The following week, Remy called Rochelle to tell her she had gotten in a new shipment of clothing she might find interesting. For the sake of those whom she knew were listening in on the phone conversation, Rochelle joked about all the clothes she already had and no place to wear them. “However, since shopping has become my only pastime, I suppose I must come see what you have. Perhaps tomorrow or the next day I'll stop by when I go to the drugstore for some personal items.”
Rochelle's heart thumped erratically every time Remy called.
Happiness surged through her like a rush of energy, and she purposely fought to hide her excitement. Even with a mere letter, Michael had the power to send her into a buoyancy of spirit marred only by extreme longing for him. She craved his lips, his hands as they wove their magic, and she craved him, his physical presence in her life.
“Come whenever you like, but you know they'll be picked over if you wait too long,” Remy replied, understanding the word game Rochelle played to keep the listeners from becoming suspicious of her frequent trips to the shop.
The next day when she visited Remy's shop, just as she had done the last time, she read Michael's letter, which began with gentle devotion. Honey, I miss you more every day, and long to have you with me again. She held the letter to her breast several moments before reminding herself she had to write a reply. Michael wrote a number of questions requiring answers, and in the dressing room, she wrote hurriedly, trying to be as thorough as possible. She declared her love for him, and how she missed him, and after sealing her letter in the envelope, handed it to Remy when she came to the dressing room again.
ROCHELLE'S NEXT STOP was to the drugstore. She purposely asked Tobias for spending money to use at the drugstore for smaller items she didn't want to use the charge card for, and he peeled off a fifty-dollar bill. He was unwilling to give her more for fear she might try to use it to get away again. When her two bodyguards followed her around like a puppy dog, bruising her delicate ego with prying eyes as she gathered personal items she needed, she felt impelled to object.
“Dermot, I don't think my husband intended for the two of you to dog me to the point of making me nervous. Now please give me a little space.”
The two large men looked just slightly ill at ease, and moved away from her. They busied themselves at the magazine racks, pretending to read, when in reality, they were watching Rochelle's every move. She could just imagine Tobias telling them not to take their eyes off her, and they knew better than disobey him.
Rochelle put her purchases in a tote basket, and thought about the letter Michael sent her, now flushed down the toilet.
By now, you know what my intentions are and what I am planning. As soon as you know when Tobias will be going out of the country, I need to know. Please have your friend at the shop give me a call. I will not be able to forewarn you of the time, so be prepared to move quickly. Bring nothing with you, just what you will be wearing.
Rochelle, I realize the danger in this, and if there were an easier way, I would opt for it. Unfortunately, there is no easier way.
She had given Remy Michael's phone number, and worked out a communication technique whereby she could inform Remy when Tobias left the country again. Remy would call Michael, and then Michael would begin putting his plan into action. She could feel the excitement bubbling in her veins, fear of what lay ahead, as well as anxiousness over the prospect of seeing Michael once again.
MICHAEL TURNED THE BANK over to Ronald Zimmerman until further notice. Using the information Rochelle gave him, he spent long hours drawing out plans, procedures, techniques, keeping some, discarding others. When he was certain all his plans were in place, he proceeded to hire the five men who would help him.
Curly and Joe, the two giant-sized truckers, who had stepped in the day of Michael and Wayne's confrontation, agreed readily to help after receiving an offer of Five Thousand Dollars each. Michael informed them that the generous sum was because of the danger involved. Wallace Udell, who installed the security system in Michael's home as well as in his father's house, also joined the team for the generous offer that would help catch up on unpaid bills. The risk Michael outlined was also worth it to Leland Maxwell, an electrician.
The last man was not as easy to come by as the others were.
Since they would not be able to use weapons, he needed a man who could take someone out quickly if the need arose, someone who could back him up in a confrontation. After querying the four men, Udell said he knew such a person who lived in Bozeman who would fill the requirements.
Ramm Prescott was a black-belt martial arts instructor who frowned and said no when Udell approached him of the job offer.
When Udell explained the Five Thousand Dollar payment for a job that would require going to Miami and putting in about an hour's effort, Ramm mentally calculated how much he needed to keep his dying Karate school afloat. He accepted.
With his selection of men completed, Michael called them together over several evenings at his home and went over every detail of his plan. Each man was given a special task to perform, and would be responsible themselves for whatever tools they would need. Michael discussed every minute detail, along with possible problems and with back-up measures if something should go wrong.
He developed his carefully charted plans on a time scale, right down to mere seconds.
“It's important that we synchronize our efforts. We have to know what everyone else is doing at any given time. There will only be five minutes before the generators kick on after we shut the electricity down. Wallace, it will be up to you to knock out the generators within that five-minute period. The cameras have battery backups, and I would like them knocked out since they carry video footage; however, my main concern is putting the generators out of commission in order to black out the security monitors. That will keep the guards from tracking our movements.
“Curly, I'm counting on the diversion you'll make at the gate to draw the guards. We have to prepare for any guards inside the house, as well. Ramm, that's where you'll come in to back me up, in the event I'm confronted by a guard,” Michael explained.
“Won't we need a van that looks like it's from the electrical company?” Leland Maxwell asked.
“I thought about that, but since the hour will be late at night, I think we're safe with any kind of vehicle heavy enough to total the iron-gate out front. Leland is only going to be on the pole long enough to knock out the power to the house. We can pick up a used vehicle; possibly find something for sale in the newspaper and pay cash for it without leaving a paper trail.”
“What about the dogs?” Curly asked.
“That's Joe's job. He'll set the lead by ten minutes, throw in about ten pounds of meat that's been injected with a sedative the vet says will have them sleeping until noon the next day. Let's just hope they haven't been overfed so much that they're not hungry.”
“Suppose they don't eat it, what then?”
Michael reached to a table near him and drew a gun forward. He handed it to the men who looked at it and passed it around.
“It's a dart gun. I have seen it used on television to put down wild animals. But where do you get the darts or the stuff that's needed?” Joe asked.
“A banker makes lots of friends,” Michael smiled. “But this wasn't easy to come by, and I do have to return it, so let's not leave it behind.”
He reached back to the table again and brought out more hand-held items. “These will put a man down immediately if you can get close enough to touch him with it. I call them zappers, but I believe most people call them stun guns. They carry enough of an electrical charge to put a huge man out of commission. Each of you will carry one of these. However, keep in mind the men you will be encountering will have weapons and they will use them without hesitation. You may never get close enough to use these. I also have pepper spray, but again it is useless unless you are close to your foe.
Our greatest strength will lie in avoiding detection. Hopefully, Curly will give enough diversion at the gate to keep the guards preoccupied.”
Leland Maxwell spoke up. “My job is to knock out the electricity at the same time that Curly implements his diversion?”
“Right, and you and Curly must co-ordinate your efforts simultaneously. It has to look like the accident knocked out the power, and it will take them a while to realize that is not the case.
Fellows, do all of you know what you have to do?” Michael asked.
He passed his gaze over each of them, and they nodded in turn.
“I'm waiting for a phone call, and I have no idea when it will come. When it does, we have to be prepared to leave immediately.
We'll be flown there in a private plane, but coming back, we'll be driving.”
“Why? Couldn't we get out faster on a plane?” asked Udell
“When they discover Rochelle missing, the airport will be the first place they look and I don't trust the police there. Fellows, I must remind you that this is extremely dangerous. If any of you want out, say so now.”
No one said anything for a minute, and then Joe spoke up.
“Mike, I'm with you.” He was remembering how Michael had loaned him the money for his rig after he had decided he could make more money working independently than driving for a truck broker.
His credit report had been disgustingly sad, but Mike believed in him and trusted him.
“Yeah, me too,” agreed Curly who had also received his share of help from Michael when his wife needed some serious surgery for which he had no insurance to cover it.
The other three fellows nodded their acceptance. The promise of Five Thousand Dollars for a couple of days work was too enticing to turn down.
TOBIAS SPENT A LONG TIME on the phone one evening nearly eight weeks after Rochelle's return home. They sat together in the family room downstairs, and Rochelle watched television while Tobias took his call. She heard snatches of his conversation, which sounded defensive. Whatever the other party was saying to him did not set well with Tobias. He was argumentative, and every word he said carried strong defenses. Then he said what Rochelle had been hoping to hear for the past several weeks.
“I'll be out of here on the first available plane,” he said, and slammed the receiver down on the phone cradle. He continued staring at the phone several minutes, his mind deep in thought.
Rochelle glanced toward him and watched while he lifted his fist and slammed it on the table with a crash, sending an ashtray smashing to the floor. She jumped automatically, the old fears waking with the speed of lightning at Tobias's display of anger that edged his face with worry lines about his eyes and mouth.
Something wasn't going well for him, but Rochelle had no idea what the problem was, except, the source of the call came from someone down in Colombia. From the snatches of conversation she heard, she gathered that someone wasn't too pleased with Tobias.
“The fucking sons of bitches!” he swore loudly, reacting in an anxious rage to the message just received.
He picked up the phone and dialed a number. “Frank, what the hell is going on? You said everything was in the bag. Why is Judge Salvador not handling Monroe's case?”
Tobias listened, shaking his head. “Who in the hell told him he could take a vacation now? Get that son of a bitch back here and tell him to do something. Contact the attorneys and tell them to find some way to slow things down until Salvador gets back. If something goes wrong with this, we all go down together. Frank, don't let me down, man. I am counting on you to handle this. We're in one hell of a mess.”
Tobias's fears were closer to home now instead of down in Columbia. Sanchez was madder than hell over the loose structure his Miami organization had fallen to, but the state attorney's office was Tobias's biggest concern just now.
Berne Lindberg, State Attorney, had been trying to put Tobias away for years. Busting Monroe Tatum and getting the judge to deny bail, was the ideal situation Lindberg had kept waiting for a long time. If Monroe suspected he was going to do time, he would be compelled, and completely willing, to turn state's evidence against Tobias for a deal. If he turned on Tobias, he would name others; thus causing the police to issue arrest warrants, and arrest everyone named. In turn, Lindberg would be obliged to offer them a deal to turn state's evidence against Tobias; thus, he would gain the evidence he needed to bury Tobias Chandler. It was a chance in a lifetime to wrap up the whole drug network in his city. Tobias had been using the justice department at his disposal and flaunting the courts for years. Lindberg wanted Tobias. All the others meant nothing to him.
Tobias listened to what Frank was saying, and then hung up the phone.
Rochelle pretended to be preoccupied with the television program, but she could tell Tobias was extremely worried about something. We'll go down together, he had said, and she wondered at his statement. Was the drug cartel in Columbia unhappy with him, or did he mean the police were on to him? Either way, it gave her a surge of adrenaline to know that he was experiencing just a dab of the fear he had inflicted upon her over the past years. Nothing would make her happier than to see him arrested on charges for whatever it was that he might be guilty of perpetrating. Perhaps there was light at the end of the tunnel after all.
When the television program ended, she went upstairs. Tobias came up much later, showered and lay down beside her. She expected him to reach out for her as usual for his nightly sexual activity. Instead, he lay still on his back for a long time, eventually tossing and turning restlessly. She knew he was preoccupied with whatever was on his mind after the telephone conversation.
Rochelle went to sleep, blessed with relief that Tobias was too absorbed to bother with her.
THE COMING MORNING, IRRITABLE and sullen, Tobias packed a bag. “You are not to leave the house while I'm gone,” he ordered, the worry lines on his forehead having grown deeper since last night.
He had lost weight over the past few weeks, having to tighten his belt. He hadn't minded so much losing weight since his paunch needed some reduction, but it bothered him that the worry lines in his face had aged him considerably. Wanting to hide some of the new wrinkles that seemed to spring up in his face overnight, he stopped shaving and started growing a beard, it as black as night with traces of gray. Rochelle not only hated its sandpaper abrasiveness against her face and body, but she hated the way Tobias looked. It made him look diabolical, frightening, and more dangerous than previously.
“Tobias, what will I do here twenty-four hours a day? Surely, you don't expect me to sit here all that time and do nothing.”
“I do expect it, and I damn well will have you locked in your room if you even look like you're going to disobey me. There'll be no more running away like you did before.”
“What if I need something from the store?”
“Then you send one of the boys. I am warning you, Rochelle, I will not tolerate any more of your foolishness. If you ever attempt to do something like you did before, I will not be so forgiving. I'll bury you if I have to.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“I'll be gone five or six days, maybe seven at the most. A jet is being sent for me,” he added, his suitcase in his hand. At the bedroom door, he turned and looked at her several moments, a hard frown further marring his rough features just before he walked out.
After he had sufficient time to leave the house, Rochelle looked out the window, watching the limo roll down the drive. She wanted to call Remy, but decided to wait lest the guards be suspicious at her calling so soon after Tobias's departure.
Downstairs, while the cook served her breakfast, she scanned the pages of the newspaper, looking for someone named Monroe who was on trial for… whatever it was. In the local section, she found it. The charges against him were for smuggling drugs into the country. There wasn't much written, and no reference was made to Tobias directly.
Sources say Monroe Tatum is tied to the Columbia drug cartel in conjunction with several prominent residents in Miami. The mayor's office has issued an all out crackdown on drug trafficking between the two factions, and the state attorney's office is proceeding with an extensive investigation into allegations against possible suspects attached to the drug trade.
Rochelle read the article, and then read it again. She recalled what Tobias had said on the phone. If Monroe goes down, we go down with him. He had indicated concern over Judge Salvador being away on vacation, the judge obviously one of Tobias's reliable sources within the justice system. She gathered that Tobias must have been paying bribes to Judge Salvador and others to prevent prosecution of associates.
If Tobias failed to do his job, then the organization would have too many weak links that could curtail the smooth functioning of their operation. The meetings Tobias conducted with men who came to his study suggested he likely headed the entire Miami drug operation for the cartel. If Tobias fell short in his responsibilities, it could wipe out their entire Miami network. Everything Rochelle had learned about Tobias confirmed everything her parents had told her, or at least tried to.
Rochelle was thinking of calling Remy when the phone rang around eleven o'clock. Remy informed her she had in a new shipment with some adorable dresses for the changing season.
“I can't come down, Remy,” Rochelle said unhappily. “Tobias has left the country for five or six days and he doesn't want me to go out while he's gone. I will see you when he returns. Maybe you won't sell everything by then.”
“I'll choose a couple of things I think you'll like and save them,”
Remy said, hanging up the phone. Immediately, she picked it up again, and dialed Michael's number.
“Mr. Matheson, Mrs. Chandler asked that I inform you her husband will be out of the country for five or six days.”
“Thank you, Remy.”
Michael immediately called his men together to implement their plans.