Betrayed Devil Page 3

  “Here is the location of the buildings where the boat exploded. There’s a row of five old Savannah brick constructed warehouses on that street.” He pointed to Chuck’s warehouse on the map. “This is the building we’re interested in. That’s where the boat you numbskulls chased crashed. Here is a two-lane street in front of these buildings and the road comes off President Street, goes down toward the river for about four hundred meters, then turns and after about a hundred meters it runs before the buildings, it then swings back up onto the main street. The backs of those buildings are on the Savannah River.”

  “Should be easy to go in there and see if the drugs are there,” one man said.

  “Should be, but the guy who lives there is no pushover. He was a combat soldier for a clandestine anti-terrorist operation group at the national level from what my source tells me. He has weapons and knows how to use them.”

  “So do we,” boasted the same man.

  “Listen up. Logically, I believe the drugs are there. The man might not know about them. The police found none when they searched the area after the boat impacted the dock in his building. The cops don’t have them. We don’t have them. Someone has them, and I think the man who lives there does. The five of you will go over there tonight at eleven to pay a visit. I want you and you,” he pointed at the men he meant, “to drive your cars to block off the ends of the road and the three of you will have a visit with this McGregor man. Bring your weapons and be back here at ten thirty. You will go to his place in convoy.”

  Tsarina, Tasha Alexandrovitch, sat at a small round glass table on the balcony overlooking the Atlantic Ocean on the side of the building facing East. She had ordered a takeout Chinese lunch delivered to her high-rise condo on South Beach. The food lay unopened on the table because of the news she had received by phone from the Bahamas. Her initial instinct was to throw something. She exerted great personal control to remain cool in the presence of her friend, Gertrude Schultz, called Gerti by her friends, who she had invited to lunch with her.

  “I can see the news you heard has upset you. I can leave if you have to handle something. We agreed that business comes first,” Gerti said.

  Gerti stood, and Tasha saw her as if for the first time. Her friend possessed close-cropped jet-black hair, which accentuated her light olive-toned skin. The first thing Tasha had noticed about her friend was the piercing blue, sky-blue eyes, plus it didn’t hurt to have a beautifully sculpted body. Her father had paid to get her into Yale to obtain a physics degree and later a masters in art and antiquities. She ran his vast conglomerates of both legal and many illegal businesses.

  Tasha promptly got up and moved to where Gerti stood. She hugged her. “I know we agreed to do that. Please stay and let’s finish our lunch. I’ll handle this matter later today. We seldom see each other these days. I enjoy your company more than you know.” She escorted Gerti back to the table and served the food.

  “We have a bond, you know,” She stood about five feet five as she got Gerti reseated, with a heart-shaped face surrounded by curly black hair. She wore tight-fitting jeans and a white blouse, more than adequately displaying her figure.

  Tasha looked at her friend. She had known her for months now, but it felt like years. They had both suffered the deaths of dear ones at the hands of an FBI agent named Matt Higgins months before. In the aftermath of the bloodbath, they had sworn to guarantee the man paid with his life for the harm he had done by killing Gerti’s father and husband in addition to Tasha’s father.

  “Remember, if you have a problem in your organizations, you have to act, don’t wait. It will only get worse with time. I know from bad experiences,” Gerti said.

  “I lost the trafficking business I had in Savannah when the police somehow were able to take the whole thing out at one time,’ Tasha said. “Now, I learned my attempt to build a drug business in that city failed because of my shipment becoming lost. I ordered my man in the Bahamas to retrieve the drugs or else. I also ordered him to take out anybody who is trying to establish a rival organization there.”

  “Sounds like you are taking action. The only advice I would offer is to monitor it closely,” Gerti said.

  “I gave him specific instructions to retrieve my drugs. The cops don’t have them, or the news would report on it. I have been blind in that area after we had to dispose of certain loose ends, a policeman and his wife, in Savannah. I am hoping to get a new informant, so far no luck.”

  “When are your people going to try getting your drugs back?” Gerti asked.

  “Tonight. They are going to raid the house where the boat crashed and find the drugs.”

  7

  Chuck arrived at the yacht sales office. Darlene greeted him with a welcoming smile. She led him to the finance section of the company to complete the paperwork on his purchase of the Chris-Craft. Chuck handed the man a check covering the purchase price. With the transaction completed, he and Darlene walked outside and proceeded along the dock.

  “Well, you are the proud owner of a beautiful classical boat,” she said.

  “And the parrot that goes with it. My new buddy, Merlin.” He laughed at himself with this comment.

  “You know the bird is a scarlet macaw. He’ll take getting used to as you must do things every day to make sure he is well cared for,” Darlene said as she took his hand and led him to a docked forty-foot Absolute Fly motor yacht.

  “This is my favorite one we have in the yard now,” she said.

  Chuck stared at the vessel and couldn’t believe he fell in love with a boat he had never seen, on first sight. This was similar to the experience he had when he first saw the Chris-Craft in this boatyard. On seeing this magnificent vessel, an overwhelming desire to own it came into his mind.

  “Tell me about it,” he said.

  “She has two Volvo engines producing 600 horsepower. There are two heads, six berths, full kitchen and this is the first model in its class to have a fly bridge. Want to see more?”

  “Yes,” he said as they climbed on board. He examined everything on the boat. The master cabin was a thing of beauty, and there was light coming in from the massive windows. The heads both had showers, and the galley would support any chef’s demands.

  “You like,” she asked.

  “Don’t try to sell me another boat.” He kept examining the interior of the vessel as he said this.

  “I won’t, but I think you already want this one.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  “She’s in having a complete overhaul. The overhaul is almost complete, but the owner has decided he no longer wants the boat.”

  “So is he willing to sell at a reasonable price?”

  “The boat is three years old. It’s in as good a shape as the day they launched it. But you have a propensity for picking boats with problems that have nothing to do with the boat,” she said.

  He was about to ask her what she meant when a black flash ran by his legs and jumped on the bed in the master cabin.

  “What was that? The black streak, it flashed by?”

  “That's the catch I mentioned. That's Murphy, and the boat has a dog, a Schipperke. This is his home. He's always lived on this boat. The owner got him two years ago as a puppy.”

  “What the hell is a Schipperke?”

  “They are boat dogs bred from foxes and dogs in Belgium around the twelfth century. They come in any color you want as long as it’s your basic black, sort of resembling what Henry Ford said about his Model T cars. They are usually about eighteen inches and weigh about fifteen to twenty pounds. They are fast, and the canal bargemen in Belgium used them to keep rodents away. You saw how fast he is and they can catch varmints on board like a cat. People prize them because they can do what a cat can do, but they can do something a cat can’t.”

  “What?”

  “They can bark, and they are great watchdogs.”

  “You know a lot about them. Why?”

  “I’ve been taking care of Murphy while the boa
t is in for service. He sometimes comes to the office, but he stays on the boat most of the time. I did a little research on the breed over the last weeks. He’s a great dog.”

  “Oh, so now I smell a rat. If I love the boat enough to buy it, I had better like the dog?”

  She smiled and then nodded.

  “You catch on quick.”

  The dog came back to where they stood and sat. He looked at Chuck with curious eyes and stuck out his pinkish tongue to lick his chops. Then he rose to the position most called “praying.” This breed often sat on its haunches while it rose and put its paws together and moved them up and down in a praying gesture.

  Chuck reached to pet the animal. The fur coat felt soft and smooth. The dog collapsed and rolled over on its back, seeking a belly rub. Chuck complied and felt an immediate attraction to the animal.

  “I hate to ask, but what does this thing cost? I told you I have had a wish to own a boat capable of going out in the ocean and being able to take a long trip, perhaps to the Bahamas or even Bermuda. This one has both capabilities doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, it sure does and more. This baby can go across oceans. It can carry that much fuel, water and supplies along with Murphy,” she said with an ear-to-ear grin.

  She handed him a specification sheet from the galley table, and he saw the price. The cost was more than he expected, but not by much. His investments were doing great at the present, and they made enough to cover the cost of the vessel in dividends in months.

  “If he is such a great watchdog, why didn’t he bark when we came on board?”

  “Because he knows me. I’ve been on the boat every day it has been here, and I play with him sometimes. He sensed who was coming onboard. He might have been asleep up on the fly bridge. I still can’t figure out how he gets up and down.”

  “Can we take it for a short run?”

  “Lucky you. We can. Let me get a few things from the office, and we’ll go. I bet you’ll be delighted with how she handles.”

  Murphy came over to where Chuck sat in the main cabin. He jumped onto the bench seat and moved like an infantryman, low crawling forward until he reached Chuck. The dog placed his head on Chuck’s leg. He couldn’t wag his tail as he had none, but Chuck noticed his rear end moved as if he was wagging his tail.

  Darlene returned, and they left for a half hour cruise on the Savannah River. When they tied off the lines afterward, Chuck asked, “How long till the overhaul is finished?”

  “About another week or so. We’re waiting on a few parts. But if you are going to buy it, I suggest you take Murphy home with you to get comfortable with him being around.”

  “Tomorrow, not today as I have a parrot to get settled today and I must get a couple of dog things before he comes. I need a day to think about it. I’ll be back tomorrow at ten to see you. Okay?”

  “Not tonight?” She pouted.

  “Sorry, can’t. But right now I can.” He led her to the master cabin, gave her a passionate kiss, and began to undress her. She pulled his shirt off and unbuckled his pants as his hands explored her breasts, kissing them as he finished taking off the rest of her clothes.

  When finished, they rested on the berth. Murphy jumped up and moved between them and snuggled there.

  “I hope nobody observed this boat rocking,” he gave a slight chuckle before he kissed her.

  “I hope they didn’t see it was bobbing up and down,” she laughed and rested her head on his chest.

  “I want to ask a favor. Could you find a place for me to moor this vessel if I take it? You’ve seen my place, and there’s no way to fit this in my boat dock.”

  “I can look into it. The manager here has connections with docks with the capacity to moor a boat of this size for long periods. Tomorrow, I’ll ask him. Mr. Murphy is still on vacation in Italy. He’s the owner,” she said while getting out of the bunk and fastening her bra before putting on the rest of her clothes.

  They arrived back at the office a few minutes later and Chuck finished signing the final papers and the request for Georgia registration of the Chris-Craft in his name. He took the parrot and placed him in the cage he’d purchased. Outside he gave Darlene a kiss and headed home. He secured the parrot in the cage and placed it in the rear seat of the car.

  He thought about the Chris-Craft and then the Absolute 40 Fly. What the hell? He could now have a little fun after the unexpected divorce a few years before followed by the years in combat. He figured he deserved it. More importantly in his mind, he had the money to do it.

  His thoughts returned to the drugs resting in his place. He needed to get them to Eddie as planned. He realized he had acted stupidly in not turning them over before, but the thought that it might help Eddie made him overlook his previous action. He decided to leave them in his home until he turned them over to Eddie. An idea entered his head to check out with his Cuban friend about any drug distributors who were setting up operations in Savannah. He would, and it would be an excellent opportunity to see him and check on his recovery from the gunshot wound he suffered when they attacked the human trafficking organization. If he found out anything about drugs in the area, he could inform Eddie when he came to get the package. Sounded like a plan to him.

  He turned and headed for the car rental office of Roberto Mendez.

  8

  Chuck arrived at Roberto’s place of business on the south side of the city. He believed his friend might shed light on any drug trafficking if any was presently being conducted in Savannah. Years before, they had played on the same football team in high school. Recently, Roberto proved instrumental in helping him destroy the human trafficking organization. A dose of bad luck happened during the exchange of gunfire—as he’d led the assault up a stairway at the gang’s headquarters, Roberto had received a bullet wound.

  When he entered the car rental office, he saw his old friend standing behind the counter. Roberto carried a little extra weight, possessed a mop of black hair courtesy of his Cuban ancestry, and a winning smile that displayed his perfect set of white teeth. He came around the counter to greet Chuck with a bear hug.

  “Chuck, my friend, to what do I owe this visit?”

  “Roberto it’s always good to see you. How is the wound? Has it healed up okay?”

  “Yes, I'm as good as new. So what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

  Chuck told him of the experience he had with the boat crashing into his warehouse, and then the subsequent discovery of the big package of what he suspected was heroin.

  “I saw something about that in the papers, but it didn’t mention you. I never suspected it was your place. You are a magnet for trouble, my friend.”

  “Unfortunately, it was my place. The reason I’m here is to see if you know any information about drug trafficking going on downtown. I don't mean the normal little distributors who are giving out small quantities because they have to buy them from out of town or work for other distributors not located here in Savannah. I want to learn if you think there’s a drug organization being formed here.”

  “First, I need to warn you, my friend, you are in a dangerous position from what I can understand. It will take whoever is trying to smuggle those drugs a short period to figure out you have their goodies. There has been no report in the newspaper about any drugs nor have the police claimed they have any in their possession. I can only conclude you have become the only person who could be in possession of the drugs.” Roberto looked at him with grave concern.

  “I have been thinking along the same line. I’ve come to ask you for help with a little protection from your guys if that could be possible? I may need it before I implement my plan to get rid of this package. I wanted to be careful with the police on the day of the boat wreck, so I kept it hidden because I didn’t want them to think it’s mine.”

  “My suggestion to you is to leave town for a few days, bury the package somewhere, and call the police anonymously to have them go and retrieve it. That way they will announce they have it a
nd you are off the hook,” Roberto said.

  “I cannot do that. I'm not gonna run away. Can you help me?”

  “You know I would anytime, but you have caught me at a horrible time. My brother called me an hour ago telling me our mother has died suddenly from a heart attack. It happened this morning. I've got to get myself to Miami as fast as I can. I was leaving when you walked in.”

  “I'm so sorry. Please accept my condolences.”

  “Thank you, my friend. If you wait for a few days until I get back, I can help you work something out so there will be no problem with the cops. I have a few Cuban friends on the force.”

  “You go look after the arrangements for your mother. I'll handle this problem here while you're gone.”

  They walked together out to Chuck’s Honda Pilot that Roberto had sold to him.

  “What’s with the bird?” Roberto asked.

  “You don’t want to know,” Chuck said as he slapped Roberto on the shoulder. Then he gave him an abbreviated story about the parrot before departing and again expressed his condolences.

  Lieutenant Eddie Gordon received a phone call from Ramon during the time Chuck spoke with Roberto.

  “I may have learned where the drugs are. They’re with that man McGregor. It’s the only possible conclusion. You don’t have them, and there have been no new drugs available anywhere in Savannah. So, we’re going to pay him a visit tonight. It might be his last night to interfere in anything. Stay away from his location,” Ramon ended the call without giving Eddie a chance to speak.

  Eddie sat back in his new office, on his first day as a lieutenant, and let his mind wander over the quandary in which he found himself mired. Chuck would always be his old partner and a close friend. Ramon, on the other hand, might provide his ticket into early retirement in a South American country. The thought Ramon might carry out his threat to kill Chuck weighted heavily on his mind. He didn’t want a connection in any way with the murder of Chuck McGregor.