Page 23 of Jason's Justice
“I asked if you had a person outside with the hopes of maybe getting the two of them together, not physically in the same location, but maybe have them exchange numbers and report to one another, while if need be, we could contact them to check things out.” He looked at Kevin. “Just like your captain said, reach out if we need him.”
“Do we need them?”
“Not at this time, but I like to have my ducks in a row. You never know when we might come across some crucial information that might need to be checked out right away.”
“I can call Lyle,” Ilsa said, and turned toward Kevin. “Do you have your Captain’s contact information?”
“I do.” He wrote the information on a pad of paper, and Ilsa did the same thing. They went into different areas of the cabin to make their phone calls, while Jason cleaned up from their dinner. Twenty minutes later, Ilsa and Kevin walked back in and told Jason everything was good to go, and that their people would be waiting for any calls or instructions. They finished cleaning, and because it was yet another late night, they retired to their rooms.
CHAPTER 10
Larry Mason sighed heavilyas he looked at the slew of text messages coming across his phone screen. Based on the wording, he knew his boss was pissed. He knew he was in trouble, not only with his boss, but also with what he had been doing for years. Maybe it was time to come clean, but he had no idea who to go to. He was an agent with the FBI for god’s sake, who could he go to for help? As he looked at the incoming messages, the next one getting angrier than the last, a name and face popped into his head, and he paused, closed his eyes, and after about ten minutes of self-reflection, he made a decision.
As he walked to his Bureau issued vehicle, he sent a text that he hoped would appease his boss. Oh, he knew it wouldn’t be totally calming, but it would buy him time. Once in his vehicle, he used one of the button cameras he’d confiscated from the FBI, and made sure it went to an app on his computer at home. He only had to trust the technology, and then he would verify it when he got home.
On the twenty-minute drive, correction, what was supposed to be twenty minutes turned into an hour and a half due to traffic, he reflected on what he had to do. He didn’t know whether he was shocked or not when last week, while at home,he had answered a knock on the door, expecting it to be his pizza delivery, but he had been served papers. Turned out his wife wasn’t asking for a divorce, she had sought one out and had been granted one. Not that he didn’t blame her, he would divorce himself if he had a chance. Maybe he could do good in the near future, all he knew was that he couldn’t live like this any longer.
Since he was already running behind, Larry decided to swing in a fast-food drive-thru. When he arrived at the parking lot at his office, he sat there and ate his late lunch. If he was going to get reamed out, and berated by the man in charge, then he might as well have a full stomach, and took twenty minutes to enjoy the tasteless, but fulfilling meal. On the way into the office, he tossed his trash in the trash bin outside the door, and wandered in. He was in no hurry to be berated and belittled.
As soon as Kevin stepped off the elevator, the receptionist only shook her head at him, leaned forward and whispered.
“I don’t know what you did, but I hope your life insurance policy is up-to-date. He’s fit to be tied.”
“Yeah, but I don’t control the traffic. There was an accident on the one ten.”
“Shit,” she whispered, and waved her hand for him to go down the hall to Director Grayson’s office.
Kevin knocked once, not waiting for a response, turned the handle and walked in. He braced himself for the onslaught of angry words headed his way. It didn’t take long for them to come.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
“Taking care of that matter we discussed three days ago.”
“What matter was that?”
Larry held his breath when he knew he would get some incriminating information on tape. Finally, Director Grayson was so frazzled about something, his cool demeanor was cracking.
“The girls we took off the streets last week. There was a problem with a couple of them.”
“What sort of problem?”
“The guys you hired to handle them got a little rough with them.”
“Rough how? How can anyone get rough with prostitutes? They’re nothing but whores and should be treated accordingly.”
“Yeah, you may think that, but what about the buyers you have lined up with them? Don’t you think they don’t want the women they paid you good money for not to be bruised and battered? That’s what I was dealing with. One of your thugs took it upon himself to try to test the merchandise. They said no, and he almost raped one of the girls, but not before he beat her up. Thankfully, you have a doctor on call. I had to call him so he could set her jaw and nose.”
“Was she taken into the hospital?”
“No, he said it wouldn’t be necessary.”
“Where’s the thug now? And who was it?”
“Guy that goes by the street name of Mouse. The women did a number on him. I locked him in one of the empty cages waiting for more women to arrive. I didn’t want him out on the streets to run his mouth. I told him that you would deal with him.” Larry shook his head and held up his hands at the look on the other man’s face. “No, we had a deal, I get the girls, you get the thugs, and you deal with them. I have my hands full with the girls.”
“Fine, I’ll deal with him when we’re done here.” FBI Director George Grayson sat heavily in the chair behind his desk and pointed in the general direction of the small kitchenette. “Help yourself to coffee or water.”
His statement shocked the hell out of Larry because Grayson never offered refreshments. Larry declined, feeling like it might be a set-up, and took the offered chair before the desk.
