Jack Del Rio: Complete Trilogy: Reservations, Betrayals, Endgames

by Richard Paolinelli

  “How long have I been out?” Del Rio asked.

  “About six hours now,” Collins replied.

  “That was fast work getting here,” Del Rio said. “That worried about me?”

  “If you weren’t already laid up, I’d come here just to bust you back to the Academy,” Collins answered, half-joking. “I told you, I don’t like it when one of my kids gets shot up and stabbed. You try dealing with Sharon when I tell her about something like this.”

  “Tell Mom I’ll live,” Del Rio said, wincing as he explored the newer injuries. “Barely.”

  Collins quickly gave Del Rio the damage report, adding, “The doctor says you should be fine in a few days.”

  “Optimist,” Del Rio replied. “I like that in a doctor.”

  “No dying on me now, Rock,” Collins said. “Besides you’ve got a ton of accolades coming your way. I send you out on a little domestic terror issue, and you haul off and turn it into an international party. Did you really have to blow a hole in the side of the hospital?”

  “I kept shooting him and he kept standing back up,” Del Rio said. “I was running out of options.”

  “Yeah,” Collins replied. “Tso showed me the body after I got here. He had on enough Kevlar to stop a missile. Even had it layered inside that coyote skin he was wearing. We found the slugs buried in the Kevlar above his chest and forehead. The coroner isn’t sure if the fire or the blast killed him before he got impaled on the fence outside.”

  “I hope he made it to the fence,” Del Rio replied coldly. “He didn’t deserve to go quickly. I assume you’re talking about Uruguay by the way. Drug smuggling?”

  “That and more,” Collins said. “Seems like our Mr. Shelly liked to use a knife on several women, mostly prostitutes, while he was down there during his visits to pick up his drug supply. In addition to rounding up his drug connections across their country, they’ve pinned at least a dozen murders on him so far. It could double or even triple before they are done checking his travel dates with unsolved murders down there. They’re rounding up some people in Arizona that he sold some of the drugs he smuggled up in his granite shipments as well.

  “Like I said, a lot of cops all over the hemisphere want to buy you a drink tonight, Rock. That description of the unique knife, the very same one Shelly used to kill Officer Chee’s parents with by the way, that you posted on VICAP really blew the lid off a lot of cold cases.”

  The mention of Chee’s parents jolted Del Rio as he realized Chee was not in the room. Suddenly, a memory of Chee down on the ground and bleeding with Shelly standing over her, bloody knife in hand, came through with crystal clarity.

  “Lucy?” Del Rio asked urgently. “How is she?”

  The father and friend in Collins wanted to lie, to spare the pain that would accompany an honest answer. He’d been in the Bureau far too long, knew Del Rio too well, not to be able to read the full story behind the way that name had been spoken and the question asked. There was no way to lie to this man about this; it just wasn’t in him to do it.

  “Jack,” Collins began softly and Del Rio pulled away slightly, almost sensing the blow to come. “I’m sorry son, they did all they could. She was cut up too badly inside.”

  Del Rio closed his eyes, the physical pain in his body shunted aside as this fresh pain assaulted him from within. Through the anger, the rage, and the sorrow that roiled inside, he now wished that he hadn’t killed Shelly as quickly as he had.

  He barely registered Yazzie speaking, telling Del Rio that Lucy had known she’d found her parents’ killer and that he had paid for that crime along with his many others at Del Rio’s hand. He omitted the aborted attempt at a final message, not wanting to burden Del Rio with being haunted by those unspoken words.

  “There’s some good from this at least,” Yazzie continued. “She listed herself as an organ donor. In a few hours there will be medical teams from across the country coming here. She’ll save several lives tonight.”

  “Where is she?” Del Rio asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

  “They’ve got her down in surgery on life support while they wait,” Collins said. “They can’t start until those teams arrive.”

  “I want to see her.”

  “Jack, I don’t think…”

  “I want to see her.”

  “Okay son, okay,” Collins relented and went out to flag down the doctor. It was a close thing, given the doctor’s protest about letting Del Rio get up and move around so soon. Collins pointed out that they’d probably have to shoot the man again to stop him; even that might not do it, so how much worse could letting him move around under supervision really be?

  Del Rio painfully slipped out of the bed after they’d rounded up some clean scrubs and some socks to put on. As he got into a wheelchair, he managed to talk the doctor into pulling out the IV, not wanting to have to drag around the bag on a roller.

  Once ready, Collins wheeled Del Rio down the hall towards the elevator. Out in the hallway, Del Rio dropped his hands to the wheels to stop them as he looked at where it had all happened. Crime scene tape was everywhere. The blood stains from where he and Chee had both fallen were still very much visible. The door to the storage room was open with crime scene tape zigzagged across the threshold; Del Rio could see out into the empty lot below.

  It must have been a hell of a blast, he thought as he lifted his hands and allowed Collins to continue on, I’d hate to see the repair bill for this.

  The surgery wing was just off from the ER. Chee was lying in a bed in the first room; the life support equipment keeping her body alive, beeping, clicking, and whirring away as if nothing was wrong. Collins parked the chair next to the bed and locked the wheels. He gently laid a hand on Del Rio’s uninjured shoulder.

  “I’ll be right outside if you need me, Rock,” he said quietly before turning and leaving the room. He took up station out in the hallway in front of the steel doors.

  Del Rio took Chee’s hand in his. It felt warm to the touch. Her chest rose and fell in rhythm. The look on her face, her eyes closed, was peaceful, despite the tube in her mouth. It seemed as if she was merely asleep and would awaken if he called out her name.

  “Lucy,’ he said softly, fearfully. Even a little hopefully.

  The monitors hooked up to her continued to beat out a steady heart rate, but the only one that mattered, the one that tracked brain activity, was the one that dashed all hope with one solid white and horribly flat line.

  Lucy Chee’s body was being kept alive, but the woman who had so suddenly touched his heart was forever gone. Nothing he could do or say would ever bring her back to this life. He bowed his head to lightly kiss her hand, lowered it so that his forehead rested on it and wept.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  “Rock, I’m sorry, but it’s time for them to get started.”

  Del Rio lifted his head up, he hadn’t moved for two hours as he sat in vigil next to Chee. He gently laid her hand back down on the bed and nodded. Collins unlocked the wheels and rolled him out of the room. The surgical team had waited outside as long as they reasonably could. Once Del Rio was out of the room, they quickly went in to begin prepping Chee for the upcoming procedure to harvest her organs.

  The doctor lingered outside, trying to give some comfort by telling Del Rio how she was going to help people he’d never meet, but the words were hollow, giving no comfort at this time. Perhaps later, when the pain of the loss had faded, some comfort could be drawn. Certainly not now. Not tonight.

  “I don’t want to be here,” Del Rio said. “I can’t stay here tonight.”

  “You really need to stay here so…” the doctor began, but Del Rio cut him off.

  “Then get an AMA,” Del Rio said, “and I’ll sign it. I cannot stay inside this building tonight.”

  He’d do it too, Collins knew. Del Rio would sign the form that he was checking himself out of the hospital against his doctor’s medical advice and crawl out the door on his hands and knees if he had to. The d
octor obviously came to the same conclusion with a heavy sigh.

  “I’m going to be in town for a few days, Doc,” Collins interjected. “He’s got a nice big hotel suite with an equally big bed to stay in while he recuperates. I’ll keep an eye on him and at the first sign of trouble, I’ll haul him back in here; handcuff him to a bed if I have to.”

  A discharge bag which included his belongings and what was left of his last suit was handed over. The only exception was his weapon, which had been tagged as evidence by the state police, who had taken over the investigation into the hospital shooting itself.

  Del Rio was wheeled out to a back entrance where one of Yazzie’s aides had driven Collins’ rental car. Etsitty ran interference with the press, which had now grown to include the big networks, by holding a press conference in the front lobby. By the time the presser had concluded, Collins had loaded Del Rio into the car and was pulling up to the hotel. Night was just falling, and Collins caught his first look at the exterior light show.

  “Damn,” he said, staring at the lights for a moment before hustling Del Rio inside.

  The night manager scurried around the pair offering to help in any way possible, or to at least bring food to the room. Collins politely thanked the man and told him he’d let him know if they needed anything, then herded Del Rio toward his room.

  Once there, Del Rio found that a cleaning crew had come in and straightened up. The bed was made, the coral and turquoise necklace Chee had been wearing, had forgotten to pick up before dressing, had been carefully laid out on the nightstand. The shirt that she had worn ever so briefly just the night before, was carefully draped across a chair. Picking up the shirt, he caught a slight whiff of her scent on it. He reached in the discharge bag for the clear evidence bag someone had put the remains of his jacket in, opened it and dumped the jacket out onto the floor before carefully folding the shirt and slipping it into the bag. After sealing it, he laid it on top of his open suitcase. Grimacing, he then sat down on the bed without pulling back the bedcovers.

  He picked up the necklace, surprised by how warm the larger stone felt to his touch and gripped it firmly in his right hand before laying his head back on the pillow and slowly pulling each leg up on the bed. Exhausted in mind, body and spirit, he was asleep in seconds.

  Collins walked into the room and found him that way a few minutes later. Not wanting to wake him, Collins turned around and stripped two blankets off one of the smaller beds placing them over Del Rio. He turned off the lights and exited the room, leaving the door open behind him, and started packing up the boxes of documents and material to be returned to their respective agencies.

  After sealing up the last of the boxes, Collins poked his head back into the room long enough to check on Del Rio, whose soft snores confirmed he was very much asleep. Closing the door, Collins drew out his cell phone and dialed a D.C. number.

  “It’s Baker,” he said softly. “He’s expected to fully recover. I expect he’ll be back at work within three weeks and will be available for the assignment as planned.”

  “Yes, of course,” Collins replied. “There should be no impact on the schedule. He is the best man for the job. If I may, I’d like to renew my request to fully read him in. I assure you he can be completely trusted….”

  Collins paused as he listened to the lengthy reply on the other end.

  “I understand,” he said with a hint of disappointment in his voice. “No, I should be back in D.C. in a few days. I can give you a full status update when I return. Good night.”

  Collins disconnected the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket with a discontented sigh. For just a few brief moments, he considered ignoring the decision he’d just been given before discarding the idea. He’d address the issue when he got back east and could make his case in person. Resisting the fatherly urge to go check on Del Rio one more time, Collins got ready for bed and was very nearly asleep before his body made contact with the sheet.

  ****

  While the two exhausted men slept, four flights landed at Gallup’s airport and departed again within an hour to save five lives and give a young teen in Nebraska her sight back.

  ****

  If anyone had been concerned that Del Rio would try to get up and move around too early, they needn’t have worried. The next morning saw the sun rise and nearly make it halfway across the sky before Del Rio even woke up. The slightest move on his part was announced by an accompanying groan and an eventual declaration of permanent residency in his bed.

  He ate a little, drank enough water to drown a whale and just let his battered body heal. The doctor swung by for an impromptu house call and pronounced Del Rio in good shape considering, then admonished him to take it easy when a plea to return to the hospital was denied. Sharon had called to mother hen him as much as she could from long distance. Her husband had filled her in on Chee, so she tactfully avoided bringing up anything painful.

  “Yes, Mom,” Del Rio replied teasingly after she’d reached the end of a rather lengthy list of do’s and don’ts and promptly received an only half-teasing admonishment about sassing his elders in return. Sharon’s southern drawl and manner of speaking became pronounced when she was at her most serious.

  The media had descended on the hotel. Someone had blabbed that Del Rio was out, but they didn’t stay long once the state police announced that Del Rio’s shooting Shelly was more than justified, and for all intents and purposes the investigations into the murders was pretty much closed, now that the killer himself was dead. A sudden political scandal in Phoenix that reached all the way back to D.C. drew away the national and regional press and Etsitty expertly kept the local media at bay.

  An express deliveryman showed up at Del Rio’s room with a rather large, not very wide, box in hand. Inside were four new suits, some casual white shirts and black slacks from Bernetti’s in Baltimore. Del Rio read the note attached to the slacks from the old man himself, chiding him as expected about Del Rio taking better care of the clothes they made for him, and informing him that the bill for this particular set of clothes had been picked up courtesy of the Navajo Nation.

  “Is this legal?” Del Rio asked Collins, showing him the note.

  “I think we look the other way on this one and graciously say you’re welcome to your thank you gift,” Collins replied. “By the way, Yazzie told the hospital the Nation was picking up the check for the damage done to the second floor, including your grand finale I might add, and would be taking care of the families of their employees that Shelly killed.”

  “Good,” Del Rio said with a nod of approval as he hung up the new clothes. He was probably moving around too much. He’d had enough of just lying in bed. So he did a little here, rested a bit, and did a little more there.

  To his surprise a knock on the door announced the arrival of Emerson Jim to his room.

  “Speaker Jim,” Del Rio waved the man in. “Please come in.”

  “Thank you. No need for you to leave the room,” Jim said as Collins headed for the adjoining room. “What I’ve come to say should be heard by you as well, Director.”

  Del Rio sat down in one of the chairs and gestured for Jim to take the other, but the Speaker declined. Instead he took up station next to the window and spent a few seconds silently looking outside. Collins, still standing by the door to the other room, exchanged a puzzled glance with Del Rio.

  “I wanted to come see you privately,” Jim finally began after turning away from the window, “to thank you officially for bringing Shelly to justice, and to apologize for any hostility you may have felt from me or any member of my staff.”

  Del Rio started to reply, but stopped as Jim quickly raised his hand.

  “No,” Jim said. “I understand why you suspected me, and why you conducted your interviews in the manner you did. I do not blame you for any of that, nor do I expect you to apologize for any of it. You have nothing to apologize for. I, on the other hand…”

  “Sir?” Del Rio prompted wh
en Jim drifted off into silence.

  “These past few weeks I have been quietly working behind the scenes to have Ben Yazzie removed from office,” Jim said, the shame he felt clearly on his face and in his voice. “I was counting to see if I finally had enough votes, when word reached us in Window Rock of the shootout at the hospital here.”

  “I had counted Shelly as one of my good friends and closest political allies.” Jim continued. “To find out that I had aligned myself with such a monster is an unforgivable disgrace.”

  “Does Ben know what you were trying to do?” asked Collins who did little to hide the anger he felt on behalf of his friend.

  “I told him not an hour ago when I visited him in his room at the hospital,” Jim said, accepting the rebuke in Collins’ tone. “I asked him if he could ever forgive an old man who’d begrudged the younger generation their youth, and then I handed him my resignation as Speaker.”

  Del Rio felt both eyebrows rocket up his forehead in surprise.

  “And what did he say?” Del Rio asked.

  “He accepted my apology, took the letter out of my hand and ripped it to pieces,” Jim replied with a chuckle. “Wouldn’t accept it. Told me we’d lost enough good people from the Council, and he wasn’t about to let another go so soon. Then he asked me if we could work together for the betterment of our people.”

  “And?”

  “I think I can. Ben’s a better man, a better leader, than I gave him credit for. All I can do is hope to be a better Speaker than I was before this all happened.”

  Del Rio gently rose from his chair and extended his hand out to his visitor.

  “I think you can be that, Emerson,” Del Rio said. “You’re a better man than you’re giving yourself credit for.”

  As Jim took the proffered hand, Collins watched in silence and was once more impressed by Del Rio. Collins doubted Del Rio was even aware of it himself, it seemed to be ingrained in every fiber of him, this quality of grace and inner strength that everyone seemed to automatically respond to. Speaker Jim had entered this room a shamed man and was going to exit with his pride restored.