Dancing with Mr. Blakemore Page 5

  “This may well be a similar arrangement,” Saxton told both Kevin and Odessa, “stay sharp, we know he is going to make a move.” Kevin’s eyes darted back and forth amongst the crowds of people, and he looked as if he had not slept. Saxton pointed out the children on the beach.

  It was a beautiful beach, with families packing up for the evening and prepping to go home. Although it was somewhat hidden, it was indeed a nice park with outdoor showers. Kevin was the first out of the car and he walked over to the water and peered in, “Hey, you can see all the way to the bottom.”

  Saxton was almost envious of the youthful naiveté of Kevin, who had not seen so much ugliness. The simple ability of being able to appreciate the beauty of the clarity of the Caribbean waters was a restatement that there was still good in the world. Unfortunately, none was to be found that night.

  They entered the side of the building that was hidden behind purposefully planted shrubbery, trees, and artificial foliage to shield the mid-sized building. Odessa used her bag that she always carried to shield her .22, her favorite knife, and her candy apple red lip gloss. The lip gloss, which added a perfect red tint to her lips, also housed a mini camera that she used to take photos.

  The back side of the building held a boat ramp and the gentle waves could be heard lapping against the side of the brick walls. Large rocks bordered the left side of the building while on the right, overlooking the small bay, was a commercial hotel. It was confusing how this could be a holding spot. The closest building was the Prison of San Jorge.

  “We need to mark this somehow. Odessa, what do you have in that bag?” asked Saxon. Odessa fumbled through the bag, realizing the only things at her fingertips were shipping stickers for the company. “Peel and stick one on the side of door there,” he told her before they climbed back into the car and drove on for about forty five minutes, coming up on the Cementerio De Santa Maria Mgdalena De Pazzis.

  Kevin looked about, confused, “How did we go from the beach to a cemetery?”

  It was getting dark and Saxton was getting uneasy. His senses were tingling, signaling that something was about to happen. He looked over his shoulder at Kevin, who was feeling it too. He went back to the car, reached under the seat, and took out his spare 9mm, checking the safety and handing it to the kid, “Just in case okay? Stay close and follow our lead. Same rules apply here as well.”

  Kevin nodded and followed along. Underneath the burial site was a passage. Odessa peeled a sticker and stuck it outside the door before they entered. The dark passage, lit only intermittently with dimly burning lights, led under the graveyard to the Felipe del Morro Fort. The first scent that hit them, Odessa again knew it well. She had experienced it in the barn at Rentería’s Villa. It was the smell of many unwashed women.

  “What the hell is that smell?” Kevin asked emphasizing the “that” as he turned to go back to the car. Saxton turned him back to face frontward.

  “That little brother is the smell of a lot of women who have not bathed in a while,” Odessa told him as she stopped following the two men who were being led in by Mateo. She did not want her brother to see this. With a nod to Saxton, they both turned around and headed back out the way they came.

  Mateo was yelling after them to come back. It was a trap and they were not buying into it. Before Mateo was able to catch up to them, the Blakemores were loaded into the car and pulling away. Saxton looked Mateo in the eyes, warning him there would be no victory for either tonight, as he pulled away from the cemetery and headed back toward the hotel.

  “Why didn’t we go in?” Kevin wanted to know.

  Saxton answered calmly, “Because if we had, he was going to kill us.”

  In the front seat, Odessa was quiet, her fist balled up, and she slowly opened her hand. “We don’t need him as a guide.” In her hand, she held a balled up piece of paper that had been dropped by the guy in front of her. “This piece of paper shows where every holding spot is for Mateo’s operation.”

  Kevin leaned forward in the back seat, his head stuck between the two of them, “So what are we going to do with that?”

  Both Saxton and Odessa were smiling, but it was Odessa who answered, “We are going to screw up somebody’s nasty little business. We will hit them before they can hit us.”

  At 7:15 pm, a group of dazed, confused, and dirty women appeared outside the Hospital Auxilio Mutuol in San Juan. The same thing happened at 10:30 at Hospital Del Maestro with a small contingent of Asian women who spoke no English. There was breaking news all over the island as the weary Blakemores headed back to their hotel room. In two more days, the family would arrive, the wedding would take place, and they would board the ship. Two more days.

  “Kevin, don’t open the door for anyone, okay? Put the chair against the back of it and stay inside. We’ll come and get you in the morning,” Odessa told a sleepy Kevin, who agreed and headed inside his room for the night.

  At a quarter after one, a light tap came at his door. The most amazing, sexy woman that Kevin had ever seen stood outside in a sheer blouse, attached to two of the most perfect breasts he had ever gazed upon in his young life. She stepped back to give him full view and the rest of the outfit was sheer as well. He knew what Saxton had told him about not opening the door, but his penis disagreed. The Latina goddess must have been lost and ended up at the wrong door. Kevin did not heed his brother-in-law’s warning and moved the chair to offer the enchanting woman assistance. That was all he remembered.

  A note was slipped under the door of the sleeping Blakemores.

  Kevin Jr. had been taken.

  Chapter Ten - The Warehouse from Hell

  Odessa Blakemore opened her suitcase of weapons and pulled out three guns, a knife, repelling cord, and a bow and arrow. The look of sheer determination on her face was cute as she dressed in black Lycra pants and a black hoodie and marked a dark camo line under each eye. Saxton wasn’t sure if she was planning a rescue mission or to give pointers to a quarterback.

  “This is a large country, and we don’t have a lot of time. We need to start where we think Mateo may be holding him and then branch out. God forbid if he was taken into any of the rain forests on the island,” she told Saxton as she added more rounds to the spare clips of the 9mm’s.

  “Calm down, Odessa,” he told her, reaching for her, but she snatched her arm away.

  “I will calm down when we get my brother back!”

  Saxton took his phone from his pocket, “I know where he is. Let’s go.”

  “How do you know? Mateo could have him anywhere,” she said, her usual calm and confidence leaving her.

  As they loaded into the car, he handed her his cell phone, “The red dot is your brother. They’re at the waterfront in a warehouse.”

  “How did you get this?”

  He pointed at himself, “Spy... remember? I tagged him with a tracker.”

  She squinted her face at him, “But, what if they take his watch?”

  “It’s not in his watch,” he said calmly as he maneuvered through traffic, driving as if they were going to the local market to buy fresh produce.

  “Where is it, his wallet, his shoe...”

  Saxton made a quick left, trying to find a more direct route to get to the signal, “I put it in his ass.”

  Odessa turned in the seat, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish gasping for air. Her lips squeezed together, forming a tight line, but no words came out. Finally, she was able to ask, “His wha...his...I mean....in his...I uhm....”

  Laughter rang through the compact car, “Stop being silly. I injected it into his right butt cheek.

  “Oh, okay....” As hard as she tried, the initial visual she had of a tracking device shoved up her brother’s keister was troubling. However, it was not as troubling as the realization that Saxton knew they were going to take Kevin, and he had prepared for it. It was a variable she had not calculated. She could only hope they got there before Mateo used her brother for sport.

  The
large building on the waterfront near the Port of San Juan served as a holding cell for untrained women. Unlike the others, this one was clearly marked Rentería Whole Goods. There were no guards outside and the black jeep was parked nearby. A non-descript building that was windowless, but brightly painted served as the perfect cover for a warehouse from hell. Even with the element of surprise on their side, it was still too easy to gain access into the building as a delivery truck arrived with fresh fruits, bottles of water, and what appeared to be racks of clothing. A bell rang, bringing forth the inside staff to unload the shipment of goods. Saxton and Odessa used this opportunity to slip in through an unmanned side door.

  The building was poorly lit and held two floors. The Blakemores kept to the shadows as a double bell rang and the side door in which they slipped inside was opened. In walked two men in Middle Eastern garb. A guard led them up the stairs, and in the dimness of the light, women had come from the upstairs rooms and were lined against the wall. The upstairs light was much brighter and the women varied in ages, heights, sizes and ethnicities. A blond woman screamed as the dark-skinned desert-dweller pulled her by the hair down the stairs.

  A room close to where Saxton and Odessa were hiding had been unlocked and the lights revealed something that looked like it had come from the Spanish Inquisition. There were racks, sex swings, and a few other items that raised an eyebrow on Saxton’s face. He whispered to his wife, “We need to know how many guards, how many women...”

  Odessa tucked low and worked her away under the glass, listening to the audible cries of the young blond woman. The sound of the whip against her skin made Odessa cringe, but she needed to stay on task. How many? She continued repeating silently until she made her way towards the stairs. It was an open-grated floor, so she was able to look upwards and count. There was one man patrolling the top floor. A second man patrolled the bottom, which held more specialty rooms for customers. Odessa felt sick to her stomach as she listened to the woman crying at the hands of the two Middle Eastern customers.

  On the other end of the building, Saxton made his way down a back corridor and came into contact with the sound of Mateo’s voice. Only one guard stood outside the door. Saxton poked his head out and waved at the guy, who was so stunned to see him there that he turned and followed Saxton down the hall. Not very smart. A solid sleeper-hold put the man down and Saxton made his way back to the room.

  Casually, he leaned against the doorjamb like he was eavesdropping to his mother tell her granddaughter a bedtime story, but today, he stood in the doorway, listening to Mateo describe all the ways he wanted to kill Kevin. To his credit, Kevin sat at the table, relaxed and paying attention as if he was hearing the Seahawks lay out their plan to win the Super Bowl.

  “Kevin, have you been listening to that bullshit all night?” Saxton asked calmly, causing Mateo to jump up and place the machete at Kevin’s throat.

  “Yeah, after the second description, I was amazed at how creative this dude could get on ways to kill someone.” Kevin’s eyes remained focused on Saxton even with the blade nestled so close to his jugular.

  “So you made it Saxto....” He looked over Saxton’s shoulder, “. . .where is the Seňora? I want her here to watch him die.” Mateo’s dark eyes twinkled as he stared at Saxton.

  It pissed Saxton off each time the bastard mispronounced his name, and he knew Mateo did it intentionally. “Honestly, Mateo, I was expecting something far more dastardly and devious. I was expecting a pit full of lethal snakes and him in the center in a glass cage or something.”

  Mateo looked down at Kevin. “Talk about a vivid imagination. Saxto, you should get out more.” He pressed the blade to Kevin’s skin, nicking it slightly and drawing a light stream of blood. “I am going to kill him slowly Saxto, so you can try to save him.”

  “Why would I try to save him? I don’t even like him,” Saxton said evenly, without emotion, and not a moment of hesitation.

  Kevin’s eyes got wide and Mateo pressed the blade in deeper. The next words Saxton spoke were delivered in the same even tone, “Just so you know Mateo, even when you do kill him, which would be a favor to me, I get to kill you. Which will make me smile.”

  The pressure of the machete against Kevin’s throat was let up, but Mateo wasn’t buying it, “You are saying, Saxto, you want me to kill him, no?”

  “That’s what I am saying,” he was still leaning against the door, “and I still get to kill you.” This he added with a very large smile.

  “What will you tell your precious wife about how her brother died at my hands, Saxto? Will she still think you are her big, bold, white savior? Or some pendejo that let her brother get killed?”

  Saxton inhaled and exhaled as if he had all the time in the world, “No, I will comfort her in our bed tonight when I hold her close and tell her I tried to save him, but I was too late, and in return, I simply had to,” he paused to drive home the point, “kill the fuck out of you.”

  Mateo threw his head back in a throaty laugh, “You make it sound so simple mi amigo. I am not so easy to kill.”

  “Really,” Saxton asked incredulously,” I can be over there in three moves with your machete in my hand and my knee on your neck.”

  As Mateo opened his mouth to laugh again, it happened so quickly that Kevin was still sitting there, blinking. Saxton had the machete in his hand, Mateo was on the ground, and Saxton’s knee was pressed into his throat. “Say good night, Mateo.” He pressed harder and the skin-peddling snake charmer’s eyes rolled up into his head and his body slumped.

  “Hand me that cord over there so I can tie him up and we can go find your sister,” he told Kevin, who had grown really quiet.

  Quick work was made out of tying up Mateo and dragging him outside. For good measure, Saxton punched him in the face twice, once in each eye. He smiled when he looked back at Kevin, who wasn’t pleased with his brother-in-law for punching an unconscious man.

  “Saxton,” he asked in a low voice, “you really don’t like me?”

  He shrugged his shoulders, “You’re growing on me, I guess.” He checked out Kevin’s neck, turning his head, holding the kid’s chin in his hand, trying to make sure he was okay. “Let’s go.”

  Odessa heard the footsteps and backed into the dark corner. It was hard to miss the figure of the man in the crisp white linen suit. He walked past her hiding place, suddenly stopping, not looking her way.

  “Seňora Blakemore,” he said with a heavy Mexican accent, “the lavender lotion you use stands out in the stench of this dark abyss of human suffering.”

  She stepped from the shadows to stand next to Victorio Rentería.

  Chapter Eleven - Dancing with the Pungi

  In life, there are moments and there are defining moments. The constant barrage of harsh winds over time can bend a tree to its will, changing both the growth pattern and shape of the tree. It can also happen to humans.

  As Odessa walked alongside the cartel leader, he held a white handkerchief over his nose and said, “These operations are repugnant to me.” He tapped on the window where the two Middle Eastern customers were located and touched his watch, indicating their time was up. He made a conscious effort to not look at the young blond woman in the room with them, but instead at Odessa. “You will see that these women get home, no?”

  She nodded her agreement as he offered her his arm and escorted her down the walkway of pleasure rooms. While they waited for Saxton to join them, he took a moment to share a bit more insight with her on his life, the family and business.

  Victorio’s uncle, Elizondo Rentería, was a man of deep cruelty, often taking what he wanted, whether by will or by force. Many women he abducted and kept for his pleasure, discarding them when he grew bored, only to go out and find others. “I will never forget the year he returned to my father’s villa with a dark haired beauty that he had stolen from Spring Break in San Diego,” Victorio told Odessa.

  By all accounts, Elizondo was a madman. Rentería explained that he
kept the woman in his favorite brothel, visiting her weekly and fathering several children with her. Mateo was the middle child. “My Uncle also had a wife and many children with her as well, but Mateo is his favorite.”

  As a boy, Mateo was just like him, with a cruel streak a mile wide and no respect for women. “Growing up in a whorehouse with women who would do anything to survive instilled in him that a woman can be made do whatever a man wants,” Rentería explained.

  “I do not like Mateo, and never have. More so, I hate this end of the business and want it shut down. I do not like my family’s name attached to such seediness.”

  Saxton entered the section of the building where they stood with Kevin, and the relief on Odessa’s face was worth the time Rentería had taken to speak with her. It was the first time he had ever seen any emotion register on her face.

  “Es tu hermano?” He asked her as Kevin took off running toward her but tripped and fell flat on his face.

  Saxton grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him to his feet, pointing to the wall where he wanted the kid to stand, silently telling Kevin, don’t move.

  “Seňor Rentería,” Saxton said as he exchanged greetings with the cartel leader, whose eyes were looking over Saxton’s shoulder.

  He ran his fingers over his thin mustache and down his goatee before asking Saxton, “Did you kill my cousin?”

  “Did you want me to?” Saxton asked without missing a beat. From the moment he saw Mateo as their liaison, he had that bad feeling.

  Before Rentería could answer, all eyes and attention turned to Kevin. Unable to follow Saxton’s instructions, he ventured into the love room the Middle Easterners had recently vacated. It was unclear if he did not understand the functionality of the sex swing, or he lived an alternative life, but somehow, he managed to end up face down in the contraption. As he tried to upright himself, his leg became entwined in the straps, leaving him upside down with his head inches from the sticky floor.