aimed at his face.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want the truth,” Tanner said.

  Tanner stared down at Mike Roumell while wondering if Roumell had killed Dr. Jennifer Mao. A video was being played on TV and the internet that showed Roumell handling Jen in a rough manner while speaking to her in a fit of rage. If the man had followed the doctor to her house, it wasn’t hard to imagine that things might have escalated to further violence.

  “Did you kill your girlfriend?”

 
; “Are you a cop?”

  Tanner slammed a leather blackjack onto Roumell’s left knee. The man howled in pain as tears sprung to his eyes.

  “Answer my question. Did you kill the doctor?”

  “No, no the last time I saw her was in that parking lot. I don’t know what happened to her.”

  “You’re lying,” Tanner said, as the blackjack made contact with the knee again.

  Roumell released another cry of pain while reaching out to shove Tanner away. Tanner grabbed the thumb of the hand touching him and gave it a violent jerk backwards, dislocating it. More tears flowed from Roumell’s eyes as he turned on his side to writhe in pain.

  “Tell me what you did to the doctor!”

  “Nothing!” Roumell said through tears. “I swear I never harmed Jen.”

  “Don’t lie to me! You tell me what you did to her or I’ll keep hurting you.”

  Roumell shook his head. “I don’t know what’s happened to her, I don’t. If I did, I’d tell you, but I don’t.”

  Tanner straightened up. He believed Roumell and was now certain that Wicks and his crew had Jen. He gave Roumell a kick in the backside.

  “Don’t say a word about this to the cops. If anyone asks how you got hurt, tell them you fell down the stairs. If I find out you talked to the cops about me, I’ll be back someday. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

  “I do, and I swear I would never hurt Jen.”

  “Save it, Roumell.”

  Tanner left the home through the back door, sprinted to the short fence at the rear of the property, and leapt over it. Afterward, he walked through a back yard and out to the street on the other side of the block. Caleb pulled up in their rented Land Rover and Tanner got in.

  “What’s the verdict?”

  “I think he was telling the cops the truth.”

 

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