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I found several pairs of Flexcuffs in the SUV and used them to bind my new friends once inside the house. Cynthia Haynes was nice enough to provide duct tape to keep them quiet, so I could figure out what to do next.
I fed Kruger and sat with Cynthia at the small table in her kitchen. She had brewed coffee for the goons tied up in her living room and offered me a cup. I accepted as she sat down and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. Her hands were shaking, and I could see she had tried to cover up a bruise on her face with makeup.
“I’m sorry they’re bleeding on your floor,” I said, nodding to the man Kruger had gnawed on. Both men were hogtied in the living room.
“They’ll just send more, you know,” Cynthia said. “That man is very powerful.”
“Well, let’s talk about that. Who are they and what do they want with you?”
“I don’t even know who you are. You some kinda cop or something? That ain’t no normal dog.”
I looked at Kruger as she just finished licking her bowl clean. “No, she’s not. I’m not with NOPD. I’m just trying to get some answers.”
“For what? Is that why you were here?”
“Yes,” I said before sipping the coffee. “I came to talk to you.”
“I don’t know nothin’!”
“Relax,” I said, noticing her body language suddenly turn very defensive. “I’m not here to hurt you. In fact, I think you may need my help. Why don’t you tell me what those two wanted from you?”
Cynthia looked away and folded her arms. She rubbed her neck as she avoided eye contact.
“Would you rather I let them go and let them take you wherever they were going to take you?”
“No!”
“I promise you I’m here to help. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
“They wanted to take me to go see that man...Mr. Houston.”
“Mike Houston? Who is he?
Cynthia sighed. “You promise you won’t let those men take me?”
“You have my word,” I said before nodding to Kruger. “And hers too.”
“When my brother died,” Cynthia began, pausing to close her eyes. “I still can’t believe they killed him.”
I nodded, not wanting to get into an argument about poor life choices leading to her brother’s death.
“Go on.”
“When that state trooper killed Terry, Deacon Carter told me he could get my family some money. All I had to do was say what they told me to the reporters and talk at the rallies. I was so mad that they killed him just for being black. I didn’t think nothing of it,” she said as she started to cry.
“It’s okay,” I said as I reached across the table to stroke her hand.
“I did what they asked. I did everything. I got the money and I kept my mouth shut. But then I overheard them talking about LeShawn yesterday. They killed him!”
“Wait,” I said, as I leaned back to process what she had just said. “LeShawn Revis?”
Cynthia nodded. “I knew him from the church. He was a good man. He didn’t deserve that.”
“How do you know they killed him?”
“I heard Deacon Carter talking to one of his body guards about how they dealt with him and made it look good. I didn’t think nothing of it until they said he killed himself. That man did not kill himself. He loved his wife and baby. He had gone straight, you know? He didn’t kill himself.”
“So, what did you do?”
“I confronted him. I told Deacon Carter that there was no way he killed himself, and I didn’t know what they was doing but I didn’t want no part of it anymore. I told him I ain’t doing no more interviews or talking in public.”
“So he yelled at you?” I remembered the scene at the playground.
“Not at first. At first he just said ‘we’ll see’ and then walked away. But then I was out watching the kids and he got real mad and came out and told me I needed to act right or I’d have to give the money back. He said they needed me to do some more stuff.”
“That was earlier today?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“Just a guess.”
“So when I went home, these two showed up at my door and said I need to go talk to Mr. Houston himself. They said he wanted to talk to me, and he would give me more money if I went with them. When I said told them I wasn’t gonna, they said I didn’t have a choice. Then you showed up.”
“Do you know who this Houston guy is?”
“Some rich big wig. That’s all I know.”
I pushed my chair back from the table and stood. “I‘ll find out.”
“Wait,” she said. “You’re still gonna help me, right?”
“I’m going to get you somewhere safe, but first I’m going to have a chat with our friends in your living room.”
I walked into the kitchen and started opening drawers, looking for something useful to help me coerce our guests into talking. In the fourth drawer, I found a corkscrew and decided it would be good enough if they decided to resist.
As I walked into the living room, the guard with the fresh bite marks on his leg groaned. I ignored him as I walked to the other guard and squatted down, tossing the corkscrew on the ground in front of his face.
As the guard nervously eyed the object in front of him, I ripped the tape from his mouth and balled it up. I toyed with it for a second and then tossed it to the side before I reached down and picked up the corkscrew.
“Who are you?” the guard asked nervously.
“It doesn’t matter,” I replied. “I’m not the one hogtied on the floor.”
With a sudden gain of confidence, the guard laughed. “They’ll kill you, you know. You’re a dead man.”
I squatted down and looked the man in the eye.
“I’ve been dead for a long time.”
“Real funny, but you have no idea what you’re getting into.”
“Let’s start with names. You and your bleeding friend. And which one of you is in charge here. You?”
“I just work here.”
“Do you, though?” I asked, toying with the corkscrew in my hand.
“What? So you’re going to torture us? You think we’re scared of you?”
“Good point,” I said before whistling.
The sound of her claws on the hard floors preceded Kruger’s entrance as she trotted in. The other guard squirmed and grunted through the duct tape covering his mouth.
“Winner, winner,” I said as I stood and walked over to the other guard.
I squatted down and ripped the tape from his mouth, balling it up and tossing it aside as Kruger walked up to me. I scratched behind her ears as I watched the guard look up in terror.
“You heard the questions,” I said.
“We work security for Mr. Houston!”
“And what did you want with Ms. Haynes?”
“He told us to come get her.”
“And take her where?”
“He said to call him when we were on the way and he’d tell us.”
“Does he have an office or house in the city?”
“Yeah, but he wouldn’t have us take her there.”
“Why not?”
The other guard interjected. “Shut up, dumbass!”
I stood and grabbed the duct tape. “That’s enough out of you.”
I duct taped the other guard’s mouth and then returned to the other one.
“He’s right. I ain’t talking!” the guard said defiantly as I squatted down next to him.
“Looks like we struck a nerve,” I said as I reached behind the guard’s back and grabbed his broken finger. “Why not?”
“Because Mr. Houston isn’t coming back to the city until it’s over,” he replied as he winced in pain.
“Until what’s over?”
“The attack!”
“What attack?” I asked, applying pressure to his finger.
“I don’t know! I swear! I just know it’s going to be big. Real big. They told us to get everyone we love out the city.”
“When? When is the attack?”
“I don’t know! Two or three days! They didn’t tell us specifics, I swear!”
“Where?”
“Everywhere. It’s the whole city. That’s all I know. They didn’t tell us.”
“Shit,” I hissed as I picked up the duct tape roll and taped his mouth.
I walked back into the kitchen and found Haynes still crying at the table. “Pack a bag. We’re leaving.”
“Where are we going?”
“I’m going to get you to safety,” I said. “Go!”
She reluctantly complied and disappeared toward the bedroom. When she was gone, I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed Tanner.
“Special Agent Tanner,” she answered.
“Hey, it’s Troy. I think you might want to get down here.”