Duty Bound (1995) (4 page)

"About damn time."

Ted pulled off the lake road into a private drive and came to a stop in front of a large ornate metal gate. A small box attached to a pole suddenly blurted, "State your business!"

Ted rolled down his window and spoke into the box. "I'm Ted Wilson, the private investigator working for the lady. I called. She's expectin' me."

"Drive in when the gate opens. Park in the circular drive by the cabin. I'll meet'cha."

The gate started rolling back and Ted put his '92 Lincoln Town Car into gear. He drove four hundred yards down a winding tree-lined asphalt road and did a double take when he saw the massive three-story log mansion sitting on a finger of land jutting out into the lake. A cabin? The guy calls that a cabin? Chrisea'mighty, the logs alone cost a couple million. Looks like a ski resort.

Ted parked in the drive and got out of the white Lincoln.

The massive front door opened and a thin, balding man walked out wearing jeans, cowboy boots, and a leather shoulder holster holding a nickel-plated .357 Magnum. "You carrying, Mr. Wilson?" he asked. "The lady don't want anybody comin' inside who's packin'."

Ted lifted his arms and nodded toward the house. "Naw, I ain't carryin' anything. You the one who called this thing a cabin?"

The man approached and paned Ted down. "Rich folks up here call 'em cabins; I just call it big. The lady is waitin' in the great room for ya. Mrs. White will show you in--and Wilson, I'd keep an eye on that damned dog the lady has, if I were you; he'll eat your ass up."

An old black woman appeared in the doorway. "He the dick, Duwane?"

"Yeah, Halley, it's Mr. Wilson. You can take him on in."

The tiny gray-haired woman looked Ted up and down as he walked toward the door. "Wipe yo' feet 'fo' ya come in here."

"Yes, ma'am," Ted said, wiping his feet on the mat. He noticed the little woman had snuff packed under her lower lip.

The old woman spat toward the driveway before motioning him inside. "Come on, I'se take ya to Mrs. Stone. Mind her dog now, ya hear? It one of them clanged ol' foreign dogs.

Meaner than a snake. Seen it eat up the cable man the other day. I warned him, yes, sir, I warned him, meaner than a snake."

Ted entered the foyer and came to an abrupt halt. Man, the thin guy was right; it is big. Gotta be an old lodge or something.

"You comin' or ain't ya?" the old woman said.

Ted strode across the spacious pine-floored foyer to catch up to his escort and glanced up at the exposed log beams.

How the hell they heat and cool such a big place? It had to be forty feet up to the wood ceiling. All that wasted space had to cost a bundle to heat and cool. Jesus, and the furniture. How the hell you supposed to get comfortable on log and willow furniture? Damn decorator must have been a Cherokee or something. There were Indian blankets, feathered things, cow skulls, and Indian pictures everywhere.

The old woman halted in the hallway and gestured ahead.

"She's just down there workin' on that machine a'hers.

Lordy, like she need to be worryin' about her weight. Go on, just mind that dog."

Directly in front of Ted three steps led down into the enormous sunken great room where four huge windows gave him a spectacular view of the lake fifty yards away. He was about to step down but heard a growl. Ted saw the dog and froze.

A voice said, "Come to mama, Baby. You Ted?"

"Yeah, I'm Ted." He looked in the direction the voice had come from. All he could see was an eight-foot partition covered with a colorful Indian blanket.

"Come on down. Baby won't bother you now," the voice said.

Thinking about the "ate up" cable man, Ted didn't move until the big, golden dog with the little head moved slowly toward the partition and disappeared behind it. Ted walked down the steps onto the Persian carpet and scanned the room, stopping when he saw the huge stone fireplace. Jesus, you can walk into that thing. He heard heavy breathing, turned, and froze again. Ten feet away, partly hidden behind the partition, a tall, glistening, deeply tanned blonde was working a StairMaster, her legs going up and down like pistons. Her back was to him and he couldn't see her face, but that didn't matter. What he could see made him immediately break out into a sweat. She was wearing a skintight white spandex exercise outfit.

Not looking at him, the blonde spoke over her shoulder.

"Hand me a towel, will you?" The woman raised a hand from the bar and motioned to her right. "The towel is over here on the chair. Baby won't bother you."

What the hell, I'll just kick the stuffing outta the mutt if it makes a move on me, Ted thought. He walked over and picked up the towel. Taking in a breath, he stepped closer, turned his head away from the woman, and held out the towel. "Here ya go."

She took the towel as she kept pumping her legs, tossed it around her neck and looked him over. "So you're him, huh?

You're not exactly what I expected."

Still keeping his head turned, Ted shrugged, having Picked up the disappointment in her voice. "Yeah, well, you're not what I expected, either."

"What, you thought I'd be the Miss Chiquita Banana type?"

"The thought entered my mind, yeah."

"I have a degree in business. Well, almost . . . I only need seven more credit hours. Just because I was Carlos's friend doesn't make me a bimbo or a whore."

Ted looked out the window toward the lake, thinking, This flaky dyed blonde is going to help me? Yeah, right. He sighed, then said, "Why don't ya stop doin' that and put somethin' on. We've got business to discuss."

"I only have another minute to do. Why don't you get yourself something to drink. The bar is by the fireplace."

Ted walked back into the main room and stopped at another window, wondering how fast Genesse could find him somebody else who knew computers. Something touched his leg. He looked down. Ohhh, shit! The dog was sniffing his trouser legs. Taking another step closer, the animal started sniffing higher. Thinking of the cable man, Ted didn't move a muscle until the dog got to his crotch. That's it! "Down, dog!"

Ted snapped.

To his surprise, the animal sat on his haunches and looked up at him as if saying Huh?

Ted pointed to the partition. "Get on back to your master."

The dog immediately hurried behind the wall, but came back seconds later wagging its tail. There was a worn tennis ball in its mouth.

"He wants to play," the woman said as she followed the animal.

Ted gulped. Big bust, narrow waist, wide hips, and long legs--all sheathed in see-through spandex. Ms. Rogers looked like a Las Vegas showgirl on her break.

The woman frowned. "You're staring at me like I'm lunch."

Embarrassed, Ted lowered his eyes to the carpet. "Put somethin' on, will ya?"

"You don't get out much, do you? This isn't any more revealing than what women athletes wore during the Olympics."

Ted raised his head, looking into her big hazel eyes. "I get out plenty, lady. You want to wear that thing to talk business in, that's fine." He leaned over, took the ball from the dog's mouth, and tossed it across the room. The dog became a blur.

The woman shook her head. "You started something.

Baby loves chasing that nasty ball. You'll have to throw it a hundred times before he poops out."

As if making her point, Baby scampered back with the ball and dropped it at Ted's feet. He picked it up and gave it another toss. "What kind of dog is he?" Ted asked, just to say something and give himself time to get used to looking at the half-naked woman.

"He's a Rhodesian Ridgeback. They're originally from Africa and were bred to hunt lions. See the hair on the top of his back? It grows in the opposite direction from the rest of the hair on him. It's kind of like a giant cowlick. I'm Bonita Rogers, by the way."

Now genuinely interested in the animal, Ted dipped his chin toward the dog. "You call a lion-hunting dog Baby?

That doesn't seem right."

"I thought you said you wanted to talk business?"

"Sure has a small head, doesn't he? How could he bring down a lion with such a little jaw?"

"Ask the cable man who came a couple of days ago,"

Bonita said as she walked to the coffee table. She leaned over and started to put on the jewelry she'd taken off prior to her workout.

Ted tossed the ball again and glanced at the mound of what looked like a small treasure. "Those the benefits of shacking up with Mendez?" he asked.

Bonita slipped on a four-carat diamond ring. "Look, Faircloud, you wouldn't understand, but I was a queen. I got everything I ever dreamed of having, okay?"

Ted nodded as if in understanding. "Yeah, and did your king give ya that busted lip, too?"

Bonita unconsciously raised her hand, touching the still puffy lip. "He didn't do this. . . . I got it from Simon before I escaped."

Ted nodded again. "You escaped with your lion hunter and jewelry but no clothes, huh?"

"I got out alive, okay?"

Ted stared at her. "No, it's not okay. Ya see, I'm standin' here tryin' to figure out how a yacht queen gets away from her king. I mean, it's one thing doin' a swan dive off his boat and makin' a swim for it ... but it's another when ya have time to take your dog and your benefits. I'm just a dumb ex-squid who doesn't have a degree in business, ya understand? How about you humoring me and tell me how you pulled off this escape of yours."

"What is it with the questions--you don't trust me?"

"I wanna hear your story, Miss Rogers." Ted gave her his best don't mess with me look.

Bonita took a step back. "It wasn't what you think. I had my own life. I was going to school and working part-time at KNJP, Channel 24, in Miami. I was a researcher for their newsroom. . . . I was doing so well they were about to promote me and--"

"Get to the escape part," Ted said.

"Okay, okay. I'd get beeped when he wanted me to come out to the boat or his place. His people would come and pick me up. Carlos was good to me, but then he started getting weird. I can take a lot of things, but I'm not into weird. I saw the handwriting on the wall, so when I got back to my place I started packing. But the servants called Carlos's people. One of his bodyguards, Simon, came over and asked where I thought I was going. I told him I was going to see my sick mother, and he says 'Sure,' then he hits me. That's how I got this. I thought he was going to kill me, so I shot him.. . . I had a pistol in my purse. He looked so stunned ... like he just couldn't believe I would do it. He stood there, gasping like a goldfish out of water, bleeding on my white carpet, staring at me. I left him there, still standing and holding his stomach, afraid to move. Baby and most of my valuables and things were already in the car, so I ran out and left. That's what happened . . . it's the truth."

Ted wrinkled his brow. "You really shot the guy?"

"He hit me, Faircloud, and his face told me he wasn't finished. Yeah, I shot him."

"Where'd you learn to shoot people?"

"I was raised on a farm, and I hunted with my brothers. I know how to shoot . . . but I'd never shot a man before. It was awful."

Ted leaned over to pick up the ball. He gave it a toss and looked at the attractive woman again. She's gotta be in her upper thirties, maybe early forties . . . shows in those big eyes of hers, eyes that say she's been around the block a couple of times. Gotta been a showgirl or big-time working girl.

Ted said, "So, a friend of mine says you're goin' to help me. You've been briefed on everything and you're up to speed. He wasn't blowin' smoke, was he?"

"So you believe me now?" Bonita asked as if surprised.

"I never did not believe you--my friend would have checked you out. I asked 'cause I was curious is all."

Bonita's eyes narrowed. "You're a bastard, you know that? You scared me with that look of yours."

"I practice that look in the mirror, Miss Rogers. I guess it works. So are you up to speed on the op or not?"

Bonita began putting on a series of gold bracelets. "Yes, I'm 'up to speed' ... but I want you to understand up front that I get a portion of the money you're going to steal from Carlos. Your friends said I'd have to negotiate the amount with you. I want a million."

"A million? Lady, you got a quarter of a million in rocks and gold there. You get 250 G's if we pull it off, and that's being real generous on my part."

Bonita snapped the clasp of the gold Rolex she'd just put on. "Do you know anything about computers, Mr. Faircloud? How about the Internet? Do you know how to go online? Do you know how to use e-mail? I didn't think so.

How about this: Do you know how your friends were planning to make Carlos move his money so you can get to it?

No? Well, I know all those things, Mr. Faircloud. One million dollars. That's the deal for my help."

Ted tossed the ball again. "You still have that pistol you shot the guy with?"

Bonita lowered the thick gold chain with the diamond pendant she was about to put on. "Uh . . . yes, it's in my purse. Why?"

" 'Cause you're goin' to need it. When I walk out of here, there ain't goin' to be no op. My friend will have to find somebody else to do it. And guess what? He won't need you anymore--you'll be on your own. Ya see, the way I look at it, I'm the guy who's goin' to take all the chances. You? You'll be online, whatever that is. The deal is you get a quarter million or I forget the whole thing and walk out of here."