Chapter 23

  

Tara came home in the cool evening to discover Brodie sprawled disconsolately on the sofa, looking desperately in need of a drink. Katy was curled up at his side sound asleep, her head tucked against his ribs and arm flung over him, her fingers twitching as she dreamt. Moron was stretched out beside her, big head draped over Katy’s legs. She thought the three of them looked cute.

 

Flinging her bag down on the chair beside them she leaned over and gave Brodie a sweet kiss which he returned. Tara frowned. She could sense the tension in him, and she knew instinctively that something was bothering the big man.

 

“What?” she said, eyebrows drawn down in puzzlement.

 

Brodie’s mouth was set in a grim line and his blue eyes were dark with worry.

 

“Later,” was all he would say.

 

By the time Katy had been lifted from the sofa and put to bed, drowsily murmuring about monsters and picnics, Brodie seemed a little calmer and less tense. But during supper he sat brooding, toying with his food, and Tara’s concern heightened. Finally she decided enough was enough.

 

“Are you going to tell me what the hell’s going on, or do I have to beat it out of you with a ladle?” she said, smiling slightly.

 

For a moment it seemed as though Brodie had not heard her as he continued to push his chili around the plate, but moments later he flung his fork to the table, shoved his plate away and grimaced.

 

“We got a problem, Tara. A big, big problem.”

 

Tara shivered at the grimness in his voice. Taking a deep breath she quietly put her own fork down and sat up straight.

 

“It’s Esposito, isn’t it?” she said.

 

Brodie didn’t answer immediately but ran his fingers through his short, curly hair, a gesture Tara knew he only did when he was stressed. He studied his neglected plate of food for a moment, thinking hard, then he lifted his gaze and studied the woman sitting opposite him at the small dining table.

 

Tara was watching him with dark eyes full of worry for him, he knew that, and once more thought of everything she had done for him these past months. He thought of her patience and forbearance as he had railed against the world for crippling him … for making him live when all he wanted was to die and get some peace after years of pain and guilt. He remembered her anger at his stubborn attempts to force his wounded body to do things it simply could not cope with, and her gentleness as he woke shaking with fear from the nightmares. He thought of her soft laughter as they struggled through the long days of his recovery, and her sharp humour that had lifted his spirits when nothing else could.

 

But what had he given her? Nothing. All right, he had a job and a home, but if Tara hadn’t straightened him out he would still be in that stinking little hovel in San Miguel and the job would never have materialised. He’d still be sitting there drowning his guilt in a bottle of tequila and staring at the wrong end of his old Browning auto. He owed her. He owed her everything, and the only reason she had stuck with him all this time was because she loved him. He gave his head a little shake as if to try and understand why she loved him, because he sure as hell couldn’t figure it out. He was a gimp, a dumb-ass and a bad-tempered old sonofabitch with shit for brains, but, by God, she loved him anyway, and if that wasn’t the craziest thing he’d every known then he didn’t know what was.

 

“Tara …” he began, but faltered. How was he going to deal with this?

 

Tara flinched. Brodie was scared, she realised. Not scared for himself … no, he was scared for her. And for Katy, whom she knew he adored. He had hauled himself out of the morass of self-pity he had wallowed in for ten years and made something of himself, and she smiled when she felt once more the surge of pride in her heart at his accomplishments. But this was the first time that he wasn’t just trying to protect himself from danger – he had somebody to care for …. someone to love and nurture and protect with everything he had.

 

“Tara … Esposito’s going to come after Katy, and I don’t know if I can stop him.” He let the words come out in a rush.

 

Tara Matthews paled.

 

“How do you know?” she asked, her voice subdued.

 

Brodie pushed back his chair and levered himself to his feet, stick in hand, and began pacing the floor in the spartan kitchen.

 

“Remember that fella you caught a glimpse of at the market a while back? The one I told you about?”

 

Tara nodded.

 

“You said you thought he was watching us … but you said you couldn’t be sure!” she said, trying to reassure herself.

 

Brodie stopped and fixed her with a steady gaze.

 

“Well I sure as hell am now.” He let the words sink in for a moment, then continued. “The man’s name was Artie Lindstrom, a private dick from Forth Worth.”

 

“A detective?? What on earth would a det – hold on a minute. You said ‘was’ a private detective … was.” Tara swallowed in fear. “He … he’s dead, isn’t he.” It was more of a statement than a question.

 

Brodie nodded reluctantly.

 

“As a doornail. Before the Feds had the chance to talk to him.”

 

Tara was shaken by the news. She had thought the man Brodie had told her about had just been an unwise but friendly tourist who had managed to rile Brodie on a quiet day out, but now she realised she was wrong and Brodie had been right all along. What she had taken for slight paranoia on Brodie’s part had turned out to be chillingly real.

 

“But how do you know he had something to do with Esposito? I mean, he could be - ”

 

“He had a piece of paper in his pocket with my name on it, Tara,” he cut in.

 

Tara blanched.

 

“Oh God … what do we do???” She caught his worried gaze with a fear-ridden one of her own.

 

Brodie shook his head slowly, as though trying to get some kind of order into his mind.

 

“Rick … you know, the guy from the D.E.A. – said there was very little he could do. Although he has contacts and some influence with the Mexican government, they’re powerless to do anything because Esposito hasn’t committed any crime here in Mexico. Well, nothing he can be pinned down with. They’re as frustrated as hell, but there’s absolutely nothing they can do other than keep an eye out and hope for the best. I’ll put you two on a plane tomorrow and send you back to the States where Rick can put you into protective custody  - ”

 

“No. No, Frank. We’re staying put.” Tara said, her jaw setting stubbornly as what she had to do became obvious.

 

“Now just wait a minute - ”Brodie began, his voice hard with anger.

 

“Frank, we’re staying. And I’m not going to argue with you on this one. Katy and me … well, we’re probably safer here than anywhere else.” Tara straightened in her chair, her stance determined now.

 

Brodie was nonplussed.

 

“Just how the hell do you figure that out? I can’t protect you here, Tara – this place ain’t safe any more for you or Katy. Esposito knows you’re here! Dammit, woman …” His voice tailed away and Tara heard the break in it.

 

She stood up and put her arms around him, holding him close, and she felt the stiffness in his body, the tension making the muscles in his jaw jump. She kissed him gently and smiled, the decision made as far as she was concerned. All she had to do was convince Brodie.

 

“Listen to me, you idiot – we couldn’t be anywhere safer. We’re on an island with one of the best security systems in the world, surrounded by trained security staff that have been through some tough shit, as you would say. If Esposito wants to come get Katy, then he’s going to have to get through us first – and I bet if you tell the team what’s going on, they’ll back you to the hilt. You know how much they think of Katy … and I also know how much they think of you. They’ll be behind you all the way, and you know it.” She hugged him. “Besides, just think what another move would do to Katy. She’s happy here, Frank. She has family here, and not just you and me. She has Joe, and Irwin … Nasir’s been helping her with a project on Afghanistan and you know how Logan’s been driving us nuts yammering on about getting a pony for her. These people are her family now. She belongs to all of us.”

 

Brodie was torn, she could tell. She felt the tension ease a little as his arms tightened around her, but she knew he was still having some doubts.

 

“What about Cunningham? How the hell do you think he’s gonna take having some mad drug-baron eyein’ up his pride and joy? He’s never gonna go for it Tara, you know that!”

 

“So ask him!” she said. “”All he can say is ‘no’, in which case we take Rick up on his offer and hi-tail it to the States. But somehow I don’t think he’s going to say ‘no’, do you?” Tara’s eyebrows raised quizzically.

 

Brodie took a deep breath and let it out shakily. Perhaps Tara was right. Hell, maybe Esposito wouldn’t even want to tackle the formidable presence of San Miguel’s state-of-the-art security system and its equally formidable security team. Maybe he was panicking about nothing. Maybe …

 

He sighed and hugged Tara back, crushing her against his chest as though she would disappear in a puff of smoke if he didn’t.

 

“Okay, okay. I’ll speak to him in the morning, all right? And I’ll give Rick a phone afterwards and tell him what’s going on – he’ll have to be kept up-to-date on everything we decide anyway.”

 

Tara snuggled against the breadth of his chest and closed her eyes, delighting in Brodie’s faint masculine scent and the feel of him wrapped around her.

 

“Sounds good to me, babe.” Lifting her head she smiled up at him. “Now, come on – finish your supper, Frank Brodie, because afterwards I’m going to take you to bed. I have plans for you, big fella …”

 

But even as he returned Tara’s suggestive smile and felt his loins stir in anticipation, Brodie couldn’t completely dispel the fear in his heart. He knew. He knew as sure as hell that one day Sonny Esposito was going to come to San Miguel island and try and take Katy away from them.

 

*************

 

Charles Cunningham sat in his wheelchair in the bright sunshine, pondering everything Frank Brodie had told him over breakfast.

 

He had been staying on the island for a few days, taking over one of the now finished guest villas. He loved being here on the island. He loved the quiet, and he loved the chance to sit here by the pool and look out over the island, listening to the calls of the birds in the trees and the soft, coughing roars of the small pride of Asian lions that had arrived a few days previously. From here on the hill he could see the King Cheetah enclosure, and he had his binoculars beside him so he could keep an eye on his precious big cats. Rarely in his life had he felt so content.

 

But Brodie had come to see him this morning, and Cunningham sat silently and listened as Brodie told him in his usual, spartan fashion about Sonny Esposito, his link to Katy and the death of one Artie Lindstrom, a Forth Worth private eye.

 

“ … and if you think we should go back to the States then just say the word,” Brodie was saying. “You’ve been pretty fair to me so far, Cunningham, so all I can do is let you know just what the hell is going on.” Brodie finished and sat back in his chair, blue eyes studying Cunningham steadily.

 

Charles Cunningham said nothing, but reached around and lifting his binoculars peered through them at the King Cheetahs in their enclosure. He smiled to himself then turned his black, intelligent eyes back to his security chief.

 

“My wife, Brodie, was a beautiful woman. Did I ever tell you that?”

 

Brodie raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Where the hell Cunningham was going with this he had no idea, but he kept his comments to himself and waited. Cunningham put down the binoculars and took a sip of his coffee, then set the cup back on the saucer and smiled again, wistfully.

 

“We married when I was twenty-one and she was just turned seventeen, and I loved from the very first moment I saw her. She was a waitress in her papa’s little restaurant, and she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, and as far as I’m concerned she will always be. I was a young punk then, but she loved me anyway – I was eager to do well, my uncle was the local capo … he was well on his way to becoming capo di capo tuti and I was his arrogant, pain-in-the-ass nephew that knew he could do no wrong. But when I met Emilia … hell, Brodie, it was like being hit by a two-by-four. She was tough as nails too, for all the size of her. A little firebrand she was, took no crap and gave me hell if I put a foot out of line. But she loved me, and we wanted kids right away … you know the thing, carrying on the family line and all that.

 

“But it took us ten years, and we were almost sure we’d never have kids when Emilia became pregnant with Kelsey. I went to my uncle and told him I wanted out. He understood, Brodie. I’d been kinda lacking in drive for the family ‘business’ for a while, and me being family he let me go. I changed my name, went into business and stayed straight. Kept my nose clean and became a family man. Emilia had Kelsey and we were a family for five years, Brodie … until someone in my uncle’s ‘firm’ decided to dispose not only of my uncle but his family too. I’d come home from work early, and Emilia and I decided to go and pick up Kelsey from kindergarten. Emilia decided to drive because I was so bushed, and I got out of the car to go get something from the house I’d forgotten – I still can’t remember what it was … isn’t that strange? Anyway, Emilia turned the key in the ignition just as I locked the door of the house. Blew her to Kingdom Come and crippled me.”

 

Brodie sat riven with shock.

 

Cunningham continued, his voice softer now.

 

“When I got all healed up I carried on with my business, and raised my daughter myself. I had no help other than a nurse, Brodie – when my daughter wasn’t in school, she was with me, and it was only Kelsey needing me that kept me going for a long time. But she’s grown up just fine. She’s tough, like her mother, and she’ll make a fine businesswoman, I’ll tell you now. And I’m as proud as hell of her, because she’s grown up with no taint of corruption. She’s a helluva young woman.”

 

The two men sat quietly for a few minutes, one trying to understand how the hell a man survived such loss and kept going, the other lost in memories of happier times. Cunningham finally blinked back tears and studied the big man sitting opposite him.

 

“I understand family, Frank. Both the good and bad things about it, and I understand what you’re saying to me. You don’t want to put any more people at risk than those already involved.”

 

Brodie nodded slowly.

 

“So, you think I should send Tara and Katy to the States?”

 

Cunningham shook his head.

 

“No Frank, that’s precisely not what I’m saying. Tara and Katy stay here, on the island. Here they’re safe – Tara’s absolutely right.”

 

Now Brodie was confused.

 

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

 

Such kindness astounded him. Cunningham was a hard-nosed businessman, well-known for his ruthlessness.

 

Cunningham grinned, his black eyes alive with amusement and what Brodie thought was a little defiance.

 

“I owe you, Brodie. You saved my daughter’s life very nearly at the cost of your own, and that counts for a lot with me.”

 

Brodie leaned forward in his chair.

 

“But the job … the house …”

 

“Are worth shit, and you know it. Listen man, family means everything to me, you should have figured that out by now, surely. Besides,” he added, “I don’t like the idea of a crazy sonofabitch like Esposito getting away with hurting anybody, let alone people I employ. It’s bad for business.” There was a twinkle in his eye. “Katy’s safer here, Frank. Live with it.”

 

“But - ”

 

“No ‘buts’. She stays. That’s what you want anyway, isn’t it? She’s your baby girl, Brodie – you wouldn’t be happy unless you were there to protect her, and I know that the D.E.A. would put them into protective custody but I bet my last dime Esposito would find a way to get at ‘em. I know bastards like him. I was raised with ‘em. She’ll get all the protection she needs right here … plus, my friend, she’ll be with you. Just like Kelsey was with me. Still is, come to think of it. She’ll make you proud, Brodie, I guarantee it.”

 

Frank Brodie didn’t know what to say, but he knew he had to say something.

 

“I … aw hell. This is just goddamn crazy, the whole thing.” He eased himself to his feet and lifted his stick, hefting it in his hand as though the cool brass of the leopard handle was chilling his grip. Turning to go, he hesitated for a moment and looked down at Cunningham, the man sitting in his wheelchair as though it was part of him. “Cunningham, I … jeez, this is so damn hard …” Brodie stuck out a big hand.

 

Cunningham took it, feeling the strong grip and the firmness in the handshake. Brodie’s blue eyes were steady.

 

“I owe you on this one, Cunningham. Thanks.”

 

“Anytime, Frank.” And Cunningham watched as Brodie limped to the doorway leading to the interior of the house. Big, silent Tony Cologna was waiting to show Brodie out, but as Brodie was about to disappear into the house, Cunningham called out.

 

“Hey! There is something you can do for me.”

 

Brodie stopped and turned around, his eyes alive with humour.

 

“Yeah? And what would that be? You want somebody whacked?”

 

Cunningham grinned.

 

“Nothing so violent.” He gestured at Brodie’s swordstick. “You can sell me that stick.”

 

Brodie snorted and grinned in amusement.

 

“Sure, Cunningham. That’ll be the day.”

 

And then he was gone, Tony Cologna shutting the door behind him.

 

Charles Cunningham sat back in his chair and thought for a while, then reached for the cell phone on the table beside him. He punched in a number and waited for a few moments.

 

“Hey, George! How are you? Keeping well? Good, good. Listen … I need some information. No, no, nothing that’ll get you in hot water. It’s completely above board … it’s about a shithead called Jesús ‘Sonny’ Esposito. Yeah, that shithead. I need to know all you can find out about him … what he’s been up to, and see if you can find out where he is right now. Oh, and keep this under your hat. This is between you and me right now, until I say so.” He listened for a few moments, then smiled. “Yeah, okay. Now, you get back to me when you can. And George - say Hi to Mira and the kids for me will you?”

 

Ringing off, he put the phone back on the table and pondered for a few moments. Then, satisfied with his decision, he tucked into his fruit salad with relish.

 

*****************

 

Telling the team about his problem proved to be a whole lot easier than Brodie had anticipated.

 

Brodie shook his head and looked around the big table here in the main office of the administration block at the concerned faces of his team. There were rumblings of anger and dismay as he explained about Sonny Esposito and his involvement with Katy, and all of them decided on the spot that the safest place for Katy Matthews was here on the island with them.

 

Within minutes the whole thing was taken out of Brodie’s hands as his team organised a rota whereby Katy was never left alone – she always had someone with her, preferably armed, and Brodie sat open-mouthed as Irwin Trubshaw, the man entrusted with Katy’s daytime care during school hours, turned to the big ex-soldier and casually demanded a sidearm.

 

“A Browning would be acceptable, Mr Brodie, although I would prefer a Webley if there is one available. It’s what I’m used to.”

 

Brodie for once was at a loss for words.

 

“A … a Webley? Jeez, Irwin! Where the hell did you learn to use a gun?”

 

Irwin Trubshaw smiled smugly.

 

“I wish I could say it was scout training, but no … I was in the T.A. for six years. A sapper … Royal Engineers to you colonials. Oh, and I’m fairly handy with my fists if need be. Born and raised in Hulme, Manchester. Makes your Lower East Side look like a play park, especially when you have a name like mine.”

 

Brodie looked at Irwin’s calm gaze and shook his head in wonderment, then nodded in agreement.

 

“All right – Pieter, can you find a Webley for Irwin?”

 

Pieter van Guelder grinned.

 

“Oh, I think so!” His smile faded a little as he continued. “I reckon you’ll need a shoulder holster, my friend.” He turned to Brodie. “ I take it you don’t want Katy to know what’s going on, Chief?”

 

“You got it in one. Katy is not to know anything about this, people – she’s had enough on her plate without this, okay? So … we’re all set, agreed?” He took a deep breath as he saw the seriousness with which his compatriots were treating this threat to little Katy Matthews. “I ah … I’ve gotta say this, but I’m only gonna say it once, y’hear?” His voice was stern.

 

They all looked at him expectantly.

 

Brodie swallowed nervously.

 

Oh, what the hell … just say it, you wuss!

 

“Thank you. For everything.”

 

He sat still, distinctly uncomfortable with the idea of showing his feelings in public, and he became almost fidgety as he saw the smirks on several of his team’s faces. Jesus, they were never, ever gonna let him forget this! He straightened in his chair and tried to recover his composure a little.

 

“Yeah … well … we got other things to discuss, children, so let’s get on with it, okay? We’ll just keep our eyes peeled, double-check our security systems and make sure Katy has someone with her at all times. I just hope that’ll be enough.” He took a deep breath and continued. “Right. So, we got ourselves a baboon to catch. That’ll give us an excuse to keep Katy close, I don’t want her anywhere near that thing. Zelle? Pieter? Everything set?” He looked expectantly at his second-in-command.

 

Pieter nodded and set out his plan.

 

“We’ll try a baited trap first, and if that doesn’t work we’ll have to try and drive him out and dart him. Robin and Lopez found one of the old cages Doc Matthews used all those years ago and fixed it up – Robin’s welded reinforced bars on the sides and roof, so it’s pretty strong. We’ll haul it up to the place where we last saw the bugger and bait it up. Lopez has put an electronic release mechanism on the trapdoor – baboon goes in, munchy-munchy, Logan presses button, trapdoor goes BOOM, and one pissed-off baboon trapped like a kiddie stealing cotton candy.”

 

Brodie looked at Zelle.

 

“And if this little escapade don’t work? What then? I don’t want some shit-angry baboon rampaging around the place, Zelle – we got enough problems as it is.”

 

Zelle reached down beside her chair and lifted the dart-gun, placing it carefully on the big table.

 

“This. But I’ll tell you now Brodie, I don’t want to dart him if I can help it. He’s old, and probably doesn’t need the strain on his heart. He’s thin too, and I’m worried about gauging the right amount of this stuff for his body weight. Too little, he’s going to wake up and maul somebody, too much … well, it’ll kill the poor old bastard, I’m sure. I’m hoping the trap will do the trick.”

 

Brodie had to agree with her, although he really couldn’t bring himself to care if the baboon lived or not. He was highly suspicious of the whole business, and he thought having one of these genetically-modified critters about the place – confined in a cage or not – was downright goddamn crazy.

 

He turned the plan over in his mind for a while, then made his decision. He needed something to take his mind off Sonny Esposito and the threat he proffered. Placing his hand flat on the table he studied it for a moment, then spoke.

 

“All right people. Let’s go. We got us a baboon to catch.”

 

And as one they rose, grim determination on set faces, as they headed off out of the administration block and into the warming sun of a bright, autumn morning.

 

Today, come hell or high water, they were going to catch themselves an old, toothless baboon who just so happened to be the last of his kind.

 

******************

 

 

To Chapter 24

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