Chapter 12
Dom didn’t think this was going to end well. People were going to die. People were going to be hurt. People, women, he cared about were out there somewhere. With men who had already hurt them. Men who were capable of doing far worse.
And Dom felt fucking helpless to stop them. To find Powell and Heather. They had nothing more to go on with these assholes than they’d had two years ago. Nothing. Other than what Heather had given them on that video.
They were out there. And chances were high they were already dead.
Dom saw Gunnar’s face over and over in his head. That man loved that woman. No denying that. The knowledge that a virtually defenseless woman like Powell Barratt was out there with known killers sickened Dom.
He’d listened to the recording on Heather’s phone a few times now. It told them one thing—the ones who had Powell and Heather were the ones involved in the OPJ drug trafficking ring.
That connected them to Kimball’s bullshit—and the choir hall shooting crew.
There was probably some serious overlap. Of course, there was—the type of crime ring they thought was operating in Finley Creek now wouldn’t tolerate sharing territory. Or profits.
It was the same people doing this. Maybe spidering out from a center crew, but…he’d bet there was just a handful of people controlling everything going on in this town.
Everything.
But finding that asshole was getting harder and harder to do.
Dom left. He had to get out there, actually doing something to find Heather and Powell.
When all else failed for him, he’d hit the streets. There was always someone willing to talk. For the right price.
He had a guy out there who had his ear to the ground for anything that could earn him a twenty or fifty.
It took Dom less than twenty minutes to track good old Tony down. He pulled up next to the man who was loitering against an old brick duplex on the corner of Boethe and Twenty-fourth. Dom rolled down the window. “Get in.”
That was all it took.
“Hey, bossman. Been a while. You doin’ good?
” Tony was a smaller man, maybe five-six or so.
One fifty on a good day, with a mouthful of fillings and cavities.
His clothes had seen better days, too. Tony was completely harmless—he wouldn’t hurt a flea.
He just didn’t have the greatest track record with choices, at times.
“Could be better. You?”
“Eh, not too bad. Bouncing back and forth between here and Garrity. Inherited my mom’s place, you know. Fixin’ it up when I can. When I am motivated.”
So probably never. That was Tony—always had big ideas, and little follow through. No matter how many times Dom had tried to help him find a different path. “So I heard. I’m sorry. I know she was a good lady.”
Who had been heartbroken by the loss of potential her only son had.
“That lady cop came to the funeral. Zoe-weee. Damn, is she a nice-looking lady. I appreciated it. Didn’t appreciate the a-hole trailing after her, though. Peckerhead gave me a ticket once.”
“That peckerhead is her husband now. She leads him around by the…nose all the damned time. She’s why I am here.
Or…partially. I’m hoping you can help me.
” Dom knew Tony had had a bit of a thing for Zoey Daviess, before she’d become Zoey Lake.
Zoey had known Tony’s mother when she’d been the sheriff of Garrity County and had kept an eye on the older woman when she could.
Tony had appreciated that—he’d told Dom that before.
“Whazzup, then?”
“Zoey has an aunt, Tony. She’s in trouble now.
She’s only three years older than Zoey is.
Looks just like her, too—except even hotter.
The lady has two little girls, three-year-old and the baby is just six months old.
Their mama was abducted six hours ago. Along with Zoey’s good friend, Powell Barratt. You know anything about that?’
Tony was quiet for a moment. “That the house lady that’s always advertising everywhere?”
“That’s her.” A very pretty lady whose face was on billboards all over the city. Powell Barratt was memorable. And his buddy Gunnar loved her very much. If they didn’t get that woman back, Gunnar would be utterly destroyed. Dom couldn’t stand the thought of that happening to his friend.
“Shit, man. I ain’t getting involved in that.” There was real fear in the man’s faded eyes now.
“Why not?”
“There are some bad ass people out there, man. Bad ass people. I ain’t getting involved in that. Rumors about that house lady been going around for weeks. Good money in snatching her, I heard. I ain’t touching that.”
“Where would someone want to go…if they did want to get involved with that?”
“Hell, it’s all the rich boys’ games in this town. Heard there was lots of good green there in Hughes Heights. People will pay you to do anythin’ out of that place. Heard it called Satan’s den before, man. It’s bad there.”
Well, that just circled him right back to where he’d begun. “They were taken from Hughes Heights, Tony. I need all you can give me so we can get those women back to their families. Get those little girls’ mommy back to them where she belongs.”
He pulled out his phone. He had recent photos of both women right there. “Here they are. The one on the left—just found out she is pregnant. It’s her first. My buddy is the father. He’s terrified right now. He’s a widower. First wife—died in a car accident. She was pregnant, too.”
Tony had a soft side. Especially when kids were concerned.
It was one of the guy’s few redeeming qualities.
That, and he’d really loved his mother. Who hadn’t had many friends later in life—but Heather’s niece Zoey had been one of the few she’d had.
Dom just hoped that meant something. “What would your mother want you to do, Tony? What would she want you to do? Help me help Zoey’s aunt, or not? ”
“Man, all I can say is…there is a lot of shit going on in Hughes Heights, and there always is.”
“There’s security in Hughes Heights.” And Dom had his theories about that.
“So? Everyone can be bought, Acardi. Everyone.”
And that was exactly what Dom was counting on.
They talked a few more minutes. Then…Tony looked at him.
“Can I see the photos again? Them are some really pretty ladies.”
“They are. Good women, too. They help people.” Dom pulled up a photo—this one had been given to him by Heather’s twin personally. Heather was there, holding her newborn in one arm and her preschooler in the other. She was beautiful. No denying that.
Tony stared at the photos for a moment. A long one. Dom just stayed quiet. He could see the cogs working. Tony was debating with himself right now. The little rat knew more than what he was letting out there. Tony always did. “Look, man. I consider you…a friend, right? We’re friends.”
Dom just nodded. He wouldn’t say friends was the right word.
“Look, man. I hear things. There is shit going on in this town. And a man doesn’t know who he can trust. I just know…
there are guys out there. Old dudes. Older than you, that’s for sure.
Old. Been around this town for a long, long time.
Sitting up in Hughes Heights all cozy for decades, man.
Decades. May even some cops, even. I ain’t sayin’ I know any names, but… ”
Old cops living in Hughes Heights. Well, Dom seriously doubted that there were many Hughes Heights residents that made that particular list. At least it was a place to start.
“What about them? Tell me about these old guys who have been in Finley Creek for a long time.” There were indications that there was a crime ring going on right beneath their noses. Jarrod and Heather had been working that angle before what had happened with Kimball.
Interesting coincidence, that. That Heather would be missing now.
It was always Heather now. And she’d only been with the TSP in Finley Creek a handful of weeks.
He’d listened to the recording—in his opinion, she and Powell Barratt had just wandered into the assholes moving OPJ.
He didn’t think it was more complicated than that.
But that it was the very detective digging into the past in this place who had wandered right into that open drug ring—well, Dom didn’t fully believe in coincidences like that. Life just didn’t work that way.
“Look, there are people moving OPJ right now as we speak. They have those two women. Where, if you were theorizing, would they take two women who stumbled into what they were doing?”
“Besides just drowning them in the reservoir or dumping their hot asses down a mineshaft in Value, man? That’s probably where they are keeping the good shit.
But me—I’d get rid of them ladies as fast as I could.
If I was that type. Guys like this…guys who have been around here for a long time…
these assholes don’t mess around. Don’t want nobody talkin’.
Seen that before. People can disappear around this town.
Ever been in those mines, man? You should go in those mines, man. Someday.”
The mines. There were old copper mines beneath Value, near the Value Reservoir. Some were big enough and easily accessible enough to drive a car into. Or…a box truck. Hell, it was a possibility. Either way, Tony seemed sure there was something interesting in those mines lately.
Dom was going to make a note of that. Do a bit of exploring when he had a vacation, maybe. One thing he’d learned years ago—Tony didn’t say things without there being real meaning behind his words.
“How do they make things work?”
“Anything can be bought for a price, Acardi. And there are people here in the city who can make that shit happen. If you can pay the fee. They are really good at making problems just disappear.” And right there…
the man knew more than he was saying about just who it was making those problems disappear.
No matter how much Dom pushed, Tony wouldn’t budge. Wouldn’t say another word.
The man was scared.
Dom passed him a couple of fifties he always carried for confidential informants. Dom dropped him off near the Boethe Street city bus stop. The bus ran between Wichita Falls and several points in the city. Stopped off near Value and Garrity, too.
Tony was resourceful. He could take care of himself.
The only thing Tony had really given him was a hint that security at Hughes Heights wasn’t all that it seemed.
No, shit. Like Dom couldn’t have figured that out himself.