Straight Arrow

By Dan Allex

The story starts the first blockade of many that are orchestrated to keep the owners of a detective agency from testifying against a Colombian drug cartel. Based in Las Vegas, the detective agency was instrumental in discovering a methamphetamine manufacture and distribution. They agree to testify against a drug lord's henchmen, because they felt it was the right thing to do. The detective agency people are slammed with intimidation, kidnapping and even assassination for their good deed.

It takes a twist of plan changing as the agency owners and their friends are driven to skirt the law and go on the offensive. The story is a battle between good and evil that shows that maybe sometimes you can't always be that good. The heroes wrestle with ethics standards and solve their dilemma to the best of their ability, under the circumstances. Their story and struggles make for a compelling, action packed mystery.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dan Allex
• Release date: Nov 3, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311860439

Dan Allex

Dan Allex (Dan Kubicek) was born in Austin, Minnesota. I am retired and enjoy exploring the mountains of Colorado after moving here 5 years ago. My hobbies are golf, fly fishing, pheasant hunting, skiing and reading.My wife and I had lived in Las Vegas, Nv. for twenty-five years, and recently relocated to Denver to be closer to our son and his family.I enjoy telling a story, and I hope people get some enjoyment from my books. Visit danallex-com1.webs.com/ for more information about the upcoming mysteries and the author.Books in print are available now at danallex-com1.webs.com where you can order direct for less.Take a look at Chisago Creek, my latest book. It is a Minnesota mystery that is a page-turner. If you visit to Austin, stop in and browse at Sweet Reads, my favorite bookstore.

Book preview

Prologue

The rain was so persistent that the paved parking lot was becoming a moving pool of water searching for the partially plugged drains on it’s lower end. The wind blew the downpour in sheets so the torrents looked like they were coming from the West instead of above.

Emery Winston moved from his SUV toward his office building fighting the walls of water and wind that drove against him. The roar of the deluge and pelting rain dampened his hearing and sight, but not his basic instincts that allowed him to feel motion over his left shoulder, as he swiped his security card to unlock the heavily fortified front door.

When he jerked his head to the right, he heard the silenced round leave its barrel and felt the sting of the low velocity bullet rip through his left ear.

He was now on autopilot and continued his pivot to the right while he lowered his head, as another slug ricocheted off the building in front of him. His right leg swung around, as his right hand reached up and grabbed the shooter’s wrist in time to misdirect a third shot. The momentum of the turn and his shifting weight drove his foot into the shooter’s right leg, midway between knee and ankle. Both men heard the snap of bone, but only one cried out in pain.

Chapter 1

Two days earlier

Emery Winston wasn’t a Las Vegas native. He was a transplant like most of the other residents that had invaded the desert oasis in the last ten years. His eight years of service in the Marine Corps had molded and hardened his skills in investigation, as well as combat. Most of his military records were classified because he was recognized by his superiors and drafted into special ops training early in his career. He was no stranger to the sand and heat of the desert, because many of his missions took place there.

He was a farm boy at heart with Midwest values, so it was no surprise that he hit it off with retired sheriff, Dave Johnson, and his detective agency cohorts at Eye of the Owl Detective Agency. Emery and Jim Roberts, from the agency, had worked together on some cases earlier, and that was why Jim had called him in desperation a little over a year ago to help Eye of the Owl with a case that had involved a local meth dealer and his manufacturing plant.

Dave Johnson had retired from his Lake County, Minnesota Sheriff job, and he had worked on cases with Jim Roberts, from the FBI. The two of them along with Willard Olson, another retiree, and Dave’s next door neighbor, had relocated to Las Vegas, Nevada, where they opened up a detective agency named Eye of the Owl. Before retiring from his FBI job, Jim had worked two cases with Emery Winston, who had his own company in Las Vegas, called Black Arrow, that specialized in security training and consulting.

As Eye of the Owl acquired more clients, some of them required specialized security needs, and Jim thought of Emery and his company.

It was a good match of talents, as well as temperaments. The guys got along splendidly, and their businesses complimented each other.

Emery had more than a feeling that he was being followed. Whoever was out there tailing him was good-so good he had yet to get an unobstructed view of their face. He had never thought of himself as paranoid, but lately he had all the symptoms. The meeting he had called with Jim Roberts and the Eye of the Owl members was because of desperation.

Gina, arrived first at the detective agency in Henderson on Horizon Ridge. It was her Saturday to cover the phones and reception desk until one pm, when Dave’s son, Mike would come in. She liked working the shift, and had planned ahead for the short shift by wearing her new tennis outfit. It wasn't a hundred per cent dress code, but so far none of the guys had complained before. She and her girlfriend had a court reserved at the Henderson Sports Club off of Sunset, where they were members.

As much as she hated to do it, one of her bosses, Dave Johnson, had asked her to stop at the Krispy Kreme drive through for a dozen glazed donuts for the meeting with Emery Winston. She didn’t understand what it was with these guys she worked with and their affection for the sweet delights. She could deny herself the sugared treats, but it was hard when they constantly had a dozen sitting in the conference room next to the coffee maker. A girl could only be so good.

She parked in the agency lot and walked around to the passenger side of her Volkswagen convertible to retrieve the box of donuts. Willard Olson swerved into the parking lot and had trouble controlling his Jeep Wrangler as he saw Gina bending into her car for the Krispy Kremes and exposing a glimpse of her florescent yellow tennis undies. He smiled and pulled up next to her. Working with Gina was always a treat.

Gina greeted him with, Willy, how yah doing? You and Helen still on that honeymoon?

Willard blushed easily and Gina knew it. He and his new wife, Helen, had recently been married in Minnesota, and most of the agency employees had attended, with the exception of Gina, who stayed and covered the office.

Gina, the honeymoon is officially over, and I’ve been painting our condo for most of the last week, while Helen shops for new furniture.

I like the way that woman works, Willard.

Yah, me too. Painting isn’t my favorite pastime, but as I get done with a room, I can see the difference and have to agree it needed the change.

Willard took the donut box from Gina and she unlocked the front door. She turned on the lights, computers and air conditioning, as Willard placed the box in the conference room and started up the coffee maker.

Dave Johnson was the next one to arrive and chose the parking lot closest to the backdoor, with Jim Roberts right behind him. Emery Winston was still two blocks away and surprised when the car he thought was following him turned off on Eastern. He had no way of knowing that as the light changed another vehicle pulled on to Horizon and took over the surveillance.

When Winston turned into the Eye of the Owl agency, the chase car continued on Horizon and phoned in the location of the vehicle he was assigned to.

Everyone had their coffee and donuts and the small talk was over.

When there was an absence of chit chat, it was Dave that got down to business and started the meeting with, Even though the coffee and donuts are good, we gathered here this morning for more than that. Emery, I’ll turn the floor over to you. Take it away.

"It’s been about a year now since our case with the meth dealers and their Colombian connection. The main trial starts next week, without the local ringleader, Sam Rafferty, who was cut down by an assassin’s bullet. As you all know we will be expected to testify if the prosecutor calls us. The trial is for all the drug dealers and Rafferty’s men that were caught in the net laid down by the DEA, FBI and Metro. Most of these people have clammed up after Rafferty was taken out with a well placed bullet. There are some deals in the air, as we get closer to the trial date. Reduced jail time and the witness protection program have been mentioned, but no one has dared to open up so far. There are a couple of them leaning our way, but are still negotiating. I have had some pressure put on me not to testify in the form of a letter that was in my office p.o. box.

He pulled a single page out of a folder and passed it around the table.

Jim Roberts was the first to look at it and read out loud, Testify at YOUR own peril.

As the sheet went around the table, Winston added, "I can’t say for sure I’m being followed, but I have that feeling. If I am being tailed, it is a sophisticated group that is following me. Whenever I am about to identify a vehicle that is birddogging me, it peels off and is replaced by one or two others. I wanted to let you know because I need your help to single out and identify the source of the threats and surveillance.

Gina had stopped at the postal substation at Green Valley Parkway and Sunset to retrieve the mail from their p.o. box. She had the small pile on the conference table in front of her, and was using a letter opener on the envelopes, as Winston was talking.

She stopped abruptly and softly said, Oh my God!

The room was quiet and all eyes were on Gina, as she held up the single sheet with the words, Testify at YOUR own peril, in dark block letters.

It was Emery that responded first, Oh shit! Sorry guys. Looks like you’ve officially joined the party.

Jim slammed his empty coffee cup on the table and said, They’ve picked the wrong people to try to intimidate. It’s good we are all here together because it’s time to lay out a plan of action and meet this threat head on.

Chapter 2

Howie Peterson sat on a stool with a laptop and a cup of coffee, as he reviewed his monthly expense report. The large pot behind him on the kitchen stove was on a slow simmer exuding the subtle mixture of aromas of the Three Brothers, signature pizza sauce. Garlic, onion, oregano, basil, rosemary, were all there rolled together with the tomatoes, along with a couple of secret ingredients, that the brother’s mother made them promise to never divulge. He liked what he saw on the report. Good sales cured all ills. Their delivery business was booming, and if the rumors were true, the nail salon next door would be closing soon, and he had already been talking with the landlord about expanding the pizza shop to next door. This would open up a larger seating area that they needed desperately.

His bottom line was good, but more seating would allow them to serve more beer and wine, which was the key to an even higher profit margin.

The pizza business was cutthroat, and they had to take every advantage they could, because offering a quality product like theirs was not cheap.

As he was enjoying the chance to run the figures he paused to make a trip to the coffee pot for a refill. It was then that he noticed the same Pathfinder still parked at the back of the lot facing the street, and it looked like the engine was off. The driver was talking on his cell just like he had been earlier.

He thought it could be a salesman waiting for one of the shops in the strip center to open. The license plates on the SUV were from California, which wasn’t unusual in Las Vegas.

Howie had talked with Gina the night before and she said that there was a business meeting scheduled for today, and from the cars he saw in the Eye of the Owl parking lot, it must be going on right now. The guy in the Pathfinder wasn’t breaking any laws, and had every right to park where he wanted, but the pizza man jotted down his license number just in case. He’d be talking with Gina when she came over for lunch, and he could mention the guy then.

He paused before he went back to the counter where he had his paperwork sitting, and he noticed the observer in the parking lot now looking through binoculars toward the direction of the Eye of the Owl parking lot. Howie watched as the guy looked like he was jotting something down on a notepad. His first thought was, this guy was doing what he just got done doing-writing down license numbers.

The call to Gina couldn’t wait until lunch. He dialed her cell and she picked up on the third ring.

Hi, Howie. You miss me?

Of course, but that’s not why I called. I’ve got a guy over here at the end of my parking lot in a gray Pathfinder that’s been sitting facing your place eyeballing it. He’s been here for at least a half hour, and now I noticed him using binoculars. He appears to be writing down something. I thought you guys would want to know.

Thanks, Howie. Probably nothing, but can you make out his license number?

Yah, I already jotted it down.

Howie gave it to her, and Gina decided it best not to mention the threat they had gotten in the mail.

She thanked him and asked if they were still on for lunch, and Howie said, Of course.

See you shortly after one. I won’t be able to eat much-have to keep it light, like a small salad. I brought some fruit from home too that I’ll share. I’ve got some tennis going at two, so I can’t have lunch bogging me down.

He could sense a different tone in her voice that was more tense than her usual happy go lucky sound. Howie unlocked the drawer underneath the cash register and pulled out his Ruger 9mm to check it’s action and make sure the extra clip was loaded and still in the drawer. He knew all would be in order, but it still gave him a secure feeling to hold the cold steel and look at the shell in the chamber. He had been robbed once a few years ago at gunpoint, and it was on Gina’s recommendation that he had purchased the handgun. She and Dave Johnson had taken him to the range for a crash course on how to operate it. Once he was familiar with the gun and what it could do, he had applied for a conceal carry permit, that he was granted. The course he had taken for the permit spelled out in no uncertain terms that shooting someone was the last possible option that anyone should use. No matter who you were, and what the circumstances, a gunfight always became a messy mountain of paperwork and legal problems. He never imagined himself having a gun in his place of business, but he also never thought he’d be helpless, staring down the barrel of a revolver, as his cash register was emptied.

Gina had been in and out of the conference room listening when she could and taking care of the phones. She had stepped out to answer her cell, and now came back in the room, and like always her presence demanded attention.

Willard couldn’t help, but his mind replayed the earlier scene of her exposing her backside with flaming yellow underpants. He started doodling on his notepad in hopes of redirecting his thoughts.

As Willard struggled to turn his concentration elsewhere, Gina did it for him when she said, Gentlemen, we may have a problem.

Chapter 3

The hatred that Ramos had for the agency and its people was fueled by his two years on the run. As he sat in his Pathfinder across the street he relived the hardships he had endured because of Black Arrow’s Emery Winston, and the Eye of the Owl investigators. They had destroyed his beautiful new meth lab, and along with it his substantial income stream, along with the perks that went with it.

He had been in charge of the daily operations of the lab, and his boss in Vegas had been Sam Rafferty, a local businessman that had originally put up the finances to fund the original lab, in an abandoned mine. That first meth lab had to be vacated because of the meddling of the Eye of the Owl investigators. When things got too hot and the authorities were moving in on their new plant, Rafferty had fled to Colombia to avoid arrest.

Ramos now reported directly to Orlando Gottera, the Colombian connection of the defunct LV operation. The drug lord had a score to settle with both Eye of the Owl and Black Arrow, who he felt were instrumental in the kidnapping of Rafferty directly out of Colombia, and bringing him back to the U.S. for prosecution. It as a matter of embarrassment for Gottera, the way that the Black Arrow operatives invaded his kingdom and plucked one of his partners out from under his grasp. He would have revenge and hopefully regain some of his stature as leader to be feared. He couldn’t stand for outside forces picking off his people on his home turf.

The upcoming trial in federal court in Las Vegas included several of the local meth dealers, along with workers that were gathered up in the raid of the plant.