A Dangerous Man

Cummins looked embarrassed. "Clarke doesn't want the kid; it's his mother. She wants her grandson. As soon as 'Westphal' gets custody, he'll dump him off at his mom's to raise."

"And let her screw up a good kid? Raise him like she raised Jesse? You've got to be kidding me. Have you met the woman?"

"Can't say I have. Look, being assigned to WICSEC sometimes makes my skin crawl and sometimes makes me feel like I'm doing some good. There are people I protect who have done some real good, placing themselves in danger to put away the bad guys." Cummins paused here. "Then there are the assholes like Clarke, who made a deal to avoid prosecution."

"So, what do you want from me? Do you expect my client to sit back while his son - and I consider the boy to be Larry Parker's son - is taken away from him?"

Cummins lowered his voice and in a conspiratorial tone, answered Karin's question. "No; you're right, I did do my homework and I know enough about you to understand what I say next will stay between you and me.

"I've just delivered the message I was told to deliver. Now I'm going to tell you that as far as I'm concerned, Jesse Clarke, George Westphal can rot in hell. There are some powerful people in Bogota that are looking for Clarke, not only because he ratted out on them, but because he stole a significant amount of money while doing it."

Just as he finished the last sentence, Karin's flight was called. Cummins stood up. "Goodbye, Ms. Roland. Thanks for listening." He walked away without another word and before Karin could reply.

It was after nine when Karin's plane landed at Portland International. Karin was exhausted and thanked goodness that she had let Bill talk her into having him drive her to the airport three days ago and now would be at the curb to pick her up. She was walking out past the security gate when she spotted Bill with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Maybe because she was so tired, but her eyes misted a bit and a big smile pasted across her face. Bill wrapped his arms around his wife and gave her a squeeze. "Welcome home, babe."

Karin kissed Bill's lips as he released her to take her bag and hand her the flowers. "It's only been three days, Bill. What's got into you?"

"I don't know, it just seemed like a long three days. I knew you had a rough weekend and I wanted you to feel missed."

"You don't know the half of it. Wait until I tell you what happened at O'Hare." Karin had already told Bill about her theory that George Westphal was Jesse Clarke and that the stepbrother had raped his stepsister. Now she knew that was only a tip of the iceberg.

On the drive home, Karin filled Bill in on what she learned in Dayton and Chicago. Bill listened, then asked the sixty-four thousand dollar question. "So, what are you going to do with this information?"

"Don't know yet. The last thing I want to do is get in the middle of some bullshit between the Columbians, some DA and his snitch. Somebody is going to get hurt. I don't want it to be Parker, his son, or me."

When they pulled up to the house, Karin let out her breath, she hadn't realized until then how much she was holding it in. Walking through the door, Anthony greeted her with a hug of his own. Mom and son spent fifteen minutes catching up on Anthony's weekend, which included the latest news on the girl Anthony was dating.

After Karin showered and changed into comfortable loungewear, she went downstairs where Bill was sitting in the den, a glass of wine waiting for Karin. They talked about everything but the case; Bill knew Karin needed some down time or she would never be able to sleep. Within ten minutes, Bill had Karin in uncontrollable laughter while relating the latest antics of the young couple next door. It was like living next door to a TV sitcom, Tom Taylor had spent Saturday morning in his garage spray painting some outdoor furniture before Amy Taylor noticed the paint was going all over the side of their Mercedes.

"Amy's new SL?"

"Yep"

"What'd she do?"

"I was out front digging up that bush you wanted out when I heard her screaming. I walked over in time to see Amy pick up the can and spray Tom's shirt. I was just about ready to step in when Tom tore his shirt off, grabbed Amy, and carried her into the house while shouting he'd get her car repainted."

Karin laughed harder. "Damn, those two are the horniest couple in the world; everything sets them off."

"Yea, but they've only been married a year. Wait until they have kids."

"It didn't stop you from being a horndog, Mr. Roland."

"That's because I'm married to you."

Karin stood up, hopped on her good leg over to Bill and plopped down into his lap. They were in the middle of a kiss when Anthony walked in to say goodnight.

"Again, you two? Do me a favor and keep it down, would you please?"

Bill answered, "No promises!" He picked up his wife and carried her up the stairs. It was a good night.

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

One thousand miles south of Portland, as Bill met Karin at the airport terminal, Jesse Clarke was hanging up the phone after listening for the last half hour to his mother cry while berating him for all the lost years she never knew her grandson. When she wasn't crying, she was screaming at him to do everything he could to make certain the boy was placed in her custody.

"Ma, I'm trying. But you know I have to be careful, there are still guys searching for Jesse Clarke, I'm already bending the rules of my agreement with the Feds by trying to get custody as Westphal. If people get the connection, I'm dead meat."

"Well, this detective must have made some connection Jesse, why else did she show up here?"

"We don't know that yet Ma." But, as the words left his lips, Jesse knew this Roland dame must suspect, if not know. Time to make a contact with Roland.

Jesse immediately looked up Karin Roland on the Internet. Unfortunately, the same Internet that made it simple for Karin to advertise her new agency, made it just as simple for Jesse Clarke to know where her agency was located. And for Clarke to book a flight to Portland first thing Monday morning.

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

Karin got up the next morning and headed down to her office; Larry Parker was scheduled to meet with her during his lunch hour to get a status report. Although the information could have been passed on a phone call, Karin felt a face to face was a better option, especially given the information and how the billables were piling up.

Karin saw Randall across the street as she opened the front door; he was standing in front of the grocery store with a hat in his hand quietly asking for hand-outs from the people passing by. Randall saw Karin and waved a greeting. Neither paid much attention to the large man standing two doors down the street.

It didn't take long for another tenant to show up. Jesse piggy-backed into the building, explaining he had an appointment with the detective on the second floor. Jesse took the stairs to the second floor and was pleased to see the door to Roland Investigations was open. He walked in to find Karin sitting at her desk, reviewing some files.

Intimidation was Jesse Clarke's specialty.

He stood in front of her desk and puffed out his chest, making himself look big. "I want you to stop hassling my mother, stay the fuck out of my business and tell Larry Parker you're no longer on his case!" Jesse was pointing his finger at Karin while making his threats.

It's easy for a big guy like Clarke, a guy who was used to pushing women around, to underestimate a woman like Karin. Five-seven, one hundred thirty pounds, she wasn't physically intimidating. The fact she was highly trained in the martial arts and an expert marksman was not apparent by looking at the pretty woman.

It happened so fast; Clarke didn't have time to blink. Karin pulled that finger back towards his arm, without breaking it, while pulling the gun from under the desk and pointing it at his face.

"Get the hell out of my office."

Clarke couldn't believe his eyes; his mind reeled, "This skinny bitch is ordering me around." he thought to himself. "No woman orders Jesse Clarke! Who the hell does she think she's dealing with?" He backed out of the office as Karin kept the gun pointed at him.

Clarke spoke out loud. "You'll be sorry, Roland." To himself, he added, "You don't know how sorry, bitch!"

Jesse Clarke swore he'd never underestimate that woman again. He wouldn't take any chances next time they met. And he swore there would be a next time.

Karin took a minute to get her breathing back to normal, got up and locked the door. She pulled the business card out of her wallet and made a call. Fred Cummins answered his phone.

"Cummins, this is Karin Roland. Your boy just came into my office and threatened me. All bets are off. You might want to let him know that. Maybe he'll be smart enough to get the message." She hung up before the Marshall had a chance to reply. If he would have said anything, it would have been, "I doubt it." Jesse Clarke was a pain in the ass and deep down, Cummins hoped George Westphal would just disappear.

Karin had made up her mind and her next call was to Hank Price. She spent twenty minutes reviewing everything she had learned to this point, including how Clarke might be a threat.

"I know you have contacts at the DEA; think you can get a contact with the Columbians who I can meet with?"

Normally Hank would try and calm Karin down, but this was different. Nobody threatens the mother of his daughter and the wife of his best friend. "I'll get back to you. In the meantime, be careful." Hank hung up.

Hank made the contacts and the arrangements. That night Karin told Bill she would be traveling to New York and why. It was late, one a.m. in New York when Bill called Hank's number; Hank picked up on the first ring.

"Yea?"

"Hank, it's Bill. Karin just told me what you two have planned. Will she be safe?"

"I'll do everything I can to assure it."

"I can't lose her, Hank. Is it really necessary for her to be there?"

"You know her; you married her." Hank chuckled. "She thinks she needs to be there; if for no other reason than to have my back."

"I get it. I wouldn't let her do it with anyone else, you know."

"I know and that's why I won't let anything happen."

"Thanks Hank; goodnight."

"Goodnight Bill." They both hung up.

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

Four days later, Karin was in New York. She and Hank had a meeting with a Carlos Castillo. In the past four days Hank was able to confirm that Jesse Clarke wasn't hiding out only because he turned state's evidence against his former employers, but he had also stolen at least four million from them. The Columbians were anxious to retrieve as much of that money as they could and would probably offer a 'reward' to whomever helped them recover it.

The meeting took place in the hanger of an executive airport. A sleek private jet stood in contrast to the seven folding chairs set in a circle. When one of the Columbians tried to pat them down for weapons, Hank refused.

"What? Do you think we're stupid enough to start a firefight in here? There's five of you here that I can see. You all keep your weapons and we'll keep ours." The Columbian turned to see one of the men in the circle nod in agreement. Hank and Karin joined the men in the circle. As much as it bothered her feminist sensitivities, Karin was a realist. Having dealt with this macho culture in the past, she allowed Hank to do the talking. Introductions were made and Hank initiated the negotiations.

"If we could give you the name he's currently using and a good idea where you could find him; what's the finder's fee?"

Karin was surprised when the man who had been introduced as Arias answered instead of Castillo. "What are you proposing?"

Hank responded. "Ten percent is fairly standard."

Almost everyone in the circle was stunned when Arias countered. "Or I could just torture the two of you until one of you talks, saving my boss the ten percent. I might even get a bonus."

Hank reacted coolly. "That would be short-sighted on your part. Karin and I both have friends; hers is in the New York PD, mine have drones. My friends in Langley know we're here and that I'm talking to you. Some of those friends would welcome any excuse to go all Bruce Willis on your boss in Bogota, sending a drone down his chimney."

Arias knew he had gone too far; nervously looking over at Carlos, who still remained quiet. Arias tried to recover. "I thought we were negotiating. You asked for ten percent, I countered with nothing."

Carlos broke his silence, saying something to Arias in Spanish before turning to Hank and Karin.

"Please excuse my young compadre. He has seen too many of your Hollywood gangster movies and because of his youth, believes if he talks tough, it will earn the respect of others."

Hank smiled at Carlos, knowing this was the man who made the decisions. "We were all young once."

Carlos smiled back. "Yes, I thought I'd give him an opportunity to learn today. A chance to grow."

"He'll be fine. He has a good teacher."

Arias listened to the two men talk; understanding this is how men with power showed respect and power. He also realized that during this back and forth, neither man disrespected him in front of the others. Arias learned something this day.

Carlos asked Hank. "Would you consider five percent adequate? We will have considerable expenses before we recover anything."

Hank looked at Karin, who nodded in agreement.

"Five percent is fine. How will it be paid?"

"It will be deposited in an account on the Caymans. Whatever we recover, five percent will be paid within the month."

Hank didn't have to ask why they could trust the Columbians; he already had it on good authority that Carlos Castillo was a man of his word; despite how he earned his money.

As Karin and Hank drove away, they talked.

"It's drug money of course."

Hank was waiting for this from her. "If you're uneasy, give it to a worthy charity. No one says you have to keep it."

"How did you get to be so damn cynical?"

"Oh, come on Karin. It could have something to do with working for the government for so long. Do you know how many politicians became millionaires while serving in Congress? Do you think all that money came from legitimate sources, always in the altruistic, best-interests of the citizens they supposedly serve? At least I'm not pretending to work in the best interests of the 'common man'."

"You are cynical!"

"What about Clarke? Any qualms?"

"I'm not going to lose any sleep over him. One less rapist in the world."

Hank glanced over at Karin as he drove the car. "And who's cynical now?"

They crossed the bridge back into Manhattan. Hank broke the silence. "When the deposit comes in, give me a third. Do what you want with the rest."

"I was going to split it with you - fifty/fifty."

"I know you were, but you earned it. You know you won't be able to bring any of the money into the States, right?"

"What do you suggest?"

"Spend it in the Caribbean. You and Bill can have a couple 'vacations of a lifetime'. Get out of that wet Portland winter and go swimming in the warm blue sea."

"Sounds wonderful; but I guess I should wait to see what happens before I spend the money."

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

A week passed with no news. Karin did her best to calm Larry Parker down; without promising anything, she tried to assure him that things were in the works to prevent him from losing Gunner. But it was now two weeks before the hearing on paternity and custody. Parker was getting nervous; and if she would admit it, so was Karin.

Bill dropped Karin off in front of her building. The first thing that caught her attention was that Randall wasn't in the doorway, which meant he either spent the night in one of his girlfriends' tents, which he was apt to do on occasion, or one of the other tenants came in early that morning. The post-covid/remote workplace concept was keeping companies from renting offices here; there were only five offices occupied in this entire building and rumor had it that the top two or three floors, which were now empty, would soon be converted into condos instead of offices.

As she entered her office, she didn't have time to react to the jolt of electricity; her mind flashed brilliant white, then went black.

Sometime later, Karin woke up to find her arms and left leg bound to a stiff chair; her mouth gagged so she could mumble, but not scream. As her vision cleared, she saw Jesse Clarke standing in front of her with a large Bowie knife in his hand.

"Waking up, Karin? Good girl. It's time to have some fun. Well, I'm going to have fun; you, not so much." Clarke saw Karin's eyes staring at the knife. "Oh, did you notice the blood on the handle? I didn't have time to clean it after I got rid of that bum squatting in your doorway. Maybe they'll find his body when it starts to stink in the dumpster out back."

Clarke moved the knife from her face down to her chest. Karin followed the knife blade's movement and only then noticed she was only wearing her bra and panties. Clarke continued his threats.

"The thing is, I never understood these guys who worry about whether their bed partner is getting off on the sex; maybe it's just me, but if I'm having fun and getting off, that's good enough for me."

The blade slipped under the front clasp of Karin's bra. It must have been razor sharp because the fabric split and the two cups fell down, held only by the shoulder straps. Karin tried to say something, but the binding in her mouth made the words unintelligible. This made Clarke smile.

"And that bitch at Fort Bragg - she didn't enjoy it, but I did. I'm sure you heard about her. Same with my stuck-up stepsister. The same with so many since then - and now you. The difference is, they all lived through it. Sorry, you won't." He slipped the blade, spine side against her skin, down to Karin's panties. He twisted the blade to cut the right waist band.

Clarke leaned back. "Have you figured out where you are yet?" He paused, "We're on the fifth floor of your own building. There are two empty floors between us and any of the occupied offices. You'll be able to scream, although not loud enough for anyone to hear with that binding in your mouth. I thought about using a ball-gag, but then I'd miss the pleasure of your moans - or is it groans?"

The sinister smile never left Clarke's face as he approached Karin again with the knife. "Time's up; let's get to it. We have a few hours until your hubby comes back to pick you up. See - I did my homework, too." Clarke began to unbuckle his belt with his left hand as the blade neared the left side of her panty, Karin heard the 'pffft' and saw the dart in Clarke's neck.

"What the fu...?" is all that came out of his mouth as Clarke reached to his neck with his free hand before dropping to the ground. Three masked men came into Karin's line of sight, picked up Clarke and began to drag him away. Then Carlos stepped up to the chair, holding Karin's blouse.

"Let me get those off." Carlos used the Bowie knife to cut through the plastic straps, untied the binding in her mouth and handed Karin the blouse. "I'm sorry we couldn't get here sooner."

"I'm just glad you came when you did." Karin slipped the blouse on and was pleased when Carlos handed her the prosthetic and slacks from the floor without staring at her nakedness.

"Fausto was watching the building and called as soon as Clarke showed up this morning. We had people watching his house in Tempe, at your office and your house. We didn't know where he'd turn up so our plane has been sitting on the tarmac in Sacramento, waiting for a call. As soon as Fausto called, we flew right up. Are you OK?"