Black 01 - Black Rain (20 page)

Agent Duvall smiles. “I think it’s cute the way they look out for each other.”

“Joe, you know how we do it, dude. We don’t mean any harm. We’re just having fun giving each other a hard time,” Mo-Mo explains.

Little Tiny starts to mist up. “Man, I wish I had a friend like that. My brother and I were close, but he got killed in Iraq in the army. He stepped on a land mine. I never got close to anyone else after that, except for my
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mom and dad in Minnesota. It feels good to be hanging out with you guys. I feel the love, bro.”

The table falls silent and everybody looks at Little Tiny.

“What?” He sighs.

“You cool, man, and sorry to hear about your brother, but don’t be getting all sappy on us,” I tease.

“Whatever.” Little Tiny laughs as he wipes his eyes and pushes me in the arm. “Joe, you gonna eat that last piece of bacon, dude?”

Mo-Mo smiles, “LT, I thought you were on a diet, dude?”

“I never said I was on a diet, I said I was working out.

Get it straight, man,” he answers, grabbing the bacon off my plate and devouring it.

“Okay, people, let’s do this, and remember to be on high alert. Don’t fall too far behind us while we’re driving.” I feel a tremendous weight of responsibility for everyone involved. It’s a heavy load for my mind, that we’re facing mortal danger, but we have all committed to see this through.

Everyone agrees and we head for the exit. Little Tiny has the waitress charge the bill to the room and tells her to include a fifty-dollar tip for herself. When we get outside, Sweet St. Louis Slim stops us.

“Wait!”

Vernon asks with concern, “What’s up, Sweets?”

“Damn, I look good,” Sweets says as he makes a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree spin, and brushes off both sleeves of his sky-blue jacket.

Vernon takes his cigar out of his mouth and holds it between his big fingers. “Dude, you look like a big-ass piece of blue Jell-O.”

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Everybody rolls their eyes at Sweet St. Louis Slim as we laugh and walk toward our vehicles.

“Ain’t nobody bad like me!” Sweets yells as he smooths out his jacket and gives everyone the finger.

Chapter 12

Chase sits alone in her room at Dread’s estate. She has only considered suicide once before, when her parents died. She was sixteen years old and she held the bottle of aspirin in her hands with the cold glass of water, but could not force herself to take them. She threw the bottle against the wall. As it shattered, the white pills flew everywhere, just as her life did upon her parents’ death.

She felt as though she had lost the world. This morning brings the same morbid feelings of depression and hopelessness. Last night with Dread still has her nauseated.

She contemplated abandoning the case when she had the chance, but she has a job to do. Her orders are to bring down Dread, no matter what the cost. She struggles with the death and murders of others, and she feels she should have stopped them even if it meant her own life, but Agent James had told her that there would be
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friendly-fire casualties. Men involved in the black ring knew their risks.

She finds herself curled in the fetal position. The only thing she knows is that she’s not considering just her death, she will take Dread with her. Her only fear is damnation. She knows she’s not perfect. She’s in love with a married man. But she was taught that life is God’s gift, and to take it for selfish reasons would result in damnation. So suicide is not an option.

She had thought of just up and leaving when she found the chance and quitting the FBI, but now she has sacrificed too much. If she left now all those who died would have died for nothing. She got Joe and his friends into this and she’ll have to help get them out. She realizes that she’ll have to stay in long enough to make sure Joe is safe, and she’ll make a decision about her future in law enforcement when the time is right.

She wonders what Joe will think of her once he finds out the extent of the sacrifices she’s had to make to ensure this case is solid. Tears form in her eyes and anger overtakes her as she replays all the awful things that she has had to endure. She knows in the end it will all be bullshit and the piece of her dignity that she has sacrificed will never be regained.

Chase knows she has been changed and someone needs to pay for that change. She resolves that someone will.

“Chase, you need to get up, darling. I’ve already called in for us, I told them I was taking out a team on a stakeout to set up for another drug bust. We have to get da badges back from dat Kansas City prick detective. He does not know who I am. I will call him before noon and set up an accident. I will make sure he brings the guns and da
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badges. I admire dis Johnson. He would make a good ad-versary, I think,” Dread says as he dries his black hair with his bath towel, leaving himself exposed.

Wondering how to warn Joe of this imminent danger, she says “Dread, wouldn’t it be easier to bring him on board? A person this elusive and resourceful could be good for your organization, don’t you think?”

Dread stops drying his long hair and tilts his head raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Maybe. But I have to teach dis guy a lesson for fucking wit’ my men. An example has to be made. Yes, an accident is in his near future. You get dressed, meet me and da boys downstairs for a discussion. Then, we’ll go to Kansas City and get away for a couple of days. We’ll spend some time in da Plaza area you like so much. You got twenty-five minutes,” Dread orders as he leaves the room.

She thinks of Smelley, and fear engulfs her body.

She has to warn Joe somehow. She grabs her cell phone, rushes into the bathroom and locks the door behind her.

She turns on the shower and calls Agent James.

“Agent James here,” he answers.

She gathers her nerves, excited energy edges her every word.

“They’re planning to kill Detective Johnson. You have to warn him. Dread is going to set up a bogus meeting and try to drive them off the road.”

“Just calm down, Agent Chase. I know this is a trying time, but Johnson is very resourceful. He’s already called in and we have a helicopter on standby in Omaha. Have you retrieved the information we talked about yet?”

“Did you hear what I just said? They’re going to kill Johnson!” she says into the phone.

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After a pause he replies, “Agent Chase, do you think it’ll do us any good if Johnson is killed and we don’t have that information on the black ring? I heard you loud and clear. Now, did
you
hear
me?
We need to know who is pulling Dread’s strings. You do whatever you can do to make sure Detective Johnson is not killed without blowing your cover. Get that information so we can get you out of this mess and take that asshole down. You got me, Agent Chase?”

She slumps against the bathroom door, tears running down her face. “Yes, I got it!” She hangs up and hides the phone in her closet. She takes off her panties and bra, and gets into the hot shower thinking of her next move.

She slams her palm against the wall and tears stream down her face. She feels she is becoming lost in this game of cops and killers. She has sacrificed her principles, her convictions and her body. Her loyalty to the department is running out like sand in an hourglass. She wonders if it is all worth it, but she started this job and she damn well is going to finish it. She lets the hot water beat against her skin and pulsate her thoughts into a plan that gives her satisfaction. A sinister smirk forms across her face. “Whatever happens, I have to protect Joe from getting killed,” she says to herself.

She enters the kitchen in her mother’s old Rockhurst College sweatshirt and a pair of blue jeans. The whole crew is seated around the table, drinking coffee and eating bagels.

“’Bout time, baby. I was beginning to worry ’bout you,” Dread complains.

Chase just sits down and pours herself a cup of hot
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coffee. Brutus winks at her, and the others act as though she isn’t even there.

Dread pulls out his cell phone, dials Joe’s number and places his cell on speakerphone.

“Johnson here.”

Chase wants to melt when she hears his deep voice.

She bites her tongue to keep from screaming out to him that he is in danger and is being set up.

“Johnson, dis is Dread Cattanno. My men tell me dat you are interested in meeting. Your resourcefulness last night impressed me. You have something you need to return to my men, no?”

“Yes, I do, and I’d love to meet with you. I don’t understand why I got such a welcome from you. I was just coming down here to make some quick cash and you’re the man to make that happen.”

“Well, I’m sorry ’bout dat, but you don’t come wit’

references, now, do you? But, enough small talk. Do you like history, Detective?” Dread asks.

“It all depends. I do come with a reputation as a bad ass, as your men have told you.”

Dread sucks his teeth, unimpressed. “Have you heard of Scotts Bluff National Monument off Highway 92?

It’s where the Horse Creek Treaty was signed by da largest gathering of Indians in American history. The treaty was signed to ensure safe passage of westward-bound pioneers and to end tribal warfare within da Native American Indian tribes. Meet us at da crest of Scotts Bluff. You are not to worry. It’s a tourist attraction, so there will be lots of folks around.”

“Okay, Scotts Bluff it is. When do you want to meet?”

Dread looks at his watch. “There’s no time like da
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present,” Dread says, checking his fingernails. “Let’s say in three hours.”

“I’ll see you there.”

Dread hangs up his phone. “Like a fly in a spider’s web! He’s been set up.”

His men get up from the table to get ready. Chase admires Joe. She’s never known him to back down from anything, but he’s gotten in over his head. He’s never met anyone like Dread before.

She grabs her travel cup and pours some more hot coffee into it. More than one “accident” is about to take place today. She realizes that Joe is her only hope of getting out of this alive.

She sits back at the table and waits for Dread as he looks up at the ceiling, running his hands through his hair and pondering something. He picks his up cell phone and dials a number. He winks at her as she sips her coffee.

He turns to the men who are checking their new weapons and loading additional rifles into the SUVs.

“Dread, do I have to go?”

He jerks up his hand to stop her conversation as he speaks into the phone. “It’s me. Yes, I am to meet wit’

him in about a few hours. I will get da badges and guns back.” He pauses and puts his free hand in his pocket, while shifting his weight. “Yes, I agree, someone will have to be made an example of. It will take place at Scotts Bluff.” He frowns. “What do you mean do not burn the bodies? Why not?” He rolls his eyes in frustration as he paces. “I know it’s a public place, that’s why I chose it, I did not want to make him suspicious.”

He sighs heavily. “Okay, I will do what you wish, but I feel very uncomfortable about dis. I will call you when
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it’s done. I will be in Kansas City for a few days after dat. You know how to contact me? Okay. Later.”

Dread hangs up the phone and turns to Chase. “What were you saying, my dear?”

“I asked, is it necessary for me to come today? I’m feeling like I’m about to start my period. I’m cramping really bad.”

“Well, you need to hurry and grab some pads and pain pills, ’cause you will be coming today,” he answers abruptly, shaking his head, blushing.

As she comes from the bedroom back down into the kitchen where he is waiting by the door, she asks, “So, Dread, who was that you were just talking to?You’re giving me the impression you’re answering to somebody.”

He takes a step toward her and she backs up. “It’s none of your fucking business who I talk to, and since when did you start fucking around in my business?

Dread answers to no one. He’s an advisor. That’s all you need to know. Now, go get in da’ fuckin’ truck!”

She does as she’s told. She decides to play Dread the way he is playing her: she will wait for the right time to turn the tide on his plans. It seems that Joe will at least be able to live another day. Somebody has given Dread the order not to kill and burn him. Please God, let Vernon not be with him. Joe will not know how to act if something happens to his partner. Someone will surely die if that happens. Dread is playing a deadly game and doesn’t even know it.

Chapter 13

We drive the long stretch of Highway 92. Vernon and I are in the Corvette. Driving behind us are Pretty Kevin and Mo-Mo in the front seat of their Suburban, along with Little Tiny, Sweet St. Louis and Agent Duvall, who are all sitting in the back.

The sun is up in the brilliant blue sky revealing God’s wonders—lush green mountains, colored birds flying around as though they are playing tag, cattle grazing on the wild grass in the vast fields, horses lazily wandering about, occasionally breaking into a gallop, seeming to dance in groups, wheeling and changing direction. A few prairie dogs stick their heads out nervously here and there.

For the first time I am relaxed and calm. The warm wind is soothing. I adjust my sunshades and enjoy the music of Santana. Vernon turns to me and lowers the volume of the music.

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“You know, I was thinking about something last night. I ain’t super religious, but I do go to church and believe in God, and I was just thinking about when Jesus was in the desert for forty days and nights and the devil came and tempted him…”

I look at Vernon from the corner of my eye, not knowing if I want to get into this conversation. We’ve really never directly talked about religion before and I wonder what is bringing this all on. “Yeah, I remember. The devil propositioned him with land, wealth and power.”