CHAPTER TWENTY

The next day, Mick and Charles arrived at Deuce’s gorgeous home with the expectation of either finding him okay and not involved at all, or they would find the house empty, and he wasn’t home. He wasn’t home, but the house wasn’t empty.

Although they flew in, one of Mick’s fleet of Escalades he kept in various cities was waiting for him at the airport. And although this was supposed to just be a visit, Charles found it instructive that Mick was suited up in his long white coat, black trousers, and black turtleneck as if he was going to battle. Charles didn’t say anything, but it made him even more alert that nothing was without risk with Mick.

They drove the distance out to Deuce’s place and Mick had a key to get in. They entered, locked the door, and then walked around calling his name and looking for him.

“I didn’t know Deuce was a neat freak,” Charles said as they walked around.

“He’s always been that way,” said Mick as they walked down the hall toward his master bedroom.

But when they realized the door was closed when no other bedroom doors had been closed, they pulled out their weapons and moved to the side.

“Deuce, you in there?” Mick called out. When he didn’t hear a sound, he slowly turned the knob and then pushed the door open with forcefulness. They then stepped in, aiming their weapons.

But the bed was made up and Deuce wasn’t in it.

“Apparently he said he was going to Africa like I thought he said,” Mick said.

“Listen,” said Charles.

That was when Mick heard it too. It was muffled, coming from behind the sofa on the other side of the room. Mick motioned for Charles to go on the left side while he went right. And when they walked around the sofa, they were astonished. A woman with two teenager sons were on the floor, their hands and feet bound by rope and their mouths shut by duct tape.

“What the fuck,” said Mick.

Charles got down and took the tape off of the mouth of the woman.

“Don’t hurt my children,” she cried.

“We won’t hurt you. Who are you?”

“My name is Connie. Connie Fourtaine.”

When Mick and Charles heard that last name, they were stunned and looked at each other. That bastard Parker Fourtaine was telling the truth? He claimed Deuce had kidnapped his family and was holding them while he did Deuce’s bidding, but how could that be true?

Mick was especially floored. “Who tied you up?”

“A group of men. We don’t know any of’em.”

“Did they have a leader?”

“Yes. He said he has my husband. He said if my husband doesn’t do whatever he wants, he’ll kill us.”

“Did he give a name?”

“No sir. But I heard one of his men call him Duke or Deuce or a name like that.”

Mick’s heart dropped.

“The leader. Describe him,” Charles said.

“He was kind of tall I think,” she said, trying to remember. “And older. He was an older man. Oh, and he was African-American,” she added, and that was all they needed to hear. She was describing Deuce!

Mick and Charles looked at each other. “What do you make of this?” Charles asked.

And then, before any other words could be spoken, they could hear the sound of somebody kicking in the front door.

“Stay quiet,” Mick ordered the family as he and Charles rushed up front just as the door gave way and three men entered.

Mick was able to take out two men before they could get off a shot, but the other two men got off several rounds, forcing Mick and Charles to retreat. But they kept shooting too, keeping the men at bay. Until Mick pulled an object out of his tricked-out long white coat, tossed it toward the door where it made a colorful flare that caused the men to start shooting at that disturbance, and that allowed Mick and Charles to come out of retreat and begin firing again. Mick was even running toward them firing nonstop, taking out both men.

But as soon as the shooting stopped, they still heard shooting. But this time it was from the back of the house. Specifically where that family was housed!

Mick and Charles took off in that direction, their hearts hammering for that family. But when they got to the master bedroom, the shooting had stopped. They saw where it came from: the bedroom window had been busted out. They hurried around that sofa. And that was when they saw the entire Fourtaine family deceased. The mother and her two teenage sons all shot dead.

It took something out of Charles. “Ah man !” he cried out.

But Mick looked out of that window and then jumped out of it. He ran to the end of the backyard and looked side to side but saw no one. He ran to the front of the house. He saw the car that the four dead gunmen had apparently drove, but he didn’t see anybody or anything else. He ran to the end of the driveway, but whomever had killed that family was nowhere to be seen. Then he ran into the house, stepping over the bodies at the front door, and searched it upside down. He knew the house well: he had purchased it for Deuce. But no one but he and Charles were alive in that home.

Even Mick was befuddled. Because he knew Deuce wouldn’t be involved in this shit. He just knew it. But this was his house. And he was on “vacation.” Mick crouched down just to regain his composure. All of this was beginning to take a severe toll on him.