CHAPTER 21
Ahote looked down at the parks-and-rec employee’s body and breathed in deeply before he dumped it in the fresh hole he had just dug deep in the woods near his trailer in Macomb County. The property had once been a busy hub thirty years earlier when Max Mueller was alive and still carrying out his human-trafficking business. But now it was just Ahote out here these days, giving him enough reclusive freedom to do whatever he wanted. Well, almost anything, except for what he wanted the most. Ahote’s gray T-shirt clung to his still strong as a slab of granite, almost-sixty-year-old body, and he sighed as he realized the parks-and-rec employee would have to satisfy him. For now.
A fat, brown worm poked its head out of the latest shovel of dirt, and then was tossed over the parks-and-rec worker’s body as Ahote thought through his busywork. Ahote realized his new boss wanted Duke Gooden, first and foremost, not the daughter Julia, but Ahote hoped that when it came down to it, he could get Julia alone to see if she carried the same spirit of her brother, who had eluded him so many years before. As for the Sarah woman, he was glad when she didn’t show up in the parking lot, as they had thought she would. There was something off in Sarah’s spirit that Ahote could detect merely from the photograph his new boss had shown him. The darkness of another being’s soul intermingles with one’s own if you take its life, like drops of thick mud that are mixed into a crystal clear glass of water.
Ahote finished burying the man and made his way back through the woods to his trailer, dragging the shovel behind him as he walked. The old scar on his face seemed to throb anew as if Duke Gooden had just carved it with that straight-edge razor he had sliced him with so many years before. The fresh pain from the old wound meant only one thing to Ahote: Duke was close. Duke and Ahote would be together again soon, and the circle would finally close.
The dense packing of trees cleared and Ahote slowed as he saw his new boss’s car parked by his trailer. He knew he was in trouble for coming up empty-handed once again, not to mention the still-brewing situation of his killing the city councilman’s nephew. Ahote knew he might run the risk of dying for his slips in judgment, but he refused to go down without a fight. Ahote pushed his shoulders back, grabbed the shovel in both hands, and held it in front of his body like a battering ram as he approached the vehicle.
Two car doors opened simultaneously, and Ahote watched as the boss and another man, whose face looked hard and angry, got out of the car.
“What the hell is this?” the new boss asked, and jerked his thumb toward the city parks-and-rec van.
“It was a decoy. The guy got in my way and started to cause me trouble in the park. I figured the city van would be better anyway.”
“You idiot. You left your piece of shit vehicle behind at the crime scene. This is a big problem, Ahote. A really big problem. The cops matched your plate to surveillance footage from a convenience station that places you at the Home Depot where the city councilman’s nephew was picked up.”
“I thought the security video was taken care of,” Ahote answered.
“That was only a temporary fix,” the other man answered. He wiped his brow with his shirtsleeve and then turned his attention to the new boss. “Why am I here cleaning up your shit? I took care of Max when I had to, and, believe me, that was the last thing I ever wanted to do. Max promised me my debt was paid.”
“Max is gone. There’s a change of guard now. Your debt is paid when I tell you it is,” the boss said. He reached inside his own jacket, pulled out his gun, and shoved the barrel against Ahote’s temple. “What good are you still to me? Tell me, screwup.”
“Give me another chance. I’ll bring you Julia Gooden, and I’ll hurt her real good. She’ll give up her father. No one can get people to talk like I can.”
The boss seemed to consider Ahote’s proposition and then smiled.
“Bang, bang,” the boss said as he put his gun away.
“Do you think Duke knows the truth about what was in the box that Lemming gave him?” the other man asked.
“I doubt it. He was only trying to unload the painting when he thought he was in the clear after Max died.”
“What’s the other thing worth?” Ahote asked.
“Fifty million. At least,” the boss answered. “Bring me Julia Gooden if you can’t bring me Duke first. The sister Sarah’s in the wind. But be careful, idiot. Your van’s plates trace to St. Louis. I’ve got a work-around, so you may be okay.”
“You didn’t say anything about the reporter,” the other man said. “I don’t have any problem with whatever you want to do with Duke, but she hasn’t done anything.”
“Tough guy loses his swagger about hurting a girl. Don’t worry. You’ll get your cut when this is taken care of.”
“I don’t care about the money.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Everybody cares about money and everyone has a price. Even you.”