Fatal Chances (The Red Lake Series Book 5) Read online

  *

  The next day Barton and Harry took the houseboat out. Summer was in full swing on the lake. Power boats cut the water up into a crisscross chop despite the lack of any breeze which left sailboats rocking on the confused waters with their sails luffng and halyards clanging against the masts. People hung out on boat docks while children played on floats. An occasionally a water skier challenged the conditions but the good skiers stayed home and waited for the late afternoon calm.

  From the comfort of the air conditioned salon they had a clear view of Donatello's house across Gulls Bay. Barton pulled out a pair of Cannon image stabilized binoculars. Harry had a Nikon camera with a 300 mm lens. The drapes of the house were open but no body seemed to be about.

  "Vito has lost his bodyguards."

  "After what we did to him he must be a horny bastard to take that sort of risk."

  "I doubt he wants to let people know if in fact he does have a house guest."

  While they talked there was movement in the house, both honed their focus on the sliding glass doors which glinted in the light as they opened. The girl who stepped out had her face down looking at something on the deck. In her left hand was a drink, from beneath the waves of her dark hair the wires of a earbuds ran down to a phone or i-pod conveniently tucked into the bra cup of her bikini. When she looked up Barton recognized Carmen from the photo which definitely failed to do her justice.

  Harry let out a slow wolf whistle, "I guess that tells you why Donatello is willing to put his head on the chopping block.."

  "She' not that good." Barton said with flat indifference.

  "I think she looks damn good!"

  "No woman is ever as good as a guy in heat thinks she is."

  Carmen arranged herself in a chaise lounge beneath the shade of an umbrella. She didn't need to tan, she was already a golden brown. Even at a distance one could see her head gently bobbing along with the tune playing in her ears.

  A beer-and-a-half later Donatello came out on the deck. He wore a broad brim straw hat, heavy gold chains swung out away from his chest as he bent over to kiss Carmen, who wrapped her arms up around his neck and was slow to let go. In the salon the shutter click and whirr of the Nikon's auto drive was the only sound."

  Vito finally freed himself from her clutches and waved a red, white, and blue parcel in his hand. He bent over again, gave her another kiss and as he let his other hand grope her breast. Again Harry's Nikon whirred. Donatello turned and left. Carmen adjusted the top of her bikini and her ear buds, then lay back.

  "I think she's home alone," Barton said as he lowered his lens.

  "What now?" Harry asked as he set the camera down and went to the fridge for beer. "Are you going to let her father know?"

  "I don't know." Barton was introspective, facing a moral dilemma, something that did not often arise for a contract mercenary. "If we send her back I think her life will be hell. If I don't tell Rico Marcelli I will be blamed and burn a bridge we have both found useful. Also, Donatello will be dead."

  "I have no problem with that!"

  Barton made a wry smile, "Neither do I."

  Across the bay, Carmen stood up and disappeared inside. A few minutes later she returned with a fresh drink and her hair pulled back in a ponytail.

  "Let's go talk to her!"

  Harry undid the halter of the dinghy that trailed behind the houseboat's stern. They boarded and Harry took the oars, pulling in long easy strokes with a long layback. With Barton in the stern the bow rode high.

  "Not much of a get-away vehicle if Donatello comes back."

  "Does that really worry you, Dirk?" A question to which Barton laughed.

  They nosed into the shore, close to the point, and beached the dinghy on a sandy bar below a wooded section of land. Harry tied the line off to a sapling. Each checked their handgun, freed the safety and stuck the barrel into the waist of their shorts. They walked along the shore until they neared the house. Harry nodded toward the deck.

  "Montoya hired you, so you take the girl. I'll clear the house and take care of Donatello if he becomes a problem."

  "Watch your back, Harry! He see's you and he'll be shooting! First for the beating you gave him, secondly cuz he's alone which scares his type, and but most importantly because he's going to think we were sent to kill him."

  "Were you?" It was a question Harry never asked about Dirk's darker work.

  "Not yet, and I don't mean to. Taking Donatello has too many strings attached."

  Harry moved casually along the property line, favoring the edge of the pine woods. When he was abreast of the house he made a dash for the lower level and moved into the shadows under the upper deck. He checked the first bedroom looking through the window, it was empty, as was the next one. The patio door opened silently and he moved quickly through the lower level. Upstairs it was quiet. Harry mounted the stairs. He knew that Barton would move after a count of thirty. From the stairwell he could see the living room was empty. The drapes swayed in a light breeze that was rising and beyond the open sliders he could see the back of Carmen's head and shoulders. His time was almost up. Lightly he dashed to the bathroom door, saw it was clear and rolled around the corner of the jamb and into the kitchen with his gun drawn.

  Barton gave a slow count. They both sensed that Carmen was alone, but taking chances could prove fatal. Reaching thirty, Dirk sprinted across the lawn, took the wooden deck stairs two at a time, and moved in on Carmen, all the while watching her hands. More than one grunt died because he underestimated a woman.

  Carmen felt a shadow fall upon her. When she opened her eyes she saw a large black man holding a pistol, the barrel of which was a large evil eye. She reached up to remove her sunglasses, the gun twitched and the dark hand tensed. Carmen moved her hand very slowly and removed her shades. Her dark eyes seemed sad, but perhaps Barton imagined that.

  "I suppose my father sent you," she spoke with resignation.

  "Let's go inside."

  Harry waited in the kitchen, keeping watch on the driveway from the window.

  When Carmen stood up it was obvious there was no place for her to hide a weapon. She moved toward the house, her shoulders slumped and her head down. Entering the living room, Barton gestured toward the dining room table where they both sat on hard chairs. Once again being cautious, weapons could be hidden under sofa cushions.

  Carmen's head came up as her eye caught a glimpse of a man in he kitchen, the word Vito began to come from her lips and then died as she realized it was a stranger. The fact he too held a gun did not trouble her, Carmen's entire life had been lived around men who wore guns as normal men do a coat or hat.

  "Please don't hurt him when he comes back?" she asked with a beggars tone in her voice. Barton expected the girl to be spoiled and imperious, a girl who was accustomed to getting what she chose. The fact she was not trying to boss him or make demands and threats was worthy of note.

  "Where'd Donatello go?"

  "The post office and the store."

  Listening, Harry made a mental calculation of how long it was since Donatello left and figured they had a minimum of twenty minutes or more. Likely more with summer season traffic.

  Sitting across from Carmen, Barton put his gun away, rested his elbows on the table, and lightly folded his hands. "Why are you here?" he asked.

  "I love him!"

  Even coming from a nineteen year old with an infatuation the words rang false.

  "Bull! What are you doing here Carmen?"

  She shrugged and tears formed in her eyes. "I wanted to leave home and he was the only one I knew who might help."

  "Why?"

  "Because everyone is afraid of my father!" Her lower lip curled out in a small pout and her clenched fist came up to her lips. Barton thought she might cry but she wiped away the tear that escaped with the back of her hand.

  "I meant why did you want to leave home?"

  For the first time Barton noticed a spark of defiance in her eyes.


  "Because I have no friends, no freedom, not even my body is my own!"

  Anger and hate took charge of her face as the musculature tensed and the eyes narrowed.

  The first two comments were typical of adolescents that Barton encountered but the last one was a red flag to him having dealt with human traffickers before.

  "Were you being prostituted?" Barton knew men who readily sold their daughters.

  "No. It was my father, I was his favorite." The anger gave way to a bitter voice and haunted eyes. "I was his Little Girl, his Angel, his Darling, his Sweet." The names came out in sing-song until she paused and then spat out the words, "I was his whore since I was fourteen!" She sucked air in through her nostril like a thoroughbred before a race, her muscles tightened and her hands shook as she exuded rage from every pore on her body.

  "I'm sorry," Barton said softly. What else was there to say? Other than to hunt the man down and kill him.

  For a time there was only the hum of boats on the water, the buzz of a fly against the glass and the rustle of the wind moving through the trees.

  From the kitchen Harry caught Barton's eye, and twirled his hand as if to say, hurry up.

  Finally, Carmen tentatively asked, "Are you taking me back?"

  "You can't stay here. If we can find you, so will others. If they find you with Donatello, he'll be dead. It may be too late for him already."

  A slight shrug moved her shoulders as if to say his death was not of great concern.

  "Get your things. Every minute counts. We will figure out what to do later. But if you stay I think you realize things will not end well."

  Barton was not sure if she thought he would kill Donatello if she stayed but for whatever reason she rose. "Okay, I'll pack."

  He followed her downstairs to the master bedroom and watched closely what went into her suitcases.

  "Do you mind if I change?"

  "Go ahead." Barton was not going to leave her alone, he trusted no one.

  Realizing he was not leaving or closing his eyes, she turned her back to him dropped her swimsuit to the floor and dressed in shorts and a t-shirt.

  "What about your money?"

  "So that is what you really want. How do you know about that?"

  Barton ignored her questions. "Where is it?"

  "It is in the wall safe." She pointed toward a rather inferior oil painting on the wall.

  Barton pulled the artwork down, took his fist and pummeled the drywall surrounding the safe. It crumbled to dust and as he pulled sections away it was apparent the safe was poorly installed, being merely mounted along two studs.

  Harry came into the room. Barton nodded toward the doors. "Get going!"

  Harry scooped up Carmen's bag's, grabbed her elbow with his other hand and steered her toward the door. She did not resist. Behind them came the sound of splintering wood and a dull clunk as Barton unleashed a flurry of kicks that broke the studs and the small wall safe fell to the floor. The metal box had short pieces of 2x4 still attached but it was small, Dirk easily scooped it up and trotted after Harry and Carmen.

  *

  Vito was pleased with himself. The package he mailed off would be his insurance. If it fell into the governments hands Marcelli would only see blue sky again if they put a skylight in his coffin. The papers Vito carefully collected over the years might not fell the entire Las Vegas organization but it would bring caution to those who might want to strike out at him.

  Coming back from town he cursed the slow crawl of traffic and wished he had taken the launch, the water was the only sure way to make good time. As he neared his house thoughts of any problems from Vegas faded as he thought of Carmen in her bikini.

  That won't stay on for long!

  It never crossed Vito's mind why she came to him. His inflated ego made him believe it was his charm. His over estimation of his virility told him it was his prowess in bed. It never occurred to him that he was only a ticket out.

  The gates swung open, and he mentally urged them to be faster. He cruised up the drive faster than safe and skidded to a stop under the portico.

  Eagerly he called out, "Hey Chiquita I'm home!" as he opened the downstairs door. He set a bag of groceries on the stairs and went down the hall to take a Viagra. His head still ached from the last dose he took.

  Was it possible to overdose? But what a way to go!

  He hurried into the bathroom and took two pills, twice his usual dose. It was only then he noticed the mess in the bedroom, the shattered studs and the hole in the wall left him shocked and feeling sick. The safe held his and Carmen's stash, not to mention papers that could save or take his life.

  Vito flung open the closet bi-folds, tearing them off their tracks. The bitches bag was gone, as were her clothes!

  He opened the dresser drawer and pulled out a handgun. Cautiously he crept upstairs, but all was still. The sliders were open but the house was empty. On the deck he found Carmen's drink, small bits of ice still floated in it.

  That fucking cunt can't be far away!

  Vito was filled with rage as his false assumptions that he was desirable were replaced by the idea he had been used. Looking down to the lake he realized the launch was gone from his dock. He pulled a cell phone from his pocket.

  "911 what is your emergency?"

  "Somebody has stolen my boat!"

  Vito did not give a damn about the boat, but it was the only way he could think of to find the little bitch.

  Jimmy Hughes heard the radio call to be on the lookout for a mahogany Chris-Craft stolen from the north-west shore of the lake. That limited it to probably a couple dozen boats, most people preferred the easy maintenance of fiberglass. He opened the throttle of his patrol boat and the bow rose as the throaty roar of the V-8's and rooster tail kicked out the back.

  He headed west, curving around tacking sailboats who now heeled on a fine breeze. The bow rose and plunged over innumerable wakes of other powerboats but slowly the wind was organizing the waves into an easterly flow. Mid-lake he spotted Harry Grim at the helm of his houseboat. Jimmy looked for Paula, who cut a fine form in a swimsuit, but it seemed Harry was alone.

  Deputy Hughes paced alongside a Chris-craft but the numbers were wrong, he pealed off and continued toward the far shore. It was an hour later when he spotted the boat tied up behind the Prop Shop, a dumpy bar for wastrels operating in an old Quonset hut across the highway from the county airstrip.

  *

  Vito received good news - bad news from the cops. His boat was found, but no witnesses or fingerprints were found. The deputy he spoke with assured him it was probably teenagers on a joyride. He was told it could be recovered at the sheriffs boat dock down near Waterfront Park.

  For the first time Vito wondered if Carmen had been taken. The boat near the airport made one think an airplane was waiting. And then he realized it was unlikely if not impossible that she could have broken out the safe, at least alone. Fear rose in his gut.

  But if Montoya found her why weren't shooters waiting for him at his house?

  Then the thought of a bomb came to mind and he felt an urge to flee the house.

  No, Salvador is more likely to use a chainsaw than a bomb. Knowing how the Cuerpos Cartel boss would wield the saw slowly upon him while he was alive caused Vito to shudder.

  Afraid to stay at home, he got in his car and drove north. Gradually the lake narrowed and then the road left it behind and the highway twisted and curved along the banks of the Forks River. A green road sign announced 'Entering: Masson Forks, Pop. 612' when he saw a sign for Abbey's Diner he pulled in even though he lacked an appetite. He needed a safe place to think. He had no cash until he went to the bank and if he used his credit cards there would be a trail.

  "Coffee?" A pleasant face woman asked.

  Vito pushed the cup toward her and nodded his head which throbbed with a Viagra headache. Down below an unneeded and unwanted drug induced bulge in his pants made him shift around on the red vinyl seat. Can it get any worse?
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  Chapter Twenty

  Surprisingly, the Honolulu to Denver flight was only two thirds full. Paula found she had luxury of two empty seats beside her. The Pacific Ocean lay 35,000 feet below, under a layer of leaden clouds. She was unsure if going home was the right thing to do, but running certainly was not. In the back of her mind was the nagging thought of a rising credit card balance and a falling checking account drained through automated teller machines.

  Harry and her needed to talk. That was that! However, it wasn't a conversation one could have on the phone. They would talk when she was back in Red Lake.

  Paula straightened up in her seat, as though proud she had confronted something.

  *

  Harry picked up the mail at his office. Barton and Carmen were back at the cabin. So, far it was unresolved what to do. He sat at his desk and quickly thumbed through the envelopes, flipping some into a recycle bin, others set aside to deal with later, and occasionally taking the time to open a few. The one he hoped for was not there. Bills were coming in and he needed to fill his bank account.

  Having neglected his office work he spent sometime sorting papers, making notes and filing papers away. It was when he went to get more paperclips from Paula's desk drawer that he spotted the Priority Mail envelope that missed the basket below the mail slot on his office door, and when he came in, the door sweep pushed it aside.

  He smiled when he saw the return address for UBI. Inside the sleeve was a check for $200 K and a brief letter.

  Dear Mr. Grim,

  Attached is a check for two hundred thousand dollars, your discovery fee of ten percent.

  As agreed in our negotiations at this time we will not pursue false filing charges against Ms. Donatello. Such litigation would be messy, time consuming, expensive, and confusing due to her use of double identities.

  However, if you should have contact with her, please inform her our check has been canceled. If we discover an attempt was made to either deposit or cash it we will proceed with criminal fraud charges.