The Specter (16 page)

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Authors: Jonas Saul

BOOK: The Specter
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“I’m really scared,” she said.

 

Aaron nodded. He was scared too, but lost on what to do next. He hadn’t been admitting it to himself, but he was
seriously
scared. He was almost shot last night.

 

“I think those men wanted to kill everyone because of what Frank said.”

 

“Frank? You mean Frank Weeks?”

 

Julie nodded and reached for her tea, her hand shaking.

 

“My sister called me and left a message the night she disappeared,” Aaron started. “The message was unclear but I heard the name Weeks and I heard vodka, something about a ferry and David Hornell. She said she was scared and that someone was coming after her. I later put it together that David Hornell was the ferry that took people over to the Toronto Island Airport. I discovered that Weeks referred to the brothers who worked at the airport. The vodka angle isn’t clear yet, but the shooter last night said, ‘It was all about vodka.’ Does any of that coincide with what you know?”

 

“All of it.” Julie sipped her tea again. “The day before the British guy showed up, Frank came to the club like he always does. Except this time he seemed high or something, very happy and jumping all around. What was unusual was he had endless lap dances with …” She paused. “I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay. Just tell me. I know what my sister did.”

 

“Well, Frank kept having dance after dance. One of the bouncers asked Joanne if everything was okay because the girls have to dance on stage too. They have to take their turn but Joanne stayed with Frank. I served him that night.”

 

She set her tea cup down and leaned back in her chair. She collected herself, adjusted her pants, moved her hair from her shoulders and started again.

 

“Frank confided in Joanne. She told me and one of the bouncers after midnight that Frank had stolen luggage at the airport. He said no one would ever know it was him. I think what got everyone killed was what was in that suitcase.”

 

“What was in the suitcase?” Aaron asked.

 

“Apparently there had been thousands of dollars in cash and some sort of documents that belonged to an alcohol distillery or something.”

 

“That’s the vodka connection. It has to be.”

 

Julie nodded. “Sounds like it. But what I don’t understand is, no one kills this many people for ten thousand dollars. If it was millions, maybe, but not thousands.”

 

She was right
, Aaron thought. The deaths weren’t motivated by money. It had to be the papers found in the suitcase. Or it could be the fact that someone stole from a rich guy and he took it personally. There really was no way for anyone to know except for the guy doing the killing.

 

“Can you remember if Frank talked about the documents? Was there anything important in them?”

 

“He did mention that it was brilliant. I brought over his third beer of the night around eleven and he said to Joanne that the files were genius. ‘Who would’ve thought. Those scientists.’ Something like that.” She narrowed her eyes, lost in thought. “Wait a second … there was something he said to your sister as I walked away. It was hard to hear as the music was so loud.” Julie looked back at him. “Something about it had been going on for a long time. I heard the word ‘years.’ Then he said, ‘the guy is getting crazy rich because of it.’ I walked out of earshot by that point. I’m pretty sure that was it.”

 

“You may have the answer. Whatever was in those documents may be enough to kill for. Do the police know any of this?”

 

She shook her head and fidgeted with her hands on her lap. “I gave them my statement about what happened at the club last night. That was all I could think about. I didn’t think what Frank said to Joanne was all that important.”

 

“I think it’s what got him, and a lot of other people, killed.”

 

Julie’s parents kept a nice house. They looked like they had money. What happened to Julie that she would have to work in a strip club?

 

Julie had long curly hair down past her shoulders, beautiful teeth and a wicked smile. How he hadn’t noticed how smoking hot she was before was a testament to how much stress he was under.

 

“Can you tell me what the cops think about last night?”

 

“I was waiting for you to ask. I thought that was the reason you followed the cop here.”

 

“You saw me?” Aaron asked, surprised.

 

“Sure. I knew your Nissan right away after yesterday morning when the bouncers headed out to scare you.”

 

“And you didn’t tell the cop? You weren’t worried about me?”

 

She shook her head. “Not after what you and your friends did for us last night. I’d be dead if you hadn’t come searching for answers and that’s what I told the cops. You’re a hero. They’re looking for you to get your version of events, but that’s it, as far as I know. Even the bouncers are happy you put them all to sleep, otherwise they would’ve tried to play hero and gotten shot.”

 

Relief swept over him. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that. I thought they’d be gunning for my head. I just wasn’t getting any answers.” Maybe it was time to meet up with Folley and tell him everything. “I guess I should be going. I probably need to get down to the police station to give them my statement too.” He stood and slipped his hands in his pockets, suddenly shy in her presence.

 

“Yeah, I could use some sleep.”

 

“Me too. I slept in my car last night. After everything went crazy, I didn’t know what to do or where to go.” He stepped around the coffee table and started for the front door. “Are you going to be safe here?”

 

She nodded, her eyes shutting for a prolonged moment in her own subtle way. “Yes, as far as everyone’s concerned, they’ve caught the bad guys.”

 

“But what if the bad guy just sends someone else? I’m not trying to frighten you, but that’s what I would do if I was the bad guy.”

 

“Then teach me all that karate stuff,” Julie said as she moved her arms up and down and in circles trying to imitate Bruce Lee and looking like a human windmill. Aaron fought hard not to laugh.

 

“Were you going to laugh?” she asked. “Watch yourself, I could get you,” she lunged in playfully, Aaron easily sidestepping her advance. He grabbed Julie, hugged her to him and spun them in unison to the wall away from the front door. She gasped and settled into his arms for a moment.

 

Then the floodgates opened. It felt like someone had punched him in the stomach as he bent over and slipped to his knees.

 

“Joanne’s dead,” he mumbled, his lower lip shaking. “My sister is dead because someone stole a piece of luggage and went to where … she works and …” He sobbed, wiped his eyes and tried to speak. Julie patted his shoulder in a gentle consoling manner. “She was innocent,” he continued, “I was going to get her out of that life. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, Joanne. I should’ve done more.”

 

Aaron lowered himself even farther, lying out on the carpeted floor of Julie’s house and cried. He cried for all the missing years, for what his parents did to him and his sister and what society had allowed to happen to his family. It wasn’t the best time to lose control—but he couldn’t pick the time his emotions would bowl over. Having not slept much, the adrenaline rush of last night gone and discovering that his sister was probably killed to hide someone’s secret, and he lost control. How more unjust could the world be?

 

Julie walked away and came back a moment later with a Kleenex for him. He wiped at his puffed-up eyes, dabbing at the moisture collected around the lids. After a moment, he picked himself up off the floor, walked over, and eased back onto the couch.

 

“Why?” he asked. “Why did this have to happen? I loved my sister so much.” The tears tried to break free again. It was the first time he had truly wept for Joanne since her voice message all those days ago.

 

“I’m sorry,” Julie offered. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

 

He stared at the Kleenex in his hand, embarrassed that he had broken down in front of her. He needed to leave. He needed to be alone for a while and then he needed to talk to Folley. After that, he would sleep at home, not in his car, and then he would find out who was behind the killing of his sister. Someone had to be accountable.

 

He rose from the couch and approached the hall. “I should go.”

 

“You going to be okay?” Julie asked.

 

He nodded, still looking down at the Kleenex, twisting it through his fingers. “Yeah. I gotta deal with this.” He met her eyes. “I can do it. It’s just hard, you know. Real hard.” The tears threatened again for a moment.

 

“I understand. Here, let me get you my phone number if you want to talk. You can call me. I’ll get a pen and paper in the kitchen—”

 

Someone knocked on the front door.

 

Aaron reached out and slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her into him and away from the open hallway where anyone at the front door would see her if it were open. “You expecting anyone?” he whispered into her ear.

 

Julie shook her head. He could feel the fear coming off her as her body shook.

 

Could whoever was behind the carnage of the last few days work that fast? Did they have unlimited amounts of hit men out there just sitting around waiting for the next assignment? Or was it a Jehovah’s Witness spreading the word? If it was, he needed someone to punch.

 

She curled up inside his arms for the protection he offered. He could smell her, feel her and yearned to not let her go.

 

No one is going to get this girl. Not with me around.

 

He moved his mouth down close to her ear. “Stay here. Don’t move into the hall or whoever is at the front door might see you through the shadows in the peep hole.”

 

She nodded and slipped out of his grasp. He eased up on the left side of the front window and knelt down. If the unknown visitor watched the living room window for movement, they would be staring at the height of where they would expect a head to be. They wouldn’t be staring at the bottom left corner.

 

He moved the curtain back ever so slightly and only using his right eye, peeked around the edge of the window’s trim.

 

A man in a long black overcoat stood at the door, his hands clasped together in front of him. He wore black gloves on his hands, which seemed strange for this time of year.

 

The man knocked again. The human eye is drawn to movement, so Aaron turned slowly to look in the driveway and the road beyond, but saw no vehicle. Maybe the man was a salesman of some kind doing his door-to-door thing. He could be a spreader of the Good Word religious freak or even a nice neighbor asking for a cup of sugar. Whoever he was and whatever his intentions were, Aaron felt a certain unease.

 

Ever so slowly, he angled his head to look at the unwanted visitor.

 

The man stared back at Aaron. He smiled and raised his hand. In it there was a long piece of steel that glinted in the sunlight.

 

The gun fired.

 

Aaron barely had time to register what was happening. The sharp tone of glass breaking an inch from his face pierced the air. Wood chipped off the trim where his face had rested less than a second before.

 

He rolled onto his back, pushed into a roll and flipped up, landing in his stance. Julie let out a short shriek before she covered her mouth and stared at Aaron as if he’d been shot. Her glazed eyes were wide in fear and shock.

 

“We have to go. Now,” Aaron shoved her out of the paralysis of fear even while his legs turned rubbery. He hated the thought of dealing with guns. Why couldn’t the goons show up with some other weapon?

 

He held Julie’s wrist and guided her to the back of the house. His mind raced over possible escape routes. He remembered the yellow house directly behind Julie’s, but it was some kind of caged-animal zoo. That wouldn’t fare well.

 

When they reached the kitchen, he heard the bolt disengage on the front door.

 

“Shit, he’s picking the lock.”

 

Whoever had sent this man didn’t want anyone alive knowing anything about what Frank Weeks found in that piece of luggage, Aaron was sure. These people were serious hired assassins who would stop at nothing. He was in way over his head.

 

“Is there an easy way out through the back? A fence we can jump or a path through to another back yard? Anything?”

 

Julie stammered for a moment, her eyes wild and unclear. She was losing self control fast. He had to get her out of the house while she was still on her own two feet. Collapsing on him wouldn’t be good.

 

Aaron glanced over his shoulder. The doorknob lock turned back and forth as the goon tried to gain access. They were down to seconds.

 

Aaron ran across the kitchen and ripped open the back door that led out onto a patio. He motioned for Julie to come outside. She followed slower than he wanted, but once outside, he shut the door behind them.

 

“Run to the back of your yard and climb the fence. Find shelter on that street and wait for me. Now go!”

 

“But what about you—”

 

“Go!” he ordered.

 

Aaron moved the barbecue out of the way so he could climb onto the deck’s railing. He stood to his full height and then grabbed the eaves trough on the edge of the roof above his head. With a strong push off with his feet, he lifted himself onto the edge of the roof, kicked his right foot up so his leg was parallel with the ground, and then rolled onto the black shingles. He lay on his back, staring up at the clear blue sky. His heart raced as fear set in. It wasn’t minutes ago that he was crying like a baby in Julie’s living room and now he was on her roof with a gunman inside the house, hunting them.

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