The Night Monster (8 page)

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Authors: James Swain

BOOK: The Night Monster
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“I’ve hired the best detective agency in town to find Sara. They’re wired into the police and also the criminal underground. They’re professionals, which is more than I can say about you.”

Private detective agencies were good at staking out motel rooms and digging up dirt, and little else. Long had probably paid the agency a big retainer, and in return, gotten a lot of promises. The agency had also probably told him some unpleasant things about me. I was the bad guy in all this, just like I’d been the bad guy for saving Bobby Monroe’s life.

But none of that fazed me. I guess you could say I was used to it. Taking out my wallet, I removed my business card. Long acted astonished when I gave it to him.

“You’ve got to be joking,” he said.

“Take it,” I said.

“Why should I?”

“Because you’re going to need all the help you can get.”

“You think so?”

“Yes, I do. These guys are pros.”

Long tore my business card in two and let the pieces flutter from his hands.

“Get lost,” he said.

I walked down the bleachers toward the arena. The Lady Seminoles had taken a break, and I spotted Jessie standing by the sidelines, waving to me. There was a pleading look in her eyes that told me she had something important to tell me.

I put Karl Long out of my mind and hurried toward her.

CHAPTER 12

essie was breathing hard as I approached. “How’s practice going?” I asked.

“Horrible. I can’t stop thinking about Sara, and neither can anyone else.”

“You need to focus on the game tonight.”

“I’m trying, Daddy.”

Jessie glanced over her shoulder at her coach, who was standing nearby, then dropped her voice. “A couple of the girls on the team want to talk to you.”

“About Sara?”

My daughter wiped the sweat from her face with a towel. “Yeah.”

“Why the secrecy?”

“Some of the girls broke curfew the other night, and Sara was with them,” Jessie explained. “I don’t think they want coach to hear what they have to say.”

“Have they told the police about this?”

“No. I overheard them talking in the locker room earlier. I cornered them, and told them they should tell you, and that you wouldn’t rat them out. You won’t, will you?”

Keeping secrets from the police during a criminal investigation
wasn’t just wrong, it was against the law. If I spoke to Jessie’s teammates and didn’t tell the police, I’d be committing a crime myself. I vehemently shook my head.

“But Daddy—”

“If it’s important, then I’ll have to tell the police.”

“Can’t you leave their names out of it?”

I wasn’t going to make promises I couldn’t keep. “Tell your friends to meet me in the lobby near the concession stands after practice. If they tell me something that will help the police find Sara, then they’ll have to come forward and give a statement to the police. Otherwise, I won’t use their names. Deal?”

My daughter was squirming. It reminded me of how young she still was. The same went for the rest of the girls on the team. The coach’s whistle cut through the air.

“All right,” Jessie said. “Did you call Mom?”

“Not yet.”

“Daddy! Call her!”

I parked myself by the hot-dog stand in the lobby and contemplated calling my wife. Rose worked as a nurse in Tampa, and I knew her break times by heart. She was on one now, and I would have enjoyed hearing her voice.

I decided against it. I was trying to convince Rose to move back to Fort Lauderdale, but I still didn’t have anything for her to come home to. Not a house, nor a bank account, just a business finding missing kids that was making enough money for me to feed me and my dog and pay my rent. The last thing she needed to be hearing was my tales of wrestling with alligators and getting knocked unconscious in motel parking lots.

A thunderclap broke my concentration. The lobby was lined with tinted windows that stretched to the ceiling, and outside a heavy rain was falling between golden rays of sunshine. In south Florida, it could be storming and be sunny at the same time, the good and the bad joined at the hip.

Two girls from the team appeared dressed in street clothes with
their hair still wet from a shower. Amber Woodward, a tall, lanky redhead, was one of the team’s forwards, while Holly Masterson, a short, compact brunette, excelled in defense. Neither looked ready to talk, and I extracted a pack of chewing gum from my pocket and offered both girls a stick. They accepted, and the three of us chewed in silence.

“Maybe I should go first,” Holly finally said.

“Please,” I said.

“We came to Fort Lauderdale two days ago for the tournament. The first day we practiced, had dinner, and went to the motel. Right when we were going to bed, Sara came to our room and asked me and Suzie if we wanted to visit the Hard Rock Casino.

“At first we both said no. Coach is strict about curfew, and she’ll bench us if we break it. But Sara wanted to see the celebrities who hung out there. She even offered to pay the cabfare. So we caved and said okay.

“We got to the Hard Rock around eleven. The place was packed, and we walked around the casino floor and people-watched for a while. It was fun, and we didn’t feel like we were doing anything wrong, you know?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Then things got ugly,” Amber chimed in.

I gave Amber my full attention. Despite her size, she was a scrapper, and I’d seen her mix it up with lots of players bigger than her, and usually come out on top.

“What happened?” I asked.

“A man was filming us with his cell phone, and wouldn’t stop,” Amber said. “He approached Sara, and started asking her weird questions, like how were her classes going, and things like that. He seemed to know stuff about her.”

“Can you describe him?”

“He was in his late-forties, kind of short and thin. He hadn’t bathed in a while, and his clothes were dirty. Finally I had enough of his questions, and told him to leave us alone. That was when I realized I’d seen him before.”

“You had? Where?”

“He was on the sidelines with a video camera during last week’s game against Georgia. He stuck out because he was dressed so crummy.”

“You’re sure it was the same man?”

“Yes. It was him.”

“Where was the game played?”

“At home in Tallahassee.”

Her answer gave me pause. Tallahassee housed the state’s capital, and as a result, had more cops and law enforcement people than most Florida cities. I found myself wondering if Sara’s abductors had purposely waited to abduct Sara in Fort Lauderdale, where there were fewer cops and a lot more places to get lost.

“Is there anything else you want to tell me?” I asked.

Both girls shook their heads. I took out my wallet and handed them my business cards. “That’s my cell phone. Call me anytime if you think of something else.”

“We will,” they both said.

Outside it had stopped raining and the sun had come out. The team bus pulled up to the front door and the driver honked his horn. I escorted Amber and Holly outside, and waited for Jessie to come out with the rest of the team. She appeared moments later, and we hugged.

“Did you learn anything?” she asked.

“Yes. Thanks for coming through.”

Jessie got on the bus, and I watched it leave. I went to my car and got behind the wheel. I had information that the police desperately needed to hear, only a nagging question kept running through my mind. Would they listen to what I had to say?

The answer, I quickly discovered, was no.

I called Boone, Weaver, and Burrell. After I told them what I’d learned, each detective told me an arrest in Sara’s case was imminent and hung up. They had almost sounded like they were reading from a script.

My next call was to Chief Black Cloud, leader of the Seminole Indian
nation. The Seminoles owned the Hard Rock Casino and were one of the richest tribes in the country. Chief Black Cloud had single-handedly built the casino and made his people rich. Recently he’d been forced to step down as president, but his smiling photograph remained on the tribe’s website, and I knew that he still ran things.

I had visited the Hard Rock plenty of times as a cop. Its glittering casino was a magnet for runaways, and I’d pulled many off the casino floor and returned them to their parents. I had done this without disrupting the casino’s business, or alerting the press. I’d respected the tribe, and as a result, I had a good relationship with Black Cloud.

A secretary patched me through, and Black Cloud picked up on the first ring.

“Good afternoon, Jack,” Black Cloud said.

“Good afternoon, Chief,” I replied.

“Che-Han-Tah-Mo, Ah-hee-tho-sta.”

“Shtongo, edama-he-do.”

The Seminoles had two traditional languages. The chief had greeted me in Creek, and I had responded in Miccosukee, a few lines of which I’d learned growing up.

“Not bad for a half breed,” Black Cloud said.

I would have taken offense, only I knew Black Cloud was a half breed himself.

“So what can I do for you today?” the chief asked.

“I’m calling to ask a favor.”

“Are you looking for a job? I heard you were no longer a policeman. I could set you up right now to run our security team. You would fit in well here. Say yes, and I’ll make the call.”

Black Cloud had offered me several jobs over the years, all of which I’d turned down. It had nothing to do with the money, which was excellent, or the people, whom I liked. His casino had no windows, and being stuck inside a building without sunshine for eight hours a day was for me the equivalent of going straight to hell.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m on my own now,” I said.

“Still finding missing kids?”

“Yes.”

“You were good at that. What can I do for you?”

“Two nights ago, a man was spotted in your casino stalking three women from the Florida State women’s basketball team. One of those women was later abducted from her motel room. With your permission, I’d like to visit the casino’s surveillance control room, and see if I can spot this man on your surveillance tapes. If I can identify him, it might lead me to the missing girl.”

“I don’t know, Jack,” the chief said. “The surveillance control room is off-limits to everyone but a handful of people. Even I have a hard time getting in there.”

“I need for an exception to be made. A girl’s life is at stake.”

“How soon would you like to come in?”

“Right now.”

“Will you be bringing any policemen with you?”

“No, I’ll be by myself.”

“Do the police know about this man who was in our casino?”

“The police have another suspect in custody who they’re going to charge with the crime. I told the police about the man in your casino, but they refused to listen.”

“This sounds personal, Jack. Is it?”

Through my mind flashed Sara Long’s abduction and the beating I’d taken, the police’s unwillingness to listen to my story, and finally Karl Long’s blistering accusations that I was lousy at my work.

“Yes, it’s personal,” I said.

“I will see what I can do. Give me a number where you can be reached.”

I gave the chief my cell phone number and thanked him for his help.

CHAPTER 13

decided to grab lunch while waiting for Black Cloud to call me back. A number of fast-food restaurants were located around the arena, and I opted for a McDonald’s Value Meal, a twelve-hundred-calorie artery-clogging feast for a mere six bucks. Normally, I tried to stay away from fast food, except when I was on a case. Then it was practically all I ate.

As I was pulling out of the drive-through with my grub, my cell phone played its familiar song. The caller ID said
SUNSET.
It was Sonny.

“How’s it going?” I answered.

“Not so good,” Sonny said. “You need to get over here on the double.”

“Can it wait? I’m working.”

“It’s your dog.”

Something hard dropped in the pit of my stomach.

“Is Buster okay?”

“Oh, he’s just dandy.”

Buster wasn’t hurt, and I felt myself relax.

“What did he do?”

“The bar got busy, so I stuck him upstairs in your room. The next
thing I know, it sounds like World War Three is going on up there. He was going bonkers.”

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