Angel of Death - Debt Collector 5 (A Jack Winchester Thriller) Read online

  “Mr. Gunnar, mentioned that you had hired a man by the name of Jack Winchester to find your daughter. Is that correct?”

  He looked hesitant to reply.

  “It’s okay. It’s very common for families to pay for a private detective to look into the whereabouts of a missing family member. We just like to avoid any further delays if the P.I. that you have hired has uncovered anything. He is a P.I., I gather?”

  His eyes shifted from side to side and she knew she had him at the brink of sharing.

  “Um. No luck actually so far. Yes. I did hire someone.”

  “I’m curious. What agency or business is Mr. Winchester from? Were you referred to him?”

  A waitress came over and handed him his coffee. “Thanks, Julia,” he replied. He took a sip and let out deep lungful of air.

  “I saw his ad online.”

  “A website?”

  He cleared his throat.

  “Sort of.”

  He didn’t seem to want to expand upon that.

  “Well, is there a contact number that he can be reached at? We would really like to compare notes and be brought up to speed on where he’s at in the investigation.”

  He sipped at his coffee and adjusted his suit.

  “That might be a little difficult right now as he’s out of the country.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “But you would know that, right? I mean I passed the information on to the bureau about where I believe she is.”

  He studied Isabel’s face and she could tell that he was becoming skeptical.

  “Of course. Though forgive me. I forget. Where was that?”

  “Peru.” He paused and got this serious look in his eye. “Agent Baker. You aren’t investigating my daughter’s disappearance, are you?”

  She sniffed and gulped down her coffee.

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because I never contacted the FBI.”

  Within a matter of seconds, she decided to come clean.

  “You got me there.”

  He scowled. “Are you even from the FBI?”

  She nodded. “Mr. Lefkofsky. I am currently interested in getting in contact with Jack Winchester. When did you last speak to him?”

  “Today.”

  Isabel could barely contain herself. After months of searching and having him slip through her fingers. All those months of having Thorpe shut down her requests to get back in the field and now she was closing in.

  “Where is he?”

  “I think I’d like to speak to your superior.”

  “He’s only going to ask you the same questions.”

  “I know. But it would give me peace of mind.”

  She clenched her jaw and balled a fist below the table. “Give me a second.”

  She got up and walked back towards the washroom. Inside she made a quick call to Cooper. When he answered he was telling someone some lame ass joke.

  “Cooper.”

  Still laughing, he replied. “Ah finally you came to your senses. Okay, what hotel are you in?”

  “I’m not calling to have you come out.”

  “Oh you really are a buzz killer, Baker.”

  “Cooper, I need you to take a call for me.”

  “Sure.”

  “As Thorpe.”

  “What?” he stammered.

  “I need you to… well...”

  “I’m not lying for you, Baker. I’m in enough trouble covering your ass over the Florida raid and your little meet-up with Bowman. Thorpe is all over me. Did you know he pulled me into the office yesterday wanting to know where you had gone on vacation?”

  “He did?”

  “Oh my god, Baker, you really need to get your head out of the clouds. This whole Winchester thing is going to cost you your job and probably mine as well.”

  “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was important.”

  He sighed on the other end of the line. “On one condition.”

  “I’m not sleeping with you.”

  He let out a laugh. “I wasn’t going to ask that. Though, that is a good idea.”

  “Cooper!”

  “All right. All right. No, you let me take you out for dinner. Just dinner.”

  Isabel rubbed the bridge of her nose feeling a tension headache coming on.

  “Fine. Just dinner. There won’t be any going back to my place after and… it doesn’t happen until I get back.”

  “Done!”

  He sounded elated.

  “Oh, and don’t go spouting about it around the office. The last thing I need is to have people talking.”

  “It will be our little secret. Now who do you need me to speak to?”

  Isabel kept him on hold while she returned to her seat. Patrick was in a conversation with someone on his phone. She waited patiently drinking her coffee wondering what it was going to be like to finally bring in the one that had eluded her twice. She had considered what Cooper had said about it becoming an obsession tracking him down but was that really a bad thing? Anyone who had ever achieved anything in this life had been consumed by the very thing they wished to obtain. Whether that was healthy or not was another thing entirely.

  “Sorry about that. Business call.”

  She handed her phone to him and told him that her superior, Simon Thorpe, was on the line. He cleared his throat, scratched the side of his nose and placed the phone against his ear, all the while looking at Isabel intently.

  Sipping on her coffee she listened in on the conversation. There was a lot of nodding and agreement, which was exactly what she was hoping for. When he hung up and handed the phone back she thought she had it in the bag.

  “All good?” she asked placing it in her bag.

  “How’s your vacation going, agent?”

  “Pardon?”

  “While you were in the bathroom I made a quick call to the bureau. They have confirmed that you are on vacation leave. You’re not even on field duty, is that correct?”

  “You are right.”

  “Then I think this concludes our conversation.”

  He went to get up and Isabel spoke. “It would be an awful shame to see the feds raid your importing business.”

  He turned and his nostrils flared. “Are you threating me?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. But I know the DEA would be very interested in learning how street drugs are making their way in through the docks.”

  He let out a nervous laugh. “You don’t have anything on me.”

  “No? I had a really interesting chat with James Gunnar. He says you don’t get on too well.”

  “Little bastard.”

  “Oh, I would reel in that temper of yours, Mr. Lefkofsky, and retake your seat. We’re not done. Not even close to being done.”

  He slipped back down looking despondent.

  “Now where were we?” Isabel asked.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When Sid Ramirez opened his eyes, Jack was sitting across from him smoking a cigarette. He tried to move but he couldn’t. His ankles and wrists were bound and his mouth was covered with a rag. His eyes immediately flared and he began mumbling something.

  “No amount of yelling is going to help.”

  Jack hadn’t dragged him far. He found a building nearby that wasn’t in use. He broke in of course and had to search around for something to tie him up with. It didn’t take long. The place looked as if it had been a factory at one time for packing fruit. Boxes lay all over the place, along with straw that had been used for filler. He had found a piece of ragged rope among the discarded belongings and had restrained him. He’d been out cold for forty minutes. With his head cocked to one side, Jack stepped forward and removed the gag from his mouth.

  “Piece of shit.”

  Jack chuckled. “You’re restrained and yet you’re still mouthy.”

  He tucked the rag back in and took a seat until he had finished his cigarette. Around him lay broken glass from where some kids must have broken in and unlea
shed their pent-up energy. A conveyor belt had been torn apart and defecated on. The smell of piss lingered in the air and needles from drug users lay scattered among the garbage that caked the concrete floor. Jack rolled around his head on his shoulders and then went back over to the man.

  “Tell me about yourself.”

  He pulled the rag down.

  “Fuck you.”

  “We can do this all day. I have all the time in the world. In fact, I’m actually enjoying the weather down here. I can see why you left the States.”

  “I left the States because the government sucks.”

  “Oh, have a beef with Uncle Sam, do you?”

  “Screw you, man.”

  “How long were you in the Marines?”

  The guy’s eyes met his for a brief moment before he looked away.

  “Have you spent all the money that Mr. Lefkofsky sent?”

  “I told you I don’t know about his daughter.”

  “You were scamming him. Right.” Jack breathed in deeply. “See, I want to believe you. I really do. I don’t like wasting my time and definitely don’t find pleasure in fighting but here’s the thing, Dave.”

  “Dave? My name’s Sid.”

  “Ah, finally we are getting somewhere.”

  “Why are you holding me if you know I was scamming him?”

  “My employer is paying me to check in on you and well, if he doesn’t hear it from you, he’s not going to believe me and I’m not going to get paid. And that’s never a good thing.”

  The man grimaced.

  “Actually I’m curious, Sid, how long have you been down here?”

  “Long enough.”

  “You work alone?”

  He exhaled hard. “Does it really fucking matter. I told you. I …”

  “… don’t know. Of course,” Jack finished what he was about to say. “Well then, you won’t mind telling my employer.”

  Jack brought his phone out and dialed the number for Patrick. He sat on a stack of crates studying Sid. He picked at his dirt-stained jeans and ran a hand through his hair.

  “Mr. Lefkofsky. I have your contact here. He says he doesn’t know where your daughter is and that he just fabricated a story in order to scam you out of money. I thought it best you heard it from him.”

  “Um, Jack.”

  Before he listened to what Patrick was about to say, he shifted over to Sid. “Now hold on, I’ll place him on the line.”

  Jack leaned forward and held the phone to the man’s ear.

  “Well go on. Tell him what you told me.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Jack dug his fingers into one of Sid’s wounds making him yell in agony. After which he became very compliant. After he spoke with Patrick, Jack retook his seat.

  “So there we go, sir. I’m afraid this has been a dead end.”

  There was no reply on the other end of the phone.

  “Mr. Lefkofsky?”

  “Hello Jack.”

  He snorted. “Agent Baker. Why am I not surprised to hear your voice? How are you?”

  “Good. I’ll be even better when I see you in cuffs and behind bars.”

  “Oh. Really? That’s the thanks I get after saving your life?”

  “Don’t think for a minute that changes anything. You are still a criminal. A cold-blooded killer.”

  “I’m pretty sure you killed a few men back in Louisiana too, agent, or can I call you Isabel?”

  “Agent Baker will suffice,” she replied.

  “Fine. So Isabel,” he said with a smile on his face as he got up and walked around the room. “I’m conducting a little bit of big boys’ business here. So if you don’t mind placing Mr. Lefkofsky back on the line and crawling back under whatever stone you crawled out from, that would be great.”

  “I have to say, Jack, that little escape you made back in Florida. That had all the marks of a Houdini trick but did you really think that I wouldn’t find you?”

  “Actually I was beginning to think you had given up. So let me guess, you found the leaflet?”

  There was silence on the other end and he chuckled. “Yeah, I was thinking of not leaving that there but I have to say, it’s been a bit lonely on the road without any company breathing down my neck. That last agent they sent was an amateur.”

  “Time to come in, Jack.”

  “Is it?”

  “I have to bring you in.”

  “Am I meant to believe that your superiors are still interested in me?”

  “Enough games.”

  “If you want me, put Mr. Lefkofsky back on the line. I’m not going anywhere.”

  He heard her breathing and knew she was contemplating the request. When Patrick came back on the line he asked him what he wanted to do.

  “Well, I think things have taken a drastic turn.”

  “Nothing changed. It’s a bump in the road. The note mentioned Cusco. We’ve ruled out your contact. There’s no guarantee I’m going to find her. But my offer still stands.”

  “You won’t find her,” Sid said.

  “Would you shut up?” Jack said placing his hand over the mouthpiece.

  “Do it,” Patrick said.

  “Okay. Now if you want to put the lovely Isabel back on the line.”

  There was a pause.

  “So are you coming in?”

  “I’m not.”

  “You said if I wanted you…”

  “That’s right. I’m not going anywhere. You know where I am. You want me. Come get me.”

  With that Jack ended the call and grinned. “Ah, you gotta love her determination.” He turned back to Sid and loosened his binds but not entirely, then he turned to leave.

  “Hey, where you going? What about me?”

  “You’re a strong guy, you should be able to get out.”

  “Don’t leave me here.”

  Glass crunched beneath Jack’s boots as he made his way over to a window frame that no longer held a pane.

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll help you find her.”

  “I think you’ve done enough.”

  With that said Jack exited the building.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Isabel was beyond furious. She clenched her jaw. The nerve of that man, she thought.

  “Get him back on the line.”

  Patrick tried calling the number but it just went to voice mail. Isabel left a long-winded message that made it clear that when she did bring him in, she was going to make sure that he was prosecuted to the full extent of the law. If that phone call hadn’t pissed her off, the next one did. It came from Simon Thorpe.

  She saw his name on the caller ID and initially let it go to voicemail but he persisted in calling. Hesitantly she answered, keeping the phone a distance away from her ear. She had a strong feeling that what was coming wasn’t going to be pleasant.

  “What the hell are you playing at?”

  “And how’s your day, Simon?” she replied.

  “Don’t be coy with me. You are meant to be on vacation not interrogating someone in Chicago!”

  “I’m visiting, I thought I would—”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Isabel.”

  That was the second time he had used her first name.

  “Now I want you to drop whatever it is you are looking into.”

  “It’s Winchester,” she just blurted it out. There was no point in trying to hide it, he would eventually find out and then he would be even more pissed off.

  “I told you…”

  “I was just on the phone with him.”

  Thorpe went quiet.

  “He’s in Peru, investigating the disappearance of a young woman.”

  “Investigating?” he started laughing. “A mobster?”

  “That’s not all. Seems he put an ad online advertising his services. Which would explain why he hasn’t shown up as having taken any job.”

  “Right, but he could have been taking money under the table.”

  “He’s
doing what he used to do but now trying to help people by the looks of it.”

  “I don’t care if he’s started a goddamn charity. You want to get to the point?’

  “I’m going after him.”

  “No you’re not.”

  “I’m not on the bureau’s time. You said it yourself. If I wanted to look into it, I could as long as it wasn’t while working. I’m officially on vacation.”

  She heard him sigh on the other end. He was probably doing that thing he did with his knuckles where he tapped them against his forehead as if he was trying to kick start his brain.

  “You know how much shit I’m going to have to deal with if this goes south or anyone finds out that you are looking into this?”

  “I think you can handle it. Are we good?”

  There was a pause. “Fine. But I want daily updates.”

  “Will do.”

  After getting off the phone her first order of business was booking a flight to Cusco, after that she returned to 420 Dispensary to get further details on what James had told Jack but may have left out of their previous conversation.

  Before she left Patrick she made it clear in no uncertain terms that if Jack contacted him at any point that he was to get in touch with her and let her know what he said.

  “If you leave even one small detail out, or attempt to circumvent what I am trying to do here, I swear, I will return to Chicago and next time it will be with a SWAT team.”

  She caught a red-eye flight out of Chicago. It would be a long fourteen-hour flight. She settled into first class with a book by a retired FBI agent on understanding the criminal mind. For all the research, study and years she had put into understanding criminals, she still felt as though she didn’t know anything. Especially when it came to Jack Winchester.

  Jack figured he was working against the clock. It didn’t help that he was in a strange country, he only knew a small amount of Spanish and he had little to go on. The reason he was able to do his job so well back in New York was because he knew the streets, he knew how people tried to hide or talk their way out of situations. But this was completely different.

  He phoned ahead to have the same taxi driver that had brought him to the hotel return him to the airport. There he purchased a one-way ticket on the next flight out to Cusco. It would take him just over an hour to get there. That would give him plenty of time to find a local hotel, get cleaned up and look for someone who knew their way around the city. All he had on him was a photo of Danielle and a smidgen of information about the group.