Totally Buzzed

by Gale Borger

  I jumped up. “Now, wait a damn minute J.J. Before you start jumping on the Dead Butts bandwagon–”

  “Whoa, Buzz, I’m not jumping anywhere…yet. In fact, because the case’s lock has not been tampered with, I figure Montoya is either telling the truth or he already knows the combination.” He turned to Alejandro. “So which is it, amigo?”

  Alejandro drew himself up and tugged on his shirt, taking offense at the accusation. “I do not tell lies, Sheriff Green. I understand this does not look good for me, but I tell the truth. I do not know what is in that case. I found it under Dr. Huerta’s seat.”

  J.J. straightened and let out the breath he had been holding. “That’s good enough for me.” He took off for the kitchen, and spoke over his shoulder. “Buzz? Find me a toolbox, would you, dear?”

  I stood stunned for a moment while everyone in the room stared at me. I figured the offense was a good defense and I yelled, “How come you’re always nice to me when you want my toolbox, Green? I’ll ‘dear’ your ass, buster!”

  I heard a collective chuckle when I left the room. I found my tools in the basement. By that time, everyone had followed me downstairs and we were crammed in my small work area. J.J. hoisted the heavy case onto the workbench. The men squeezed in beside him. Mag and I were left staring at three sets of Levis and one Wrangler butt.

  Leaving the men to their manly pursuits, Mag and I walked over to my reading area, which consisted of a fireplace, two big overstuffed leather recliners, three fish tanks, and bookshelves to the ceiling. We flopped in the chairs and stared at the fish. In one tank, Golden Angels floated on gossamer fins past the Green Leopard super veils.

  Green Laser Cory catfish swished the gravel, and a swarm of Cardinal Tetras played in the water column. Three brown, long fin bristle-nose plecostomus chewed rhythmically on the driftwood in the center of the tank. In the second tank, three Marlboro and three Blue Cobalt Discus gently nosed the glass. They were all about five inches in diameter, and stunning in their almost fluorescent colors. They recognized me and were performing for a snack. The Brocus splendens eyed me from behind the wood in the tank, waiting for bits of food to float down to their level.

  The third tank contained all the rare specie of Corys, which were my sister Fred’s South American passion.

  Included in the tank were endangered Endler Live Bearers and other South and Central American cichlids. Each time Fred acquired a newly discovered species, she shared her treasures with me. The three huge tanks gave me variety to fit my mood. Wes and Hill loved to watch the fish, too.

  We were startled out of our reverie by excited exclamations coming from the work area. The boys had succeeded in opening the case and were in the process of dumping the contents onto the workbench. We strained to look over shoulders and under armpits.

  Suddenly, three men surged backward and pinned us to the opposite wall. J.J. yelled, “Back! Everyone back!”

  A mad scramble away from the bench had us stumbling over Ian, Moe and Alejandro. Hands grabbed my arm, and I saw Ian had hold of me. I shook loose and started back toward the workbench.

  J.J. held up a hand and I stopped. “Ian, I need you here,” he commanded. Ian responded with a leap over the dogs. He pushed past me. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

  I held my tongue, but strained to see what they were doing. I about crapped when I saw J.J. hold up an incendiary device. The anger drained out of me as quickly as Ian sucked in a breath.

  I backed away and joined Moe, Mag, and Alejandro. I looked at my beloved dogs and said, “Mag, help me get the dogs out of here.”

  We grabbed their collars and led them upstairs and out the back door. The kennel sat well away from the house. I figured they’d be safer out there.

  I flopped on the swing and Mag joined me. “What the heck was that, Buzz?”

  “That is a device meant to blow someone up and start a major fire,” I replied. “It didn’t look home made, either. If Alejandro knew what was in that case, no way would he sit by and watch us open it. He would have slid out the door and been to Hell and gone by now.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “If he’s in on this, I’d suck a pig’s ass.”

  “Yo bitch, you are way too disgusting! Let’s go back in and see what’s going on.”

  Mag and I hopped off the swing and went back to the house. We jogged down the basement stairs.

  Mag said, “Jeez, talk about pennies from Heaven!”

  Alejandro and Moe were seated at the coffee table, with stacks of banded money in the middle. Ian and J.J. were at the workbench. J.J. held a piece of paper with my eyebrow tweezers and Ian held open a Ziploc sandwich bag.

  Since Alejandro was not in cuffs, I figured J.J. had found something in the case to exonerate him.

  I was about to make comment when J.J. looked up and said, “Over here, Buzz.”

  I figured it had to be something really important if it was better than a mountain of money on the table. “What’s up, James?”

  Ian held out the bag. “Look at this.”

  I took the bag and my blood froze in my veins. It was a hand-written note: ‘Take care of Montoya–he is not to leave Fort Worth alive. Deliver the money to Escobar. I will meet you up north. M’.

  I looked over where Alejandro was happily chatting with Moe and Mag, counting money and oblivious to how close death had come. I didn’t realize I had swayed until I bumped into J.J. behind me.

  I never failed to feel sick that someone would be so callous as to dispose of another human being like yesterday’s garbage. Another reason I retired.

  J.J. cleared his throat, and spoke quietly, “I’m not telling him at this point, and I hope you two will agree with this decision.”

  Ian and I nodded. “Ian called his office and they are on their way to pick up the device. Ian, I take it you have a gun safe, or something like it, in that black girlie car of yours?” Ian nodded again. “Then for now I’ll put this in the trunk of your car.”

  J.J. took off up the stairs with the bagged firebomb and Ian’s keys. I breathed a little easier when he came back in one piece. He had a determined look in his eye “We have to move on this before someone else is killed.” J.J. slapped Ian on the shoulder. “Time to call in the Calvary.”

  Ian winked. “I’m way ahead of you. When I called the bomb squad, I also sent notice to my superiors that we required a response team. They are mobilizing and will wait at the Motel 8 by the expressway for our call. Bob O’Brien will be our contact. He’s coming down now and will pose as your cousin, J.J. You’ll understand why when you see him.”

  “Okay, if you say so. Right now I have to put a bug in the right ears to get this party started. Edie swept my office and found listening devices there and one at the front counter. I’m going to place a call and she’ll put the phone on speaker.”

  I piped up, “If I could interrupt for just a moment, what am I doing now?”

  J.J. jerked his head toward Mag, Alejandro, and Moe. “If you would go over tonight’s itinerary with them one more time, I’d appreciate it.”

  He ruffled my hair and I poked him in the belly. “Knock it off or I’m going to tell your mother.” He and Ian both laughed.

  I turned to the trio across the room. “Hey, you Rockefellers, dump that into a box or something and let’s go over tonight’s plan.”

  We looked around for a container and Mag came up with the big cooler we used to put our fresh-caught fish in.

  Alejandro laughed, “Now we know something is fishy here!”

  We all joined in with fish jokes on the way back upstairs. J.J. was on the phone. “Hello, Edie? J.J. here. Do we still have that Luminal in the evidence storage area? Good. Pull it out for me, would you? Buzz and I are going to make another trip out to Graff’s. I think that horse might have died out there in the barn. I’ll stop by and pick it up. Yeah, about six o’clock.”

  He waited while Edie spoke. “My cousin Bob is coming for the weekend and I wanted to wait for him to get here
so I could send him over to my mother’s house until we finish out at Graff’s. Yeah, about five or so. No, no, you go on home at 4:30 as usual. You can leave the stuff in my office. I’ll pick it up on the way out. Thanks Edie–bye, now.”

  He flipped the phone closed and said, “Well, that’s that. We’re committed.”

  “Or we ought to be.” I added under my breath.

  Moe walked in from the other room, snapping her cell phone shut. “More bad news, guys.”

  J.J. turned. “What the hell is it now?”

  “Rob disappeared from the hospital.”

  Mag piped up, “I thought he was in ICU?”

  “He was. They upgraded his condition and moved him to a regular room. It seems when Joel–that’s who you call Curly–was helping the nurses move his stuff, Rob must have disconnected his IV and wheeled himself down the hall. The wheelchair was found in a waiting room, and a man is missing a long coat. What he used for shoes is beyond me, but Curly is out looking for a guy who looks like a barefoot flasher, as we speak.”

  J.J. rubbed his brow. “Geeez, what next?” He picked up the cell once more and called Edie at the station. He put out an all-call on Rob Graff. He’d fix his disappearing ass.

  J.J. had Edie notify everyone–including the Wisconsin and the Illinois State Police. “Robert Graff just jumped to the top of my most wanted list. Let’s wait for Bob to get here. Moe, keep an ear close to the radio. I want that little bastard back in custody.”

  “Right, Boss.”

  The afternoon faded into evening while we tossed ideas back and forth about how to proceed. Bob O’Brien arrived about four. I opened the door, stood for a moment, staring at a man who could have passed for J.J.‘s twin, or at least his younger brother.

  He held out his hand. “You must be Buzz Miller. Ian described you perfectly.”

  I gave him a wary look and shook his hand. “I’m afraid to ask what he said. Come on in and meet everyone.” Bob gave me an easy smile and walked past me into the house. J.J. did a double take. “Hol-ee crap! Did my momma forget to tell me something? Are you a handsome devil or what?”

  Bob laughed. “I must be. I look just like you, my friend.”

  29

  Chest heaving, feet killing him, Rob Graff stepped around the side of a house and stood with his hands on his knees, willing his heart to slow. It seemed like he had run miles, but he could still see the tower on the top of the hospital about a half mile away. What the hell was he going to do? He had to get out of here. He had to pack and go…go somewhere. L.A. or Mexico maybe.

  Jumping over a hedge Rob crouched near a shed. Good. No dog. He spotted clothes hanging on a line and couldn’t believe his luck. Keeping an eye on the back door, Rob scuttled across the yard and snatched sweatpants and a tee shirt off the line. He heard a dog bark and his heart jumped to his throat. He ran like Jesse Owens toward the hedge and flew over the top. As he stumbled around the corner, he dumped the stolen coat on the ground, dragged the sweats over the hospital gown and pulled the too-small tee over his head.

  The sound of a diesel engine kept him heading toward the street. Wow. That’s Bill Miller at the stop sign. He ran to the intersection.

  “Hi Mr. Miller,” he called through the window.

  “Well, hello there Rob, I thought you were in some sort of accident or something. Shouldn’t you be resting at home?”

  “Yes I should, but I got stuck here in town. If you’re heading home, could I catch a ride with you?”

  “Sure enough Rob. Hop in, I’m heading out now.”

  Rob was deep in thought during the ride, mentally making a to do list. He jumped out of the truck at the entrance to the garden center, yelled his thanks, and ran toward the house. First on the agenda: band aids, socks, and shoes for his feet. Then pack up and get the hell out.

  * * *

  FBI Bob, J.J., and I drove to J.J.‘s Mom’s house where we dropped off Bob. He hugged J.J.‘s mom when she answered the door and went inside. I thought what a great sport she was, hugging a stranger she had never met. Just in case someone was watching, Bob waited five minutes, and then went out the back door. He hopped Mrs. Leskowitz’s fence, ran three houses over, and crossed the street to where Mag waited with her car. He jumped into the car and they headed toward Mom’s house.

  Meanwhile, J.J. and I picked up the Luminol at the office. J.J. took his time and listened to his messages. Knowing Martinez would pick up anything he said with the listening device, J.J. proceeded to bait the hook so he could lure Martinez to the greenhouse. He checked in with Curly, who was on patrol. J.J. told Curly we were headed out to Graff’s greenhouse, and if he needed him to use the cell phone. Acting as he would if no one was listening, J.J. made a couple of return calls. He called his mother, told her we were a little later than we had expected to be, and for her to tell Bob he’d be home by 8:30 or so. He rang off, and we headed out to the Graff’s place.

  * * *

  Bob, Ian, Mag, Moe, and Alejandro drove up my parent’s driveway and pulled up close to the barn. Ian silently pointed across the field to Graff’s greenhouses. Bob nodded. Inside the barn six ATVs and eight black-clad FBI agents waited.

  Bob and Ian grabbed vests from the agent by the barn door and mounted the closest ATV. Moe and Mag climbed onto the second ATV, donned vests. Everyone was ready to go.

  Alejandro headed past Ian. Ian grabbed his arm. “Amigo, remember we talked about this. It is way too dangerous for you to come. Those people want you dead. Go to the house. Bill and Gerry are expecting you. I promise you, I will see justice done.”

  Alejandro bit his lip. He looked at the ground and sighed. “I understand.”

  He looked as if he wanted to say more, but walked off through the barn toward the house. Bob gave the signal and everyone else set off toward Graff’s.

  Mag was surprised the machines made almost no noise. Moe leaned back and whispered, “Electric–like a golf cart.”

  “Cool-lee-O,” she whispered back.

  They covered the distance to the Graff property in less than five minutes and pulled quietly into place along the back fence. Mag stayed back with one other agent. She plugged in her ear phone so she could listen in. Bob, Ian, Moe, and the agents crept slowly through the tall weeds toward the barn.

  Mag watched them seemingly melt into the twilight. A tingle crawled slowly up her spine. Wow. This is real. The ball was rolling, and she was a part of it!

  Rob Graff was in the driveway in front of the main building when J.J. and I arrived. He gave no greeting, but opened the side gate so we could drive through. He left the gate open and got into the back seat at J.J.‘s wave. He sat with his arms folded across his chest and stared out the window.

  We rolled slowly through the yard. J.J. struck up a conversation, giving no indication he had just put out an all-points bulletin on Rob. “So Rob, is your dad back in town yet?”

  “Why do you want to know? What’s it to you?” was the snotty reply.

  J.J. sighed. “Because I care about how you guys are doing, that’s why. I haven’t heard from your father and I admit I am a little anxious, that’s all. I would expect you would be concerned too.”

  Rob sat back and said sullenly, “He’ll turn up–he always lands on his feet.”

  J.J. slowed to a crawl and looked at Rob in the rear-view mirror. “Rob, is there something you want to tell us? Do you know something about your dad’s whereabouts you’re not telling us?”

  Rob grabbed the door handle, like he was going to jump out of the moving vehicle, and thought better of it. He rubbed the heels of his hands in his eyes and said miserably, “I don’t know, man. It wasn’t supposed to be like this!”

  J.J. would have said more, but we had arrived at the barn. Rob threw open the door and bolted for the stable door. The lock was back on the door. Rob had it open before we got there. He stood back, looking at the ground. We entered the empty building.

  “Sherriff Green–”

  We stopped. “Yes Rob, do
you have something to tell us?”

  He scuffed a toe in the dirt. “Uh, I guess not.”

  Rob stayed by the door while J.J. and I entered the barn. J.J. flipped on the aisle lights and we proceeded toward the drain, about half way down the building.

  Edie had prepared four spray bottles of Luminol. J.J. and I each picked one up and turned to the onerous task of looking for evidence of bloodshed. Luminol was not evidence per se, but rather a last resort tactic when other investigative methods have failed to produce clues to what transpired at a crime scene. Blood spatter patterns can be analyzed to determine what type of instrument was used to kill. Footprints, fingerprints, and other forensic evidence have been uncovered by the use of Luminol, and have connected killers to crime scenes. The type of Luminol police agencies used does not destroy DNA, so there was also a chance of picking up clues and evidence of the horse dying, or if Huerta or Carole bled anywhere in the stable.

  Rob stood off in a corner with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He shuffled his feet and looked like he would rather be anywhere else but here. I looked at him and said, “Rob, do you want to help? Grab a bottle and go along the bottom two boards near the cross ties.”

  Rob dragged his feet over to where the remaining Luminol sat, looked around, and picked up a bottle. J.J. told him, “Be careful and don’t breathe the fumes.” He tossed Rob a paper mask. “The ventilation is good in here, but we need to be careful anyway.”

  J.J. and I worked opposite sides of the drain, methodically spraying the rubber matting leading to the drain hole in the floor. Rob walked over to the boards near the cross ties and gave them a couple of half-hearted strokes with the spray bottle. He stopped and looked over where we were working. Bending, he sprayed the boards once more before stopping again.

  Rob looked toward the ceiling, shuffled his feet, fidgeted, and glanced back at J.J. “Sheriff Green, I gotta go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

  He dropped the bottle and sprinted toward the door. We watched as he skidded to a halt–his arms flailing and his legs going in opposite directions. Blocking his way was the shadow of a huge man. He stood there like a stone statue.