Hot Rocks (18 page)

forty-three

Bob and I rose
and crossed into the storage room to Bruce’s chair, stopping far enough away that he couldn’t kick us.

“Ready to tell me what I want to know?” I said.

He nodded, his forehead a mass of wrinkles.

“Bob? Would you do the honors?”

“My pleasure.” He ripped the tape from Bruce’s mouth.

Bruce groaned. “Please. My legs are on fire, every muscle is cramping. I have to get up. Please help me to my feet. Let me walk’m off. I’m dying here.”

I had to give Dot her due. She had been right-on from the beginning. Her nonviolent technique had reduced Bruce to the equivalent of melting Jell-O. He was mine now.

I turned to Bob, then to Street and Bridge who’d followed us. “Cut him loose from the chair and help him stand. If he tries anything, kick him in the legs. That’ll slow him down.”

With my foot, I swept the tacks out of the way, then realized Dot wasn’t there. I turned and saw her coming through the door.

“Damn, deary, you had four aces. I sure didn’t see them comin’. Beat the heck out of my little straight. You woulda took me for everything. Too bad we didn’t finish the hand. You just go on with what you’re doing. I’ll divide the pot ’tween us since we didn’t git to show the cards. Rules is rules.”

All I could do was hope I had better luck with Bruce. Dot was way beyond me.

David and Bob each held one of Bruce’s arms and escorted him around the room. He wasn’t exactly limping, more of a hop, hop—one foot to the other. Street and Bridge walked behind them, Street with Dot’s stick and Bridge with Bob’s shotgun. Things appeared under control.

When his hop-hops had transitioned to shuffle-shuffles, I said, “Put him back in his chair. I’m finished with the show part of the evening. It’s time for tell.”

They followed my instructions with no resistance from Bruce. “Do I need to tape you down?” I asked.

Bruce shook his head. “I’ve met my match. Ask your questions. I’ll answer any that I can.”

I pulled a chair over and sat. “From the top: Who’s your boss? Where does he live? What kind of import/export business is he in? What was in the briefcase that disappeared?”

Bruce took a deep breath. “Diamonds. A million dollars worth of diamonds. Enough to turn any man into a thief. His name is Anthony Tomasco, and he’s the owner of Tomasco Import/Export Limited. He brings in anything he thinks he can sell—legal or illegal. He has homes all over the country. The one you visited is in Boca, but there’s also Dallas, Los Angeles, Seattle, and Long Island.” He paused. “Did I answer everything?”

“Yes, I think so. You gave a good summary. Now—”

“Want I should help, Beth? I’d love to mess up his face. I hate pretty boys.”

Without my hearing her, Dot had moved beside me. The expression on her face said she meant every word.

“No,” I said, letting my annoyance slip in. “There’ll be no rough stuff. He’s cooperating.”

“Deary, if the shoe was on the other foot, you can bet he’d be slappin’ the shit outta you. You too soft. One of these days, it’ll come back and bite you in the ass.”

“Maybe, but we’ll do it my way.” I looked at Bruce. “At least as long as he answers my questions.”

“Well, when you wake up, I’ll be standin’ by.” She stared at Bruce. “Ever had a tack driven into the palm of your hand? Hurts like hell. Wanna see the scars?” Without waiting for his response, she walked toward the door, chuckling under her breath.

I leaned toward Bob and whispered, “Would she?”

He nodded.

Putting Dot out of my mind, I returned my attention to Bruce. “Okay, let’s begin to flesh out some of those answers. Take it from the top and don’t leave anything out.”

“I didn’t know you existed until you stuck yourself in front of me when I was following Jacobs. I had no idea what the hell was happening, just that you were interfering with my mission—”

“Which was?”

“Follow Jacobs, make sure he made the meet and traded the briefcase for another one. I didn’t know what was in either of them, but I found out when I reported back to Tomasco. He was furious that I broke off the surveillance. I told him you went into the room, then shots were fired. To me, that meant the cops would soon be on the way, so I got the hell out of there.”

Not the information I needed. I knew what happened in that room, or thought I did. If Bruce couldn’t stick with a surveillance, that was his problem. “Back to Tomasco. He’s my target.”

“Okay. You’ve got the junk yard dog. Where’d that crazy woman go? Is she still here?” His head swiveled as if he hoped to see through the blindfold.

Over the next two hours, I asked and re-asked every question I could think of, trying to learn as much about Tomasco as I could. The more I knew, the better plan I could develop to get him out of my life. Bruce’s answers carried the ring of truth, satisfying me I didn’t need Dot again.

When it was over, I was confident I knew everything about Anthony Tomasco that Bruce knew. A disappointment was that Tomasco used cell phones and had no fixed communications. He had latched onto throwaways as soon as they became available because they did not give his location away. When I spoke with him the previous evening, he could have been in Boca Raton or Rio de Janeiro, and I wouldn’t have known the difference. Bruce didn’t know Tomasco’s current whereabouts, only that he’d last seen him during our visit to the Boca mansion.

Since my original plan had been to confront Tomasco, not knowing where he was put me in a quandary. I needed a new plan, and that meant I needed time to think. “Sorry, Bruce, but the tape goes back on.” I studied him. He was a beaten man. “If you promise to keep your mouth shut, I could skip it—but the blindfold stays on.”

forty-four

Bruce gave me a
look of surrender. “I’ll stay quiet. Do what you have to do.”

Once he was secure, I walked over to Bridge. “Please keep an eye on Bruce while I speak to the others.” I switched my attention to Bob, David, and Dot. “Can we talk?”

We walked into the dormitory, and David and I sat on one bunk while Bob and Dot sat across from us. “My problem is I need to confront Tomasco. He has to know he can’t mess with me and those I care about.”

Bob stared at me as he pulled the scarf off the lower part of his face, then turned away, a frown crinkling his forehead. “I like you, Beth, and I think you’re a pretty capable woman. But facing down an international criminal seems a bit out of your range. Why don’t you just go to the police with what you know?”

“Ha,” Dot said.

I wasn’t quite as derisive as Dot, but my skepticism won the day. “To the cops? So far, my track record with the authorities has not been sterling. Even if I threw the missing briefcase filled with diamonds on the counter, they’d laugh.” It was my time to go silent as I let the events of the past few weeks filter through my mind.

“I understand how you feel,” David said, “but Bob has a good point. This Tomasco character is most likely well-protected. Bodyguards, alarms, and who knows what-all. You’re out of your element.”

My expression must have carried images passed down by my grandmothers, who were two tough ladies. In a world run by and for men, they had cut wide paths.

David added in a rush, “I don’t mean just you. I mean anyone would be over their heads with this situation. It’s just not possible.”

“Yeah?” I said. “Stand back and watch. Anthony Tomasco has met his match this time. He’s going down.”

“Easy, kids,” Bob said. “Don’t go hostile at one another. If Beth’s serious, we’d best concentrate on a plan to penetrate his protection.”

“I’m serious,” I said. “You can bet on it.”

“Yeah, we’re serious,” Dot said.

“Dammit, Beth,” David said, exasperation oozing from his tone. “You are the most frustrating woman I’ve ever … uh, uh … treated for a lump on the head.”

I gave him my sweetest smile. “Yeah, I feel the same.”

“Seems pretty simple to me,” Bob said. “Nothing has really changed. Sooner or later, Tomasco will return to Boca. When he does, if she hasn’t come to her senses, Beth does her thing. I know a few folks in that area who can keep an eye on the place and let us know when he shows up.”

I chuckled. “Is there any place you don’t know a few folks?”

“Well, let me see. Most of those in Tallahassee moved over to New Orleans to work in the hurricane cleanup. So, I reckon I’m a bit thin there.” He stood. “Let’s go ask our new friend about the security arrangements at the Boca estate.”

_____

Bruce’s briefing consisted of the proverbial good news, bad news. The bad news was Tomasco’s house was like a fortress. He employed perimeter guards and had alarms in layers. Four men patrolled the grounds during the hours of darkness, one at each point of the compass. They were members of a local gang who spent most of their spare time knocking off 7-Elevens and bragging on street corners. Most had criminal records and had done hard time.

After hearing that, I was ready for better news and Bruce came through. On a scale of one to ten, Bruce rated the local gang members no more than a three. He figured their bravado and loyalty would last as long as they held the upper hand and had superior numbers. They were armed, but for bragging purposes only. They couldn’t hit a 747 at seven paces. They’d do more damage if they threw their fancy weapons.

He continued. “Tomasco won’t allow the guards inside his house and is lax about using the alarms when he’s in residence. He lives alone with an occasional female visitor.” He winked at me. “The bought-and-paid-for kind. He trusts no one—he has no friends. Anthony Tomasco is a modern-day Midas—only gold interests him. His greed knows no bounds.”

“So, how do I account for you, Gerald, and Lodo? You were inside the house.”

“True, but that was a special situation. And, I’m not one of his local thugs. I have my own security company and a day-to-day contract with Mr. Tomasco to perform, uh, certain activities. I allowed him to make you part of the deal. I made a mistake, one I deeply regret. And, before you ask, Gerald and Lodo work for me, not Tomasco.”

I felt like going into the other room and spending an hour or so meditating on what Bruce was telling me—or banging my head against the wall. How much truth was he giving me? How much should I trust him? Since I didn’t have the luxury of time, I plowed on. “What are Gerald and Lodo doing now?”

“Probably home with their families. It is past the bewitching hour, and they’re off-duty.”

My befuddlement factor was rocketing skyward. “If I hit Tomasco’s house, where do you stand?”

“Depends. I usually sell to the highest bidder.”

“Gerald and Lodo?”

“Like I said, they work for me.”

I looked at Bob, who shrugged, then both of us shifted our eyes toward David. He gave us a
beats-me
gesture.

I leaned back in my chair and studied Bruce, the first wisps of an idea forming.

forty-five

“Bruce,” I said, “let
me recap a bit. You have a private security company with Gerald and Lodo on the payroll. Is that right?”

“Yes,” he said, then followed with, “Why don’t you take off this blindfold? You can see I’m neutralized.”

“Maybe after a few more questions. What kind of contract do you have with Tomasco?”

He said nothing for several seconds. “Take off the blindfold, and I’ll work with you any way I can. Like I said, Tamasco is no friend of mine.”

I nodded at Bob, who freed Bruce’s eyes.

After a few moments of blinking and squinting, he gave me his full attention. “Day-to-day. Personal services. Specific duties undefined. He asks, and I either say yes or no. Of course, if I say no, I don’t get paid.”

“Seems reasonable. Suppose you got a better offer?”

“It would have to be something I couldn’t turn down. Even in my business, there are credibility issues. If word gets around that I switch sides at the drop of a dime, I’ll soon be unemployed.”

“Pretty words that didn’t answer my question. Let’s suppose someone offered you your freedom for a one-event contract. What would you say?”

Bruce chuckled. “Somehow I suspected we’d get back to my survival.” He glanced at Dot. “Let’s just say I didn’t make it this long by acting like an idiot.”

“So, in such a situation, you’d be free to work with someone else?”

“Basically. But there would be stipulations.”

“Such as?”

Bruce grinned. “Look. Can we stop peeking around corners? If you want to hire me, it can be done. However, for my professional standing, I could never go against him one-on-one. The best I can do is help in some unseen capacity.”

“Hold that thought,” I said. “I need to consult with my associates.” Nodding at Dot, I said, “Don’t let him leave.” I stood and started toward the door, waving David and Bob to come with me. Oops. Had I left the cat watching the canary? “Don’t hurt him. Okay?”

“Shit,” I heard as I walked into the dormitory. David and Bob joined me.

“I’m not going to like this, am I?” David said. “You’re going to do something stupid and dangerous.”

“Me?” I said, taking his hand and squeezing. “You know better.”

_____

For the next twenty-four hours, the hands on the clock moved like they were blazing trails through molasses on a cold day in Alaska. The first couple of hours went the fastest as Bruce and I arrived at a meeting of the minds. He called it a contract while my choice was an accommodation. We agreed I wouldn’t turn him over to Dot, and he would do what I needed.

I had a few calls from blocked numbers, but ignored them, assuming it was Tomasco calling from some place in the world. Likewise with Bruce’s phone, which I kept in my possession.

At daylight, Bob dispatched Street and Blister to make contact with their friends who worked the beach in Boca Raton. We had to know if Tomasco was in residence. I hoped he was. The tension was killing me. I needed to get it over with so I could go back to hunting the slobs who left me with a severe headache and set me up for murder—not to mention assorted attempts to turn me into roadkill.

David left soon thereafter to clean up and make his rounds at the hospital. He had a full day of appointments ahead but promised to return as soon as he could. We both hoped it would be by six, no later than seven.

Dot and Bridge kept an eye on Bruce. Since he was now an ally, or I wanted to believe he was, he was loose and free to move around. However, I felt confident he wouldn’t pull anything with Dot on his case. She’d like nothing better than to cut him off at the knees, or maybe a bit higher.

Bob and I watched morning TV, catching up on the news. It only took about thirty minutes to learn what the cable news stations knew and commercials filled twenty minutes of that. Then, it was the same thing in a repetitious loop—different faces, same teleprompters.

The day dragged on.

Mid-afternoon, there was a knock on the back door. Bob opened it with me in backup position, my .32 by my leg. Gerald and Lodo stood there. Their expressions told me nothing, except they had followed Bruce’s instructions to show up at the bar.

“Come in,” I said. “Bruce has a new contract. Follow me.”

I walked toward the storage room, knowing Gerald and Lodo followed, with Bob bringing up the rear.

“Dammit, old woman,” I heard Bruce say. “You cheat. You had that same ace two hands ago and the cards haven’t been shuffled.”

Dot cackled. “I knowed you couldn’t take losing to a lady. Told you blackjack was a girly game. Now, if you want to switch to five-card stud, we can play some real poker.”

Bruce said, “Okay, but the deal changes with each hand. No way you’re going to keep bottom dealing me. At least half the time I’ll know my cards are from the top of the deck.”

“Hold the game,” I said. “Bruce has company.”

“Not now,” Dot said. “We was jist upping the ante to five dollars. Right, Brucey?”

He handed her twenty dollars. “Take it. I’d rather give it to you than have you cheat me out of it. Hello, Gerald, Lodo. Come on in. We have some planning to do. But don’t play poker with this woman.”

“Keep your money, deary. Jist cut me in on the action. I ain’t had this much fun since … Well, better not tell you when that was.” Her cackle rang through the room again. “You best git over here, Bridge. Brucey’s gonna give us our assignments.”

Bruce looked at me with a
do I have to
look. I smiled and shrugged. “Better to have her working with you than working against you.”

Bob’s cell phone rang and he walked into the sleeping area to answer it. A few minutes later, he was back. “Tomasco is in residence.”