So, this is a really fast update, and I'm hoping it makes up for the shortness and the long delay of the last chapter. I haven't gotten any reviews on the last one, so I'm not sure if you haven't read it or if you have read it and hated it. Either way, let me know! Things start to heat up in this chapter, so let me know what you think!
Damian Keller sauntered into Dante's at ten past eleven that night and settled himself in at a table in the back. He ordered a vodka rocks and the drink arrived almost immediately. He was dressed entirely in black, black jeans, tight fitting black t-shirt and a black blazer. There was a small gold hoop in his right ear, courtesy of Sydney and a sterilized needle two nights before. Thankfully, his dark skin disguised the irritation plaguing the area.
Trivette sipped his drink, trying his best to maintain Damian Keller's persona. He surveyed the crowd on the dance floor, but didn't see any familiar faces. Glancing at the bar he noticed a large man staring at him. Trivette raised his glass in salute and took another sip. "Showtime." He muttered to himself as the man started towards him, thought the highly sensitive mike taped to his chest picked up every word.
"Mr. Keller?" he asked.
"That depends." Trivette sipped his drink. "Who wants to know?"
"I believe we have a mutual friend."
"Who would that be?"
"Someone who could meet your every need."
Trivette cursed silently. He needed something concrete. He knew this was Carr's guy, but so far they had nothing they could use in court. "What need do you think I have?"
Carr's associate looked around. "Let's go somewhere and discuss it."
"Listen," Trivette instructed, "I didn't come here to play games. You know what I want. I've got people lining up back home and if you can't give me what I need I'll find someone else who can. You know how to get in touch with me." Trivette stood, dropped a twenty on the table and started toward the door. He heard the protests of people behind him as Carr's associate pushed them out of the way. Once they were out the door, the man spoke.
"Wait a second."
Trivette paused but offered no words of encouragement or interest.
The man continued. "Mr. Carr would like to see you. He thinks that an arrangement with you could be mutually beneficial."
"Well, obviously I think that too, or else I wouldn't be here."
The associate laughed softly and offered his hand. "I'm Dale."
"Damian." Trivette took Dale's hand and shook it. "So, when do I meet the mysterious Mr. Carr?"
"In good time. We'll contact you."
"See that you do."
Trivette handed his parking ticket to the valet who returned a few minutes later with Damian Keller's car, a black Aston Martin Vanquish. He peeled out of the club's driveway leaving Dale standing alone. Dale took out his phone and made a call.
"Tell Mr. Carr things look promising."
The next morning, Damian Keller left his apartment to go get coffee at a local café. He sat at a table, back to back with a man with blonde tousled hair. Damian Keller sipped his coffee as a man behind him spoke.
"Everything alright?" Gage asked softly.
Trivette sipped his coffee. "Fine. Did you get everything last night?"
"Yeah. Syd ran down this Dale guy, it's probably Dale Jackson. He was a pal of Carr's before prison. After Carr took down Purcell, he made Jackson his number two. He does most of his bidding. He's bad news."
"I figured as much. Are they watching the apartment?"
"Yeah. Syd said they came by while you were at the club, broke in, stayed for ten minutes, and left. You were right about that one, the place is probably bugged now."
"You guys be careful; if they're keeping the apartment under surveillance they could make you."
"It's under control. We're going to switch out the van, keep out of sight. They probably won't keep you under surveillance long; Carr wants to get rid of the drugs."
"Yeah but still. We know what he's capable of. You guys be careful."
"You too."
Trivette stood and dropped his now empty coffee cup into the trash on his way out. As he drove back to his apartment he noticed the nondescript beige sedan following a few cars behind him the whole way. Everything was going as planned.
He hung around his apartment for most of the day, making calls for the benefit of whoever was listening. He talked to a few "buyers" back in LA who were anxious for the product. He swore to them he would have it soon, one way or another.
Dale Jackson listened to every word, becoming more convinced with each conversation. At four that afternoon, he made the call directly to Jamie Carr. "He looks good for it. He's got the clients lined up, he seems legit. Want me to pick him up tonight?"
"Yes, why don't you do that?" Carr said, his voice slightly muffled by the pillow on the massage table he was currently lying on. "Bring him here. I need to have a little chat with Mr. Damian Keller before we can do business."
Gage and Sydney were camped out in the nondescript SUV they'd parked down the street from Damian Keller's apartment. They were still able to listen to what went on inside, but things had been quiet for the past few hours, other than Trivette's staged phone calls. Gage was in the driver's seat, an almost empty cup of coffee in his lap. He heard Sydney sigh and he looked over at her as she closed the file she'd been reading on her lap for the past twenty minutes.
"What's up?"
She shook her head. "Nothing." She sipped her drink and Gage didn't press things. He knew it was too soon for that. As it turns out, she was willing to continue on her own. "Just this case. Right after Alex…after everything happened, I passed a man in the hallway of Headquarters. He was nearly hysterical and I tried to calm him down. I don't know why, I guess I just felt like my life was such a mess that I wanted to help him out. So anyway, we talked and he told me that his sister had gone missing a few days before, the day of the fire, actually. I told him I would look into it, but things just got away from me. I never really gave it the attention it deserved."
"Syd, we all had other things on our minds." Gage appeased.
"Yeah, I know. And the case didn't have much to go on to begin with, but I hate it when I know I didn't do everything possible to help someone."
"Syd, as much as I hate to say it, there's nothing you can do about it now. After we nail Carr, we can go back over this case and figure out what happened."
"Yeah, I know. We need to focus on getting Jamie Carr right now."
"Exactly." Gage grinned at her and then turned his eyes back toward the street. The smile faded. "Heads up." He jerked his head to indicate a black limo that was slowly cruising down the street. It came to a stop right in front of the apartment building Trivette was staying in. Sydney and Gage crouched down in their seats, even though the windows of their car were so tinted that no one had a chance of seeing in. Two men got out, one of whom was Dale Jackson, recognizable because of the fact that his picture was sitting on the dash. They entered the building.
Over the radio receiver linked to Trivette's apartment they heard three abrupt knocks, then the sound of the door opening.
"What's up?" came Trivette's voice.
"Mr. Keller. We met the other night, remember?" Dale Jackson spoke now.
"Of course. Have you heard back from our mutual friend?"
"I have. He wishes to speak with you."
"Let's do it then. I have clients waiting back home."
The sound of a door closing followed and moments later the three men exited the apartment building. Trivette was careful not to look anywhere near the car Gage and Sydney were in. He got into the limo without fuss and Gage and Sydney waited in anticipation for the conversation to begin.
To ensure Trivette's safety, a listening device was planted in one of the buttons of his shirt. Trivette had been dead set against wearing a wire, he thought the chances of Carr finding it were too high, but Gage had been relentless. He argued that the button device appeared normal enough to not cause suspicion should Trivette be searched. Another button on the shirt actually contained a tracking device so that they could pinpoint Trivette's location should something go awry. Gage was still marveling at the technological advances of the past few years even as a small dot popped up on their GPS screen, showing the limo's path as it pulled away from the building. They waited five minutes and followed.
Jamie Carr's substantial estate was nearly an hour away from Damian Keller's apartment. The car ride there was silent, though the mood in the limo was relatively light. Dale Jackson had not spoken since they'd left the apartment, nor had the burly man sitting next to him that seemed incapable of doing anything but glare. Trivette assumed Gage and Sydney were travelling a safe distance behind the limo and consequentially felt very protected. He trusted them with his life and he had told them as much last week during one of their many planning meetings.
The long car ride finally ended as the limo pulled into a discreet driveway blocked by a gate. The driver said a few words to a guard standing there and the gate swung forward to let them in. Trivette surreptitiously looked around, getting his bearings while trying not to look too interested. Damian Keller was used to this kind of wealth.
One good thing Trivette had noted was that he had not been blindfolded. This could mean, of course, that Carr was onto him and was going to kill him as soon as he got out of the car. But something in Dale Jackson's posture suggested that this wasn't the case. More likely, Damian Keller had checked out, and business could begin.
This theory was reinforced when his door was swung open by a well dressed valet and he was lead inside Jamie Carr's manse, his coat was removed, he was offered a drink (which he accepted) and led into a study of sorts with two plush armchairs facing a large desk. He settled into the chair nearest the desk and waited, occasionally glancing at his watch or sipping his drink, appearing to any observer totally at ease.
Ten minutes after his arrival the door to the study swung open and Trivette stood, offering his hand to none other than Jamie Carr himself. Carr had obviously put his new-found wealth to use; he was no longer the scrawny kid he'd been in prison but a buff, tan, and extremely well dressed man. He took Trivette's hand and shook at as though they were old friends. Trivette wasn't fooled though, Carr was a good actor.
"Ah, Mr. Keller. So sorry to keep you waiting." Carr began.
Of course you are. "No problem at all. Let's get started." Trivette answered.
"Straight to business. I like it. But please, tell me about yourself."
Trivette gave the short version of Damian Keller's history, knowing that hitting every detail would seem more suspicious than leaving some things out. He breezed through Carr's questions of past buyers and sellers, and was able to deflect musings about how their mutual contacts had never mentioned Mr. Keller before.
"I tend to keep a low profile." Trivette said. "Something I'm sure you understand."
Carr nodded his agreement. "Tell me about your clientele."
"Mr. Carr," Trivette began, "I understand your caution. But my clients have waited long enough; they're getting impatient. If we can't make a deal, I will find another supplier."
"Not so fast Mr. Keller. I didn't say we couldn't make a deal. I was only trying to be polite."
Trivette studied the man sitting before him. Carr was from a rough neighborhood but like all big players in the drug world, he'd managed to perfect his speech patterns. He sounded schooled even though he hadn't made it past the tenth grade. The better his speech, the better the actor and the better the actor, the more dangerous the man.
"I can appreciate that. I'm only asking you to understand my situation. My arrangement with my normal supplier fell through due to unforeseen circumstances. I'm in a bind and I'm willing to offer a fair price. I'm told your product is one of the best-"
"My product is the best, Mr. Keller. I can assure you of that. You have the money?"
"Of course."
"Where is it?"
"Not here. I'm not stupid, Mr. Carr."
"Please call me Jamie. And might I inquire as to the specific location of the money?"
"I can get it, and I mean only I can get it. Name your price and I'll get you the cash tomorrow."
Carr studied him. "You're reputation says you're good for it."
"I am. I have too many clients not to be."
"Very well. Tomorrow then. But now, if you'll forgive me for the late hour, I haven't eaten. Would you care to join me?"
"It's after midnight." Trivette stated bluntly.
"True. What's another hour or two?"
Trivette was in a bind. If he said yes, he could be walking into a trap. If he said no, Carr would peg him as being anxious. He took the gamble.
"Sure. What're we having?" he dropped Damian Keller's business voice for only a second just to assure Carr that he was completely at ease.
"I don't know what my chef prepared, but I assure you, it will be delicious. Ah, here is the food now." He looked over Trivette's shoulder to the doorway. "Just set it on the desk."
Trivette turned slightly in his chair to see who was coming in, his hand travelling instinctively to his back, where his gun was concealed. He needn't have worried. A young woman was shuffling into the room, her head down, eyes on the floor. She was blonde and very thin, wearing only a short blue cotton shift that was worn but clean. Keeping her eyes on the floor she made her way to the desk where she set down the tray she'd been carrying. She set a plate in front of Trivette, not making eye contact, and did the same for Carr. Trivette's mind wasn't on the food though, he was making a mental note to tell Gage and Sydney that there was at least one potential hostage in this house; this woman obviously wasn't here voluntarily. She was pouring red wine for each of them when Carr spoke.
"How does it look Mr. Keller?"
"Delicious. Since I've been in Dallas I've been surviving on fast food and takeout, I'm not much of a cook."
The woman pouring the wine was no longer paying attention to it; her eyes were on Trivette's face. As Trivette's cup overflowed with the red liquid Carr screeched and demanded immediate cleanup.
"You stupid bitch!" he roared before raising his fist and backhanding her cheek.
The woman whimpered and fell to the floor.
"Get the hell out of my sight!"
She scrambled to her feet and began backing out of the room keeping her eyes on Trivette.
He almost did a double take, but thankfully caught himself before Carr noticed. The frail blonde woman backing out of the room looked wonderfully familiar.
It was Alex.