Reckless Abandon (18 page)

47

HAM WALKED INTO the kitchen where Ginny was cleaning the fish he’d caught early that morning. One of the reasons he loved her was that she would clean his fish, something he hated doing himself. Daisy was asleep on the floor beside her.

“How would you like a little vacation?” he asked.

“Would I have to clean fish?”

“Nope.”

“I’d love it. Where you want to go?”

“Why don’t we get in that airplane of yours, and you fly us out to the Bahamas.”

“Where in the Bahamas?”

“You know them better than I do. Where’s the fishing good?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” she said, wagging a bloody finger.

“Oh, right; no cleaning fish. Where can we go that somebody else will clean the fish?”

“I know a little resort on Cat Cay that has its own airstrip. You could give your fish to the restaurant and let them worry about the cleaning.”

“Sounds good to me. Why don’t you stick those fish in the freezer and throw your toothbrush and a bikini into a bag, and let’s get out of here.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

“I never knew you to be so spontaneous. Who was the phone call from?”

“Just a guy.”

“C’mon, Ham, what guy?”

“It was Stone.”

“And Stone suggested we take a vacation?”

“Sort of.”

Ginny began wrapping the fillets for freezing. “I want to know the whole story, Ham.”

“What whole story?”

She put the fish in the freezer and came and put her arms around his waist. “You know, you’ve been working on that poker face of yours for so long you think you can fool anybody, but you can’t fool me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can see right through your eyes into your brain, and right now I see deception.”

“Not much deception. After all, can it be so bad if I’m offering you a trip to the Bahamas?”

“Seems to me I’ve heard you say more than once that the Bahamas are boring, all that sun and sand.”

“Not if I can fish.”

“And what do I do while you’re fishing?”

“I don’t know, what do you do here while I’m fishing?”

“That’s right, you wouldn’t know, would you?”

“Well, I’m not here when I’m fishing, am I?”

“I get naked and do witchcraft incantations.”

“You can do witchcraft incantations in the Bahamas, can’t you?”

“No, I’d frighten the natives.”

“You’d frighten the native here, if I’d known what you were doing. I like the naked part, though.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?”

“I sure would. You gonna get packed?”

“Not until you tell me why we’re going.”

“Stone thought it would be a good idea.”

“Why did Stone think that?”

“He had a little brush with Trini Rodriguez.”

“He said ‘a little brush’?”

“Sort of.”

“And what do you think he meant?”

“Well, usually, having a little brush with Trini involves a death experience, but he was still talking, so I guess he and Holly are all right.”

“So now he thinks we’re going to have a death experience?”

“I think he wants us to avoid that.”

“By going to the Bahamas?”

“No, he just wanted us to move into Holly’s house for a while. The Bahamas was my idea.”

“So you’re more worried than he is?”

“No, I just thought the Bahamas would make a nice change until somebody shoots Trini in the head.”

“Okay, you talked me into it. I’ll go pack.” She gave him a little kiss and turned toward the bedroom.

Ham caught a movement out of the corner of his eye; somebody outside. He’d only seen a shoulder and an elbow. “Don’t do that right now,” he said.

“What?”

He went into the living room, opened his gun safe, and took out an Ithaca riot gun he’d had for years. He handed her the shotgun and a box of shells. “Take this into the broom closet and load it,” he said. “Take Daisy, keep her quiet, stay down low.”

She regarded him calmly for a moment, then took the shotgun and went back into the kitchen.

Ham took his Beretta 9mm from the safe, shoved a loaded magazine into it, and worked the action. He put two more magazines into his pocket, then took out the Browning automatic shotgun that he used for bird hunting and loaded it, putting extra shells into another pocket. He went to a closet in the living room where he kept his fishing clothes and got inside, leaving the door ajar so he could see the front door. He tuned out the birds in the trees outside, tuned out the cars crossing the bridge over the Indian River half a mile away, and listened to everything else.

He heard the tiny creak of a board from the back porch; he heard the scuff of a shoe sole from the front porch. He heard the squeak of a hinge on the screen door to the back porch. He knew they were listening, too, and they weren’t hearing voices anymore. He thought about saying something, but the closet door he stood behind was flimsy and would not stop a round. He held the shotgun in his left hand, ready to bring up the barrel, and the old automatic in his right.

Then he saw the shoulder and elbow he had seen out the window, and they were attached to a head and a neck. The man was short and stocky, and he held an Uzi in his hands.

Why do these yahoos think they need machine guns? he asked himself.

The man stopped just inside the front door and, looking toward the rear of the house, held a finger to his lips, then waved for his companion to approach.

That’s it, Ham said to himself. You two fellows just get a little closer together.

The first man was making hand motions now, directing his friend toward the kitchen. No more waiting.

Ham kicked open the closet door. “Freeze,” he said, but he knew they wouldn’t. The short barrel of the Uzi was swinging around, and he fired the shotgun at it once, while pointing the Beretta 9mm at the other man.

The first man and the Uzi parted company, and he flew backward, landing on and smashing the mahogany coffee table. The second man dropped his weapon and threw his hands into the air.

“Good evening,” Ham said in a low voice. “How many more of you?”

“None,” the man said. “Let me out of here, and you’ll never see me again.”

“That’s a possibility,” Ham said, “but not until I get some answers. Lie down on the floor.” He didn’t call Ginny out yet, because he wasn’t sure there weren’t others.

48

STONE WAS AT his desk, working his way through a pile of work he had dictated days before, when the phone rang.

Joan buzzed him. “Ham Barker on line one, and he wants to talk with both you and Holly.”

“Buzz Holly in the bedroom,” Stone said. He watched the lights on the phone blinking, then turning red again. He picked up the instrument. “Ham?”

“Yeah, Stone. Holly’s on the line, too.”

“What’s up?”

“Well, we were about to start packing for a little vacation when we had a couple of visitors.”

“Are you both all right?”

“Oh, yeah, we’re fine. One of our visitors is suffering from being dead, though, and the other one is taped to a kitchen chair. Don’t you just love duct tape?”

“Ham,” Holly said, “was this a good shooting?”

“Well, if you think having an Uzi pointed at you with intent is a good reason for a shooting, then it’s a good shooting.”

“Have you called the station?”

“Not yet. I wanted to have a little chat with the other one first.”

“Don’t wait too long,” Holly said.

“Oh, I’m about ready to call now. I just wanted to let you and Stone have the results of our chat first.”

“Okay, what are the results?”

“Well, the fellow was a little reluctant to talk at first, until we made him take off his pants and then taped him to the chair and then told him about how Daisy was trained to eat genitals, how they’re her favorite thing.”

Holly burst out laughing. “I’ve got to remember that one.”

“After that, and after Daisy stood in front of him and showed her teeth, he got real talkative.”

“And what did he have to say?” Stone asked.

“Trouble is, he doesn’t really know all that much. Turns out he works for some bad people in Miami, and he and his former buddy had traveled up here at the request of your Mr. Rodriguez. That didn’t come as much of a surprise.”

“No,” Holly said, “it wouldn’t.”

“What did come as a surprise was exactly what Trini wanted them to do to Ginny and Daisy and me when they got here.”

“Do I want to hear this, Ham?” Holly asked.

“Probably not. Suffice it to say that he wanted to cause us all some pain before we shuffled off this mortal coil.”

“Tell my cops about this in detail,” she said.

“Wilco. Now I thought you might have an interest in how this fellow got his instructions from Trini.”

“Oh, yes,” Holly said.

“It seems Trini called him on his cell phone.”

“Oh, good. That means the calling number might still be in the phone.”

“Funny you should mention that,” Ham said. “I’ve got the last number, which is where Trini called from, and nine other numbers, four of them in New York. Seems Trini has been moving around the past day or so.”

“I’ve got a pencil,” Stone said.

Ham read off the list of numbers in reverse order. “I expect you know somebody who can run down those numbers.”

“You bet I do,” Stone said.

“Stone, you still think we should vacate the premises for a while?”

“Yes, I do. Trini may be persistent.”

“Okay. Soon as we’re squared away with the cops, we’ll be on our way. Holly, you can reach us on our cell phones.”

“Okay, Ham, and you tell Hurd Wallace at the station to call me if he needs any help dealing with your visitors.”

“Wilco, baby. You take care of yourself, and Stone, too.” Ham hung up.

“Stone, you still on the phone?” she asked.

“Still here.”

“Who are you going to get to run down those numbers?”

“Dino would be best.”

“Couldn’t you get it done more . . . privately?”

“Holly, listen to me: You and I are not going to go after Trini all by ourselves, and neither are you going to do it alone, even if I have to hog-tie you.”

“Well, being tied up is an interesting thought, but what do you think that Dino could do that you and I couldn’t do just as well?”

“Well, just for starters, he can conjure up a SWAT team, who stand a much better chance of success than you and I busting into some room full of well-armed Arab terrorists, without getting somebody besides them shot.”

“You’re such a sissy, Stone.”

“That’s why I’m still alive,” Stone replied. “I learned as a cop not to bust down doors myself when I could get a dozen guys in black body armor to do it for me.”

“Oh, all right, call Dino.”

“My very thought. Bye-bye.” He hung up and dialed Dino.

“Bacchetti.”

“It’s Stone.”

“Hey.”

“Two of Trini’s hoods tried to kill Holly’s father and his girlfriend this morning, down in Florida.”

“Everybody okay?”

“One of the shooters isn’t, and the other gave up a cell phone with ten numbers in it, four of them in New York, at least the last one from a call made by Trini himself.”

“Shoot.”

Stone read off the numbers.

“I’ll have addresses on these in five minutes, and we’ll raid all five.”

“Great, but Holly and I want to come along on the raid on that last number, the one Trini called from.”

“Stone, you know I can’t do that. If one of you got hurt, the chief of detectives would fall on me from a great height.”

“Listen, we’re both sworn officers of a Florida police department, and with a fugitive warrant. You can make a case for us being entitled. And we’ll stand in back of your team. I think that after what Holly has been through with this guy, she’s entitled. Trini gave his hit men instructions to torture Ham and Ginny and the dog, too, before they died.”

“Oh, all right, but you’re both going to have to dress up in body armor, helmets, the whole thing, and you don’t fire any shots at all. You got that?”

“I’ve got it, and I’ll explain it forcefully to Holly.”

“Okay, then. I’ll call you back when I’ve got an address and a team assembled. Give me an hour.” He hung up.

Stone trudged upstairs to explain to Holly that she wasn’t going to get to personally remove Trini’s liver. Not yet, anyway.

49

STONE STRIPPED DOWN his Walther, inspected it, wiped the parts with an oiled rag, reassembled it, loaded a round into the chamber, shoved in a full magazine, put the safety on, and stuck it into his shoulder holster.

Holly had been watching him. “How good a shot are you?”

“Pretty good. Dino is Deadeye Dick.”

“Yeah?”

“Twice—at least twice—he’s saved my ass by killing somebody with a difficult shot. Most cops I know have never fired their weapons, except on the range. How about you? How good a shot?”

“Very good indeed, but not a patch on Ham. He’s the best I ever saw, maybe the best shot alive—and with any weapon. He has this gift, and of course, he’s worked hard at it. I’ve seen him explode a cantaloupe at a thousand yards with a sniper rifle, and he unerringly hits moving targets with a pistol.”

“Like you say, it’s a gift; genetic.”

“Unfortunately, I got only half his genes.”

“I’d say you got some pretty good ones.”

She smiled. “Thanks. You think we’re near the end of this?”

“God, I hope so. I’m not sure how much longer I can do it.”

“I could do it forever.”

“I know. Reckless abandon and iron will are a powerful combination. I’m glad you’re not hunting me.”

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“Uh-oh.”

She laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t threaten your precious bachelorhood.”

“What makes you think it’s so precious?”

“Well, you’ve created this perfect existence for yourself. You’d never let anybody disturb that, would you?”

“You’ve created a pretty perfect existence for yourself, too.”

“Yeah, but since Jackson’s death, it hasn’t been the same. And I’ve already told you I’m bored with the work.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Lance has offered me something.”

“What? When?”

“At Elaine’s, the last time, when you were in the john and Dino was on the phone.”

“What did he offer you, exactly?”

“He was vague but intriguing. He said I’d have to do some training at a place called the Farm, in Virginia. Four months, probably.”

“I thought those guys recruited from the bottom.”

“You mean, not middle-aged, retired soldiers and policemen?”

“Middle-aged, you?”

“Sure. You, too.”

“Well.”

“It might be fun.”

“The training would be a pain in the ass.”

“I like that sort of thing. I did a lot of it in the army, training and retraining, then passing the training on to others.”

“Maybe you’re cut out for it then. But would the work be fun?”

“Lance seems to enjoy it.”

“Sometimes I think he enjoys it too much.”

“I know what you mean. Still, he’s serving his country, so what does it matter if he enjoys it too much?”

“I hope I never find out. So, you want to go work in an embassy somewhere?”

“No, the work he’s talking about is domestic and mostly urban. The Agency has a new role in homeland security now, and the change has made them understaffed. The money is no better than decent, but I’ve got my military pension, and I’m fully vested in my police pension, too. Plus what Jackson left me.”

“Sounds like I should marry you for your money.”

“I’m not ever going to marry.”

“You sound very sure.”

“I am. It just isn’t out there for me. You’re a catch, but you’re too much like me. Jackson was a wholly different person, calm and wise and funny. He wasn’t brilliant, but he knew how to do the right thing in any situation.”

“That’s as much a gift as Ham’s shooting.”

“You’re right, and he cultivated it every day. But he’s gone, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Did they ever catch the people who did it, that cult group, or whatever they were?”

“No, but Lance says I’d have a better chance with the Agency. I could never run them down in law enforcement. Either I’d have a department to run, like now, or I’d be caught up in a bureaucracy with some supervisor’s shoe on my neck. I don’t think it would be like that with Lance.”

“Maybe not.”

“I could always quit, if I didn’t like it.”

“I suppose.”

The phone rang and Stone picked it up. “Hello?”

“It’s Dino. The address is less than two blocks from your house.”

“Jesus.” He got a pencil and wrote it down. “We’ll meet you there.”

“No, come here. We’ve got the building plans on the way, and we need to plan this well.”

“We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Bring your weapons and Holly’s warrant.”

“Will do.” He hung up.

“Got your warrant?” he asked Holly.

“You bet your ass.”

“Then let’s go.”

On the way uptown, in the cab, Stone reached out for Holly’s wrist and felt her pulse.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s about ninety,” he said. “You want to calm down. Take some deep breaths. It’s going to be at least a couple of hours before we go in.”

“I want to do it now.”

“I know, but you have to be patient.”

“No, I don’t,” she replied.

“You’ll do a better job if you pace yourself.”

“Maybe.”

“Certainly.”

She began taking deep breaths, and her heart rate started to come down.

“That’s better,” he said.

“No, it isn’t,” she replied.