Cassandra (Fells Point Private Investigator Series) Read online

  She went into the restroom and waited several minutes before returning to the bar. “Rudy, thank you for covering for me.”

  “You are most welcome Rebecca. I take it you’re on the Monday to Wednesday evening shift.”

  “That’s right.”

  “So am I; so, I’ll check on you about halfway through your shift.”

  “Thanks, Rudy.”

  As she was cleaning up before the night bartender arrived, Rudy returned to the bar. “May I walk you to your car?”

  “I can’t leave until the night bartender reports for duty, but I do appreciate the offer.”

  “I’ll wait.” Rudy sat on one of the bar stools and drank a cup of coffee.

  “Hey Rudy are you looking for free drinks from our new bartender?”

  “Shelia, you know me too well. Shelia, this is Rebecca, our new bartender.”

  “Rebecca it’s nice to meet you. Glen said you have experience in tending. That’s great. Let me say I’ve never had this bar turned over to me in this condition. The last bartender expected me to clean up her mess.”

  “Thanks Shelia. I’ve been in that situation several times and it sucks.”

  Shelia laughed, “I hear ya, girl. Rudy, are you planning to stay or are you going to walk Rebecca to her car?”

  “Since it’s her first night, I thought it would be polite to walk her to the car.”

  “Rebecca, keep your eye on him. He’s our resident Don Juan.”

  Rebecca chuckled, as she took hold of Rudy’s extended elbow, “Shelia, thanks for the warning.”

  As they stepped onto the parking lot, Rudy held her back. “Glen asked me to let you know if you need to communicate anything to him do it through me.”

  Rebecca wasn’t about to believe Glen had told Rudy anything that he’d just purported. “Why would he ask you that? Can’t I just talk to him myself? I mean after all, I’m an employee just like you.”

  “Glen said you were sharp. He also said you wouldn’t buy my bullshit. I’m more than a dealer. Glen and I bought the casino together. Let’s just say I’m a silent owner. We made the decision that one us should work on the floor to get a bird’s eye view of the casino. I’m the appointed pigeon. I know Glen prefers his scotch in a brandy glass.”

  Rebecca laughed, “I’ve heard that about him. Wouldn’t that just rattle most scotch drinkers?”

  Rudy laughed as well. “I believe it would.”

  “When you took your break what did you see on the way to the restroom?”

  “I tucked my head into the kitchen and introduced myself. There were cartons marked ‘Fresh Vegetables’ stacked at the wall.”

  “Very good, what were you thinking when you saw them?”

  Rebecca batted her eyelashes at him. “Why sir, I don’t believe I know you well enough to respond to such a personal question. I don’t even know your last name.”

  Rudy chortled, “No one knows my last name. Additionally, Rudy is not my name.”

  “I see. Well then Rudy, when I saw those crates, my first thought was if they contained fresh vegetables they would wilt stacked against the wall all day.”

  “What else could they contain, that wouldn’t wilt?”

  “Money was my second thought.”

  “That delivery came in this morning. I believe the man you are living with delivered those crates. Rebecca, you are in serious danger.”

  “I know that Rudy, but until I can prove that a Federal Bureau of Investigation Agent is a part of a money laundering scheme, we’re stuck. Please believe me when I tell you, this man who is now my partner has smelled of dead fish from the moment I met him. We can’t just blow the whistle. If Grossman is a dirty cop, we’ll need enough evidence to put him away for a very long time. Do you have anyone you trust to look into the crates when they are delivered to make sure you know what’s in them?”

  “Grossman doesn’t let anyone close to his truck. My staff is too afraid of him to look into them.”

  “Rudy, who picks up the crates?”

  “One of our finance guys whose name I’ll keep from you for the moment, but I assure you he’s clean. His wife was threatened, so he does as he’s told.”

  “Rudy, I’m sure that Grossman has timed how long it should take me to drive which means I’m going to be late.”

  “Oh Rebecca, I am so sorry, I never gave that a thought. Go on and head to his house. I’ll walk you out each night when we can talk for a few minutes.”

  “Rudy, before I go, I want to transfer some photos I took with my cell phone. What’s your number?”

  After she transferred them to his phone, she erased them from her cell.

  Rudy was not a fool. “Rebecca, if you are afraid for Grossman to find those pictures, it’s time to call it quits and get the hell out of Atlantic City. Get in your car and get yourself out of harm’s way.”

  “I can’t leave tonight. My dog’s at Grossman’s house. Under no circumstance am I about to leave Brutus behind with that monster. Grossman leaves the house early in the morning, I think he put a tracking device on my car, so as soon as he leaves for work,” She giggled, “I’ll find the it and put it on someone else’s car and boogie out of town.“

  “Rebecca, call the casino and ask to speak to Glen or me, let us know you’re somewhere safe.”

  “Rudy, I can’t thank the two of you enough. I promise that I’ll call.”

  Chapter Three

  October 2001

  When she walked through the house door, Grossman was standing in the living room. His hands were clinched into fists and he sounded furious when he asked her, “Rebecca, just where the fuck have you been?” He stepped closer to her and she thought he was about to hit her with his fisted hand. She widened her feet to maintain her center of gravity. If he came at her, she would kick him in the groin.

  She knew that he had probably called the casino so there was no way he’d believe she’d stayed late. He knew the gas tank was full, so she couldn’t tell him she stopped for gas. She thought quickly and came up with something he might believe.

  “I was pulled over by the police. Apparently, I was driving over the speed limit. Bruce, are you going to question my every move?”

  Furiously he asked her, “Did he give you a ticket?”

  “No.”

  He was so angry; his eyes and veins were bulging out of his face. “Did he give you a warning?”

  “Bruce, he just told me to slow down. What has your panties in an uproar? I’m going to take Brutus out for a walk. Then we need to sit down and talk this thing through.”

  “I’ll walk with the two of you.”

  “Bruce, I think that would be nice.” She looked around and didn’t see her dog. “Where is Brutus?”

  “He’s upstairs in your bedroom.”

  Rebecca went upstairs to retrieve her dog. Brutus followed her down the stairs and stayed as far from Grossman as the small room allowed. Rebecca noticed her dog’s action, but said nothing, Rebecca casually put his leash on, and Grossman walked out the door with them. She made every effort to look calm, even though she was actually preparing herself for a physical fisticuff.

  In her mind, Grossman had become delusional. He commanded her every action and thought. Brutus typically walked at her left ankle in the correct heel position; however, when Grossman positioned himself to her right, Brutus moved to her right to walked between his master and Grossman.

  That move on her dog’s part indicated, he was in full alert. They engaged in nonessential chitchat about the weather,

  It’s a lovely evening for a walk.

  Rebecca casually told him, “Yes it is,” while her mind was racing, plotting an escape route. If she told him that she needed to run out to the store for some feminine products, he’d want to join her. She wondered if she could rise in the middle of the night on the pretense that Brutus was ill. Her mind giggled, if Brutus was suffering from diarrhea, Grossman would not follow her outside.

  “We should walk more often. It
’s good exercise.”

  She looked at him and smiled, “Yes it is.”

  As the two of them walked Brutus, she casually asked Bruce, “Do you want to hear about my first night at work?”

  He let out a guttural chuckle, “Of course, I do honey. Tell me all about it.”

  “It was quiet. I think I may have made $5.00 in tips. That’s pretty shabby, eh?”

  “Maybe you’re not a good bartender. Quit that job tomorrow.”

  “Tell you what. I’m not scheduled until Saturday, but I’ll drive over tomorrow and turn in my resignation.” Rebecca crossed her fingers behind her back that Grossman believed her. If he did, she’d take Brutus, drive to the casino, let someone know a family emergency called her home. She could then leave town.

  “I can go for that. I’m not the kind of man who wants his wife to work.”

  While I’m not your wife, I can play along until tomorrow, when I leave to turn in my resignation to the Chariot, and get out of town. “Consider it done. I’ll drive there tomorrow.”

  When they returned to the house, Rebecca removed Brutus’ leash. She hoped that Grossman did not notice that she had taken off his collar as well. If things got ugly, she didn’t want him to be able to choke her dog with his collar.

  “Rebecca, I left the wine bottle on the kitchen counter. Why don’t you pour some wine while I look for something on television? We’ll cuddle here on the sofa watching a little television before you lock yourself in the bedroom.”

  She told herself to hang in there. While she wanted to rip his eyes from his head, she knew she had to play along with him, so she answered, “Sure that would be nice.”

  Rebecca assessed the situation while she poured two glasses of wine. It wasn’t good. She’d parked her car on the road against the curb in front of his house, so he could leave for work without going through the process of moving her car first. If she fed him enough wine and bullshit, she just might get out of this house tonight. She’d set her purse on a small table placed just inside the door. The key was in her pocket. As soon as he was sound asleep, she’d leave.

  Rebecca put a false smile on her face and turned around holding both glasses of wine in her hands. She hadn’t heard him enter the kitchen, but when she started toward the living room, he was standing in front of her with a gun in his hand, aimed at her chest.

  “Bruce, what the fuck are you doing? Put that gun away. If anything happens to me in this house, whom do you think the police would question? It’s just not worth it. Please put the gun down. Let’s talk about what I did that made you so angry.”

  He just stood there sneering at her. If she was as good as she believed she was, Rebecca could offer him his glass of wine and kick the gun from his hand.

  “Bruce, please take this glass of wine and talk to me.”

  Rebecca felt as though her clothes had fallen off her body, as she stood in the kitchen doorway with a lunatic eyeing her as if she were naked. Her heart was pumping blood through it so fast she thought she might faint. She needed to get him on the defensive side of this one-sided conversation.

  “If you’re planning to use that gun do it now. If you’re waving it around to keep me in line let me tell you again if something happens to me you’ll be the first person that the police will come after.”

  “Rebecca, give me your car keys.”

  “I need them to drive to the casino to turn in my resignation. Hell, we talked about that, don’t you remember?”

  “You’re not going anywhere tomorrow. Little girl, you really believe that I’m stupid, don’t you?”

  Without responding, Rebecca pulled the car keys from her pocket and threw them to Bruce, along with her last hope of getting out of his house tonight.

  “I also want your cell phone.”

  If she lied and told him, it was in the car, he’d shoot her now and retrieve the phone later. She needed an exit strategy now and could think of nothing. Brutus was in his alert stance behind Grossman. If he attempted to attack Grossman from behind, the bastard would shoot her first, and then kill her dog.

  “I see you looking toward that mongrel of yours. If you tell him to attack, you go first and then him, so don’t be thinking trying it.”

  Keeping her voice as steady as she could for Brutus’ sake, Rebecca told him, “My cell phone is in my purse. Do you want me to get it for you?”

  He snickered at her, “No, I’ll deal with it later.” He stepped closer to her keeping the gun pointed at her chest. She was shaking with anger; she threw the wine glasses to the floor to free her hands.

  “Mrs. Grossman have you ever heard the saying that curiosity killed the cat?”

  “Yes Agent Grossman, I have. Who’s the curious dead cat?”

  Grossman kept the gun pointed at her chest when he stepped toward her. He grabbed her arm and spun her around with her wrist twisted behind her back. “Get your ass moving toward the cellar door. Bring that fucking mongrel with you.”

  He’d caught her off guard. She knew he was psychotic, but never would have expected him to move that fast.

  Oh, my God this is it. I’m going to die in this fucking house. She could feel the gun pushed into her back as she walked to the cellar door. Grossman held the gun pointed at her back while he unlocked the door.

  “Get moving. You have such a curious nature; I’m going to show you what you’re looking for.”

  When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Cassie was no longer working undercover as Rebecca Grossman; she transform to Agent Cassie Henson when she saw boxes piled everywhere. Grossman kicked the lid off one of them. The box was full of money.

  Holding the gun aimed at her chest, he growled at her, “Now that you know that I’m the driver that gets paid to deliver the money, I can’t let you go anywhere. Get your pretty little ass over here.”

  Cassie stumbled twice. If she didn’t get the upper hand in this situation, only God and Grossman would know what happened. At this point, she was defenseless, if she tried to charge him, she’d end up with a bullet in her chest for her effort. Her mind raced as she looked around for something, anything to defend herself.

  Gun or no gun, she made her move. She spun around and with her hands clasped together, hit him on the side of his head. When he stumbled backward, she reached for his gun. Before she got the gun, he hit her in the face with the butt of it. She saw stars, but held onto the thought that she needed to get the gun away from him.

  Grossman was stronger than she was. He grabbed her arm and pushed her to the cement foundation floor. He then turned her over on her back, and pushed her toward the wall. Her head was about an inch from the cinderblock wall. He then shackled her arms to the wall at about six inches above the floor. He then covered her mouth with duck tape.

  In her mind, she screamed at him, if you intend to kill me, do it now! She didn’t look away from Grossman’s raging eyes. He had shackled her hands so tightly that she couldn’t signal Brutus to lie down. Cassie could only lie on the cement floor and watch as Brutus immediately went into attack mode. His master needed him. She watched as her dog jumped to attack Grossman and couldn’t do anything to stop him.

  Grossman was walking toward the steps when he heard Brutus behind him; he spun around and shot her dog in the chest.

  “I told you not to bring that fucking mutt with you. You should do as you’re told.”

  Cassie chained to the wall, tried to get her wrists free to no avail. That psychotic monster had just killed her dog, while she was helpless to stop him. Tears ran from her eyes as she prayed for Grossman to shoot her next.

  As if he could hear her thoughts, he told her, “I’m not planning to kill you just yet Mrs. Grossman. We haven’t consummated our marriage so I plan to keep you around for a while. It’s late and I need to be up early in the morning, so I’m going to bed.”

  Before climbing the stairs, he left her with one parting thought. “There’s a laser beam device connected to a bomb, so I suggest that you lay very still.”


  Cassie thought for one split second, if I were to break the beam and set the bomb off, we would all die, including Grossman. Her will to live and see this man incarcerated overrode the thought.

  At the top of the stairs, Grossman turned the basement light off, leaving her to lay in the dark with her dead dog. Inside her head, she told her dog, Brutus, we’re in a real pickle. As she lay on the floor, in the dark, she was sure she felt small creatures scurrying around her and across her body. Cassie thought they had to be mice, or God forbid rats. One of those creatures bit into her leg. Her legs were free, so tried to kick them away from her. She screamed out for help; however, with duct tape covering her mouth, the scream didn’t reach very far. Cassie laid awake all night while whatever was in the basement gnawed on her legs and arms. One brave bastard was bold enough to climb onto her chest and get close to her face. While she couldn’t see it in the dark, she felt whiskers brush against her cheek.

  Twice during the night, she could stop herself from urinating and the stench of the ammonia smelling urine was retched. Her shoulders ached and the bites taken from her body hurt. She clung to the thought that Grossman told her he wasn’t about to kill her until he’d consummated their marriage. If that were in fact his thought, surely he would unshackle from the wall in the morning so she could shower. Even a psycho like Grossman, wouldn’t want to consummate the fictitious marriage he’d created in his head with a woman who’d lain in her own urine.

  Close to passing out, Cassie started to count the seconds in her mind, one, one thousand, two, one thousand, three, one thousand. At the ten-second mark, something bit her arm and the pain caused her to pass out.

  When she woke, there was dim light coming through the small dusty basement windows above her head. She heard Grossman’s footsteps on the floor above her as he approached the basement door. Cassie heard the door open and watched as he descended the stairs. He walked to stand over her, and laughed, the fucker actually laughed at her. She implored him with her eyes, to unshackle her and let her up.