Piece Keeper (13 page)

“This is Black.”

“You need help finding the Blade?”

“Yes.”

“Secure number.”

“773-809-2172.”

The line went dead. He walked back through the house
and out to his truck in the garage. He got in and opened the glove
compartment where he grabbed the throw away cell phone and powered
it on. As soon as he turned the phone on it began to ring. He
pressed the TALK button.

“Long time no hear,” the voice said through the
phone.”

“How are you, Seshat?” Black asked the sweet
sounding voice through the phone.

“Some days are better than others and you?”

“I have a situation.”

“That doesn’t tell me how you’re doing.”

“Sorry. I am going through some things. I’ll
manage.”

“You always do. You know you still owe me some
time.”

Black smiled. He had known Seshat for two years now.
He’d met her through someone he had falsely convicted. It was a
horrible nasty mess. He owed the guy a favor so he helped Seshat
out of a nasty situation of her own. They’d met only once but the
respect and loyalty was undeniable. It was mostly business but a
friendly flirtation was always present. They did favors for one
another from time to time. She was a cyber-pirate, according to
their mutual friend who was still locked up, and one of the best in
the world. He had no idea where she was from or her real name. The
only thing he knew about her was that she went by the name Seshat,
which he looked up and discovered that it was a code name that
meant Egyptian goddess of writing and measurement. He put her at
around 19 to 23 years old. She spoke with an accent which made her
sound Brazilian, yet he couldn’t be sure. It could have just as
well been fake. The time she was referring to was personal. He was
tempted to take her up on her offer but had always declined out of
respect for Morena.

“You know I can’t do that, girl.”

“You haven’t left her yet?”

“Seshat.”

“Your loss. Barbados is beautiful this time of year.
What’s the Blade you’re looking for?”

“I need a connection between James Collins.” Black
paused to look through his notes in his other phone so he could
read them to Seshat. “D.O.B. 9/21/80 and Jason Wallace Witherspoon
D.O.B. 1/09/1960.”

“Witherspoon? You’re still in Donville? Thought that
case was closed.”

“It’s Danville and I see you’ve been watching the
news.”

“Glanced at it. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Anyway, give me 15 minutes and I’ll call you back
on this number with the information.” The call ended.

Black sat in the truck and waited. Something was
about to happen. He could feel it. It was right in front of him and
he wouldn’t be able to stop it. The phone rang again he answered on
the first ring. “Piece Keeper.”

“No direct connection. Online cash transfers and not
between one another. Once a month Witherspoon receives a deposit to
an offshore account and 24 hours later Collins receives a
deposit.”

“Does it say where the money is coming from?”

“Could find out. Need more time to knock down these
firewalls. You sounded urgent so I brought you this.”

“You’re right. Thanks.”

“You want me to freeze their accounts and move the
cash?”

“Not yet. I’ll get back to you. How much is there
and how long have the transactions been taking place?”

“Looks like $25,000 a month for Witherspoon and a
little over ten a month for Collins. It fluctuates.”

“Thanks. Usual pay?”

“Half of all I move. Yes, sir. Just give me the
word.”

“Get that firewall down. I need to find out who’s
paying these guys. I’ll let you know how we’ll proceed from there.”
The call ended.

***

Later that night Black lay in bed alone; still no
Morena. He lay in silence wondering how all of this would end. It
was funny. He came to Danville for justice and had yet to see the
inside of a courtroom. What does it all mean, he thought to
himself. His phone vibrated on the nightstand next to the bed. He
thought that it may be Morena calling but was surprised to see
Teresa’s face flash across the screen. He pressed the talk
button.

“What’s up?” he spoke into the phone

“Black?”

“Yes.”

“Can we talk?” she asked in a subtle tone.

He sat up in bed now at full attention. “What’s up?
Everything alright?”

“Yeah. I know you heard about what happened earlier
today didn’t you?”

“No. What’s wrong?”

“I was sent home today. James flipped out and broke
Hunter’s wrist.”

“Good for him.”

“Yeah, I suppose. Witherspoon suspended James and
sent me home saying I was causing a disturbance.”

“What did Hunter say to you? He threaten you?”

“No, but something is strange here.”

“Strange? At your place?”

“Yeah. I think someone’s been in here.”

“I’m on my way.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You’re not! You’re frightened. You shouldn’t be
alone.”

“Trust me, Black. I’m fine. Just wanted to let you
know what I thought.”

“Why do you think someone’s been in there?”

“Might be a small thing, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s silly.”

“Spit it out. It may be important.”

“Some things are missing from my place.”

“You were robbed?”

“Not really.”

“What are you saying? Girl, stop beating around the
bush.”

“My robe is missing and I can’t find the locket my
mother left me.”

“You look around the place?”

“Everywhere. I just don’t know what to think.”

“I don’t know… you sure you don’t want me to come
over?”

“I’m sure. Didn’t mean to bother you. Have a good
night.”

“I will.” She ended the call.

Black sat there thinking. The more he thought about
it the angrier he became. All he did was think and react, think and
react. Always a step behind. He got out of bed and got dressed in
his all black hoody and sweat pants. He grabbed a pair of dark
sunglasses from the dresser and was out of the door.

***

The night air felt good against his skin. The
vibration underneath him was pulsating through his body and was
sending sensations through him that got his adrenaline pumping. He
gripped the throttle and hugged the curves on the custom made
Augusta crotch rocket. Black was thankful that the people he was
renting the home from had left the keys in the ignition. He stopped
at the end of the block and watched. The neighborhood was quiet. He
expected as much. He sat and watched as he waited down the street
from Hunter’s house. He was tired of reacting. It was time for some
action. He hit the throttle and the sports bike took off. He rode
past Hunter’s house and went around through the alley to the back
of his house. Leaving the bike parked by the garage, he cautiously
made his way to Hunter’s back door. He hadn’t done this since he
was eleven years old. When he was a kid he did a few jobs for a
crew in his neighborhood but soon got out of the game. He realized
breaking into homes wasn’t his thing. He always felt strange
rummaging through people’s stuff. But standing there now at
Hunter’s door picking the lock, it felt like second nature to
him.

Stepping into the kitchen, he gently closed the door
and stood with his back to the wall for a few seconds. It was
darker in the home than it was outside. He let his eyes adjust to
the darkness. Finally being able to see, he let his eyes roam the
room, more specifically the kitchen floor. He was looking for a
dog’s bowl or dog toys. Anything to signify that Hunter had a pet.
True, he hadn’t alerted the animal of his presence but that didn’t
mean it would stay that way and a dog was a serious problem when
breaking into a home. If it’s a big dog, like a German Sheppard or
a Rottweiler, it would attack. If it was a small dog, like a pug or
Chihuahua, it would make noise and wake the occupants of the house
if anyone happened to be home. He knew how to deal with both
threats but was hoping he wouldn’t have to. After assessing that
there were no dogs he crept along the kitchen, moving from room to
room swiftly. Soon he found himself on the second floor standing
outside what he presumed to be Hunter’s bedroom.

He gently twisted the doorknob and entered the room
where Hunter was lying in bed asleep. Black stood over the man’s
bed and stared down at him as he slept. The room was eerily quiet.
Black felt the palms of his hands itch underneath the leather
gloves he was wearing. He whispered. “Hunterrr.”

Hunter jumped up from his sleep. “What the
hell?”

Black remained silent staring at Hunter through the
sunglasses.

“I know you,” Hunter stated. “You’re that
lawyer.”

Black still had yet to speak.

Hunter looked over at his gun sitting on his dresser
across the room. He wanted to go for it but he knew he’d never make
it. “What are you doing in here?”

“I’m picking a side.”

With that Hunter sprang to action leaping from bed.
Black caught him mid-air and threw him across the room. He crashed
into the mirror that was connected to the dresser. Black took his
time getting to him, allowing him time to get to his feet. Hunter
hunched low into a wrestler’s stance as Black stood back with his
dukes up ready for the attack. They both edged closer to one
another, both watching the other’s moves. Hunter was the first to
attack again, lunging out at Black. Black side stepped the attack
pushing Hunter off balance with his left hand. Black came down
across Hunter’s jaw with a right cross punch. Hunter staggered but
didn’t fall. He grabbed a hold of Black’s left arm and pulled him
close throwing Black into a full nelson.

Black instinctively threw both arms in the air and
dropped to his knees trying to slip out of the move. But it didn’t
work. Hunter was an all-state wrestler in college. He expected the
move. He dropped to the floor with Black, laying his weight on
Black’s back and tightening his arms around the man, forcing
Black’s head to hit the floor. The more Black struggled the tighter
the hold became. Hunter fell back bringing Black with him. Hunter
wrapped his legs around Black’s midsection and squeezed. Black felt
his oxygen being cut off.

It took everything Black had in him to throw his
head back as hard as he could in order to smash the back of his
skull against Hunter’s face. He heard the man’s nose crunch. Hunter
squealed as blood squirted from his face. Hunter loosened his grip
but still held on. Before Hunter could re-group Black threw another
head butt, this time busting Hunter’s lip. It was enough for Hunter
to let go completely. Black rolled away from Hunter and tried to
get to his feet. He wasn’t fast enough. Hunter rushed him, knocking
him off balance. The two men rolled on the floor. Hunter grasped
Black’s throat and began to squeeze. Black’s eyes bulged from his
face as he tried to break Hunter’s grip. This time it wasn’t as
easy to get away. Black couldn’t breathe. He felt light headed as
he began to see stars sparkling before his eyes. He made one last
attempt before he passed out, throwing both legs in the air and
wrapping them around Hunter. He squeezed and rolled. Hunter fell to
the side but held on. As he felt his ribs being compressed Hunter
squeezed tighter. Fighting for his life Black kept squeezing, using
both hands he grabbed a hold of Hunter’s hand with the broken
fingers and squeezed them until the man finally let go.

With one hand still wrapped around his throat, Black
loosened his grip on Hunter and clutched at the hand with the
broken fingers. He pulled them close to his face then Black yanked
away from Hunter’s grip and chomped down on one of the man’s broken
fingers. He bit down and pulled until the finger separated from the
hand. Hunter squealed louder than Black had ever heard anyone
squeal before. Hunter was squirming on the floor in awe as he
stared at his amputated finger. The fight in him was slowly
fading.

Still lying on his side, Black kicked Hunter in the
stomach before sliding across the room. With blood on his face and
the finger still in his mouth, Black stood to his feet and spit the
finger on the floor. Black walked over to Hunter, placed a foot on
his throat, and began to grind as if he were trying to put out a
cigarette butt. He did this until Hunter stopped squirming. Black’s
adrenaline was rushing so much that he didn’t hear Hunter’s neck
snap.

***

Black had spent enough time at crime scenes to know
that the longer he stayed the more chances he had of leaving
evidence behind. He had worn gloves so he wasn’t worried about
fingerprints. The only incriminating evidence was the finger he had
bitten off. He picked the finger up and placed it in his hoody
pocket. He looked around the room for his glasses that had fallen
off during the rumble and found the broken frames on the floor. He
picked up all the pieces and placed them in his pocket as well. All
that was left was possible saliva samples from when he spit out the
finger. He moved quickly as he went through the home looking for
cleaning products. He quickly returned with hydrogen peroxide, a
scrub brush, and a bowl of ice water. He scrubbed every inch of the
room with the ice cold water and peroxide. One last piece of
evidence and he was almost 90% sure he would be clear; Hunter’s
hand. His DNA was all over it. He swabbed his entire hand with the
peroxide then looked around the room once more before leaving the
way he’d come in.

Black rode the bike at a moderate speed and went
straight home. Once there he parked the bike, went inside, and
stripped himself of his clothes even the underwear and socks.
Walking through the house naked he placed all of the clothes into a
trash bag, including the shoes, then went back out to the deck,
opened the grill, and placed the bag onto the rack where it doused
it with lighter fluid before lighting a match and tossing it in. He
watched the bag instantly become engulfed in flames. He poured
lighter fluid on the flames every time they appeared to be dying
out. Once the bottle of lighter fluid was empty he tossed it into
the flame as well and let it continue to burn as he went into the
house. He took a shower where he scrubbed his flesh thoroughly.
After twenty minutes of scrubbing he was out and dressed. He went
back outside to the deck. The flame was dying down. It was mostly a
pile of weird smelling ash. He closed the lid and figured that he
would vacuum the ash out in the morning then dump it along the
highway. Next he went into the house and returned with cleaning
supplies. He gave the bike a good washing, making sure to get every
nook, cranny, and crevice twice. Blood and DNA samples had a way of
creeping up on suspects. He had seen it time and time again. They
thought they had gotten away with it then BOOM, the victim’s DNA
would be all over the killer’s clothes or something incriminating
was left in the car. Black wondered to himself if he would be the
next.