Wicked Is the Whiskey: A Sean McClanahan Mystery (Sean McClanahan Mysteries Book 1) (21 page)

After the chief turned the wounded man over to county authorities for medical treatment, Lou and the chief and I stood in the parking lot of Angelica’s Restaurant mulling over a plan.

“The odds are stacked in their favor and they know it,” I said. “But we need to get in there or Erin and Elizabeth are as good as dead.”

“How many are left?” said Lou.

“By my count, there are Tony, Terry and three mercenaries left,” I said.

The chief nodded.

“I’ve been keeping track as well,” she said, “and your math aligns with mine.”

“It’s just the three of us?” I said to the chief.

She nodded.

“I’m the only full-time officer in Maryanne,” she said. “We use a third-party service to do some of the policing, but I’m not sure if we can trust them. Besides, they aren’t on duty until the night shift.”

“We could use more manpower,” said Lou. “Any manpower.”

“I can bring in Maureen and Mick,” I said. “What about Morton and Wilson?”

“They may be getting on in years, but they’re a couple of tough birds,” she said. “I say we get everyone together and figure out what we are going to do.”

***

An hour later, Mick and Maureen had joined us in the back of Wilson’s Diner. Morton and Wilson were there, as well.

We brought everyone up to speed on what happened and what we needed to do.

“We’re in,” said Wilson, smiling. 

“You’re sure you want to do this?” I said, delighted by the offer, but worried that both fellows had their best days behind them.

“We’re taking back our town,” said Wilson.

“We know that building,” said Morton. “We watched that building being renovated and know the layout inside and outside well enough to know our way around.”

“I figure Erin and Elizabeth are in the same place they took me to,” I said. “It's in the back of the building on the other side of the garage entrance. There’s a long drive that passes through the center of the building and a garage door on the other side.”

“Suggestions?” I said to everyone.

“We don’t have enough numbers or force to storm them,” said Lou. “But a little subterfuge might help us overcome considerable odds.”

“What are you thinking?” I said.

“Well, if we can get a couple of us on the inside and keep the rest of us on the outside, maybe we can squeeze them like an ice cream sandwich and hit them from both sides.”

“I have an idea to get me and Sean inside?” said the chief. “Then what?”

“Well, I have a megaphone in the car,” said Lou. “I have a pistol and a shotgun and can use them to make some noise — make them think the DEA has them surrounded.”

“Maureen and I brought our shotguns and hunting rifles,” said Mick. “A semi-automatic is what we need, but we don’t have one.”

“Well, Hall’s hired men do have them,” I said. “They’ll be much better armed than we are and they are likely very well trained.”

“Which may make them overconfident,” said Maureen. “We can use that overconfidence to our advantage.”

“How can we do that?” I said.

“Well, they will probably be much more aggressive than they need to be,” said Maureen. “They will likely want to charge us. So with the chief and Sean inside, we need to get two others close to the garage door or front entrance, where they will likely come out. Then the rest of us will stay high up on the hill firing at them to draw their attention. The two down below will take the three men out from behind.”

“We need to shoot out Hall’s security cameras,” said Wilson. “There are a half dozen outside. We take them out they won’t be able to monitor us.”

“This all sounds good,” said Chief Sarafino. “The question is, what do Sean and I do once we are inside?”

“We’ll have to cross that bridge if we make it that far,” I said. “But I do have a plan for what to do once we get inside. Do you have the technology to wire yourself and record everything we experience?”

The chief nodded.

We discussed the finishing touches of our makeshift plan for the next 30 or 40 minutes — and were ready to carry it out.

My hands were cuffed behind my back as the chief marched me into the building, her shotgun pointed at my back.

“What have we here?” said big Tony, walking toward us, Terry walking next to him. “Thing’s ain’t turning out so good for you now.”

He walked up to me and blocked my path, his face inches from mine, his breath smelling like industrial waste.

“You ever hear of Tic Tacs?” I said, turning my head away.

He hit me in my stomach with everything I had. I fell to the ground, the wind knocked out of me.

“Up,” he said, waving me up with his hands. I didn’t move. He grabbed my wrists and yanked me to my feet. It hurt like hell, but I didn’t want him to know it.

“What a tough guy you are roughing up an incapacitated man,” I said, breathing hard.

He swung at me with a looping right. I moved quickly enough to miss the full brunt of his blow, but he grazed me good.

“I’ll bet you terrify paraplegics and old ladies all over this county,” I said, laughing.

He swung at me again and grazed me good again. When he was about to land his third swing, I stepped to the left, then kicked him as hard as I could in his left knee.

He went to the ground holding his knee, groaning.

“Tony, stop fooling with him,” said Terry. “Hall said to bring him with the others.”

“Shut up, Terry.”

As he got to his feet he reached inside his breast pocket. He pulled out a blackjack and came toward me. I ducked his first two swings, but his third was a doozie.

And everything went black.

It was a wonderful dream.

I dreamt I was in the arms of a woman, my head cradled in her lap and held against her bosom. She stroked my head gently as she kissed my forehead.

I felt safer and happier than I'd felt in all of my years. I felt the glow of warmth and affection that only a woman can make a man know.

I remembered my first experience with love — puppy love. It was a spring day in the 6
th
grade and a new girl came to our school. She was quickly embraced by the popular girls and for a reason I never did comprehend, she liked me.

I remember the spring day in science class — the windows open, the birds chirping, the leaves just that week fully fleshed out on the trees — when I looked to her and she looked back to me.

Our eyes locked — two kids experiencing the forces that are hard wired into us, a longing and need for the other. I was unable to look away. I had never known how thirsty I was for something — somebody — I had no idea I'd needed. But I didn't want to look away. I couldn't look away. Our spirits collided and connected and I was filled with a simple, innocent, intense beauty.

I thought of how amazing it was to me that in a lifetime a man might only get to know that feeling once or twice or three times if he was really lucky. I thought about how precious it was to ever come across it, and how difficult it was to hold onto it once it is found.

And I thought about Erin Miller and how, for reasons I still could not comprehend, she filled me with that same sweet energy — a pat of butter in a frying skillet.

I began laughing at that image. I began to laugh aloud when —

“Sean, are you OK? Wake up.” 

I opened my eyes. Bright fluorescent lights blinded me. My vision was blurry for a spell until my eyes could adjust. And as they did, I found myself looking up into Erin's eyes, while she cradled my head.

“Are you OK?” she said, hugging me.

Elizabeth knelt on the other side of me, stroking my arm. The chief stood across the room, her shotgun trained on us.

“Sean,” said Erin, “we’re so sorry. We thought we had this situation wrapped up. We called Lou to meet him. We don’t know how they found us.”

I told them about Lou’s unwitting mistake with Hall’s dispatch service.

“Come close to me,” I said to Erin and Elizabeth, “so I can tell you something.”

Whispering, I told them to stay close to me — that I was going to get them out of this. They looked puzzled, but they nodded, nervously.

“Did Tony and Terry get the ledger?” I said, talking at normal volume.

Erin nodded.

“We found it at Gertrude’s,” said Erin. “John placed it under the pad on Gertrude’s rocker.”

“Surely the safest spot in the house,” I said, laughing.

We heard footsteps coming toward us — a herd of footsteps that echoed about the hard walls and hallways until they neared the other side of our steel door. We heard the keys, then the lock tumble open.

Two large, powerfully-built men walked inside, pointing semiautomatics at us.

They were followed by Tony and Terry.

Then we heard the pitter patter of little footsteps, the steps of feet that were close together.

In walked Victoria Hall.

“You’re such a dumb ass, McClanahan,” said Hall. “If you'd kept out of this, it would have been cut-and-dried. If you’d negotiated a deal with me you’d be rich. Now you have all these nice people involved in your mess.”

“Tell you what,” I said. “Why don't you let Erin and Elizabeth go? They don't know what I know. They’re no threat to you.”

“You watch too many movies,” said Hall. “Here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to kill everyone here — and kill you last nice and slow and painful. We wouldn’t want you to miss the show!”

Hall laughed aloud again.

“It looks like you’re going to win the final round, Vick,” I said.

With the chief’s recording device doing its job, our strategy was to get Hall to talk.

“What I don't know is how you came to get involved with John Preston in the first place,” I said.

Hall snorted.

“How hard is that to figure out, dumb ass?” she said. “Look, when I got out of Penn, I specialized in turning around small, struggling businesses in small, struggling towns and was damn good at my work. I employ many people in these businesses. My public relations people told me to do more community outreach work to generate publicity for my businesses. We began giving ex-cons a second chance and, boy, did that open up some doors.”

“Let me guess, more than half of the ex-cons had been in for drug peddling?”

“You’re finally catching on, you moron,” said Hall. “It hadn’t been part of my original business plan, but it was too damn good to pass up. Many of my ex-cons still had connections and I made good use of them. I started small, but it got bigger than I could have ever dreamed.”

“And you were able to fly under the radar by operating out of small, aging industrial towns that were a shell of their former selves,” I said. “The cops who ran those communities were underpaid and all too willing to run cover for you for a fee. They kept the county, state and federal authorities from sniffing around.”

“Maybe you’re not as stupid as you look,” said Hall. “I set up operations up and down the Mon. But business was getting too big. I needed to take over a bigger building — something along the river with easy highway access so we could get our shipments in by river barge and get them out by cars and trucks.”

“And that’s where Guido entered the picture?”

“Very good, McClanahan. I knew about old man Mosconi and his history as a mob tough. Though the old mobster was of no use to me — he was one of the old fogies who loathed the drug business — his properties certainly held an appeal. Nobody owned more of the type of structures I needed than he did. So when his son got out of jail for drug dealing, one of his parole officers sent him to me to hire him. I gave him odd jobs here and there as he adjusted back to civilian life, but he was a horrible employee. I was about to fire him when he told me his sister was making a spot for him in the family company — that he could help me find the perfect property in which to expand.”

“Did he know that heroin was becoming your real business?” I said.

“Not at first,” said Hall. “I’d never trust that moron with that information.”

“Except that he eventually learned about your heroin operation through his contacts on the street?” I said.

Hall nodded.

“The incompetent little wimp wasn’t much of an employee or a man, but he was street smart and as my operation got bigger, he put two and two together,” said Hall. “The twit threatened to exercise a clause in the sales contract and shut down my operation. So I had to let him in on some of the action. We supplied him with a steady amount of heroin so that he could distribute it to his friends out of that dumb comedy club.”

“For once in his life, he was making some money, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut,” I said. “Or maybe he kept demanding more from you. Whatever the case, you knew he couldn’t be trusted so you had your boys take him out.”

“He would have overdosed sooner or later anyhow,” said Hall.

“How did you get involved with Preston?” I said. “I figure his finances were disorganized and his bankruptcy such a mess that you saw an opportunity to take advantage of him?”

Hall smiled. She loved being in the limelight.

“I have insiders in banks and lending institutions always looking out for distressed companies,” she said. “One of my contacts was worried about Preston’s ability to repay his debts. I looked at Preston’s books. The little twit was a horrible businessman and there was really nothing for me to salvage of his company — but it made for the perfect front to launder millions on a grand, global scale using Stanley’s credit card scheme.”

“Preston knew nothing of your real intent?” I said.

“Not a whit,” said Hall. “At first, he just wanted to do his little consulting bit and help people find happiness. He was on the road constantly. Later on, he stopped working so much — that must have been when he got involved with Erin Miller — and hardly ever came to the office, which was great. I had a run of the operation the past four years — until he began to get wise just before I had him tossed into the river.”

“How wise did he get?” I said.

“I got word from my people that he tried to get into the secure wing, where the heroin is processed,” said Hall. “Then, the day I had him killed, he visited me. He said he was going to tell the world about Erin and resign his position. I didn’t care about that, because it was beginning to get too hot and I was planning to shut down the operation anyhow. Then he said he had a copy of my ledger and that he was going to give it to the authorities. Now even if the feds got the ledger, they’d have to decode it before it would they’d find anything useful and that wouldn’t be easy for them to do. Still, Preston was suddenly a threat, so I had Tony and Terry drug him and then drown him. He was already dead when they tossed him off the bridge.”

“You thought that solved your problem,” I said, “but what you didn’t know was that Preston had been leading a double life — that his real name was John Miller and that he had married Erin. You feared she knew what he knew — that she was in possession of your ledger.”

Hall smiled.

“You should have worked for me, you ass clown,” she said. “I could have made you rich. Yeah, what you say is exactly what happened. I had the chief’s office bugged and Tony and Terry heard the conversation between the chief and Erin. They followed her to your pub. They mucked up her abduction and then you went and saved her before we could learn what she knew. Erin Miller was my biggest oversight. It’s because of her you have been causing me unnecessary grief. I’m so going to enjoy watching you die.”

“Why did you kill Rosie?” I said.

“I couldn’t trust her,” said Hall. “I figured she made the copy of my ledger and gave it to Preston. She was too clever for her own good and she had to go. That was the same with Elizabeth. I didn’t think she knew what was going on. Preston moved out of her house when we moved to Maryanne four years ago. But I had to get rid of her as part of my strategy eliminate any and every loose end. But you had to go and be a hero and save her — all wasted energy, however, as Elizabeth will meet her end shortly.”

“What about Stanley?” I said. “He has a record of every illicit financial transaction you made. He knows how you got money out of the country, had it laundered at a foreign bank, then wired back to the country. I have turned him over to the DEA. He is safe and he is talking as we speak.”

“Nice try,” said Hall. “But I think you’re bluffing. We will find Stanley and take care of him before he talks to anyone. I think I know where he is holed up but he will be found. The way I see it, my work is about done here.”

“And what about my father?” said Chief Sarafino. “You never told me how he got involved with you.”

“It’s the same old story with you small time cops,” said Hall. “You like to act like you’re full of integrity and justice for all, but almost every cop I ever met had his price and your dad was no different. You mom was sick and he needed money to cover her treatments. Dumb ass signed on without knowing what I was really up to. The pressure overwhelmed him and killed him, and I made sure we got you back to town to take over. I knew your weakness, too. You cared about your dad’s sterling reputation. This will all be over soon. Why not use some of the money I gave you and take a nice vacation.”

Hall patted herself on the shoulder.

Oh, God, why am I so good at this!” she said, laughing.

Then she turned to her henchman.

“Kill them all,” said Hall, as the pitter patter of her small feet began walking towards the exit, “but kill McClanahan last. And do it slowly.”

“But I must settle a little score with McClanahan first,” said Tony. “Let me fight him.”

“Now there’s an idea,” said Hall, turning to the chief. “Uncuff him.”

I stood and the chief took my cuffs off — our plan was unfolding better than expected.

“Now you pay,” said Tony, as he handed his gun to Terry. He took off his sport coat and let it drop to the floor. “Now you’ll wish you were never alive.”