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“Oh yeah. And that’s being too kind to the son of a bitch.”
When her mother reached a shaking hand for the coffee in front of her, Tansy saw the bruises around her wrist. The ones she’d stopped paying attention to a very long time ago. “Yet you let him beat you… why?”
“Nothing more than I’ve seen most of my life. I never told you before, but Grampa Ned was a mean man too. He beat my mother and us kids. The old lush could never hold his liquor and drank like a fish. We learned to toe the line, especially Mom. She worked hard to keep a nice house, look after her slim body, and cook good meals. It’s not always easy, I know. I tried to do the same with your father.”
Tansy hadn’t known about the past. Before she could speak, swirling images and memories of her sweet grandma and a grumpy old man who’d give her candies entered. He died before she’d started school, and she’d all but forgotten him.
Carol sighed; the sound filled with a kind of weary acceptance. “I was never good enough. Truth is, I deserved what I got.”
A sudden flooding of anger, pain, and understanding came over Tansy. “No! Uh huh!” She slapped the table and shook her head vehemently. “No one deserves to be hit like that. No one.” Guilt crawled into her, and she knew God had found a way to make her see the light inside her own dark soul. To make her understand her own culpability. Hadn’t she left the same bruises on others… kids who never deserved her meanness. “Oh, Mom. I have a confession… so many confessions.”
“Don’t cry, baby. We’ll share and make things okay… together. I’ll be right beside you; I promise. You and me from now on, baby. You and me.”
Chapter Thirty-three
Luke tailed Zed’s taxi, staying many car lengths behind. He watched as they pulled into a mansion-like property on the outskirts of the city. The rural setting gave a sprawling background to a huge colonial-style house where only a rich person could afford to live.
He watched the taxi pull over in the driveway close to the wrought-iron gate. Sounds of Zed getting out of the car were plainly heard. Then he watched as he walked to the wall where he searched for the lighted buttons on the sheltered pad next to the fancy scrolled entrance and unoccupied small gatehouse.
Once Luke turned off his own headlights and parked across the wide street, he saw Zed hold the intercom button and then heard the words, “I need to see the boss.”
A harsh voice replied. “Are you crazy, dude? What the fuck you doing here? You go through me when you want a meet.”
“Yeah, well, if you’d answer your phone I would have. But I tried for the last two days, and you’re ghosting me. I need a big shipment. I’m talking a huge order. Lots of money.”
“Okay, okay. Stay where you are. I’ll come to you.”
Luke hadn’t heard every word, but the gist was clear. He had to get closer to be able to see the man. First, he reached up and turned off the inside lights. Then he slid over and left the truck from the opposite side of where the others were. Once he stepped onto the grass, he ran along the cars parked in front of him until he was a few houses ahead and then he slipped to the other side of the street.
The bushes along there gave him cover, and he traveled slow, careful to stay hidden. Closer now, he peered around a large tree and watched a side gate open.
He held his phone up and started taking photos, his finger working continuously.
A large man approached Zed; his bodyguard appearance expected. “Zed, you loser, I should just shoot you here and now. You been followed? Who’s that in the car?”
“Followed? Hell no. We was careful. The taxi driver don’t even speak English. He don’t know nothing.” Whiny, his voice beseeching, Zed’s form seemed to shrink as Luke watched.
“Still. You forget this place, you hear me?”
“Yeah. Yeah… I’m sorry. I needed to contact you. I have an order for a party, hundreds of people. It’s a huge deal, man. My biggest yet. You know Wendi, one of my customers, she’s onto something big. Planning a party for a lot of rich folks.”
“Wendi? The bitch used to run with Jay Nelson?”
“Yeah. Her. She’s planning a bash for a bigwig movie star. Needs lots of pills, cocaine, ecstasy, heroin… the good stuff. You hear me? No bad shit.”
“Yeah. I got it. But you still don’t come ‘ere. Look, we got a shipment from Mexico arriving tomorrow. Meet me at the warehouse when you get word. We’ll figure it out then. Now fuck off.”
Zed almost bowed his way back to the taxi. The chump had presented Luke with a hell of a lot more than he’d expected. Giving the car enough time to turn the corner, Luke carefully made his way back to his truck and again followed behind.
As he drove, he passed on the information he’d gathered to his liaison at headquarters. They knew enough not to move on any of it until he gave the word. “Hey Dale, I just sent you some photos of a house I want you to look up. I need to know the owner, his background, any visitors… you know the drill. Also, check into the identity of the fat man at the gate and get on any security cameras in the neighborhood to watch when he leaves the place. He mentioned a warehouse they were going to meet at. I’ll be tailing Zed, the guy I followed here. Put a trace on me now for the location. I’ll get back to you once I have more.”
Luke followed the taxi back to town and saw him drop Zed near the river where he’d picked him up. Would the idiot go directly to the so-called warehouse now or follow the instructions to wait? That part of the conversation had been hard to hear.
After the sneers Zed recently swallowed from the goon at the gate, he’d likely choose another ride. Taxi drivers could be discreet but better to play it safe.
Luke waited, hunched over the wheel, watching for Zed’s next move. The dude settled himself on a riverside bench next to the road and pulled his trusty bottle from his pocket. While he sipped, his phone rang only once. A short call that ended quickly. All Luke heard was Zed giving his whereabouts as if he expected to be picked up. Time passed, and he still sat.
Another hour elapsed. Zed took his last sip and never saw the shooter drive by. Bullets from an automatic rifle sticking out through the driver’s open window mowed him down. The sound of squealing tires, bullets thudding into the body, and screams from the early morning partiers were the only sounds.
