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Chapter 15: Ghost

Jeremiah looked at Angel, who was standing at the counter, talking to a cute little thing in a correction's uniform. He sighed and stepped up to stand next to his brother, unable to resist the compulsion that had been wearing away at him for several minutes. "Hey, little brother, Camille was hoping you and Sofi could come over for dinner one night. You want to ask your lovely fiancé about that?"

Angel had been smiling wide at the young lady behind the counter, but his smile slowly seemed to drop slightly as soon as Jeremiah had spoken Sofi's name. "I'll do that, as soon as I get the chance." He turned his head and gave Jeremiah a hard stare.

The young lady rolled her eyes and turned to walk away from the two Mercers.

"Hey, Lauren, you never answered my question." Angel snapped back around to look at her retreating form, his eyes shifting down further than they should have as he watched her back swaying from side to side with each step. He sighed when she didn't turn back or respond to him. "Damn, Jerry, I was digging for information, man, and you just ruined it." He didn't look back over.

"Why is it you seem to have to pick the women to try to dig that information out of Angel?" Jerry asked. "Damn, you don't want to screw shit up with Sofi, do you?"

"The way things are looking right now, we might not have to worry about women, Jerr'." Angel finally turned to face his brother. "Besides, not every relationship can be as picture perfect as yours and Camille's. Sofi is special, I love her, but I ain't locking myself up in a closet for the rest of my life just because I'm with her. I talk to women, I look, but I sure as hell don't touch, and Sofi knows that." He shifted his weight to another leg. "I was trying to find out what the hell was going on with Jack. We've been waiting for a long time."

"It ain't been that long. Man, they'll bring him out soon enough. You know how this works." Jeremiah tried to ignore the comment about his and Camille's relationship being perfect. If only Angel knew the stress his marriage was under he might understand his older brother's concern for his own relationship, but he wasn't able to share that information, not just yet. Somethings just didn't need to be shared with his brothers; somethings were beyond his brothers, or so he figured.

Angel looked at Jeremiah and frowned. "Why the hell do you look so depressed? Jack is being released, at least for now, and that's a good thing, right?" He seemed to pick up on Jeremiah's worries.

"Yeah, it's all good; of course it's good." Jeremiah shook his head. "Nothing is wrong." He forced his thoughts about his wife into the dark shadows of his brain.

Angel forced a cynical laugh. "Oh, hell there's all sorts of shit wrong with this whole situation." He turned his head to watch a few cops walk past, and Jeremiah followed his gaze. The stares cast their way were meant to intimidate, but neither Mercer averted their eyes. Angel shot a sideways glance at Jeremiah once the officers had passed and chuckled softly. "Hell, I guess we showed them, huh?" He joked.

Jeremiah understood Angel's point; they had both stood, side by side, and faced down the cops, together. Just like they always had as boys; neither had any intention of leaving the other to face anything alone. That went for all of their brothers. He nodded his head and gave Angel a small smile. "Damn straight." He agreed.

The door at the end of the open hall swung inward and Jack strolled through, looking none the worse for wear at first glance. His shirt was hanging out of his pants, and he looked bare, with no leather wrapped around his wrists or rings on his fingers. Robert Bradford emerged from the door directly behind Jack. He gave Jack a pat on his arm and motioned to the counter where Jeremiah was standing with Angel. Jack looked over towards them and a spark seemed to flare up in his eyes. "Where's Bobby?" He asked as he stepped over towards them.

"Well hello to you too Cracker Jack." Angel reached his arms out towards Jack and gave him a brief hug. "You always know what to say to make us feel all fuzzy and warm inside."

Jack returned the hug, though only partially. "Fuck you. Where is Bobby?" He asked.

"He's checking out a few things." Jeremiah glanced around him at the uniforms. "We'll talk in the car."

"I need to get my shit." Jack muttered and needled in between Angel and Jeremiah at the counter.

"Hey, get my brother his things." Angel called to the cute little jail guard he'd been flirting with a few minutes earlier. "Please?" He added with a smile that usually swept the women off of their feet.

A corrections officer wearing a silver name tag sauntered up to the counter a moment later with an envelope. Jeremiah read the name. Paul Everholtz. He noticed a look between Jack and Paul as Jack snatched the envelope out of the guard's hand. He also noticed the twitch in Jack's jaw as he opened the envelope and dumped his rings and leather onto the counter.

Jack returned each ring to the proper finger and strapped his leather around his wrist with slow, careful motions, glancing up at good old Paul in between each of his moves. "So, Jack, you okay?" Angel seemed to notice the glances between his brother and the guard as well; his gaze was fixed on the uniform as he spoke.

"I'm fine." Jack muttered. "Let's get the hell out of here." He stuffed his wallet into his back pocket and turned towards the door.

"You'll be back, Mercer, just wait." Paul called out just as they reached the door.

Jack didn't look back, though Jeremiah was sure his brother's shoulders tensed at the sound of the words. Jack stepped quickly down the steps and to the street. He looked up and down the curb. "Where's the car?"

"Jack, hold up." Robert spoke from behind Jeremiah, following them. "I need to make sure you understand…"

"I get it, okay. A hearing is scheduled for first thing in the morning." Jack turned back to look at Robert. He seemed to really take in the sight of Angel and Jeremiah for the first time. "I need to talk to Bobby." He gave his shoulders a shrug and his arms lifted slightly. "We need to find Craig."

Jeremiah turned to Robert Bradford. "Do we know anything new about Craig?" He had a feeling that Jack and Robert both knew something more than the rest of the Mercers. He hadn't talked to Green since they left the house, but he'd thought his friend would call if he had heard anything.

"I was hoping to talk to all of you at the same time. Where is Bobby?" Robert stepped up to Jeremiah as he pulled gloves on over his hands.

"He's checking up on some things, just like we said." Angel spoke up. "We gotta try to figure out exactly what Harris if after. We need to know what Mack's had that Harris wants."

Jeremiah shot Angel a hard look. "Shut the fuck up." He spoke quickly, trying to nod his head as discretely as possible towards the cops coming down the steps of the police station.

"What?" Angel looked surprised by Jeremiah's words. "We trust Robert, and we need to keep him in the loop." He spoke quietly when he realized there were police officers walking past them.

They waited until the officers were moving on down the walk before turning back to look at Robert.

"We know that our local Children's Services don't have Craig. That's for certain. I've got calls into surrounding counties, and I've got calls out to Harris' partner, but it's late, and I doubt if I'll hear anything before morning." Robert shook his head.

"What the hell do you think Harris is doing?" Jeremiah asked quickly.

"I think he's trying to get information from Craig, and the only way he could try was to separate him from Bobby. Bobby wouldn't let him talk to the boy, so, he had to get to him another way." Robert drew in a deep breath. "What could Craig know about Macks' dealings?"

Jeremiah scowled. "Nothing, I mean how could he? He's been in our house for seven years. He didn't have any contact with Macks until…" He couldn't quite finish his thought, part of him cringing inside at the thought of Adam Macks having his hands on Craig so recently. Now the idea of Harris playing some kind of bullshit game played around in his head.

"Well, Harris must think he knows something." Robert looked at Jack as he expected him to add something to the statement.

"Harris didn't bother trying to question me. He told me if I wouldn't talk to him, then he knew a Mercer who would. Then he told the others to book me that he was going to the courthouse; that's where he told them to take Craig." Jack spoke quickly. "He was going to have him taken to St. Vincent's after he was finished with him."

"The courthouse," Jeremiah felt more confused after Jack's information than ever. "Why in God's name would he take a fourteen year old kid to the courthouse and not have him processed through Children's Services?"

"Because Children's Services don't have him," Robert spoke carefully. "That's what alarms me. I need to speak with Bobby; I need to work with him, given the fact that he is the custodial guardian." He added quickly.

"Yeah, well I can tell you right now, Bobby ain't figuring on being able to deal with Harris in any courtroom. The man ain't gonna give us that because he knows all of the evidence concerning Macks works in our favor. He's got his hands into something dirty and whatever it is he's after us because he thinks we got what he needs. No amount of reasoning is going to convince him otherwise." Angel spoke the words slow and precise; as if he wanted to be sure Robert understood his meaning.

Robert nodded his head. "I know that. But in the mean time, we have no idea where Craig is."

"Harris said the courthouse." Jack corrected the older man.

"The courthouse in our district is closed Jack, it's after hours. I've already called everyone I could think of locally, and in neighboring districts, and there simply is no one anywhere with any knowledge of Craig's presence. He has not been taken to St. Vincent's either." Robert shook his head slowly. "He's disappeared, like a ghost."

The old packaging plant had, at one time, processed frozen fish for a small time fishing company. The building had been boarded up for years. Johnny's father had owned in back in the day, but had lost it when times got too hard. Johnny had several abandoned buildings that he liked, but anytime he said he was going fishing, he was heading back to the stomping grounds of his childhood.

The dark stairwell smelled of stale piss, tobacco, and some illegal substances that Bobby could identify if he took enough time to think about it. He didn't feel like taking the time though, he wanted to get to the end of the stairs and to some fresh air before he could no longer contain his urge to bring up his lunch. He was sure it was still there, he could feel it lying on his stomach like a bundle of nails, spiking at his insides.

The twilight was bearing down on Detroit with the clouds having cleared away, at least for the moment. The air still felt like snow despite the fact that Bobby couldn't quite explain that feeling. He closed the metal door behind him and looked at the gravel covered roof. At the far end he could see Johnny with his eye pressed into one end of a large telescope.

It was Johnny's obsession on hot, muggy, summer nights, fishing for stars on the roof of the abandoned building. Taking one of his 'fishing' trips in the middle of winter was odd, but hell, the man was getting older and older people did some strange things no matter how fucking tough they might have been in their youth. It was a hobby Johnny had shared with his father as a youngster, and he held true to in even now, so many years after the man's death.

Bobby remembered going with Johnny a few times, spending entire nights on a roof, star gazing, or street gazing, depending on the cloud and smog level over the city. Usually the telescope was aimed downward, as was the case now. "What took you so long?" Johnny called out from his awkward position of leaning into his lens with no chair so support him. He didn't move to look away from his view.

Bobby had to smile at the sight. He hadn't seen Johnny spying off of a roof for years and somehow it gave a feeling of finally being home despite the shit going down around him. "I had to lose a couple of Feds." He walked across the gravel topped roof, towards the ledge where Johnny had set up his telescope. "That's not the easiest thing to do when you're on foot."

"What the hell you walkin' the streets for, you've got a car, ain't ya?" Johnny swiveled the telescope slightly to the left and chuckled softly, "Stupid shit you're gonna end up getting killed roamin' the streets after dark."

Bobby pulled to a stop a couple of feet behind Johnny. "You still spy on your ex-wife Johnny? I would have thought you'd be over that obsession. It ain't healthy you know?" He chose to ignore the reference to the Gremlin he'd left parked in his drive.

"Oh, hell, I gave up on her after she shot me." Johnny turned and looked at Bobby, a big grin spread across his face. "There is a lot of shit to watch if you look close enough. Here take a look." He backed away from the telescope and snatched the brown bag out of Bobby's hands.

Bobby didn't have to lean down as far as Johnny to peer into the lens. He could hear the brown paper ripped away from the beer bottle while his eye took focus of the view beneath him. He felt his eye squint and his hand moved to adjust the focus slightly. The view of the front of a bar became clear. "You're watching drunks instead now, huh?" He chuckled softly as he watched a young couple stagger out the door and down the street.

"Keep watching." Johnny spoke in his quiet voice. "It might be more interesting than you think."

Bobby sighed, but kept his eye focused where Johnny had set the view. "What am I looking for Johnny?" He asked, but he could hear his friend gulping on the beer, and before he could answer a shiny, black Lincoln Continental pulled up to the curb in front of the bar. "Now that sticks out like a fucking straight man in a gay bar." He muttered, about to describe the sight to his friend.

"All Lincolns in this neighborhood stick out." Johnny commented. "That's how I heard about this one." He laughed quietly. "Rumor has it that Victor Sweet answered to someone, did you know that?" He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Sure, good ole' Vic took over his Uncle's business after offing the fucker, but his Uncle's dealings were part of a bigger business. He was high up in the system, but he wasn't the top man. So Victor didn't get to keep all of his profits, and he didn't run the whole show. If you think about it, it makes more sense than Victor Sweet having enough brains to operate the way he did. I mean, he was no idiot, but he didn't have the brains to play his cards so fucking well, think about it."

Bobby turned and glanced at Johnny, not sure how he knew the shit he knew sometimes. He turned back to watch the rear door of the car open. The man to climb out of the back seat was wearing expensive looking clothes, and a cowboy hat. His face wasn't clear until he turned and reached back into the car to assist the woman who was following him. Bobby felt his stomach leap into his throat as his mind told him this couldn't be possible. His hand reached for a knob to zoom in a little better on the man's features. "What the fuck?" He barely got the words out as recognition took hold. "That's impossible."

"Looks like some people just don't like to die." Johnny muttered from behind Bobby. "So, who the hell you think might know what Macks knew? Who do you think Harris is after? That man right there, he's the one you need to take down. You take him down and you will take Harris down with him."

Bobby watched the ghost of Jessup Winston walk through the door of the bar with the woman at his side. "Shit. How in the hell did he survive the explosion? They pulled a damn body out of the ashes and they identified it as Winston's."

"Sure they did." Johnny laughed. "He's not as stupid as he played out to be. He suffered a big loss, he lost all of his legitimate business dealings, and he has always kept himself separated from the real dirty shit that he's involved in by having others run it. He was on his way to jail unless he turned up dead. He wasn't as stupid as Macks took him for, and he wasn't as timid as Sweet took him to be. In fact, he was Sweet's boss in recent years. No one who works for him really knows who they're working for. So, for him to work for his own employees, keeping his hands in the business end of his operation gave him some insight into what his people were doing. The sad part is, according to my sources, he really didn't want to mess with you." Johnny laughed. "Word has it he liked you. He didn't like Macks."

Bobby stared at the empty exterior of the bar as the Lincoln pulled away from the curb. He finally managed to rip his attention away from the scene and turned to look at Johnny. "How did you know about him?"

Johnny took another drink of the beer. "You had to buy the cheap shit, didn't you?" He looked down at the beer and then back to Bobby.

"Don't start bullshitting me after all of these years Johnny. If no one knows about him, how the hell did you find out about him?" Bobby could feel his heart bulging under his chest, something close to indigestion.

"There's a guy that comes into my place, likes to pick up odd jobs. He's worked for Sweet a few times in the past, and he had overheard phone conversations. He also knew that the 'Big Boss' died a few years back, but someone stepped into his shoes, gave people like Sweet more freedom, but still ran each operation from out of town somewhere." He kept his voice quiet as he looked up into the few bits of starlight visible.

"Okay, Johnny, you need to tell me everything you know. How the hell did Jessup Winston walk away from that warehouse explosion?" Bobby stepped over to Johnny and snatched beer from his hands. He took a long chug off of the bottle. He had a feeling he was going to need something a little bit stronger than cheap beer by the end of the night.