McKuen’s Revenge (7 page)

“Oh yeah, the account numbers. Somebody wants that piece of paper, you think this is connected with that?”

“You got it.” They were silent for a minute.

“So what about this call?” McKuen said. “The guy who picked up Amy was probably Latino. She said the accent was kinda faint, though.”

“Yeah, the caller might have been, too, I don’t know. Soon as I answered, my head was flying around, hard to remember.”

“What about the FBI?” Dennis snorted.

“You think they’re better than Zolo’s crew?”

“Probably not. I’ll call Coil.”

“She’s home sick.”

“Wah, give her something to do, you know her.”

Dennis thought about it. OK, let McKuen take the heat.

“Sounds good. Thanks, Steve.”

“
De nada
, buddy.”

Dennis went out to the bar and asked for a ginger ale. He sat and stared at the mirror, trying to think of any other angle. His phone rang—Zolo.

“
Jefe
, I am sorry. I make my phone vibrate by mistake.”

Growling, Dennis said he wanted an army out looking for Liv. He wanted Zolo to reach out and touch everybody he knew who might know something. Zolo cursed himself in Spanish for a minute.

“Hey man, it’s OK,” Dennis said. “Well, it’s not OK but you didn’t do anything wrong, you suggested it. I should’ve followed up, it’s my mistake, not yours.”

“But it is my fault. I even think about getting Jerky to do a, how you say, hidden watching on your house. He is good at sleeping in his car, he don’t mind.”

“Look, we gotta deal with this right now. We’re wasting time with shoulda woulda coulda. Just start calling, OK?”

“OK, is my stupid mistake, I find her.” Zolo hung up.

_____

McKuen looked up. Dennis walked into the office.

“Zolo’s got a bunch of people asking questions,” Dennis said.

“Still got a net around Amy, right?”

“Oh yeah. When I was talking to Zolo, I made sure.”

Dennis started to pace, hands clenched behind his back. His cowboy boots clunked on the wood floor.

“How ‘bout you take the pacing out to the barroom?” McKuen said.

“Oh, man.” Dennis stared at McKuen, face redder than usual, looking worn out and angry. He turned around. The clunking receded.

McKuen shut the door. He was sympathetic, but he did better work in solitude. Quiet solitude.

He punched Coil’s number and told her about the ransom call. It had to be connected to the person looking for the account numbers.

She wanted to know why he was calling her. He flattered her by calling her the Christian expert, as if that would work.

The conversation ended with Coil saying she would think about it, but it was pretty far down her priority list.

He straightened things on his desk, squaring angles, then grabbed a pen and folded back a fresh sheet.

He had to figure it out. Things were out of hand.

_____

Dennis groped for his phone in the dark. It was Zolo, reporting in after a long night.

“The only lead is at a trucking company down Bandini Boulevard.
Vato
sees a
gringa
, looks a little like Olivia. She’s with three Latino dudes, getting out of a van.” Dennis’s blood pressure spiked.

“You followed up, right?”

“
Sí
, but it turn up nothing.”

“Look, I gotta bring you more money, you can hire more men.”

“Do not worry, for me this is personal, Miss Olivia is my friend. One more thing. Coupla days ago, you want me to find out more about some H, where’s it going to, alla that.”

“Oh yeah. So?”

“So Montebello.”

“Montebello?” Dennis’s heart pounded faster. The room spun.

His memories of Montebello were from a night in a rented SUV with McKuen, a risky operation and a quick getaway. Only a few years before, it seemed like decades.

“
Sí
. Comes in on the beach and goes someplace in the Valley. Some processing place, I don’t know. Then the load is distributed all over, but the money trail is to Montebello.”

“Is this good intel? The source, you trust it?”

“As much as I trust anything.”

“Huh.” Dennis was puzzled. Montebello was The Five’s base. He didn’t know what happened after he and McKuen took care of them. He assumed their operation was ruined.

They hung up. He wondered whether Zolo’s mention of Montebello could be connected with Liv.

No, McKuen must be right about the necklace. Dennis went out to his truck before traffic got worse. Depleted but alert, he could sleep when he was dead. Now he had something he could trade with Coil.

9

Thursday the 12
th

Ty Jimenez, CeCe Dias’ security man, settled back with his phone.

“Took long enough, watched ‘em eleven days. That Reneaux dude drives around a lot. They even saw that little cop gal—”

“Jen,” CeCe said.

“Yeah, saw her pop that guy right after Reneaux drove away. Anyway, it had to be a day when he worked late the night before and the wife had the morning off. One time we almost had it perfect, but it was warm, too many people on the street. With the rain it worked great, gave him a flat tire.”

“OK, good.”

“The wife’s too relaxed, like she ain’t even worried. What’s up with that?”

“You could make her worry, but subtle, OK? I don’t want her roughed up. Taking her weakens McKuen. You see that, right?”

“Like that Chinese guy said.”

“Sun Tzu. OK, I’ll leave it up to you, just keep me informed. Another thing, you got somebody watching that IRS attorney?”

“Shapiro? Yeah, we’re on him, from a distance.”

“Stay on him. Got another call coming in.” She hung up.

Ty rested his chin on his knuckles. The only reason he reported to CeCe was because when their fathers died, he knew she could outflank him.

Her plan was too complicated. He wanted to walk into McKuen’s bar, guns blazing. He stood up. Sooner or later, he would avenge his father’s death and assume his rightful place.

_____

The abduction was sending a tremor through CeCe’s world, though. One of Liv’s guards told his girlfriend he had to stay overnight to watch a hostage
gringa
. The girlfriend told a cousin, who told an uncle, who told a friend, all because it was a curiosity: holding a white girl hostage at a warehouse in Bell.

The gossip blew out of proportion (an heiress was being held). It raced across state lines and reached a vice-president in Las Vegas.

“No way!” he shouted, and ordered it traced back to find out who was behind the ridiculous act of kidnapping.

“The holding company is CCD,” the lieutenant said.

“What do they think this is, Colombia?”

“Want us to go in?”

“No, let me think about it.”

He knew who ran CCD. After considering the rumor and its implications, he took it to the chief executive. The CEO made a call to verify that an inquiry by their attorney, Phil Adelman, matched the facts of the rumor. Close enough.

He called Chicago to verify that CCD’s owner was connected to land in Colorado on which there was a legal dispute. It checked out.

He hunched his shoulders and sneered. Kidnapping was for South America or Asia. Inviting the Feds onto the playing field was simply not done. Finally he made a phone call directing a low-level person on their side to reach out to one on the other side.

Ty’s phone rang.

“We maybe got a problem, boss,” one of his managers said.

“There’s always a solution.”

“Yeah well, here’s the problem. There’s a guy I talk to. He’s a legit guy, but a little connected, kind of old school.” Ty’s eyes opened wider.

“Go on.”

“So he’s asking about some white chick, supposed to be like, detained or something?”

Ty blanched. The mafia knew about Olivia Reneaux? Impossible! He kept a cool façade.

“Don’t know, what about it? You know, if something like that turned up.”

“Well, this guy says if it’s true, it would be a really bad idea. You know, Feds and everything.”

“Yeah it would, so why are you hearing about this?”

“They think we’ve got her.”

“Bullshit.”

“Mmm OK, but they’re pretty torqued.”

“Tell you what. I’ll run this upstairs and get back to you.”

“Sounds good, just passin’ it along.” Ty called CeCe.

“You need to terminate somebody,” she said.

“Yeah, but right now we got a problem.”

“Let me think about it. I’ve been hearing some stuff from the street. I want to get everything in front of me.”

CeCe worked through the angles. There was an elegant solution, as usual. She called Vincente, her foreman, and verified which land was in question. They worked out a deal for a certain slice of property.

Then she called her attorney. She said she could cut loose half of the forty acres the other party claimed and throw in releasing a valuable item to a third party. She told him to pitch it as a good faith compromise. Everybody would save a mountain of legal fees.

It would all work out. Keeping Liv Reneaux was never the plan, it was all about driving McKuen and Dennis Reneaux crazy.

She never planned to hang on to all of the land either, only the strip she needed for security. This offer would give her double the land she had intended to keep and save her a ton of cash.

She wondered why the outfit gave a damn. Reneaux couldn’t be connected, so McKuen was more valuable than she thought. Good.

Pleased, she texted Ty, told him a deal was in the works and he’d better trace the leak. Now.

A nasty smile marred her lovely features. It was a good day for inspiration. IRS attorney, Pete Shapiro, was next.

_____

Liv lay on a small mattress. Dennis was never secretive about his work or his sideline earnings, and she had accepted the danger. She didn’t think she was being held for ransom. This was probably meant to freak him out. No doubt it was working. Just stay calm.

Her clothes and hair were dry, and the room was warm. Her eyes wandered around the ceiling. A small seam didn’t join the next one like the others, maybe a concealed camera. OK, show no fear. The lights went out.

It seemed like hours passed. Still dark but she thought it might be morning. She banged on the door with a plastic water bottle. A sleepy-looking guard cracked the door an inch.

“I’m hungry!” she yelled. “You have to feed me!” She gave him a sullen eye.

He looked at her like, “Shut up, bitch,” and closed the door. She heard a lock click and the lights went on.

Using a coffee can for a toilet wasn’t that big a deal. She’d been through worse, camping. At least they left some toilet paper. Hunger made her mad, though. She was eating for two now. She folded her arms and pouted.

Later the door cracked open. A hand held out a wrapped item. She got up and grabbed it.

“More water,” she said. “
Agua
.” The door shut.

She devoured the burrito, probably from a food truck and nowhere near big enough, but anything beat nothing. She burped. Better.

Might as well sleep. She rolled over and closed her eyes.

The lights were off when she woke up. Time seemed elastic, her biorhythms fading. Until then she’d done pretty well holding back depression, but lying there, she felt a tear slide to her ear. She missed Dennis, and all the fun they had planning the nursery.

The dark was slowly winning. For the first time since the nightmare started, she was afraid she might die, their son might not be born.

She heard the door unlatch. The lights went on. A short Latino stepped in. She was bigger but he looked tough. He pulled out a small water bottle and handed it to her with another burrito.

“Maybe tomorrow,” he said in a whisper.

Before she could reply, he slipped out the door. She heard the latch. Glad for the food and water, she sat on the mattress and ate, then lay back, sipping. The lights went out.

Ty sat in front of a monitor. Screw the psych angle. Sometimes CeCe thought too much. Need to look for an opening. It’ll happen sooner or later, and when it does…

_____

Even after a shower and clean clothes, Dennis felt like hell. He got a mug of coffee, dragged himself into McKuen’s office and plopped on the sofa.

“Looks like I got something for Coil, wanted to run it by you.” McKuen swung around. Dennis took a sip.

“She asked me a few days ago if I heard anything about H, could I let her know,” he said. “You know, those beach smugglers?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Had Zolo ask around. One word came back, you’re never gonna guess.”

“Not even gonna try.”

“Montebello.” McKuen’s eyes went hard.

“Kinda wondered what might happen out there,” he said. “Too big to fold up and go away.”

“Yeah, thought you’d want to know before I give it to Coil.”

“Well thanks, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s a closed book.”

“I’m going to use it for leverage, see if I can get Coil moving.” McKuen’s phone rang.

“Oh, hi Phil, thanks for getting back. Any word?” He listened.

“Hey, that’s great! So what do you think, you know, time-wise?” More listening.

“I’ll pass it on. Look Phil, we owe you one…no, no, we do…OK, thanks a ton.” Dennis straightened. McKuen tapped off.

“There’s been a vague confirmation,” he said. “People are talking, big people. He hopes for good news sometime in the next day. He’ll let us know if he hears something. Maybe she’ll be cut loose before he hears.”

“Great.” Dennis twirled a coffee stirrer back and forth between fingers. He noticed McKuen staring at him.

“Oh. We can’t having them looking at us,” he said. McKuen nodded.

“I’m going to talk to Coil, too,” he said. Dennis nodded back.

“Guess I’ll call her.” McKuen picked up a pen. Dennis walked out and punched Coil’s number.

“Any news?” she said.

“Maybe something. I’m going crazy, waiting.”

“FBI’s a phone call away.”

“Let’s hold off and see if this works out. Anyway, you asked me about H. I heard something back. One word, Montebello.”

“Really, hmmm. OK that’s good, Dennis. You’re sure—”

“Yeah, that’s it. My guy would tell me if there was more.”

“All right, I appreciate it, plus one in your column.”

“Hope it’s useful, gotta go.”

“It is, thanks.”

Dennis called Zolo and they made plans to meet at Bart’s. He went back to McKuen’s office.

“Goin’ to Bart’s, check inventory and orders.”

“Take your mind off this.”

“Yeah, I’m just drifting.” Dennis stroked his beard then turned. “Thanks for everything, Steve, really.”

“No problem, you’d do the same.” Dennis nodded and left.

McKuen wanted to talk to Coil, alone. He called her and arranged to stop by. An hour later he knocked. She told him to come in and shut the door. He sat down.

“Feeling better?” he said. She gave him a dirty look.

“You called,” she said.

“I’m pretty torn here. When Dennis told me there might be an operation in Montebello—”

“Maybe there’s something going on but it might be bullshit.”

“Yeah, not like I know everything.”

He wasn’t going to talk about that night. Let her connect the dots herself. She appeared to read his mind.

“Look, you don’t have to go into detail, I get it,” she said.

“I just thought maybe Dennis and I can help you out here. I don’t know exactly how, but I’ll figure it out.”

“OK.”

She was playing it close to the vest. He was determined to steer it away from the Montebello angle. He stood up and leaned on the door.

“I think the thing with Amy and the thing with Liv are connected. Like I said, it’s got to be about the necklace, but when you add the murders…” He raised an eyebrow.

“For something out of the past to surface right now, it’s too much of a coincidence,” he said.

“It’s all pretty weird, I agree with you there. So what do you want?”

“Just wanted your ear, and I don’t want to take up more of your time.”

“OK, I heard you.”

“Call me if I can help.”

“Right.” Her look said he was dismissed. He opened the door, waved and departed.

He hoped she had caught his real meaning. By implying he was willing to take care of his new problems, he wanted to get her tacit agreement not to waste time on ancient history.

He didn’t know whether The Five or some other party from his past had come back to haunt him. The list was long. He just wanted room to operate without restraint.

He pushed the gas pedal a little harder. Whoever it was, he was going to find out, and deal with them.