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“We were wondering how Mr. Woodson found all his witnesses.”
“He solicited help from someone influential in the Haitian community.”
“Do you know who?”
“Yes, wait a moment, I have his name right here.” They heard papers shuffle, “Here it is. He’s in Miami, a businessman. Marc Dessaline.”
Hunter looked at Andre, then said on the phone to Grant, “Thanks, Kenneth.”
“Call me Ken. You’re welcome.” He hung up.
“Well, well,” Hunter said.
Andre said, “First thing tomorrow? We go down there and pay a visit.”
“Yep. Tonight we have to eat lobster.”
“I like the way you prioritize.”
~*~
When Ariel left Sawgrass Mills and drove to get Denson’s money, she thought about calling Hunter, but decided to play it as ordered. No cops. This was Pansy’s wellbeing and she wouldn’t take chances with that. She took an hour to reach Denson’s home and locate the money buried in the back yard. It was under a waist-high concrete birdbath. When Ariel pushed it over, the small moneybox was there in a square hole. She didn’t open it, just took it to the car, checked the address where she needed to deliver it, and drove away.
The address where they held Pansy was located in Hialeah, in a rundown neighborhood with empty homes, loose trash blowing across the streets, hungry-looking stray dogs wandering the alleys looking for food of any kind, and people sitting on porches drinking and smoking.
Ariel drove by the address to look it over: A small white stucco house with overgrown foliage, and a light on inside that she could see through the curtain over the picture window. No cars anywhere.
She parked two blocks behind the house, and walked towards it. Ariel eased into the alley that ran behind the house, and peeked around the corner of the neighbor’s fence to the unfenced back yard of the white house.
The back door was open, with only a screen door in place. She saw no movement inside, heard no noises. She watched for any movement and any sign of Pansy. After ten minutes, she couldn’t shake the growing feeling of dread, and decided to return to the car. She would park in front of the house, leave the money on the porch and wait in the Ford for Pansy to come out. Her nerves worked overtime as she turned to leave.
Ringo Bazin stood at the end of the alley, with Denson beside him.
Ariel raced off like a frightened deer and ran straight through the back door of the empty house, tearing the screen off the hinges. She hurried down the hall to the front door and jerked it open just as Ringo and two others reached the back and hurried into the house. They didn’t yell for her to stop, but instead were as silent as ghosts as they closed the distance on their prey.
As Ariel raced out the front, Denson came around the corner of the house. She leaped off the porch and sprinted through the open gate into the street, where cars screeched to a stop and honked horns as she dodged between two of them and slid across the hood of another to go rolling on the asphalt and coming up running.
Ringo made a call on his phone and motioned with his hands for the others to cut her off if she went left or right. He smiled when hanging up the phone, and slowed to a walk.
She covered three more zigzag blocks and started across traffic, when a van slowed and a woman waved for her to get inside. “Hurry!” The woman said. Ariel glanced over her shoulder and saw a man still pursuing her. “They are coming!” The woman said, motioning with her hand to get in the van.
Ariel grabbed the handle on the sliding side door, opened it and hopped inside. The woman sped away as the door closed. A voice said, “Now, witch, sit and b
e still.” It was Marc Dessaline, in the rear seat.
Ariel grabbed the handle to open the door, but it had locked when the driver accelerated. Dessaline pointed, “Sit.”
She sat. They rode in silence, and Ariel looked at the driver’s profile. It took a moment, but recognition came: this is the woman who was Marinette Bois Sèch.
Dessaline said, “I am taking you to Pansy Brown.”
“Is she all right?”
Dessaline didn’t answer as he pulled his phone out, hit the numbers and said, “Meet us there.”
Ariel said, “Why are you telling Bazin to meet us?”
Dessaline raised his eyebrows, “You know this?”
