Target: Mendez: An Alex Mendez Tale

by Edward Hancock II

  “I don’t like this, Alex.”

  “I’m sorry, Tab,” Alex replied, genuinely remorseful. He sighed. “Tabby, they’re trying to shut me out. That’s the honest truth. They’re doing it for my own good. I know that. But I am a cop, not a five year old.”

  “Calloway.”

  “You know?” Alex said, shocked. “How’d you know about that? It was years before your time.”

  “Danny told me.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “Enough. Said he’s a danger to you.”

  “Well, he’s evil,” Alex agreed. “Some would argue not without reason.”

  “Tell me,” Tabby whispered.

  “Not sure you’d want to know,” Alex replied.

  The look on her face beseeched him. Tell me.

  “Calloway was a worthless bum. Couldn’t put down the bottle to save his life. Couldn’t put down the bottle when he got married. Not even when his first child was born. By his own words at his trial, Calloway’s wife was a good woman. Went to church. Prayed. A shame that her faith was never rewarded yanno? I’m sure she prayed for her husband to put down the bottle. A shame she never lived to see it happen. A bigger shame it took her death and his imprisonment to make it happen.”

  “But what happened, Alex? Why does Calloway blame you? I don’t…” she trailed off without finishing her statement.

  “Calloway was arrested for DUI many times. I remember him being brought into the station once. Smelled like every manner of alcohol and bodily fluid imaginable. Even then, I thought we’d probably be scraping him off of the pavement one day. I was wrong. We scraped a family off of the pavement. A family he killed when he crashed into them after he left the bar totally drunk. I was one of the guys working the accident.”

  Tabby’s eyes grew big, expectant. As if she knew.

  “I saw so much death that day. More than I’d seen in my life. Now, keep in mind I hadn’t been in uniform very long at that point. I was still vomiting at crime scenes. I vomited then as I recall. We put Calloway in the back of a patrol car. I still remember the stench. That same odor I’d smelled previously. But this was worse. He spat on me. He was crying. Wanted to go home to his wife. But the family he killed didn’t go home that day. Well, they went home to Heaven. Calloway went to jail. But that’s not the worst of it. He killed a family. He went to prison for it. But the worse punishment was one he wouldn’t even find out about until his trial was half over.”

  “You tell a good story, Alex, but get to the point. What happened?”

  “You see, while we were putting Calloway into the back of a patrol car, someone else was breaking into his home. I don’t know all the details. There were rumors that Calloway was into somebody for a lot of money. They came to collect. When Calloway wasn’t there, they decided to send him a message. They killed his wife. His child. Killed them brutally from what I heard. I didn’t work that scene, so I don’t know the details. Never caught the person responsible, understand. All we had was rumors. Never could pin it on anyone. And we tried. I still have a copy of their cold case file in my drawer. Haven’t looked at it in a while. Maybe I should. Whatever happened to them – random act of violence or a message from a criminal enterprise – I don’t know. But Calloway blamed me. Blamed us. The officers arresting him that day. Tommy Deets was there that day too. Fresh out of the academy. His first time in the field I think. He died in 2001. His plane hit the towers.”

  “So, Calloway…”

  “Blamed me for his family’s death. Because he wasn’t there to stop the people who killed his wife and daughter. Blamed me. Blamed Whit. Blamed Deets too.”

  “Oh, Alex…”

  “Danny tell you to report to him?” Alex asked, changing the subject.

  “Nah,” Tabby said, shrugging. “Just said that this case was important. Told me the story, but not in that much detail. Alex, this guy could be dangerous. He served his time. I get that. But Danny’s worried. And that worries me. And now that I know…”

  “Well, Danny worries at stop signs.” Alex joked.

  “That’s not entirely true. But, that’s his job, Alex. To keep all of you safe.”

  “No, Tabby. It’s his job to run the division. We’re cops. It’s our jobs to keep our citizens safe, even if it costs us our lives in the process. Danny is a police captain. He’s not a babysitter. Anyone that needs a babysitter is in the wrong line of work. If they can’t handle the very real risk of death, they have no business pinning on a badge. I accept that risk every day. I don’t welcome it. I don’t encourage it. I sure don’t want it. But, yeah, I do accept it.”

  “No!” Tabby shouted, so loud it echoed through the room. “Alex, I have autopsied enough police officers in my life. You will be safe. That’s the beginning of it and the absolute end of it. Understand?”

  “Tabby, we don’t even know he’s in Longview.”

  “Whitaker was there. Whitaker is dead.”

  “Escalante wasn’t there.”

  “Escalante is...was Hispanic, Alex. Remind you of anyone else we know?”

  “Wait,” Alex said, instantly clued in. “You saying Calloway killed Escalante…because he thought it was…”

  “You.”

  Kellan’s voice caused both Tabby and Alex to jump.

  “Kellan, what are—”

  “That’s the reason, Alex. Danny called me last night. It was a three-way conversation with the chief. Steelman said that it was a working theory he had. Whit dead. A Hispanic cop killed. It’s not a coincidence. Wherever Calloway is now, he probably thinks he killed you when he put a bullet in Escalante. We can hope all day long that he’s gone, but we can’t be sure. Not once the news reports Escalante’s true identity.”

  “I believe in coincidence,” Alex asserted. “But you lied to me.”

  “I threw you a bone, Alex. But now it’s time to go back to the station.”

  “I outrank you.”

  “What did I tell you before? I am Chief Steelman. I have his orders, so I am as good as him where you’re concerned.”

  “Fired,” Alex reminded him. “Remember that? You weren’t supposed to let me leave at all.”

  Kellan’s brow furrowed.

  “I threw you a bone, Alex. Now let’s go. You have work to do. And whether you believe it or not, the chief actually is serious about you doing that work.”

  “Yeah, well, the chief can shove it.”

  “That right?”

  Alex hadn’t even heard the doors opened. Staring into the eyes of Chief Steelman, having to answer for a ‘shove it’ comment was not how he’d envisioned his day going.

  “Chief? What are you doing here?”

  “Well, since Kellan can’t see to do his job to my satisfaction, I figured it was best for me to come relieve him of this particular duty. Now, Alex, you can come quietly or—”

  “Or what?”

  The buzz echoed sharp in Alex’s brain as he lost consciousness. His muscles tensed. Sparkles flashed in his line of sight, even as blackness overtook him. A singular thought followed him into the murky loss of consciousness.

  Well, I’ll be. You do taste metal.

  Chapter 11

  He’d once heard a man say he had to go to prison to become a criminal. Derrick Calloway had been a criminal by the legal definition when he’d gone to prison. He’d been charged with the deaths of a family and the law had decided he was guilty. He’d gone to prison because he was weak. Because he couldn’t stop drinking. It had nothing to do with possessing the heart of a criminal. He didn’t go out on that morning with the intention of killing anyone. Accidents happen. And so it did.

  Derrick Calloway didn’t go to prison with the heart of a criminal but Jason Kirkland was his rebirth. Of course the real Jason Kirkland had not been a criminal either. He’d been a hero. But the Jason Kirkland approaching Alex Mendez’s front door was no hero. He was, at best, a man on a mission. And that mission would prove one thing for certain. His heart hadn’t entered prison b
eating with the blood of a criminal, but the heart pounding with anticipation in his chest as he jimmied the lock was nothing if not criminal.

  Across the street, the neighbor’s driveway was empty. The house next to them appeared vacant, though there was a minivan in the drive. Nothing seemed to stand in his way as he skulked closer toward the front door.

  Wouldn’t matter anyway. Between the ginger wig and the fake earring in his ear, he’d likely be very difficult to connect to the crime he was about to commit. If that wasn’t enough, the exaggerated cheeks and chin would make accurate description next to impossible. Still, exercising a little caution couldn’t hurt.

  Retrieving the sound-suppressed pistol from a nearby patio chair, Kirkland stood, turned the knob. Slow, careful to not make too much noise, he opened the door. He’d expected to be greeted by a barking dog. He knew the house was home to one dog and was currently residence of an additional canine, though neither appeared to be a tremendous threat. In a pinch, neither was bulletproof.

  Surprisingly, the door didn’t creak or crack as he opened it. Perhaps Alex Mendez was a Mr. Fix-it type. Just one more thing to hate about him.

  Though he stepped with careful precision, a soft echo penetrated the entrance hall. He stopped, listened, held his breath. Looked behind to make sure no one else was approaching the house. Down the hall to his right, he heard the sound of a shower running.

  Checking the living room for any sign of canine intrusion, he turned and headed toward the sound of water. His pistol prone and ready, Kirkland continued a slow, methodical pace, even though the hallway was carpeted and no echo filled the area.

  “Well, now,” he whispered, as the shower cut off. “Somebody’s home.”

  Walking toward the distant bathroom, his eyes narrowed. A slight smile crawled across his face as distant shadows wormed on the wall opposite the closed door.

  “Hello,” he whispered, purposely too quiet to be heard, his maniacal grin widening.

  He didn’t hesitate when the young woman exited the bathroom. Pistol extended, he fired just as her eyes were meeting his. She was already screaming as the bullet tore through her night shirt, startled by his presence.

  As she fell, her head slammed into the door facing. She would no longer be of any trouble to him.

  “Shhhh….” he whispered, raising a finger to his lips. “Be very quiet. I’m hunting Mendez.”

  Chapter 12

  Alex’s head literally buzzed. His vision swam behind an ocean of tears. He was sitting up, propped against something very cold and very hard. His feet were tingling. The metal taste in his mouth was gone, but the phantom memory confused him for a moment, causing him to lick his dry lips. Without moving, he took mental stock of his body and was relieved that his bladder had not given way to the temptation to release its contents on his pants. Blinking, he couldn’t quite see the people behind the voices. It took him an instant to realize someone had placed a cold rag on his eyes. Removing the rag, Alex saw Kellan and the chief standing nearby. Tabby knelt beside him, massaging his neck, a sensation that hadn’t registered with him until he saw her beside him.

  “I’m killing somebody,” Alex said, his tongue still tingling. “As soon as I get the feeling in my body back.”

  “Sorry, Alex,” Kellan said, turning toward him. “Chief’s orders.”

  “You ordered him to do that?” Alex asked the chief, his stare full of venom.

  “If we’re being technical, I ordered him to do it if necessary. Not sure that fit the instruction, but what’s done is done. It’s for your own good, Alex. You are a danger to yourself. We had to incapacitate you, even temporarily, so that we could talk some sense into you.”

  Alex’s cell phone rang.

  “Mendez?” he said, rubbing his tingly jaw.

  “Alex?” The voice was whispered, deep. It didn’t appear to be altered.

  “Speaking.”

  “How are you today, Alex?”

  “Just tingling all over. Thanks for asking,” he said, staring up at Kellan and Chief Steelman. “Who is this?”

  “My name is not important, Alex. Just a concerned citizen. I needed to tell you that someone broke into your house.”

  “They what? Who is this? And how do you—”

  “I think you need to get home, Alex.”

  Before he could respond, the line when dead.

  Wobbly, weak, Alex struggled to his feet. Tabby reached out, took his arm and offered support. Steadying himself, Alex rubbed his shoulders and neck. Shrugged, trying to increase the blood flow to his brain.

  “Who was that, Alex?” Kellan asked.

  “I’ll tell you on the way.”

  “The way where?”

  “Home.”

  Chapter 13

  With Chief Steelman struggling to keep up, Alex drove like a mad man to his house. When he arrived, nothing looked amiss. His neighbors were gone on vacation or at work or here, there and everywhere, so the neighborhood itself was blanketed in an almost eerie stillness.

  Pistol drawn, Alex exited the car, breaking into a jog.

  “What are you doing, Alex?”

  “Go around back,” Alex instructed, ignoring his question.

  Kellan stopped Alex, stood in front of him, staring intently.

  “So, you really think just the two of us are going in there?”

  “And the chief,” Alex said, making a head motion toward Chief Steelman, who was approaching at more of a fast walk than a jog.

  “Alex,” Chief Steelman interrupted, “I’m in charge here. I’m still your boss.”

  “All due respect, Chief, your jurisdiction stops in my driveway. I’m the boss here and I’m going in. Cover the front. Kellan, around back, like I said.”

  “Alex,” the chief said, gritting his teeth. “I don’t want to have to stop you again.”

  “Try it,” Alex said, freeing his shirt from the chief’s grip. “I was told to come home. Something’s wrong in there. Kellan cover the back. If you’ve ever cared for me a day in my life, shut up and do what I ask of you right now, you understand?”

  When no further objection came, Alex turned and walked toward the front door.

  Approaching the front door, Alex was careful to examine the surroundings. He glanced toward bushes, gave a quick eye shot to the roof, looked from side to side. He looked, too, for evidence of a crime, whether past or ongoing.

  Reaching his front patio, Alex found the door opened. About an inch of space existed, providing no light or clue as to what may lurk behind. His instinct was to kick the door in and hope that maybe the flailing door smacked somebody in the head. Considering the silliness in such an action, Alex settled in as safe an alignment as he could. Taking the doorknob, he sensed no one was grabbing it on the other side. Driving it open, being careful not to let the door hit anything, Alex thrust his gun forward. The living room was dimly lit to his right. He decided to investigate there first.

  “Hello?” he thought, though he remained silent.

  As he turned toward the dark hallway, a slow methodical survey revealed nothing. And then he saw it.

  “Brandy?”

  As he turned to approach the Mendez canine, he could tell she was panting. Next to her, a pool of vomit had spread toward…

  A pool of blood!

  As soon as Alex saw the blood, he saw the legs. Human legs.

  When he flipped the hall light on, she stirred, moaned.

  “Alyson?”

  Without warning, Brandy’s eyes rolled back. She sneezed, hacked. Her head twitched. Extending all four legs, Brandy fell, rigid, into Alyson’s side.

  Her body seized and then convulsed. Unaware of herself, she vomited, simultaneously losing control of her bladder.

  A hand on his shoulder startled Alex.

  “Chief! Get an ambulance! Get a doctor here quick! A vet and a doctor!”

  “A vet?”

  “Yes! A vet! And a doctor! Do it! Now!”

  Alyson stirred again. Alex saw blo
od on her shoulder. Until he saw the bullet wound, he wasn’t immediately sure if it was her blood or Brandy’s.

  Reaching for Alyson, Alex handed his cell phone to the chief, who quickly pressed buttons, walked a bit down the hall. Still barely in earshot, Alex could hear the chief requesting emergency services and requesting a nearby veterinarian.

  “Alyson, lay still. Ambulance is on its way, sweetie.” He tried to sound as reassuring as possible, while trying to divide his attention between his wounded cousin and his dying fur baby. Alyson moaned in pain. Grunted as she tried to move.

  “No no!” Alex said, gently keeping her still. “Don’t move.”

  Behind him, a whimpering drew his attention.

  “Hey, fella,” he said to his home’s newest addition. “You okay?”

  A quick examination of Buddy revealed no immediate cause of concern.

  He held out his hand, which Buddy licked. He appeared to tremble.

  “Well, at least one of them is okay,” Chief Steelman said, stepping over Alyson’s legs to kneel beside her. Clearing a bit of phlegm from his throat, the chief handed Alex back his phone. “I wish there was some way to interview them.”

  “Already got your first war wound, eh officer?” he said, stepping into that amiable Daddy Tom role that all of his officers had known to love. “Now now, you just lay still,” he added, when she didn’t smile.

  “Aly, what happened? Who did this?”

  “Not now, Alex,” Chief Steelman said, “let’s get these girls stable first.”

  Alyson had lost a lot of blood. The chief had barely finished his statement when Alyson’s eyes rolled back in her head.

  “Chief!” Alex said.

  Checking her pulse, Chief Steelman looked up at Alex. His face was near ashen.

  “Well, little lady,” he said, examining her clothing for anything restrictive, “I apologize ahead of time. I didn’t ever want to know you as well as I’m about to.”

  Bending down, Chief Steelman drew his ear close to Alyson’s mouth.

  “She’s stopped breathing.”

  Before Alex could say another word, the chief began chest compressions.