* * * *
Sheraton Centre, Toronto, Ontario, 1:43 p.m.
“Come on, mom,” Carlos muttered. “Call, damn it.”
“Are you sure she knows how to make a video call?” asked Dave.
Carlos nodded with a faint smile. “Yeah, she makes them to me sometimes when she finds she hasn’t seen me enough to her liking. Maybe her phone’s out of juice.”
“You call her,” said Chris. “If something’s wrong, it won’t make any difference.”
“I guess you’re right,” Carlos agreed before proceeding to make the call as the others gathered behind Leslie’s laptop.
* * * *
Maynooth, Ontario, 1:45 p.m.
Just beyond the small clearing on the opposite side, Edwin had noticed a depression in the ground bordered by some rocky outcrops on the far side and shielded from view by heavy shrubs. Donna’s destination now decided, he bent over to grab her ankles in order to drag her body over. As he did so, her phone started trilling in his back pocket, announcing a call. Straightening up, he pulled the phone out and peered at the call display. ‘Carlos’.
Logic dictated he ignore the call but on an impulse, fuelled by anger, frustration and vengeance, he smiled at the screen as he tapped it to connect.
Carlos stared back at him in shock for a moment then blurted, “Where’s my mother, you son of a bitch?”
“Ya like what she did to my face?” Edwin snapped, ignoring the question.
“Where is she?” Carlos insisted.
“Yep, she was a tough one,” Edwin continued. “Not too smart though, trying to take me on in a fight.”
“What did you do to her?” Carlos demanded.
“I showed her she made a serious mistake,” Edwin replied before turning the phone to show Donna’s body.
He held the phone on her for several seconds while listening to Carlos scream then cut the connection.
* * * *
Sheraton Centre, Toronto, Ontario, 1:53 p.m.
“I’m sorry for breaking down like this,” Carlos sobbed, reaching for another tissue.
“There’s no reason to apologize,” said Chris, his own cheeks wet with tears.
“Did you see what he did to her?” Carlos whispered.
Chris nodded. “He’s going to pay for it, that I promise.”
“We have to catch him first,” said Jonathan. “We know where he is for now but, if he’s smart, he’s going to disappear and we can’t get there fast enough.”
“What do you suggest?” asked Chris, though he knew where his boss was going.
“I’d call Jarvis,” Jonathan replied, referring to the commissioner of the Ontario Provincial Police.
“So this guy ends up in the system?” Chris retorted.
“Possibly,” said Jonathan. “It’s still better than him disappearing. Let’s start by getting him detained.”
Chris sighed and turned to Leslie and Dave. “Give Jon the GPS coordinates and whatever you have on this Edwin bastard.”
* * * *
Maynooth, Ontario, 2:16 p.m.
Concern soon replaced Edwin’s adrenaline rush and rage once he returned to the cottage. To say Danilo would not be pleased with Donna’s death was putting it mildly though Edwin could argue self-defence with a nasty face gash to prove it. However, once Danilo learned Edwin had shown Carlos his dead mother, Edwin’s own life would likely be in danger.
To up his mood as he worked on a plausible story, he smoked a pipe of meth but the drug only served to feed his anxiety rather than supply the desired euphoria. Willing himself not to panic, he concentrated on planning his next moves. Leaving was a given. He had no idea what Donna had said on the phone, probably to her son, and he was unsure if she had been aware of their location. Regardless, getting as far away as possible from her body clearly made a lot of sense.
Joe’s Civic was parked outside with a half tank of gas, the keys on the counter in the kitchen. He would grab a gun from the stash they kept in a floor compartment under the couch in the living room. He had almost four hundred bucks on him which would keep him going for a few days, until he figured a way out of this mess without getting himself killed. He would find somewhere to lay low in the meantime and, the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that everything would work out.
“Yeah, I can fix this,” he murmured as he prepared his pipe for a last hit before getting ready to leave. “I’ll even find Fernando and bring his head to Dani in a box if I have to.”
* * * *
Maynooth, Ontario, 2:34 p.m.
Staff Sergeant Jenn Low, Commander of the Bancroft OPP detachment, pulled the cruiser onto the dirt shoulder of Highway 127 at Iron Bridge Road and came to a stop behind the waiting unmarked car.
“Where’s Jim?” asked Sergeant Shay from the passenger seat.
“Damned if I know,” Low muttered as they climbed out of the cruiser.
“Where’s Jim?” she repeated to Detective Constable Koller as he approached.
“He’ll be back in a minute, Chief,” Koller replied with a sheepish grin.
“Where is he, Bill?” Shay demanded.
“He just took a quick run over to see the place,” Koller admitted. “You know how Jim is.”
“God damned Bennett,” Low snapped. “What part didn’t he get that this is a potential murder suspect?”
“It’s just a little reconnaissance,” Koller reasoned, “And you know Jim’s good. We’ve already identified the vehicle at the cottage, registered to Jose Ortez, a newbie with Mara. Anyhow, Jim’s on his way –”
He held a finger up as he listened to his earpiece then replied in his throat mike, “We’re on it.”
“Suspect’s on the way,” he announced as he hurried into the unmarked.
Shay did likewise with the cruiser and seconds later, the two vehicles were effectively blocking Iron Bridge Road while the three officers took cover behind them, weapons drawn. Less than a minute later, the black Civic rounded the curve a hundred feet away and slowed then stopped in the middle of the road. There was little chance of the suspect backtracking since the road ended at the cottage he had left moments before.
Crouching by the open door of the cruiser, Low activated the speakers and pulled the mike to her lips. “Edwin Chavez, turn off the engine and throw the keys out of the car.”
Edwin seemed to move in his seat but remained inside, the engine still running.
“I repeat,” said Low, “Cut the engine and toss out the keys.”
Edwin lowered his window and yelled, “I didn’t do nothing. Leave me alone.”
“If that’s the case, you have nothing to worry about,” Low replied. “Make this easy and turn off the engine.”
“This is bullshit,” shouted Edwin before turning off the engine and dropping, not tossing, the keys out the window.
“Wants to keep them handy,” Shay murmured.
“Yep,” Low agreed.
“I’ve got him in sight,” Detective Sergeant Bennett’s voice sounded in their earpieces.
“Attaboy,” Koller responded.
Low activated the mike. “Edwin, put your right hand on the wheel where we can see it. With your left hand, I want you to open the door of the car, nice and slow.”
Five seconds passed then he raised his right hand to grip the steering wheel as he opened the door.
“Good going,” Low encouraged. “You’re doing fine. Now, place both hands on the top of the door and get out of the car. Keep your hands where we can see them and keep it slow.”
Once again, Edwin delayed a few seconds then turned to his left. His feet appeared below the open door as both hands grasped its top. Slowly, he raised himself to a standing position and turned to face them.
“He’s got a gun,” said Bennett, “Stuck in his pants behind him.”
“Don’t move, Edwin,” Low warned. “Leave your hands where they are.”
“What’s this about?” Edwin demanded.
“We’ll get to t
hat soon,” Low replied.
“I didn’t do nothing,” Edwin shouted, raising his hands in a gesture of exasperation.
“Keep your hands in the air and step away from the car,” Low ordered as the others kept their guns trained on him.
“Fuck this shit,” Edwin yelled as he ducked behind the door, pulled his gun and fired a couple of shots toward the police cars.
“I can take him,” said Bennett.
“Drop the gun, Edwin,” Low commanded. “It’s not too late to work this out.”
“Fuck you, bitch,” Edwin shouted back before taking a couple more shots, one of them splintering the unmarked car’s windshield.
“I have a clear shot,” Bennett announced anew.
“Take him,” said Low.
* * * *
Sheraton Centre, Toronto, Ontario, 2:59 p.m.
“That was Jarvis,” Jonathan announced as he ended a call. “Edwin Chavez is dead.”
“What happened?” asked Chris.
“He was intercepted by four officers from the Bancroft detachment as he tried to leave the area,” Jonathan replied. “He fired some shots and they took him down.”
“Did they find my mother?” asked Carlos.
“Not yet but this all just happened,” said Jonathan. “They’ll find her.”
“I can’t believe she’s dead,” said Carlos, his eyes welling up again. “I knew it could happen but I thought she’d make it once she had escaped. I hope that fucker suffered and I’m glad they killed him.” He laughed suddenly despite his tears and added, “I guess this will kind of screw up Dani’s plans.”
“It’s a safe guess he’ll come after you now,” said Chris. “You’re his best bet to find Fernando.”
“Well, I want to find Fernando even more than he does now,” said Carlos, “And when I do, I’m going to kill the son of a bitch. Because of him, mom’s dead.”
“I understand how you feel,” said Chris, “But I’m not going to let you do anything to put yourself in danger.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not stupid,” Carlos replied, “But the bastard is going to pay.”
* * * *
Scarborough, Ontario, 4:07 p.m.
“There it is,” Jose announced, pointing to Edwin’s electric-blue Mustang with a silver lightning bolt on its side, parked near the drive-in entrance to the complex.
Danilo slowed and stopped next to the car then pulled a key and a slip of paper from his pocket which he handed to Jose.
“While you’re here, I want you to go through her apartment and see if there’s anything else that could help us find Fernando. That’s her address. If she has a computer, take it.”
“I don’t like this, Dani,” said Jose. “Look at what happened to Edwin.”
“I brought you into the gang, kiddo,” said Danilo, “But you have to show you’re worth it.”
“I didn’t ask for anything,” Jose countered. “Like you said, you brought me into the gang.”
“Damn it, Joe, don’t give me a hard time,” Danilo snapped. “I’m just asking you to scope her place out.”
“I’ll do it but I don’t like it,” Jose muttered.
“Just do it,” Danilo ordered. “You heard me ask Julio to go check out her kid’s place. He didn’t bitch about it.”
“Good for him,” Jose retorted, opening the door. “Anyhow, I said okay.”
“Just be careful,” said Danilo. “That’s all.”
“Whatever,” Jose replied before sliding out and slamming the door.
* * * *
“We may have visitors,” Sean Hayden murmured from where he sat in the steps by the drive-in entrance, fiddling with his mobile.
To the average passerby, the rough-looking, bearded, long-haired forty-something year old might not necessarily appear to be a homeless person but clearly one well used to spending time on the streets. He certainly did not look like a highly experienced investigation and security professional with a special ops military background.
He read the plate number of the black Escapade which had just pulled up by Edwin’s car, a task made easy with the magnifier lens set in his sunglasses. They had already identified the Mustang’s owner, having noticed the two parking tickets on the windshield upon their arrival. They were in the business of noticing details and were very good at it.
“Hard to say, there’s some glare on the windshield,” he added as he waited, “But that could be Danilo Mejia himself at the wheel.”
“That’s who that Caddy is registered to,” Jeff ‘Benny’ Benham confirmed from inside Donna apartment. “What are they up to?”
“Talking in the car for now,” Hayden replied. “Engine’s still running and he’d have room to park if he wanted to. They may just be picking up the Mustang – wait, passenger’s getting out. It’s not Edwin.” He scrolled through some Mara member photos on his phone and added, “Looks like a guy named Jose Ortez. The Caddy’s leaving and Ortez popped the trunk on the Mustang. Tossing a backpack in there and closing it. Now’s he’s heading this way.”
He fell silent as Ortez approached then strolled by, up the drive and onto the apartment complex.
“He’s heading your way,” Hayden announced, rising to his feet and leaning on the railing as he casually glanced at the retreating Ortez.
“I see him,” said Benny as Ortez reached the central parking area and turned left toward Donna’s apartment.
“I’m on my way,” Hayden murmured, moving along the walkway.
“He’s halfway through the lot,” said Benny, “And definitely heading here.”
Hayden reached the corner of the building adjacent to the walkway and peered around the corner in time to see Ortez enter the building where Donna’s apartment was located.
“He’s in,” Hayden announced, breaking into a slow jog.
“I’m waiting for him,” Benny replied.
* * * *
Jose reached the door of Donna’s apartment and knocked. He doubted anyone was there but if someone was, he could simply pretend he had the wrong apartment. He waited a moment and knocked again, even calling out, “Yo, Johnny, ya home?” Another minute passed with no response and he pressed his ear to the door, listening for any sounds of movement inside. Nothing.
Satisfied, he pulled out the key Dani had given him and let himself into the apartment. Closing the door behind him, he rounded the corner past the coat closet and found himself staring down the barrel of a huge handgun. Holding the gun with a very steady two-handed grip was a massive man in his fifties who sported a nasty looking scowl.
“Whoa,” Jose uttered for lack of something better to say as he instinctively raised his hands in the air.
“You got that right,” Benny replied. “Hands behind your head.”
“Wait, what –”
“Hands behind your head,” Benny ordered, “And spread your feet apart. I won’t ask again.”
Jose assumed the demanded position.
“Good boy,” said Benny. “Mind telling me what you’re doing here?”
“I, uh, I thought this was a friend’s place,” Jose blurted.
“Who, Johnny?” Benny demanded.
“Uh, yeah, Johnny,” said Jose.
“You know a Johnny?” Benny asked.
Jose started as a voice behind him replied, “Johnny who?”
“Don’t move,” Benny snarled. “Answer my friend’s question. Johnny who?”
“I, uh, I don’t know his last name,” Jose stammered.
Benny sneered and looked at Hayden. “Frisk this idiot. I don’t trust him.”
Hayden thoroughly patted their prisoner down, producing two switchblades, a mobile, a wallet and keys, all of which he stuck in the pockets of his own army jacket.
“Now he’s clean,” he announced. “You can lower your hands.”
As Jose’s arms came down, Hayden snapped a cuff on his left wrist, yanked his right arm behind him and snapped on the other cuff.
“What the fuck?” Jose protested.<
br />
“Watch your mouth,” said Hayden, rapping him on the back of the head.
Benny stepped aside and gestured to the couch in the living room. “Have a seat. We need to chat.”
“Look, I told you –” Jose started to protest.
“Sit,” Hayden growled, pushing him roughly forward.
Grudgingly, Jose crossed the short distance, lowered himself onto the couch and stared back at the two men in a failed attempt to show he was not impressed or intimidated.
“Back to your friend, Johnny,” said Benny, “Whose last name you don’t know. So, he gave you the key to this apartment where he doesn’t live? Do you realize how stupid that even sounds?”
“Okay, look,” said Jose, attempting contriteness. “A friend who knows the lady who lives here asked me to come get something for her. That’s all I know. If that’s not cool with you, I get it. Get these off me, give me my stuff back and I’ll leave.”
Hayden laughed. “Just like that? No way, Jose.”
Benny laughed as well. “No way, Jose. I like that. Kind of punny.” He turned back to Jose and his scowl returned. “You don’t seem to realize how tough a spot you’re in, Ortez.”
Jose paled as he realized they knew his name. “Who the hell are you guys? If you’re cops, show me your badges and arrest me.”
Hayden’s phone started vibrating and, after looking at the screen, he left the room to take the call.
“So, are you cops or not?” Jose demanded.
“Shut up and wait until my partner’s back.” Benny snapped.
A couple of minutes later, Hayden returned with a grim look on his face.
“What’s up?” asked Benny.
“Our friend here is in a tougher spot than we thought,” Hayden replied.
“What?” asked Jose. “What’s going on?”
Hayden glared at him and said, “The lady you bastards kidnapped? Now she’s dead. That’s murder, asshole. We’re taking you in.”
The Nephew Page 7