Sudden Impact (Tom Rollins Thrillers Book 13), page 7
“Nothing like that,” Tom says. “The two men you arrested the other night, at Laila North’s house, I’d like to talk to them.”
Roach raises an eyebrow. “You want to talk to them?”
Tom nods. He holds Roach’s eye.
Roach sighs. “Listen, Rollins, you know that’s not allowed, right?”
“You can accompany us.”
Roach is shaking his head. “Rollins, even if they were still here, I couldn’t let you –”
“They’re gone?” Tom says.
“Lawyered up. Paid bail.” Roach holds out his hands in a what-you-gonna-do gesture.
“So they’re gone, just like that?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“When?”
“Early this morning.” Roach checks the time. “About four hours ago, now.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
Again, Roach holds out his hands. “What can we do? They paid bail. Their lawyers came and collected them.” Roach looks around suddenly, then leans closer. “I don’t know what you’re not telling me, Rollins, but I can see from your face, and from the way you walked up here, that something more is going on. You don’t wanna tell me, then fine. That’s your choice. But whatever you want with those two men, be aware of this at least – I get the impression they’ve got powerful friends.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because of their lawyers. The two I arrested, they were just a couple of thugs, right? Well, these weren’t thug lawyers. They weren’t cheap, you understand? It didn’t strike me that the two we released were paying these lawyers direct.”
Tom grits his teeth. The throbbing in his head is coming back. “What about Laila and Emma?” he says. “They pose a risk to them both.”
Roach doesn’t respond straight away. He’s not leaning close anymore. “Rollins, I’m sorry. I wish I could do more, but you know how it is. My hands are tied. All of our hands are tied. The two we arrested, they didn’t actually do anything to Laila and Emma. They attacked you, and that’s what we were holding them on. Unless something actually happens to those two women, there’s nothing we can do. I hate it, I do, but that’s how it is.”
Tom doesn’t hang around. Without another word, he turns and leaves the station.
12
Tom goes to Laila. He drives straight to her house, but she’s not home. Tom goes to her work, and hopes she’s in the building and not out in the field. If she’s in the field, he’s not sure how he’ll find her. She has his number, but he doesn’t have hers.
He reaches the building and her Honda is parked outside. Tom doesn’t feel relief just yet. On foot, he mounts the steps and knocks on the door. The windows have venetian blinds, half-closed, and he can’t see inside.
He hears footsteps hurrying to the door. It opens, and Laila is there. She’s surprised to see him, but then she smiles, and then she leans forward to closer inspect his face and her smile turns into a frown. “Oh my God, Tom, what happened?”
“Can I come in?”
“Of course.” Laila steps aside.
Tom enters the building. It’s mostly work spaces, with microscopes and samples. Large refrigerators for storage. There are a couple of desks. One of them is neat and ordered, with papers piled in appropriate trays. The other is messy, papers scattered across it. Tom can guess which desk belongs to whom.
“Are you alone?” Tom says. There’s no sign of Emma.
“Just me,” Laila says. “Tom, are you going to tell me what’s happened?”
Tom goes to a window and peers out through the blinds. “Have you seen anyone today? Anyone watching? Anyone following?”
“No, I haven’t seen anyone.”
Tom nods and turns back to her. “I took a beating after locking the bar last night. There isn’t much more to it than that, but they made reference to the two men that came after you. And they made reference to you and Emma, too.”
Laila covers her mouth with a hand. “What did they say?”
“They warned me off. Said to keep my nose out of their business – and that the two of you are part of their business.”
“Who were they?”
Tom shakes his head. “I hadn’t seen them before.”
“They could have been sent by DuLac.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.” He tells her how the two men are no longer in custody. “I’m guessing those lawyers came from DuLac, too.”
Laila takes a seat. She stares at the ground, unblinking, her eyes moving left to right while she thinks. Slowly, she looks up. “I take it from your being here, you’re not heeding their warning.”
Tom forces a grin for her, to calm her, to reassure her. “Do you know how many times I’ve been warned off? I never listen.”
She laughs at this, but it’s a small laugh, and she doesn’t cover her mouth.
“I’m not going to leave you, okay?” Tom says. “It’s clear now that you’re being targeted. We need to stick together. And with Emma. Where is she?”
“She’s not hanging around,” Laila says. “She was shaken after the other night, those two men. Everything happening with them, and with DuLac. I told her to leave town, to take some time off until hopefully things are resolved.”
“That could take a long time.”
“I know, but I couldn’t keep her here with me and put her in danger like that.”
Tom remembers how Laila said Emma reminds her of her sister. “Where’s she going?”
“To stay with her parents,” Laila says. “They live just outside of Memphis.”
“Okay, that’s good. Has she left already?”
“Not yet. She’s going at the weekend. Her parents are going to come down and get her. Emma can’t drive. I offered to take her but she said she didn’t want to put me out.”
“Where is she now? Home?”
Laila nods.
“Call her. Tell her we’re coming to get her, and there’s no discussion. We’re taking her to Memphis. We stick together.”
13
Austin Myers sits alone in his office, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. His hands rest, fingers laced, upon his taut stomach. He’s lost in thought. He’s been the head of security for DuLac Chemicals for ten years. Austin enjoys his work. He likes being in control. Giving orders, and dealing with problems. Sometimes, though, it feels like he spends a little too much of his time behind the desk. It can be a struggle to stay in shape when he’s so sedentary all the time, but he manages it.
However, last night, getting out into the field and laying a beating on that bartender, it put the thrill back into the job. Too often he has to send others to do the dirty work. It’s good to remind himself just how it feels to get his own hands dirty. He hasn’t had the opportunity for a while.
He doesn’t know the bartender’s name, only that he was involving himself in DuLac business. Probably trying to impress the two women, Laila and Emma. In fairness to him, he did lay a pretty good beating on two of Austin’s men, and they were both touting knives. Maybe the bartender succeeded? Maybe the two women were suitably impressed. Not now, though. Not once they get a look at him.
Austin grins to himself. He looks down at his hands. They’re unmarked. There was little need to throw punches. Their boots did most of the work, as well as the blackjack he was swinging. No doubt the bartender is struggling to piss straight today. Austin almost laughs.
He has people looking into the man. To find out his name, his background. Just in case. Austin is confident they scared him off last night, but information is power, and it’s always worthwhile to know more about your enemy than they know about you.
Due to the nature of his work, Austin is usually on the move, going wherever DuLac Chemicals has an issue. Austin has always worked in security. He started out his career as a lowly night watchman, back in North Dakota. He hated it. It bored him to tears. He was always looking for an opportunity to leave, to branch out. That opportunity finally arrived, though it was a few years coming. A friend of his had been in the Army. He’d made the transition into private security. He got in touch with Austin. Said there was a job opportunity if he wanted it. Austin did. There was training involved. Military-level training. Austin ate it up. Loved every second of it. It finally felt like he was doing something he was born for.
The security they provided wasn’t just national. They worked overseas, too. They did a lot of work in Dubai. Austin developed a reputation. People liked him. He was efficient. He got the job done. He was reliable. And, when called for, he was brutal.
He enjoyed working private security. It felt like he’d finally found his calling. Plus, he made a lot of contacts. Became friendly with a lot of people who were ex-military. He keeps in touch with them. Some of them work with him at DuLac.
DuLac Chemicals approached him directly. Austin never applied to work for them. He was headhunted. They told him they liked what they’d heard, and they were prepared to offer him a lot of money for his services. It was a lot of money. Austin couldn’t turn them down. He brought some of his co-workers with him. Reached out to some of his newer ex-military friends, and invited them to join. Austin can’t deny the rush he gets from having ex-military answer to him, a man who has never served a day in his life.
Currently, the new DuLac project in Mississippi sees him occupying an office in downtown Natchez. The building is a converted factory. Outside his door, the floor is an open space, the workers on computers with only dividers between them. There’s a small kitchen area in the far corner where they can make coffee or tea, and microwave meals. Austin’s office would have most likely been the factory foreman’s. It gives him privacy. There’s a CCTV screen on his desk, so he can watch the people outside working. They know he’s watching. They keep their heads down. They behave themselves. None of Austin’s men, his security team, are out there. His men are in the field. They’re busy. Outside, at the desks, they’re all tech geeks.
Austin’s phone rings, tearing him from his blissful reverie. He glances at the screen. It’s Terry, one of his men. Terry was with him last night when they went to see the bartender. Since then, Austin has had him watching Laila. He told him to keep his distance after recent events, to make sure he wasn’t seen. Terry has been in the trees, lying flat, covered with a camouflage net and watching through binoculars. If he’s calling, Austin thinks it must be important. Something could be happening.
He answers the phone. “What have you got for me?”
Terry is in a car. Austin can hear it. “Laila’s on the move,” he says.
“Where’s she gone?”
“Two seconds,” Terry says, and Austin hears the car quieten. “We’re just parking up round the block, out of view.”
Terry is not alone. He’s with Kevin. Kevin was also present for last night’s beating. Kevin is presumably driving. While Terry was in the trees, watching, Kevin would have stayed with the car.
“She’s not alone,” Terry says when he comes back on the line.
“Who’s she with?”
“The guy from the other night who hurt Marshall and Jeremy,” Terry says. “The one we laid a beating on last night. The bartender, fisherman, whatever he is. Guess the message didn’t get through.”
Austin frowns. They’d beat him good. It should have been more than enough. He doesn’t jump to conclusions, though. “What are they doing?”
“They’ve just pulled up to Emma Killick’s place. I’m gonna go check. Figured you’d want an update first. I’ll call back.”
Austin hangs up the phone and sits forward in his chair. He warned the bartender not to get involved. To stay away from Laila and Emma. Less than twelve hours later, he’s with them both.
Austin gets to his feet and goes to his office door. He calls out onto the floor. “Who’s working on the barman?”
The geek closest to him gives a start and turns in his chair. “I – I am, sir.” He even raises his hand a little like he’s in school.
Austin turns his eyes upon him. An icy stare, just to put some discomfort into him. “You got a name yet?”
“Uh, I uh, I had to –”
Austin narrows his eyes. “You had to what?”
The geek swallows. “Ms Hardinge e-mailed. She wanted me to –”
“Ms Hardinge isn’t here,” Austin says, cutting him off. “I am. Whatever she asked for, leave it for now. Get me the barman’s name, history, anything else you can find. And fast. That clear?”
The geek nods. “Yes, sir. I’m right on it.” He doesn’t turn back to his computer.
Austin claps his hands together, causing him to start. “Then do it!”
The geek spins and starts typing.
Austin shakes his head and closes his office door. He returns to his desk, but Terry hasn’t called back yet. He starts pacing, impatient for an update.
Ten minutes pass. After fifteen, Austin starts to think about calling Terry back, in case something has gone wrong. He already knows the damage the bartender is capable of wreaking. If he spotted Kevin and Terry, he might have gone in on them the same way he did the other night with Marshall and Jeremy, the two men he’d assigned to Laila and Emma then.
After twenty minutes, Terry calls back. Austin can hear that they’re on the move again. “That was a longer wait than I was expecting,” Austin says.
“Sorry about that, but we had to be careful,” Terry says.
“What did you see?”
“They’re in Laila’s car, the Honda, but the barman’s driving. They came to Emma’s place and they loaded some bags into the trunk.”
“What kind of bags?”
“Travel bags.”
Austin perks up at this. “Oh really?”
“Yeah. Couple of suitcases, and a few smaller ones. They loaded them up, then they got back on the road – all three of them this time.”
“Sounds like maybe he did get the message,” Austin says. “And maybe the message has extended to the women, too.”
“Could be.”
“Where are you now?”
“We’re following. They’re heading north. We’ve just left Davenport. You want us to stick with them, or turn around and come back?”
“Stick with them,” Austin says. “It sounds like they’re leaving town, but I want to know for sure. Follow and see where they go. But Terry, keep your distance. Don’t let them see you. We know this guy’s observant.”
“Got it,” Terry says. “We’ll be in touch.”
Austin puts the phone down and returns to his chair. He leans back again, thinking this time. Thinking how maybe their problems in Davenport have finally been resolved. If he’s lucky, the three have split and he’ll never have to think about them again.
Though at the same time, part of him had hoped for a little more pushback from the bartender. Another excuse to get out there and personally hand out a beating, get his hands dirty again. Maybe even bury the motherfucker. It’s been a while since Austin last had to do anything like that.
Oh well, he thinks. Until the next time DuLac Chemicals encounters someone belligerent. He can be patient. He held out up to now, after all.
14
It’s a five-hour drive from Davenport to Memphis. Tom settles in, clearing his head, focussing only on the road and the mirrors. It helps him to ignore his various pains, especially the one in his lower back. Every so often he shifts, uncomfortable in the seat, trying to find a position where the bruise doesn’t burn or feel like a bed of nails driven directly into his kidney.
Laila sits beside him, her chin resting in her hand and her elbow on the arm rest. She stares out of the window, watching the scenery passing them by. She didn’t protest at Tom driving her car. They dropped his Ford off at the bar on their way to get Emma. Tom said it was best if they stuck to one vehicle.
Emma sits in the back. Tom glances at her in the mirror. She’s silent, distracted. Like Laila said, she’s shaken. He doesn’t blame her. She sits behind Laila, also staring out the window. When they first arrived to pick her up, she was horrified. She remarked on the bruises on his face and the scab on the right side of his head, mostly concealed by his hair. Tom and Laila brought her up to speed. They packed her bags. They hit the road. Since setting off, there hasn’t been much conversation. They stopped at a gas station to fuel up, as well as grab snacks and water. None of them has eaten anything yet.
Laila turns away from the window. “How are you doing?” she says. “You holding up?”
Tom nods.
“I can drive if you need me to.”
“I’m okay for now. Another couple of hours and we’ll see where we’re at.”
Laila pauses a moment. She’s watching him. He can feel her eyes. “It’s more than just your face though, isn’t it? I’ve noticed the way you wince. How you move. You keep shifting like your back hurts.”
“That’s because my back hurt,” Tom says, and tries to smile at her but she doesn’t smile back. She’s concerned about him.
“What did they do?”
“They did a number to my kidney is what they did,” Tom says. There’s no reason to keep it secret.
“Just the one?”
“So far as I can tell.”
“Which one?”
“The right.”
“What did they do? Did they hit you with something?”
“I couldn’t tell what it was. A pipe or a blackjack or whatever. Hell, could’ve just been a fist wrapped in something for all I know. I wasn’t looking. They blindsided me. And they must have been good, because I’m careful.”
“I’ve noticed that,” Laila says.
“They got the drop on me.” Tom shrugs. “They managed to sneak up on me. It happened. It’s done. It’s frustrating, and I’m annoyed at myself that they were able to do that, but it’s done now.”
They drive in silence for a few miles, then Emma leans forward. “Kidneys are pretty serious though, right?”
“I’ve got two,” Tom says.
