Cluster Phuk

By J. P. Wolfe

In the small town of Punta Gorda, Florida, young Bobby Weeks messes around in his dads stuff and finds an old fireman game. He takes it but plans to return it later, not knowing that hes just set a plot in motion that could get him and his whole family killed. Soon, some thugs called Dog and Jug come knocking, and the trouble begins.

Detective Gill Phuk and his partner Hattie Shanks are the top detectives of their division, not that theres often much to do in their quiet community. When things start to go a bit haywire, theyre called in to investigate. Theyre used to dealing with a colorful mix of characters, but when a multiple murder occurs, its all hands on deck.

Bobby never could have guessed a silly game could cause so much destruction, but he also probably didnt know his dad, Bill, was designing a search engine for the military. Phuk and Shanks have trouble of their own dealing with a notorious criminal known as the Commander. Thugs and suspicious beauties run amok in this small historic town as two tough detectives try to solve a mystery, stop a crime, and save the day.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Nov 2, 2016
• ISBN: 9781480836341

J. P. Wolfe

J. P. Wolfes first novel was inspired by a single name. A craftsman by trade, his crime fiction is a thinly disguised portrayal of modern society, delving into human behaviors when confronted with disturbing, catastrophic events. Learn more at jpwolfeauthor.com.

Book preview

Copyright © 2016 J. P. Wolfe.

Cover photo, Moon Over The Bridge, by Don Kerr.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Archway Publishing

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.archwaypublishing.com

1 [phone]

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4808-3635-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-3634-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016916492

Archway Publishing rev. date: 1/20/2017

Contents

PROLOGUE

1 THAT DARN KID

2 THE BRACE

3 THE TROUBLES WITH PHUKNSHANKS

4 CRUNCH TIME Friday Morning

5 THE HUNT Friday Afternoon

6 WORKING THE SYSTEM Friday Afternoon

7 ROGUE SEARCH Saturday Evening

8 THE REPLACEMENT ACT Friday Afternoon

9 THE SEARCH FOR TRUTH Friday Afternoon

10 HIGH ANXIETY Saturday Afternoon

11 THE HILLS HAVE EYES Saturday Evening

12 SHANKSGIVING Saturday Morning

13 THE SCENE Sunday Morning

14 UP A CREEK Sunday Morning

15 IN THE TANK Monday Morning

16 ALL ABOUT THE BENJAMINS Monday Morning

17 THE MISTAKE Monday Morning

18 LEAD ON Monday Morning

19 THE MOVES Monday Afternoon

20 WEB OF DECEIT Monday Afternoon

21 SUSPICIOUS MINDS Monday Afternoon

22 BAD DAY Monday Evening

23 ALL THE CARDS Monday Evening

24 LOOKING BACK Tuesday Morning

25 HE CALL Tuesday Morning

26 OVERLOOK Tuesday Morning

27 THE DIG Wednesday Morning

28 BIG PLANS Tuesday Morning

29 QUICKER THAN THE EYE Tuesday Noon

30 EYES ON THE TARGET Tuesday Noon

31 END AROUND Tuesday Afternoon

32 PLAN B Tuesday Afternoon

33 BREAKOUT Tuesday Night

34 GATHERING MOSS Wednesday Morning

35 BEHEADER OF SOULS Wednesday Morning

36 FYI Wednesday Morning

37 ODD MAN OUT Wednesday Early Evening

38 ONE DOWN Wednesday Night

39 THE SET UP Wednesday Night

40 ROUND TWO Thursday Morning 12:30 AM

41 THE CON Thursday Morning

42 REUNITED Wednesday Morning

43 BAD NEWS Thursday Afternoon

44 THE PREP Thursday Afternoon

45 THE DROP Thursday Night

46 PLANNING AND STRATEGY Friday Morning

47 THE EXCHANGE Friday Afternoon

48 END GAME Friday Evening

49 NO GOOD DEED GOES UNPUNISHED Monday Morning

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

This work is

dedicated to my wife, Kathleen, whose love and support made it possible.

PROLOGUE

T his is a graphic profile of two detectives in the robbery – homicide division in a small town in Florida. Punta Gorda sits next to the water on the Gulf of Mexico. Gill Phuk is a straight-forward, headstrong and committed-to-his-job around-the-clock kind of cop. Though he isn’t perfect, who is? As problems arise the way they do in all our lives, he finds a way to cope. As a detective held to a higher level of professionalism, he finds himself anchored to a stern reality. Sometimes choices are few.

His partner is a no-nonsense woman whose career came at a cost. Hattie Shanks’ family is from the Everglades on the farthest southern tip. The family ran liquor and drugs from the 1930’s through the 1950’s. The family is well versed in evading the law. So when the youngest daughter of seven kids decided to be a cop, it wasn’t well received. Her family loves and respects her, although contact remains a need to take advantage of her position. But in a pinch, she knows she can count on them if she gets backed into a corner.

Phuk and Shanks are the top detectives on their squad. They frequently wind up in the mix with some colorful characters. Most of the time, it’s robbery. A lot of elderly victims whose oxygen tanks and wheelchairs go missing.

Punta Gorda Florida isn’t exactly riddled with violent crime. Murder in this city averages less than one per year. Five in last fifteen years. So when one does occur, high priority attention is given to the situation. Small towns and retirement communities filled with the rich, there is some white-collar crime. A multiple murder case, however, makes the news service and law enforcement pay close attention.

1

THAT DARN KID

R oman and Betty Weeks’ retirement had been mostly uneventful, but that would soon end. Little did they know this would be the worst Saturday of their lives. The Weeks’ family was a close-knit group. Roman and his wife had three wonderful grandchildren. The oldest of the three was a tad rambunctious. He had a bit of a problem with authority figures. How unusual for a pre-teen. When Bobby took something he shouldn’t have, he realized too late that he should have left it where he found it.

At his father’s office in Port Charlotte across the bay, he unknowingly set in motion a chain of events that caused trouble for his whole family; trouble that would stay with him forever. But it gave his therapist and him lots to discover and talk about.

Bobby liked to go through his dad’s lab just off his office. In a locker he knew to stay out of, he was sure he’d find something good. His dad didn’t know Bobby figured out the combination to the lock – his brother’s, sister’s and his birthdays. Bobby couldn’t help but think how dumb that an executive would use his kid’s birthdays for a combination. Lame.

As Bobby went through the electronics in the locker, he thought, Wow, nothing here but a crappy old game, Fireman Fireman. It looks like it’s twenty years old. Babies drop from a burning building and bounce from one fireman’s net to another to safety. This ought to keep me busy for at least ten minutes. He put it in his pocket and searched on. Nothing else there.

His father, Bill Weeks, strode into his office and saw his son walking out of his lab. Bobby, what are you doing here?

Bobby saw his dad and reminded him, I told you about the teachers’ conference at two-thirty today.

Bobby had an appointment in Port Charlotte to see his shrink at four. With concern, his dad asked, Are you on your way to see Dr. Evans?

Bobby, with a look of disenchantment on his face, said, I don’t like her. Everything I say to her she said is related to mom, like my mother is my only problem. She’s stupid. I don’t think she knows what the hell she’s talking about.

Hey, watch the language, mister! Then Bill’s face took on a look of concern. Are you going to your grandparents after your visit with Dr. Evans?

As Bobby headed for the door. He answered back, kind of sassy, Where else would I go?

His dad reminded him he had school tomorrow and not to stay at up late with his games. Tomorrow is Friday. I’ll pick you up after school.

Bobby usually went to his grandparents’ after school. But Bobby wasn’t planning on going to his grandparents. Instead, he caught a cab to his buddy Ben’s house. They were gamers to the tenth power. They burned up hours on war games, especially the gory ones.

After grabbing chips and sodas, they went to Ben’s room. Bobby pulled the Fireman Fireman game from his backpack to show to his friend. Ben looked at it for two seconds and laughed out loud. Where did you get that thing? It must be forty years old!

Shuffling around a little nervous, he said, I found it at my dad’s office. I never saw it before. I think your right; it’s ancient.

Ben suggested they use it as a target for his wrist rocket. Bobby thought about it for a second. No, I’m keeping it. I kind of like it. It’s fun. Anyway, let’s play some Warcraft.

Hell, yeah! Let’s play. Ben always wants to play Warcraft.

They stayed up late enough that Bobby ended up staying the night. After several hours of gaming, the boys finally went to bed.

As Bobby laid there half-awake, he thought about his visit to Dr. Evans. She always seemed to try to make him feel like it was his own fault for his pessimistic thoughts concerning his parents and school and life in general. What really bummed him out was that he wasn’t even aware he was a pessimist. Not until that dumb-ass shrink put it in his head. Bobby hated that quack. He thought to himself, I think I will start making things up, things like I’m thinking about being a drug dealer, or brain surgeon. Or tell her he has strange sexual urges, like bestiality. That ought to slam her sphincter shut.

Just before he finally closed his eyes, his last thought was what he was going to do with the game he took from his father’s locker. He decided to put it back tomorrow. He’d leave school early and meet his dad at his office instead of being picked up at school. Then he would sneak the toy back and clear his conscience. Mabey he could find a way to get in without his dad knowing. He didn’t want him to find out he was in the locker. Maybe he would pull the fire alarm to get everyone out of the building. But, no. Maybe he would tell his father’s secretary, Angie, what he did and enlist her help in some way. He decided to play it by ear.

2

THE BRACE

L ou Sanders could make things happen when it came to the financial market. He was one of those who used his looks and charm for profit. He gained people’s trust in an attempt to take advantage of them. So, when approached by shady characters with get rich quick schemes, he grew suspicious. But when money is involved, people get a little crazy. And crazy is delivered on a surprisingly fast and large scale. Lou was learning that the cost of his ways would be costlier than he imagined.

Persons unknown hired him to find a young boy and take a toy from him. Not just any boy, but the son of his friend and customer, Bill Weeks. He was instructed to retrieve the toy only. The boy was not to be harmed in any way. Sanders subbed it out to his cousins, Dog and Jug Hill.

Dog and Jug Hill had been staking out Roman and Betty Weeks’ house for hours now. Jug, the younger of the two brothers, commented, How long are we going to sit here? I got to hit the can.

Dog was easily frustrated with his brother’s short attention span. Yeah, Sanders said others are also on this thing. We better get in there. I was hoping the kid would just stroll up. He was supposed to be here, according to Lou.

As the Hill brothers moved toward the house, they readied their weapons. These guys were from the Everglades, so their favorite weapon was a 14-inch Bowie knife. It is ideal for wilderness survival. They knocked on the front door. Betty Weeks answered with a big smile on her face. Yes, can I help you, gentlemen?

Betty and Roman had a nice little ranch home in Bella Vista retirement village. Their house was on Golf Ridge Road.

Dog pushed past her and Jug followed. Who else is in the house, lady? Dog waved his blade at the woman when Roman walked briskly into the room. Jug approached the man with his knife in front of him as the brothers scanned the room.

There was silence for a few seconds when Dog said to the couple, Where is your grandson, you old fart? We need to talk to him. The Hill brothers put on an act like they were hardcore maniacs.

Dog and Jug Hill come from the swamps. Their education was minimal. They liked being bullies and thieves. Their cousin hired them for some muscle for this contract that had come up. The Hill brothers had one job today. That stupid toy needed to be found, or Sanders would lose his cool. If they didn’t come back with the item soon, it would be their butts.

Betty Weeks was starting to get scared. To her, these young men with big knives were capable of anything. The way they threw their weight around like tough guys made Roman wanted to laugh. Roman grew up in Philly in the forty’s and fifty’s. In those days if someone wanted information from you, there would be blood on the floor within minutes of the bad guys’ arrival. We don’t know where he is, and I wouldn’t tell you if I did, Roman said with as much disdain as he could growl out.

Look, old man, we don’t want to hurt you or your wife, but we will. Believe me! Dog said, looking over to his brother. Jug knew that look meant to rough up Mrs. Weeks.

Jug grabbed Betty by the hair, forced her face down on the kitchen table, and put his blade to her neck. He looked at Roman and said, I’ll cut her head off, man. I’ll do it, mister.

No… stop, Roman screamed. His anger took over, and he said, Why don’t you guys get the hell out of here!

Jug grabbed Betty by the hair and forced her to the floor. Stop! Roman screamed, Look, we don’t know where he is. He could be at home or with friends, or anywhere. Please, let my wife go.

The Weeks’ house was decorated like an old farm house. Before moving to Punta Gorda, they lived in a small Kansas town called Ottawa. The furnishings, for lack of a better word, were junky. While Jug had Betty pinned down, she was within reach of an old hand-sickle gardening tool. When Jug let up the pressure on Betty’s head, she came up swinging, nearly taking the top of Jug’s head off.

At the same time, Roman bum rushed Dog and shoved him toward the wall behind him. Dog got the upper hand and shoved Roman to the corner of the room while Jug got control of Betty. Nice try, but oh, hell no! Dog said, Jug, cut her fingers off!

Roman made another attempt to get the upper hand by rushing Jug. Halfway toward Jug, Roman moved left to the pantry where he kept his shotgun. They realized what he was doing, but they weren’t fast enough. Roman pulled the gun from the cabinet. With wide eyes, they were looking down the barrel of a twelve-gauge pump action shotgun.

Freeze, assholes! Roman growled.

Jug threw up his hands and said, We just need to talk to Bobby, that’s all. Nobody needs to get hurt.

Roman looked at the two of them, one after the other and motioned to the door. Get the fuck out of our house.

Dog said, We need to find him. It’s really important.

Roman’s was pissed off now. You assholes couldn’t find water if you fell out of a boat. Now get the hell out! Roman motioned toward the door.

Dog and Jug just looked at them and then to each other. Dog shook his head. This isn’t over, old man!

Roman scowled and said, It better be.

The Hill brothers left the Weeks’ house unsatisfied and empty handed. They didn’t get what they came for. That left them a little worried about what would happen next.

When they get back to their truck, Jug asked, What now? We can’t call Sanders and tell him we came up empty. I’m pretty sure he’s going to be pissed, man!

We better get out of here for now. They’re probably calling the cops. Let’s go get a beer and figure out our next move.

Roman checked on Betty to see if they hurt her before he went outside. He wanted to get the tag number of the car and report to the police what had happened there. Not only for their safety but Bobby’s, too. Roman was too late to get their tags, but he saw what kind of truck they drove.

The police sent a patrol car. The Weeks’ gave them a report of what happened and a description of the truck. The officer told them to lock up and check the peephole before they open the door to strangers. Roman said, Is that all you can do, Officer? We were scared for our lives here, you know. And what about Bobby? He is the one they were after. Shouldn’t you follow up on that?

The cop said, There isn’t anything I can do about that. All I can officially do is file a report. That pissed Roman off, but there was little he could do about it.

He called his son, Bill, but Bill didn’t answer his phone. So he left a message. He said some guys were looking for Bobby, and they roughed them up a little. He told his son he was worried about him and Bobby, and that he should keep an eye out for a 4X4 pickup with a black camper shell.

3

THE TROUBLES WITH PHUKNSHANKS

G ill Phuk’s life had had its ups and downs; lately mostly downs. He had always considered himself lucky to be partners with Hattie. She was the brains, and Gill was the don’t mess around with us, or I’ll smash your face kind of guy. Hattie had come to like working with Gill. Neither one of them liked the nickname hung on them by their fellow officers, fucknshanks . It was a golf thing, as in they were always hitting into the woods.

Phuk’s and Shanks’ solve rate was the highest of the squad most months, but they had to deal with the ribbings. Both Phuk and Shanks were productive at their work. They both had great ethics and concern for the public’s wellbeing. Well, usually. Sometimes everybody seemed like a criminal when all you deal with is criminals. And with a wishy-washy attitude like that, the pressure created a need for clarity.

Or, that was Phuk’s excuse for the gambling problem that he had created. His borrowing twenty-thousand from a loan shark probably won’t have a positive outcome.

Where there is crime, there is a crime boss. The Commander liked to take advantage of desperate people. People who had few choices. So desperate choices were made. It all came down to who got there first and who would be accessible to use. Sometimes a police officer with a gambling problem was the only choice, a risky choice, and a daring exercise in futility. A risk he would have to take.

The Commander came from Russia in 1967. He was a Commander General in charge of weapons and munitions disposal for their military. He kept a few things here and there that wouldn’t be missed if it were otherwise to be destroyed. Right? WRONG. The bean counters were better at their jobs than he expected.

Making his way to America through Mexico, the Commander dropped the General part and worked his way to becoming a loan shark and pimp in Punta Gorda, Florida. Not exactly a hotbed of crime, just enough to keep busy. The Commander ran a small gambling establishment out of a florist shop that included a ten-thousand square foot warehouse connected to the back. He had a large room for playing poker, craps, and blackjack. There were six small apartments for the hookers to use. The Commander took 40% from the hookers. All in all, a small business.

Phuk started out okay. He won a little, got cocky and brave, then lost ten grand at craps. He went to the Commander