Sedona Law 6: A Legal Thriller

by Dave Daren

  “Yeah,” he said. “But he wrote me a bloody great check in the end.”

  “Because I threatened his career to make him do what was right in the first place,” I said.

  “That’s true,” he said. “I guess I should look at it that way.”

  “I guess they didn’t find Tony,” I asked Leila.

  “No,” she said. “They’re out driving around looking for him. He’s not answering his phone.”

  I had tell the agents something. I stepped into the room.

  “Mr. Sanchez is…” I paused.

  Legally I couldn’t lie for him. I had to tell them the truth. He had been directly involved in the crime in question, so unlike Jagger, he should go to jail. The immunity deal currently trumped that, but it required him to testify first. But, running, incidentally trumped the immunity deal, making him a fugitive. My only hope was to buy some time on Winslow’s good graces, but we’d have to act fast.

  “Mr. Sanchez is missing. We’ve got our team out looking for him now.”

  “Missing?” Agent Winslow asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “The bosses he’s about to name are dangerous men and he’s scared. So, he’s running. He couldn’t have gotten far, it’s been less than an hour, and we’re confident we can get him back.”

  “We got a runner, huh?” Agent Johnson sighed.

  “Let me see where they are,” I pulled out my phone and called Vicki.

  “Hey,” she answered.

  “Where are we on Tony?” I asked

  “AJ and I are both driving around, looking for him,” she said. “Nothing.”

  “Any ideas?” I asked.

  “We think he might be at Roy’s garage,” she said.

  “Roy had said something about him sitting on a big shipment,” I said. “Apparently Roy couldn’t move it, and Tony was getting antsy.”

  “Do you know where the shipment is?” she asked.

  “No,” I said. “But I’m going to try Universal. See if he’s there.”

  “Great,” she said. “We’ll keep looking.”

  “Alright,” I said. “See ya.”

  “See ya.”

  I ended the call and turned to the agents.

  “He’s scared and running,” I said, “which means he knows enough to be in danger. He’s just a low-paid hourly worker at a shipping company. He’s not masterminding anything. But in a town this size, all you need is one small fish like that, to catch all the big fish. How long can you hold out on that immunity deal?”

  “I’ll give you twenty four hours,” Agent Winslow said. “After that, we’re going to town on him.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “We’ll get him. We’ve never lost a case.”

  “I’m aware of your reputation around here,” Agent Winslow said in the only bit of warmth I’d seen from her. “And we’ve run across Tony in our investigation, and I think you’re dead on about him. That’s why I’m giving you some time to find him. Very little time.”

  “Thanks again,” I said .

  The agents packed up their things and left the office.

  “You need us to look for him?” Leila asked me.

  “No,” I said. “This isn’t your problem. Thanks, Jagger. You did great in there today.”

  “Thanks, Henry, for everything.”

  Leila looked up at him like he had hung the moon. I smirked. She had found herself a rich Australian rock star. I thought about the first time I met her, and realized I wouldn’t have expected anything less out of her. Not to mention, she was now running a film studio.

  Yeah, she was going to be alright. More than alright, and she was going to be in my life for a long time.

  The starry eyed couple left the office, hand in hand, and I locked up.

  I had to find Tony Sanchez.

  Chapter 18

  For the second time this month, I drove out to Universal Shipping. In the waning light of the early evening, the shipyard seemed creepier than the last time I had been here. I didn’t know what it was about this place, but it just seemed like the kind of place where gangsters tied someone to a chair and cut off their fingers one by one. Eh, maybe I’d just seen too many movies.

  I parked and wandered around the dusty, barren industrial wasteland, and realized I didn’t have a clear idea of what I was looking for. Did I expect Tony to be here?

  The place was empty now, it must have been after closing time. I was surprised that I could get in.

  I poked around at the wooden crates and metal containers. In the distance, there was a dusty hill, and an old, rusting pickup truck sat near it. It hadn’t been there last time I came out here, and I decided to check it out. I wasn’t getting anywhere nosing around the building areas, so I walked out to the hill.

  The Arizona dust hiked up my pant leg with every step, and I was now glad that I had worn something slightly more utilitarian than dress slacks.

  I neared the truck, and could see movement now. There was someone over there. I heard quick, anxious voices as I got closer. I was just a few yards away now, and I could make out an above ground well built into the side of the hill. I could hear their voices, but couldn’t tell what they were saying. That’s when I heard a gun cock.

  Shit.

  I stopped and raised my palms.

  “Who fuck are you?” the assailant stepped out of the shadows, holding a pistol.

  He was a burly Hispanic man, with tattoos on his sunburned arms.

  “I mean no harm,” I said slowly.

  Oddly, I had been in this situation before. I wasn’t as alarmed as I was the first time. The first time I had been held at gunpoint, I played it cool, while adrenaline coursed through my veins like heroin. This time I felt as calm, cool and collected as I came off. I had to remind myself that I was in real danger.

  “I’m just looking for a friend,” I said.

  “Who’s your friend?” he demanded.

  Two other men came from the other side joined him and they all stood like a wall blocking the well. I knew that Tony was here.

  “Look,” I said. “I don’t know what you’re up to, and I don’t care. I’m sure you have your reasons.”

  “Man, you better step the fuck off,” the tattooed man warned.

  “Okay,” I said and took two steps backwards, while keeping my palms in the air.

  “What the fuck you think is?” the man said. “An action movie? There’s no script here that’s going to be resolved at the end. You beat it, or you die.”

  He then fired the gun and hit the ground inches away from me.

  “You better run, monkey, run,” he mocked and then shot at me again. “I’m only going to fire so many warning shots.”

  Shit. I was in over my head. I started to retreat, and then, another vehicle pulled up and distracted the men. I made a break for it, but stopped on the other side of the well, when I noticed Tony Sanchez crouched behind it. He looked horrified.

  “Hello, Tony,” I whispered.

  “Mr. Irving,” he whispered. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Ya think?” I muttered. “Neither should you.”

  It was a white unmarked van, and out of the driver’s seat, stepped none other than Irwin Montague. Fuck.

  I pulled out my phone and called Agent Winslow.

  “Agent Winslow,” she answered.

  “Winslow,” I whispered. “I’m going to send my location. I’ve got Sanchez and Montague.”

  “You’ve got Montague?” she exclaimed. “Where?”

  “Universal Shipping,” I whispered. “They’re armed.”

  “We’re sending a team out there now,” she said.

  “Thanks,” I said and ended the call.

  “Tony,” I whispered. “This is your make or break moment. You’re not going to get this opportunity again. You can either choose to come with me, or stay with them. What do you want?”

  He looked torn.

  “This path,” I said. “Leads straight to prison.”

  “But your path
leads to death,” he said.

  “And yours doesn’t?” I snorted. “I just dodged about five bullets.”

  He shrugged.

  “I can get you out of here,” I said. “But you’re going to have to want to leave behind all of this.”

  “It’s not that simple,” he said. “The shipment is worth a lot of money.”

  “Alright, people,” Irwin clapped his hands. “Why have we been sitting on this shipment for two weeks?”

  Irwin was tall, and swarthy, and wore a pink feather boa around his neck, and a red sequined shirt, and oversized sunglasses. He was dressed more ridiculous than the last time I saw him.

  He was the one that saw us crouched behind the well.

  “Fucking hell,” he said. “Henry Irving.”

  I stood to greet him.

  “Hello, Irwin,” I said.

  He pulled back and punched me square in the face. I cried out as the blinding pain coursed through my face. I did not expect Irwin Montague to deliver such a solid punch.

  “That’s for my mother, you asshole,” he said.

  “Your mother was trying to protect you,” I said as I wiped blood from my nose, “because she knew you were in over your head. If you want to bring your mother justice, I’d suggest you walk away from what you’re doing. Otherwise, she went to jail for nothing.

  The pain in my face subsided to a dull ache and I diagnosed the damage must be minimal.

  “You know nothing about me or my mother,” he retorted with a flip of his boa.

  “I know some,” I said.

  “Hey,” the tattooed man yelled. “Didn’t I tell you to fuck off?”

  “Horatio,” Irwin looked me up and down. “There’s too much trash in this field. I can’t breathe. Ugh. It’s clogging up my nostrils. Can you do something about that?”

  Horatio laughed mirthlessly.

  “Gladly boss,” he replied.

  He raised his gun, and my instincts kicked in

  “Run, Tony,” I yelled.

  Both Tony and I ran as fast as we could. I zigzagged through the field to throw off their shooting, but they weren’t missing us by much.

  We reached the building, and stopped under an awning to catch our breath.

  “They’re not going to give up,” Tony panted. “They’re coming.”

  “We just need to buy time,” I said.

  “For what?” he asked.

  At that moment, a dozen cop cars, Sedona Police, State Troopers, SWAT team, and an FBI van careened into the parking lot.

  “For them,” I smiled. “The cavalry.”

  The cavalry exited their vehicles, armed and decked out in riot gear.

  “You see,” I told Tony. “That’s the thing about being on the good side. You’ve got them working for you, instead of against you.”

  I went out to greet Agent Winslow.

  “Up there,” I pointed and they all ran. The news had traveled up the hill and Irwin’s van and the pickup truck were moving. But, there was no way to get the street without coming back toward the building. There were unpaved paths up into the mesas the other way, but no ordinary vehicle could safely traverse that. They were blocked in and they knew it.

  The cavalry stood near the building, and a SWAT officer yelled into a megaphone.

  “Irwin,” he said. “We’ve got you surrounded. Give yourself up now. There’s nowhere to run.”

  Maybe there was nowhere to run, but he didn’t say anything about driving. Irwin floored it, and careened back through the building alcove and through the parking lot at about eighty-five miles per hour.

  The cavalry ran for cover, and one of the officers stumbled and tripped in the rush. He dropped his gun and it fell right at my feet. The van was racing up on us like a bullet, and so I didn’t think.

  I grabbed the gun. As an adult, I’m a pacifist kind of guy that believes in gun control. But, as a kid, I grew up out here, shooting cans out in the Arizona desert.

  This was the original old west, after all, and we were proud of our heritage and culture out here. Owning a gun wasn’t much of a moral dilemma in these parts. Everybody’s packing, completely apathetic to whether the White House says they should or shouldn't.

  When I held that gun, the raw power, the rush, the feel of the cold steel from my childhood came back to me in a flood. And I followed the only logical thought that popped in my head.

  I went for the tires.

  Bam. Bam. The gun kicked back in my hand at each shot. The crippled van slowed, and Irwin tried to run it on rims but couldn’t get that far.

  The van stopped. It was silent in the yard for about ten seconds. Then Irwin Montague stepped out of the van with his hands raised.

  The cavalry swarmed Irwin like a hive of bees. Within minutes, they had him on his knees, handcuffed. The three tattooed men they took into custody next, and then they went after Tony. A SWAT team member wrestled down to the ground, and cuffed him.

  “I’m his lawyer,” I protested. “He’s got an immunity deal with Federal Agent Jessica Winslow.”

  The SWAT team officer looked perplexed.

  “Tony Sanchez,” I said. “His name is Tony Sanchez.”

  He got on his radio. “Winslow, do you know anything about a Tony Sanchez?”

  “Yeah,” she radioed back. “I’ll be right there.”

  Agent Winslow showed up a couple of minutes later and looked Tony up and down disapprovingly.

  “You ran,” she scolded.

  “Yes ma’am,” he said. “I got scared.”

  “But he led us to the smugglers,” I said.

  “And I know something else,” he said. “I know how James Matthews died.”

  I looked at him wide-eyed.

  “You never told me that,” I said.

  “You’re coming with me,” Agent Winslow said.

  She escorted him to an unmarked squad car.

  “Let me know before you question him,” I called out.

  “Yeah,” she said. “We’ll call you. Don’t worry.”

  The scene was more chaos, and with my witness gone, there was nothing for me to do here.

  I drove back home. Because at this point, there was nothing I could do but wait.

  Chapter 19

  I got the call first thing in the morning. Vicki and I were finishing breakfast, and there wasn’t much to say. I had told her everything. Irwin left a bruise on my jaw, and my nose had pretty much healed. Vicki wasn’t happy about that. But now all there was to do was wait.

  I jumped when my phone went off.

  “Henry Irving,” I answered.

  “Mr. Irving, this is Agent Winslow,” she said.

  “Good morning, Agent Winslow,” I said.

  “Good morning,” she said. “We’ve got Tony Sanchez in a holding cell at the SPD. We’re ready to question him now.”

  “I’m on my way,” I said.

  “Thank you,” she answered.

  I ended the call and turned to Vicki.

  “That was it,” I said. “You coming?”

  “Hell yeah,” she said.

  We drove out to the police station, and we were quiet most of the way.

  “You know Henry,” she said quietly. “Can I ask for something?

  “Sure, anything,” I said.

  “I know that our careers went in a different way than we expected,” she said.

  “Sure,” I said. “This is a million miles from how I thought it would go.”

  “That’s the thing,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” I said.

  “Can you do something for me?” she asked.

  “What?” I asked.

  The lead in was starting to scare me. What was she trying to ask?”

  “Can you stop getting shot at?” she blurted out.

  I laughed. “I would love to stop getting shot at. It’s not fun for me either.”

  “No,” she said. “Really. I worry about you.”

  I blinked in surprise. “I don’t go looking
for it. It just happens. We deal with criminals, and criminals frequently have guns.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “And you don’t.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Well,” she said. “How about this. If you’re going to put yourself in dangerous situations, at least carry a gun.”

  “You want me to carry a gun?” I asked incredulously.

  “Not all the time,” she said. “Just, if you’re going to chase these criminals, promise me you’ll be prepared.”

  “Vic,” I protested.

  She looked at me with a firm expression I’d never seen before.

  “It’s important to me,” she said.

  I sighed. “Okay. I’ll get a gun.”

  She took my hand across the console and we were quiet for a moment.

  “And I’ll get one too,” she winked. “A pink one.”

  “A pink gun?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I found it online. It’s kind of cute.”

  “Do you even know how to use one?” I asked.

  “What’s to know?” she said. “You just point, and pull the trigger.”

  I laughed. “Spoken like a true California girl.”

  “We’ll have to go to a gun range,” she said. “Practice shooting. It’ll be fun.”

  “Yeah with your pink gun,” I muttered. “Does it have rhinestones?”

  “And flowers too,” she said.

  “Oh my god,” I said. “It’s a Barbie gun.”

  We arrived at the Sedona Police Department and if it was hectic the last time we were here, this was a straight up madhouse. Fortunately, we weren’t frisked by the security guards this time.

  “They didn’t find your pink gun,” I whispered to Vicki and she stifled laughter.

  That was when we noticed AJ napping on the waiting room chairs.

  “AJ,” I called out.

  She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Vicki, Henry, so glad you’re here.”

  “Have you been here all night?” Vicki asked.

  She sat beside AJ and rubbed her back.

  “Yeah,” she said. “They took him in, and we’ve just been waiting for updates.”

  “Why didn’t you call us?” I asked.

  “They weren’t saying much,” she said. “I think they were just holding him. But I reminded them to call you before they talked to him. I reminded them like fifty times, and they said they would. So, I figured nothing was happening.”