You owe me, p.16
You Owe Me, page 16
We don’t have any relations here or back in Russia who can help, so we tried other ways to raise the money, crowdfunding all that sort of stuff, but all we got was just a few hundred dollars. So I made a decision a few months ago that I would get the money any way I could. I know I’m attractive, great body.
Men have always lusted after me, so I thought why not? Why not use the asset God gave me, even though he might not approve of how I use it.’
She took another sip of her coffee.
‘I go for jobs like the one in the Dock pub where I know I’ll meet wealthy guys. You were one of my victims, if you like. Don’t know if you can get the money I stole back from the bank but I hope you can. Anyway, one way or another, I’ve managed to raise $78,000 so far, but I’m still well short. I need to raise about $200,000 minimum. Clayton is a find, wife back in the Hamptons. She doesn’t like it down here, he does, and he likes me.
He’s offered to put me up in a condo in Venetian Bay, and I’m going to take him up on it, take him for as much as I can. You’re shocked, but Clayton is a billionaire. A hundred K is chump change to him.’ Frankie opened his mouth to speak, but she motioned for him to wait and took another sip of her coffee before carrying on.
‘Now I know you’re thinking this another bullshit story, and you’re not going to fall for it this time. So I’ve written down these details. My real name, the name of my father and mother and their address. My cell phone number, and each of their cell phone numbers. You can call them and ask them about my brother Nikita or Nick as he mostly gets called. After that, if you want to report me to the police, then be my guest, but I’d ask you to think if you could live with the knowledge that you’d denied my brother a chance to live. There that’s it. Now you can ask your questions.’ Frankie was trying to absorb what he’d just heard.
‘You sleep with people to get the money?’
‘Yes, but not like a prostitute, well not in my mind anyway. But I will use my looks to develop a relationship that enables me to get my hands on a significant amount of cash, and if that means sleeping with some guy, then yes I will, and I have.’
‘So you’re sleeping with Clayton?’
‘I can cope without the euphemism. What you mean is am I letting him fuck me. Yes of course I am. Every opportunity is different, so I play them as best I can. If I don’t have to have sex to get the money I won’t but if it’s the only way then I will. I was tempted to have sex with you ‘cos for once I found someone I genuinely liked, but I thought it would be better if I slipped you some Rophy instead.’
‘That sounds a bit contradictory, should I be insulted or flattered?’
‘Not sure, but it was obvious to me you’re still in love with your wife, despite what happened. Didn’t seem right somehow.’ Frankie took a swig of his now cold coffee.
‘Natalya Petrov. Did I pronounce that correctly?’
‘You did. Listen I hate to rush,’ She stood, ‘but if I don’t get back to Clayton now he’s going to wonder where I am. He can be a bit possessive, so I’ll have to go.’
‘Okay, well I’ll think about what you’ve told me. Will I see you again?’
‘Maybe? I live each day as it comes and try not to plan too far ahead. Bye Charlie, bye Frankie.’ Then she bent over and kissed Frankie full on the lips and walked quickly down Fifth Avenue without looking back.
Joe called back just after he’d arrived back in his room at The Cove.
‘Good news you said. I could do with some of that.’
‘Could be Joe. Leo Dvorak, Deanne’s brother, the journalist guy I told you about.’
‘Yeah, the guy who knows about these survivalists and stuff.’
‘Right, well, long story short, he’s been able to give me a location that might be the place where Billy Ray stayed. Some old logging camp in the Everglades. Reckons Billy Ray left ‘cos of a dengue fever outbreak, so he was able to trace the camp through some medical records at Miami hospital. This Leo guy said the dates are around the same time Deanne says Billy Ray left the camp.’
‘That’s great, when do we go?’
‘We?’
‘Yeah, I think a trip into the Everglades on your own might be a bit too.., not dangerous exactly, but off the beaten track it can get a bit tricky out there. I think two would be better than one, don’t you Frankie? Anyway, Billy Ray doesn’t know you from Adam so he might shoot first and ask who you were later.’
‘Shoot?’
‘Turn of phrase Frankie, but he won’t know who you are will he, so he might well get spooked?’
‘Yes, you’re right. So how soon can you be ready to go.’
‘You got good directions?’ Not easy to find stuff once you leave the main highway.’
‘I’m just looking at the email from Leo with the directions on it. He says he got the first part of the directions from Google, some place called Pa-hay-okee Trailhead, if I’m pronouncing it right that is? Then to get to the camp itself, he’s given me some GPS coordinates.’
‘Great stuff, email ‘em over. I’ve got plenty of GPS units here. Standard stuff on boats. Finding this place should be a breeze. How about we make an early start tomorrow. You can drop Charlie off here. Don’t want him eaten a by a gator, do we? Melinda can look after him. We’ll go in my truck. Six a.m. sound good to you?’
‘I’ll be there.’
‘Oh, and Frankie, best wear some long trousers and a shirt with sleeves. Maybe get a hat too. Those mosquitoes can be vicious varmints. Walmart’s the best bet if you haven’t got any of that sort of stuff.’
‘Okay Joe, I’ll go to Walmart later. See you at six.’
CHAPTER 27
PRESENT
FLORIDA 4 APRIL
Traffic was heavy on the US41 out of Naples. Joe had rigged up a separate GPS in the big silver truck he’d chosen for the journey. He explained that some satnavs used GPS but the integral one in the truck didn’t. Frankie had brought along the map and directions printout of the initial part of the journey which Joe had fed into the truck’s satnav system.
‘A hundred and thirty five miles, that right?’ asked Joe.
‘Yes correct, two hours and forty seven minutes it says.’
‘Okay well, we got plenty of time to think about how we handle this situation when and if we find Billy Ray and this girl. You had any thoughts on that?’
‘Yes. We have at least one death attributable to this situation, maybe two? The missing PI you hired may well be dead, at least based on what happened to Jerry. If we assume that Billy Ray was involved somehow, not in the actual killings, but witnessed them or whatever, then he’s not only fleeing a jealous husband who happens to be a Miami mobster, but is in fear for his life, and that of the woman. By the way, I found out her name. It’s Valentina. Looked her husband up on the internet. Like you said, he comes over as a respectable businessman. Involved in charities and all sorts of community projects. Are you sure this PI Mainous was right about him being a gangster?’
‘Chuck Mainous was certain of it. And as I said, he is, or he was, an ex Miami police detective, I think he’d know. And as you just pointed out, Jerry was murdered, and Mainous is missing, so if this Zaros character didn’t kill them, who did? And not forgetting, Billy Ray has stolen his wife. ’
‘You’re right. So back to his wife, like I said, she’s called Valentina. Saw a picture of her and she is a stunner.’
‘Am I surprised? That Billy Ray.... So let’s assume,’ said Joe, ‘that they’re at his camp we’re going to. Cos if they are there, how are we going to find out? I mean Billy Ray will have told them not to tell anyone, won’t he?’
‘I suppose he would have. Well, we tell them you’re his uncle and...hmm?’
‘Exactly, how can they deliver a message to someone they deny is there?’
‘How about you write a note to Billy Ray, show it to them so they can see what it says, and ask them to give the note to Billy Ray if he should turn up. Then we say we believe them if they claim Billy Ray isn’t there but we’ll hang around for half an hour anyway. That gives them a chance to give the note to Billy Ray and once he knows it is really you, why wouldn’t he show himself and at least listen to what you’ve got to say?’
‘Good idea, you got any paper?’
‘I’ve got my notebook. When we stop for petrol, sorry gas, you can write it out.’
‘And what am I going to say?’
‘Something only he and you would know, so he knows it’s definitely you. Could be something inconsequential from his childhood or a family matter that no one else would know about.’
‘Okay, got that. Looking ahead, I’ve been thinking about where he can hide them while we help him get this fixed. Another boat seems the obvious answer.’
‘Good short term solution Joe, but if this Zaros character is the sort of man we think he is, then he’s not going to cool down after a few days, change his mind and let Billy Ray off the hook. He’ll most certainly put a contract out on him, and that could be in place forever.’
‘You’re right Frankie. We need a long term solution, otherwise Billy Ray’s going to spend the rest of his life going from one hiding place to another and always looking over his shoulder.’
‘Okay, we’re agreed on that Joe, so any suggestions?’
‘Well, initially we give this Zaros guy time to calm down a little. Maybe I could also persuade Billy Ray to see sense, convince him there’s no future in this relationship. Maybe we try to persuade this guy’s wife to go back to her husband? Then if we can’t get Billy Ray or the woman to see sense, we try to negotiate. I mean if the guy likes money, maybe we can buy him off?’
‘Okay, but where are you going to get enough money to pay off a guy like that Joe? I don’t know what sort of sum you had in mind, but from what you said about him before, already having lots of millions, doesn’t sound like he’d be interested in a few thousand dollars?’ Joe looked conflicted.
‘I can get my hands on more if necessary. Let’s just leave it at that for the moment, okay?’ But Frankie didn’t think it was okay and wanted to know how Joe could find the sort of money they were discussing. He decided now might not be the right time to ask. They drove on in silence for a while.
‘We need to fill up,’ said Joe as they passed a sign indicating a gas station ahead. They pulled into the gas station forecourt, and Frankie went to the restrooms while Joe fuelled up the truck. When Frankie came back, he sat in the cab while Joe went to pay and use the restrooms. Joe returned, drove away from the gas pumps and parked at the far end of the gas station. ‘Let’s write this note. I thought of something only he and I would know. When he was about eleven, Billy Ray was shooting at tins in the yard with a .22 rifle when he accidentally shot next door’s cat. He came to me crying, and I knew it was an accident ‘cos he was so fond of that cat, always getting told off for bringing it up to his bedroom.
He was also sweet on the girl next door, similar age. Said she would never talk or play with him again if she knew he’d killed Kipper, name of her cat. So rightly or wrongly, I helped him bury it and told him it was our secret. Far as I know, no one else ever knew. I remember when he was much older, after a few beers, reminiscing about this and that, he told me he still felt bad about it. Funny how things like that stay with you ain’t it?’ Frankie passed his notebook and a pen to Joe. He wrote the note, folded it in two and put it in the glove compartment.
Joe started the engine, and they drove out of the gas station and back on to the highway. After a couple of miles, they encountered a traffic jam and had to slow down to a crawling pace. Joe looked at his watch.
‘Just what we need, hopefully this will clear soon enough,’ he said. After a frustrating ten minutes crawling along, they came to the source of the problem. A huge lorry transporting oranges had somehow left the highway and had spilt the contents of its load across both lanes. Joe laughed
‘Whole new meaning to the expression orange squash,’ he said and laughed at his own joke as they passed the police cars and emergency vehicles dealing with the accident.
‘That was my family’s business way back when,’ said Joe as he pressed down on the accelerator and they resumed driving at seventy miles an hour. Frankie looked at his watch.
‘Don’t worry Frankie, we’ll be there soon enough.’
‘The sooner, the better Joe. So tell me about this family business?’
‘You really want to know?’
‘It would be interesting, and we’ve got time to kill. My own family lived in the same area in the north of England since the beginning of time,’ said Frankie.
Joe laughed.
‘Okay, well my dad used to tell us kids all about our ancestor Hubert Nelson. He’d been a farmer in Sussex England, and for whatever reason, he got married and left England for a new start in America. They survived the crossing and eventually made their way to Florida. Seems they were able to raise enough money to buy a small orange farm in St. Augustine.
‘Great place to grow oranges,’ said Frankie
‘Yeah it is, but strange to say, oranges aren’t native to Florida, a guy called Ponce De Leon is said to have brought the original seeds over here.’
‘That name rings a bell. I think I’ve seen a statue to him in Naples?’
‘You have, on the 41, outside the First National Bank. Where was I, oh yeah, so five generations later, I came along. There were four of us kids in the family, my three sisters and me. My dad assumed that being the only other male in the family that I’d take on the farm when I left college. But I hated farming. My dad eventually admitted that my sister
Beth was a much better farmer and she loved it. I, on the other hand, loved boats, anything to do with water, and fishing and all that, so when I was eighteen, that would be in 87, I moved south to Naples Florida and never went back, apart from family visits, funerals and all that sort of stuff. My sis, that would be Billy Ray’s mom. She followed me down here, met a guy called Ballantyne settled down.
I’d got myself a job in Bill Kenwood’s Boatyard. I did everything, cleaned boats, repaired and delivered ‘em and sold ‘em. Then when 9/11 happened things changed. I got really angry. One of my childhood buddies was killed in the Twin Towers attack, and that made it personal. Bill, the owner of the boatyard, had passed two years earlier and he had no kids, no relatives he liked, so he left the yard to me. I renamed it Nelsons Boatyard in 2002.
Anyway, even though I’d married Belinda by then, I got all these noble patriotic feelings and felt I had to defend my country, so I joined the army. Belinda was distraught, but to quote John Wayne,’ and assuming a very realistic John Wayne drawl said ‘a man’s goddadoo what a man’s goddadoo.’ They both laughed. ‘Anyways, I left the business with my manager Rudy and ended up serving three years in the army, including a two year stint in the Iraq war where we met. So now you know.’
‘Really interesting Joe. Look that sign said five miles to the Pa-hay-okee Trailhead.’ They reached the turnoff and stopped while Joe switched on the GPS and punched in the coordinates. A map appeared on the screen showing their destination via a narrow trail off highway 9336. Joe turned the truck around and back on to the highway, then took a left down the trail shown on the map. There were signs of recent traffic along the bumpy old logging track, with broken branches and leaves littering the floor of the trail.
Joe looked at Frankie and raised his eyebrows. Hardwood tree hammocks grew at intervals. The vegetation on both sides was thick and impenetrable. Large birds flew out of the undergrowth on occasion, and in a heart stopping moment, a tiny deer leapt across their path. Joe braked just in time and managed to miss the delicate looking creature, and swore under his breath as he concentrated on avoiding the larger bumps and root growths in his path.
As the truck trundled along, low branches of mangrove trees occasionally swatted the windscreen then sprang back to partially screen the area behind them. As they drove deeper into the wetlands, Frankie could feel the increase in humidity and once again wondered at the craziness of people wanting to live in such an inhospitable wilderness. Joe tapped his finger on the GPS.
‘Nearly there,’ he said and turned a corner. The scene in front of them wasn’t exactly what they expected. The flashing blue and red lights of the two vehicles, one a police car the other a police truck, took them both by surprise.
‘What the fuck...?’ said Joe as he braked and brought the truck to a shuddering halt. Two policemen standing by their car turned around, looked at the truck, then both drew their side arms, pointed their guns at them and shouted.
‘Get out of the truck and put your hands on the roof, legs apart. Now!’ Joe and Frankie obeyed the officer’s instructions. One policeman approached, the other remained where he was. Frankie was the first to be patted down. He attempted to speak as the officer approached, but was told to shut up.
‘Clean,’ he shouted back to the other cop when he’d finished. Then he went round to Joe and gave him the same treatment. ‘Clean also,’ he shouted. ‘You can take your hands down now,’ he said to them both. The other officer lowered his gun and came to join them. In a more relaxed voice, the first policeman spoke.
‘Okay, explain why you’re here.’ He appeared to be the one in charge. Frankie left it to Joe to talk. He explained they were here to find his nephew Billy Ray Ballantyne, who’d gone missing some weeks ago.
‘Missing you say?’
‘Yeah, missing, as in we don’t know where he is.’
‘Okay, cut the sarcasm’ said the first officer, then the other policeman spoke.
‘So why do you think your nephew would be staying at this camp?’
‘It’s a long story, but Billy Ray, he stayed here some years ago. Recently he got mixed up with a woman, she’d run away from her husband and they, she and Billy Ray that is, were trying to hide from him. They’d originally hidden out on a boat I’d lent them, but somehow the husband found out where they were, so they hightailed it, and we thought this was a place Billy Ray might think would be a good place to hole up.’
