Witness Betrayed Page 7

  Her breathing was becoming more labored; she was getting excited. Not good. “Okay. They took a friend of mine. Her name’s Judith Locke. They’ve got her now and her two little girls. They won’t let her see her children. I’m trying to help her get away and find her kids.”

  “Who’s got them and why?”

  “Long story.”

  Her reticence was troubling. No innocent woman would be this unforthcoming. But Frank had sent her, and he trusted Frank implicitly.

  “Her father’s got them. Calvin Locke.”

  The name meant nothing to Novak.

  “He’s a terrible man, but he’s a judge in Galveston. He’s as crooked and corrupt as they come. So is Judith’s big brother. You’ve probably heard of him. Stephen Locke? Both of them are rich and powerful; they’re both as bad as they come.”

  Novak did recognize the second name. “Stephen Locke, the movie star?”

  “Yeah, man. He does that action franchise thing. You know, Vince Hayden, the vigilante character. But in real life? He’s mobbed up big-time with the judge’s guys in Galveston and some even worse gangsters in Houston. They all work together, laundering money, racketeering, running women, and all kinds of illegal stuff. Frank thinks the Hollywood crowd might be involved somehow, too.”

  “How?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out. The only sure thing is Judge Locke. He’s as dirty as river bottom mud, and his men were the ones who grabbed me at the airport. They spoke Spanish together, but I heard his name.”

  “And this judge is mobbed up, too? You’re certain about that?”

  “He might as well be, but he comes off totes legit because of his position. He’s corrupt as they come and has a handle on what goes on in Galveston. We think the guy in Houston furnishes most of the muscle. Frank can tell you more when he gets here. He is coming, right? You’re telling me the truth?”

  Well, the floodgates had certainly opened, and she was just pouring out information. But was it true? “He’s coming, all right. And this actor is actively involved in criminal activities? Can you prove that?”

  She nodded. She was absently rubbing her wounded arm now. “That’s right. He’s Judge Locke’s son and Judith’s brother, like I just said. Judith hates them both. We’ve been best friends since college, and I know all of them well.”

  “Why is the judge threatening her?”

  “He wants to control her. She thinks he had her husband murdered, so she told him she was taking her girls and leaving Texas. That’s when he used his judicial power to get custody of Susie and Sammi. I think Stephen reported Judith to child protective services. They’ve got other local judges and some of the Galveston cops on their payroll. It’s hard to get them on anything. After that, Judith never had a chance because of the kids.”

  “What part does Stephen Locke play in all this?”

  “We don’t know, just that he’s involved. He’s on location most of the time, so he’s not in Galveston much anymore, but he does show up at times. You’ve heard about him. He’s got this bad boy/woman killer reputation, and he likes to flaunt his fame.” She took a deep breath. She had been animated for the last few minutes, but now her burst of pep was eroding, exhausting her from all the talking. “He gropes women and threatens them or pays them off if they complain. Judith says he’s bragged about forcing sex on every actress in every movie he makes. But she’s nothing like them. She wants her kids out from under his influence before it’s too late. Her family’s too powerful for her to get out alone, and now they’ve got her somewhere under lock and key.”

  “From what I’ve heard about Stephen Locke, he’s a jerk.”

  “He’s an egotistical sexaholic. Hollywood’s full of those kinds of guys. Judith told me about them. I don’t know Stephen all that well. He’s a good bit older than Judith. I know I can’t stand him.”

  “How do you know they took the kids away from her?”

  “She called and begged me to come help her find them. Asked me to hack into her dad’s computer and see if I could find out where they were keeping them. I haven’t found them yet, but I think he’s got them in his mansion in Galveston. She’s collecting proof that he’s into illegal stuff.”

  “All this is going on in Galveston?”

  “And Houston. Stephen stays at his father’s estate when he’s in town, but he’s filming out in Arizona, Scottsdale, I think. We found out that his father and the mob boss over in Houston fund his movies. It’s one big criminal cartel. Get one of them, and they’ll all fall. That’s what Frank says. We just can’t prove everything yet.”

  “Okay, so Judith found out about their illegal activities and threatened to burn them to the authorities, that’s what you’re telling me, right? And now they’re holding her prisoner in her own house?”

  She nodded. “Her father loves her more than anything, or she’d probably already be dead. According to her, everybody who crosses him ends up dead. That’s why they came after me. They know I’m helping her.”

  “That’s a strange way to treat someone you love. So what exactly do you want me to do?”

  Lori looked uncomfortable. Novak knew he wasn’t going to like her answer. “She wants us to contact the FBI and set up witness protection for her and the kids. She says she’s got the goods on Stephen, enough to indict him, her father, and the other guy in Houston as well as the guy they work with out in Los Angeles.”

  Novak scoffed. “No wonder he’s got her under lock and key. Who’s the guy in L.A.?”

  “We found out his name is Mike Mickey. You’ve heard of him, right?”

  Novak had heard the name. Mike Mickey was in the news a lot. He was one of those handsome, charismatic producers, usually seen on Hollywood Happenings and other entertainment shows touting his next smash action film. Novak wasn’t into movies much, but he’d seen both Mike Mickey’s and Stephen Locke’s pictures on magazine covers at the supermarket. Both were Hollywood elites and powerful in the industry. Bringing them down would not be so easy. But it sure as the devil would be gratifying. Novak hated Hollywood types.

  “Mike Mickey’s a big name out there. You have proof he’s dirty? You better have the goods, if you’re going after him.”

  She laughed but with no trace of humor. “They’re all dirty out there, don’t kid yourself.”

  “It’s not going to be easy bringing these guys down. She better have concrete proof, or nobody in the FBI’s gonna touch it.”

  “Judith says she does, and I believe her. She’s been collecting evidence since her husband died and her father forced her to bring the kids back and live at his estate. We need to get her out of that house, because I think she’s still in there. I believe her. I believe everything she told me.”

  “What kind of evidence?”

  “Documents and tapes, I think. Whatever it is, she said it would hold up in court. They’re using her kids against her now, that’s the only reason she hasn’t come forward. When they found out I was snooping around, some of his cops stopped me and took me in for questioning. Then they issued a warrant on Frank after I went to him for help. Some jacked up charge. They want to know why I was looking for Judith.”

  “So they don’t know yet that Judith’s planning on going to the Feds?” Novak hesitated as she nodded, and then he said, “Did the guys at the warehouse make you tell them anything?”

  “No. I held on, but I wouldn’t have much longer.” She looked away from his concerned eyes. Novak didn’t push it.

  “Are you sure Judge Locke is on the take? Judith can prove it?”

  “He’s disgusting. He’s a genius at public relations, and his son has a huge fanbase. They both have a lot to lose if Judith turns them in. Locke considers Judith and his granddaughters as his personal possessions. He’s obsessed with them. He considers everything in his orbit as his possessions.”

  “There’
s no way she can get away from her father without working with the Feds?”

  “He’s got control of her children! Dude, you aren’t listening. He told her she’d never see them again if she tries to leave.” Now she was openly agitated in the telling of her tale of woe. Her next words came more reluctantly. “Calvin Locke’s been molesting Judith since she was eleven years old. He totally controlled her even when her husband was alive and after her kids were born. Judith’s afraid he’ll abuse them, too. She tried to leave once before. She was planning to pick up the kids at school and disappear, but Stephen found out somehow. She hasn’t been allowed to see them since.”

  “Tell me about the guy they’re associated with in Houston. Who is he? I know something about the mob down there.”

  “Hennessey is his name. Timothy Hennessey. He’s Irish and about as sadistic as they come, according to Judith and Frank.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “Everybody in south Houston is scared of him. His M.O.? He shows up at his victims’ houses, and when they answer the door, he throws acid in their faces to subdue them. Once they’re down on the ground, he beheads them with a machete, right in front of their family. That’s how he warns people not to cross him. Sometimes he goes after their family members, even little kids, just to make his point.”

  “He’s sadistic, all right. Worse than that. Is Judge Locke in Galveston now?”

  “That’s his turf. He’s got two places there; one’s a big estate in Houston, the other’s a beach house on Galveston Island. He’s got a big stake in the oil industry, too. Most of it’s inherited from his grandfather, who was a big oil baron. He’s got half the Galveston police officers on his payroll, we think.” She stopped and took a drink of the soda. She was really spilling her guts now. “They took me down to the station as soon as I showed up at the Locke estate demanding to see Judith. My military background spooked them, I think, so they let me go. I asked Frank for help, so that warrant that’s out on him is my fault. He kept coming at them, so they took Lucy and threatened to kill her. That’s when he gave me your name and sent me here to ask you to help us. They grabbed me at the airport just like I said.” She stopped, out of breath and shut her eyes. She looked like she was on her last legs now. Too much talking and too much excitement, plus the hydrocodone was kicking in.

  “They made a serious mistake when they took Lucy.”

  “Frank’s going crazy.”

  “I understand that.”

  Novak wasn’t sure she was telling him everything, but now he had the full picture. It was ugly, all right. Frank could fill in the blanks if she’d left anything out, but he didn’t think so. Lori Garner had shown some guts. He’d give her that, and it was a good thing she had. She needed his help, because not just one but two crime bosses were now probably gunning for her.

  “You got any whiskey, Novak? I need to feel no pain.”

  “Liquor and painkillers don’t mix.”

  “You’re not my daddy. I’m past that point.”

  She had earned herself a drink, no doubt about it. It wouldn’t kill her. He got up and opened the cabinet. He pulled out a bottle of Jameson and poured two short glasses, hers only a swallow or two. He slid it across the table to her. “Go ahead. You’ve earned it.”

  Lori picked up the glass. “Here’s to you and me and Frank bringing down those bastards.” She tilted her head, downed the booze in one swallow, and plunked the glass down on the table. Bravado, that’s exactly what it was. It wouldn’t last long, not with whiskey and painkillers.

  “Go back to bed before you collapse. I’ve gotta check out the weather maps out on the Gulf and chart a course to Galveston. That’s where we need to go, and we need to get out of here as soon as I can get the boat ready. A few days out at sea will help you get your strength back.”

  “I need to know what you’re going to do.”

  “I’m getting your friend’s children out of that house, and then I’m going to track down Lucy Caloroso and put down anybody who stands in my way. That okay with you?”

  For the first time, Lori smiled. She looked good.

  He watched her wobble off down the foyer and disappear into the makeshift bedroom and close the door. Okay, now she would pass out for a while. He wished Frank would get himself in gear. Despite all she’d told him, he had more questions, including a few about Lori Garner herself. He turned back to the laptop and pulled up a map of the Gulf of Mexico.

  Galveston was maybe a three-day sail if the weather held, but it didn’t look like it would. They should make it there, but they were going to face rain and maybe even some squalls. He’d chart the course, find protective anchorages in case they ran into any major storm fronts, and then he’d stock the boat in the morning. He needed to get both of them the hell out of Louisiana. He worked on voyage preparation for about an hour, and then he walked down the hall to check on the woman. She was asleep again, on her back this time, her arm resting on a pillow. He sat down on the recliner, levered it back, put the loaded Kimber in his lap, and shut his eyes.

  Sleep did not come easy. He kept thinking about what had happened and what was probably to come. Neither was good. The men after the woman could not know exactly where he was or that he had a sailboat, but they could probably guess where he was heading. That was common sense, not that men like them had much of that. Novak had put down two of their ranks himself. They would not let that affront pass. There would be big trouble waiting for Novak on the coast of south Texas, and Novak wasn’t sure how bad it was going to get. After lying awake and thinking of how best to handle the situation, he finally shut his eyes. It took him a long time to drift off.

  Chapter 5

  Novak woke up to the sound of tires crunching over the white shells lining his driveway. Snatching up his gun, he peered out the front shutters. Frank Caloroso was climbing out of his white rental car. Novak met him at the top of the veranda steps, glad he was there. Frank wanted to see Lori, so they peeked in. She hadn’t moved, so the two men set off together down the sloping back lawn to the banks of Bayou Bonne. They didn’t say much about what they were facing. There would be plenty of time to talk after they got Lori out of Louisiana.

  Frank had accompanied Novak on more than a few ocean voyages. He knew the drill for embarkation. The bayou moved slowly along, the muddy water sluggish but with swirling eddies and undercurrents. The sky was dark, threatening an impending storm, clouds pressed low against the horizon like piles of black thumbprints. There was no wind, no rain, no sun, just a dreary day to match everything else about what they were facing.

  The Sweet Sarah was battened down tight, ropes tied off securing her at berth. Novak set the gangplank and told Frank to top off the fuel tanks while he opened the boat and checked out the food and water provisions. The latter was hardly necessary. Novak always kept the boat fully stocked and ready to sail. That penchant had saved his life on a couple of tense occasions. His weather inquiries worried him a bit. He didn’t want to run into a violent electrical storm. It looked as if they’d miss the incoming rain once they headed west. The weather would be a little chilly with some predicted squalls, but there were no high winds in the forecast. The sail to Galveston looked routine, maybe three days at sea with a couple of nights at anchor. He already had chosen sheltered stops that he’d used before, and those evenings would give them time to sit down and work out some kind of plan, because they were going to need one.

  At any other time, Novak would choose to sail the Intercostal Waterway, but its heavy traffic of barges and pleasure craft meant a greater danger of being spotted. He had to be overly cautious on this crossing, even though he planned to head out to the open waters of the Gulf. He didn’t think the men he’d encountered in New Orleans had the smarts to figure out Novak’s mindset, but he couldn’t take that chance. It depended on who was calling the shots and how bad they wanted Frank and Lori dead and buried. It appeared they wan
ted that quite a bit, enough to keep trying. So he meant to stay alert and hold his weapon close.

  The voyage to Texas was no problem; he could make it blindfolded. He’d sailed there and back countless times, sometimes to visit Frank and Lucy. They were good to go, the only danger being land stops here and there to refuel. Novak liked to use the same ones each time, and most of those were not heavily trafficked. Right now, they were wasting valuable time. Lucy was Novak’s first and foremost priority. She was too young and too vulnerable and too alone, and he wanted her out of those men’s hands. He feared for her and what they were doing to her, just like her father did. Frank looked terrible, haggard and tense and unshaven, but all that was understandable.

  Within the hour, Novak was at the helm and steering the Sarah down the bayou toward the vast reaches of the Gulf of Mexico. Lori and Frank sat together under a blue awning and watched him maneuver the boat. About the time they reached open water, the sun eased out from under those inky clouds and sparkled a carpet of diamond chips across the sea. Novak’s spirits lifted considerably. The smell of salt air and sting of whipping wind and the feel of rough chop beneath his feet told him he’d been landlocked far too long. He stood at the wheel and lifted his face to the warm sun and let the cool wind caress his face. Such peace was not going to last long.

  Once far enough out to sea, he and Frank worked together, and it wasn’t long before the sails filled and billowed out with the familiar rush of air and flap of white canvas and jingling lines growing taut. The boat skimmed over the water, and Novak stayed at the controls while the other two rested. Later Frank joined him at the helm and spilled out his heartrending story. It wasn’t easy to listen to. The man was distraught over the capture of his daughter. He blamed himself, of course, as all fathers would.

  Novak listened and felt his pain and let him get the torment out of his system. Frank needed that burn of tears and tremble of voice and pain of heartbreak. This was the time to be emotional and let his weakness show. Later on, he had too much to lose to break down. After a tearful catharsis in the telling, Frank went down below to check on Lori. Novak manned the wheel and headed west. Not a single boat crossed his path along the way, except for the occasional glimpse of the giant cruise ships silhouetted on the southern horizon. Novak pushed hard under obliging gusts, hoping to get a good ten-hour sail before they dropped anchor. He knew the cove where he was headed well, had stopped there often on his travels. They would be safe there, out of sight, out of bad weather, and with little chance of trouble.