The muzzle blasts gave Madero a general location of where the shooter might be. He wasted no time aiming his weapon and pulled the trigger on his department-issued Smith & Wesson. Madero put all fifteen rounds into the area where he believed the shooter’s chest and head were. He prayed he had gotten lucky and snagged a headshot.
As quickly as he emptied the magazine, he released it from the gun, pocketed it, and replaced it with a fully loaded one. He was locked and loaded in seconds. These bullets had to count. It was all he had left. He dropped low, hoping he had enough brush covering him. But he knew he couldn’t stay still, not if the shooter was still alive. One more thing worried Madero: the gunshot he heard on the other side of the cabin. The Carters were out hunting.
78
Katherine didn’t have time to think the situation through thoroughly. She reacted and ran straight for the side of the house when she heard the barrage of return fire that followed what she was sure to be Preston’s double tap. He missed. She crouched beneath the window on the right side of the cabin, her back pressed up hard against the wood as she caught her breath. Her eyes completed multiple sweeps of the area but nobody came into view. She struggled to quiet herself. She was convinced her labored breaths and thumping heart would give her location away.
She inched forward to the front of the house and peeked around onto the porch. Still her night vision revealed no one. Where were they? Had the cabin been compromised? She fell back to the window. Tremors ran through her hands and her rasping breath had become uneven and more pronounced. Stay calm. Focus.
She had heard nothing since the last barrage of gunfire. She struggled to keep her thoughts focused; she had no idea if Preston was dead or alive. It terrified her to think she might be by herself. But more importantly, she worried about the boys. Were they still safe?
In the span of a few minutes, the strong matriarch of the family had gone from confident leader to terrified mother. She couldn’t stop thinking about her two boys. Suddenly, images of Jackson and Lorenzo lying dead in a pool of blood filled her head. No! She jerked her head. Tears poured down her cheeks. Her bottom lip quivered uncontrollably. Katherine crumpled to the ground. I can’t lose the boys. I can’t! What if I gave up? I could say Preston made me a prisoner and forced me. Would they believe me? That maternal instinct kicked in. All Katherine could think about was protecting her kids, even if that meant giving herself up.
She flipped the night vision goggles up and brushed her hair from her face. Slowly, she raised herself up until her eyes could see through the dusty window. Her vision was slightly obstructed, and she needed to be sure if someone was inside or not. She pulled down on the sleeve of her sweater so it covered her palm and wiped a very tiny portion of the lower corner of the window so she could peek through again. She saw nothing.
• • •
I hid easily in the darkness at the top of the stairs with my black jeans and blue long-sleeve shirt. It’s the only reason why I could look directly at Katherine while her eyes glazed over my position. I had initially heard someone bump up against the side of the house. A few seconds later, I had seen her head pop up for just split second, but I instantly recognized the headgear she had on. Night vision goggles. Solis and Madero were easy targets. They never had a chance against the couple.
And now the dynamic duo had me in their sights.
Katherine peeked inside once more, sans goggles, and then disappeared, but it was easy to track her. I heard her step up onto the porch. If she hadn’t noticed the missing lock, she would any second now. Until then, she probably thought the house had not been breached. I knew she wanted into the bedroom where her children were. That’s where she would make her stand. Not knowing the situation outside, I had to assume the worst: Solis and Madero were down and the wolves were coming into the den.
I couldn’t wait any longer. I took a chance Katherine was in front of the door. I lifted my weapon and unloaded my entire magazine, starting near the bottom of the door, shooting up methodically—hoping I would hit her.
• • •
Madero knew his next move had to be to a place providing better coverage. He was an open target in the woods and no match against a pair of night vision-wearing lunatics. If he could get to the space between the SUV and the house, he would have the protection he needed. Whoever had shot at him would have no choice but to come out into the open.
Madero gave himself the best starting block takeoff he could manage. He ran hard and straight. Not once did he look around at his surrounding area. The way Madero saw it, if he got hit, he got hit.
As soon as he exited the tree line, he heard rapid gunfire. Madero ducked his head and kept running, all while wondering how many times he had been shot. He slid into the gap between the house and the vehicle like a ballplayer. Looking back and forth between the front and back of the vehicle, he waited for his attacker to show but no one came. He lowered his gun and patted himself, checking for wounds. What the...? He thought for sure he had taken a slug.
With no movement in the woods, Madero figured he had hit his target, or at least wounded it. What about the other gunfire? Who were they shooting at? Solis? Kane? For some reason, his gut told him the husband had hunted him. Madero pulled out his cell and sent a text to Kane and Solis, wondering who was still alive.
79
My phone buzzed against my leg, causing my body to jerk. I reached into my jean pocket and pulled out my cell. Madero was alive. I quickly answered him. “I’m okay. In the house. You? Solis?”
Madero buzzed me a second later. “I’m okay. Between Rover and house. Solis MIA.”
“There’s a door, back of house. I’m at top of stairs,” I texted.
Madero responded, “I’m coming in.”
Seconds later I heard the door open and close. “Madero,” I whispered.
“I’m inside,” he said. I watched Madero move into view at the bottom of the stairs.
“Katherine was in front of the door. I think I hit her.”
“No shit,” he said looking at all the bullet holes. Madero continued forward until he had his back up against the wall near the hinged part of the front door. I moved so he could see me on the stairs. He nodded and I motioned to him to pull the door open. I aimed the barrel of my gun straight ahead.
Madero reached across the door, slipped his fingers into a bullet hole, and pulled. The door swung open as he moved to the side and raised his weapon in case a madman or woman came running in. No one did.
Katherine lay curled up on the porch. Madero moved toward the doorway.
“Is she dead?” I asked.
Madero leaned over for a closer look. He then fired off a round. “If she wasn’t, she is now,” he said turning around with a spiteful look.
I couldn’t believe what I had witnessed. Did Madero just murder Katherine, or was she already dead? Did I even care?
Madero continued to look my way, waiting for an answer to what he just did. What he got instead, neither of us saw coming.
An arm reached around Madero’s neck and pulled back, twisting his head off to the side. When he turned back toward me, his eyes widened in disbelief. Blood gushed down his throat as he cupped his neck with his right hand.
What was happening? He shot her. I saw it myself.
Madero dropped to his knees, his stare never leaving mine as he gasped for air. I shook my head. It couldn’t be. No!
Grinning from cheek to cheek behind Madero stood a tall, bloodied man with his tousled mane matted to the sides of his face. I knew that hair, no mistaking it; Preston Carter was alive.
Quicker than I could ever have imagined, he moved from the door to the bottom of the stairs and bounded up, two at a time. I raised my weapon. Preston closed in on me—only four steps away. His arm swung upward. The scalpel still gripped tightly. My weapon had yet to finish its upward swing. He was too close. I needed more room and pressed up further against the door. I had time for one shot. Make it count, Abby.
80
I let out a large breath of air, not realizing I had been holding it. My eyes were transfixed on Preston’s lifeless body, as if I somehow expected him to rise up and come after me again. Was he dead? Should I incorporate the Madero Method? I looked at the slumped over detective. He was still alive before Preston made his move toward me, but now he lay motionless. They were all dead, I thought, until I heard a noise behind the door. A soft crying, barely audible.
I pressed the left side of my face against the cool wood, so my lips were where the door met the frame.
“Lorenzo? Jackson? Can you hear me? It’s Agent Kane… Everything is okay. No one is going to hurt you… You’re safe now. Please unlock the door.”
I listened for movement and heard rustling, followed by squeaks in the floorboards. The knob jiggled, and then I heard a click. Slowly the door opened, revealing a little boy with puffy, red eyes. I quickly entered the darkened room and shut the door behind me. “You must be Jackson,” I said.
He nodded his head before jumping into my arms. “Everything is fine,” I whispered, my eyes searched for his brother. He sat quietly in the corner, sniffling. I reached out with my arm. “Come, Lorenzo. You’re safe. I won’t hurt you.”
81
It was a long night at the cabin.
I stayed in the room with the boys until the first unit arrived. There were three mattresses laid across the floor, taking up the width. The space was obviously a makeshift bedroom, and long stays, if any, were not the norm. The boys continued to ask about their parents, especially the little one, Jackson.
“Mommy and Daddy are very sick. They have to see a doctor.” I didn’t want to lie, but what else could I tell them?
“Are they going to be okay?” Jackson asked.
“Let’s hope so.” I gave him a hug.
I felt terrible for the two. They were young and innocent. Clearly they loved their mother and had only done what she had asked them to. I didn’t blame them. In fact, it angered me that she had taken advantage of them. It reminded me of those parents who used their kids to distract salespeople so they could shoplift. What a despicable act.
When I first entered the attic space, I noticed an earbud from an mp3 player in Jackson’s ear. The other one dangled in front of his chest; it’s probably why he heard me and opened the door. A tiny window allowed a few rays of moonlight into the room, but my eyes still needed time to adjust.
I fetched my mini flashlight from my pocket and surveyed the boys and the rest of the room. They were both dressed in jeans, sweaters, and Tiger’s baseball caps. Each had their own backpack filled with a change of clothes and a few toys and books. Lorenzo also had an mp3 player and used it while sitting contently in the corner.
I spotted a mini cooler against the wall. Inside were juice containers, a couple of yogurts, and a plastic dish with chopped fruit inside. Jackson crawled over.
“Would you like something to eat?” I asked.
He nodded and pointed to a container filled with fruit. Before popping a grape into his mouth, he smiled at me, the first and only smile I would see all night. Obviously thought had gone into keeping the boys comfortable—though I suspected the real purpose of the mp3 players was to shield them from hearing what was likely to happen outside the room.
As the night wore on, Jackson succumbed to sleep while his head lay in my lap. I ran my fingers through his hair and couldn’t help but wonder about what effects all that had happened would have on them. Were they damaged goods? Would they remember anything? Worse yet, would they turn out like their parents? Did either of the two inherit the genetic makeup for violent behavior?
My eyes welled as these sad thoughts flowed through my head. I couldn’t imagine my kids having to endure such an ordeal. It made me miss Ryan and Lucy even more. Interestingly enough, I couldn’t help but compare myself to Katherine. Even with all she and Preston were facing, that woman still had the mindset to ensure the boys were comfortable and taken care of. Part of me had expected the boys to be half-dressed, hungry, and in need of a bath. It was quite the opposite. Was she a better mother to her kids than I was to mine?
I quickly shook that thought out of my head. It was ridiculous to even think that. Katherine was nothing more than a cold-blooded killer, right?
I called out more than once for Lorenzo to join us, but he wouldn’t budge, which was fine by me. In all honesty, I couldn’t quite tell if he knew what had taken place outside that door. Was the young boy smart enough to know what his parents had planned, or worse, what they were? I was pretty sure in little Jackson’s eyes, Katherine was simply Mom.
When I heard the approach of the first siren, I told both boys, “Lock the door and don’t open it for anybody but me.” I wanted to get them out of there as soon as possible, but I also didn’t want them to see what had happened to their parents.
It took time, but we were able to remove the boys an hour later when Child Protective Services arrived. The bodies were still strewn about the cabin floor, so we did our best to cover them before I escorted the two boys out.
A few officers found Solis’ body off to the right side of the house. He had suffered a fatal gunshot to the head. Preston Carter had been shot multiple times, but they were all superficial wounds, hence the reason for his reprieve. I’d gotten lucky with Katherine and had hit her three times in the chest. From the look of the wounds, it should have killed her, but I couldn’t be sure. I knew her autopsy would reveal that the head wound came from Madero’s gun. Maybe she did move. Maybe she did reach for her gun. Sitting at the top of the stairs, I couldn’t see her. Madero’s wide stance had blocked my view.
When Lieutenant White arrived, he made it his business to find me right away. One look at his body movement told me he wasn’t happy about the situation. I thought he would be, considering we had caught the killers.
“I told you guys to stay put. I know you got my message, so don’t say you didn’t.”
“Had we waited and mobilized with a tactical unit, we would have run the risk of the Carters disappearing for good.”
“You don’t know that!”
“You keep telling me what I know. Guess what? I know I caught the killers,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. It didn’t matter what White had to say; I was determined to stand my ground—even when he delivered a cheap blow.
“And got Solis and Madero killed.”
Insinuating their deaths were the result of my judgment call was beyond bullshit. I took a deep breath in hopes it would help to calm my nerves. I was a popcorn kernel of a degree away from exploding. “Look, Lieutenant, we all knew the risk.” My voice was steadier than I had anticipated. “No one was forced to do anything here. So don’t you dare accuse me of endangering your men.”
“All I’m doing is pointing—”
“Don’t interrupt me. I have the floor, and you will show me a little respect and hear what I have to say. Is that understood?” I knew White was a ranking officer with Detroit police but he wasn’t my boss. And anyway, it went beyond protocol; it was about common courtesy. White gritted his teeth and pursed his lips before acknowledging me with a nod.
“We couldn’t risk waiting,” I continued. “They were heading back underground.”
“Why would you think that? There are six RRs. There’s still one left.”
“Not true. According to Ellen Scott, there were five, not six. Elliot Hardin made a mistake.”
“What makes you so quick to believe her over Hardin?”
I shrugged. “She was adamant about it. My guess is, they were more afraid of what would happen if they came out than they were of the Carters. And as you can see,
” I said looking around us, “the Carters went on the run.”
White let out a deep breath and rubbed his hand back and forth over his bald head. “That doesn’t mean there aren’t six RRs,” he mumbled as he turned away to look at the property. “We lost two good men today,” he said, still facing away from me.
“Don’t you think I know that?” I shook my head and shifted my weight to my other leg. I looked around at the manpower surrounding me, the people dusting, bagging, and photographing, even the ones moving the bodies. They were all here to help to bring the case to a close. You did well, Agent. That was the phrase that should accompany my internal pat on the back.
I’m guessing from the way White’s shoulders dropped, he accepted the reality of what had happened. He further deflated by letting out a heavy breath and lowering his head. His eyes eventually found their way back to me. “Agent Kane, you did good. You got our killers in the end.”
I nodded in agreement.
“Don’t think I’m against you here. I do appreciate everything you’ve done.”
I let my gaze roam the scene around us. It had started to grow chaotic. Different departments of law enforcement had descended onto the property. I didn’t even want to think about the manpower needed for the forensics investigation of all those burial plots. Unimaginable. But it was over. That’s what mattered.
Still, there was one bit that bothered me—the cover-up. “Lieutenant,” I said, “I found a book at the Carter’s residence. It’s what led us here.” I filled him in on the details.
“So you’re saying from the Garrison arrest forward, they hunted various street people and then buried all of those victims here?”
I nodded. “Well, we’re assuming their victims were street people. No one to report their disappearance. We’ll know for sure once they start uncovering the bodies.”
Corktown Page 18