A Taste of Tragedy

by Kim McMahill

  Nature embraced her, making her worries fade into the recesses of her mind. The contrast of color, pale green vegetation against a backdrop of rust-red soil meeting a baby-blue sky, made her desire to paint resurface. As a teen, she had enjoyed painting, especially with watercolors, but her parents wanted her to focus on practical things like her education and continuing the family tradition of successful business professionals. They often reminded her of how few people could make real money with artistic careers. Being the dutiful daughter she was, she put down the brush and picked up trade journals and started following stock and business trends.

  She approached a small seasonal stream. By mid-summer, it was generally dry, but today, it ran deep enough that she stopped to lock in the four-wheel drive. Normally, she would creep across the creek, but she couldn’t resist the urge to stomp on the gas. As she plowed into the stream, water fanned out behind her and she hooted at the top of her lungs. If felt good to be rash and reckless for a change with no one around to lecture her on proper behavior.

  For the rest of the day, she drove as many dirt roads as she could, sticking to those familiar from her childhood. In town, everything had changed, but out here, the scenery looked just like it did when she was younger, maybe even more vibrant. Absence did make the heart grow fonder.

  Stopping on a bluff, she killed the engine. She grabbed the next-to-last-bottle of water out of the cooler and an energy bar. She stood up on the seat, leaning back against the roll bar. Looking out over the rugged landscape, the view nearly brought tears to her eyes. The red desert fanned out before her as far as the eye could see, and she couldn’t spot a single other human or vehicle. She had this piece of paradise all to herself.

  She had lived in so many big cities and had sacrificed everything for the job. Not any more—if she couldn’t have this and a career, something would have to go, and she had no intention of selling her home in Sedona.

  She had wanted to make her parents proud, but at what cost? They were gone, and she was here. It was time to think about what was truly important in life.

  After draining the bottle of water, Morgan decided she needed to head back. It was an unwritten rule when out here to always head for home before the water ran out, not after. With hesitation, she began the slow drive back to the house.

  * * *

  The sun was slowly descending toward the horizon by the time Aaron hiked to Morgan’s house. He removed his sneakers and hid them under a bush. With stocking feet, he stepped on rocks where possible to avoid leaving prints in the soft earth. He crept to the side of the garage. No windows. He slipped behind the house and carefully peered in a window that looked into the kitchen. There were no lights on, but he spotted a laptop on the counter.

  Aaron inched toward the sliding glass doors that led from the back patio to the kitchen. As he reached for the handle, he heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. Quickly retracing his steps, he slithered back into the brush and watched as an older model Jeep covered with red dust cruised down the paved track toward the house.

  The double-car garage door eased up. As the vehicle approached, he instantly recognized the driver as Morgan. Her long brunette hair was bound in a high ponytail stuffed through the back of a billed baseball cap and she wore sunglasses, but he had no doubt it was the same classy woman from the office.

  He cursed his timing. If he’d arrived here a little earlier, he would have had the opportunity to search the place. Clearly, she had been out, and by the looks of the Jeep, she had likely spent the day in the hills.

  Aaron wasn’t sure if he should wait to see if she left again or give up for the night, find some place to stay, and try again in the morning once she left for work. Depending on if she went back to her house or straight to work, she would need to leave by 4:00 or 5:00 a.m. Looking at his watch, he decided the best plan was to hike back to his car, drive to a nearby town, find a hotel, and try again in the morning.

  Pulling his hikers back on and lacing them up, Aaron made a wide circle around her house to avoid being seen and resumed the fifteen-minute hike back to his car.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  The floral shipment was due to arrive as cargo on a commercial aircraft within minutes. If TSA’s Transportation Security Inspectors verified the crates held more than flowers, things were bound to get exciting. Agents from the FBI and Metro Task Force were staged, waiting for verification.

  From their vantage point, Devyn and Nick were able to get a visual on the truck which would pick up the shipment and transport it back to the warehouse. They were already in place and had been waiting for over half an hour when the truck pulled up to the gated cargo area.

  Devyn glanced over at Nick and noticed him checking his cell phone for the third time in the last hour. Nick was nothing if not a creature of habit, and his behavior over the past few days was out of character.

  “Nick, are you sure your head is in the game? You seem distracted and apparently, you’re expecting a call. If you’re not one-hundred percent focused, you’re a danger to yourself and everyone around you, specifically me.”

  “I’m fine. And no, I’m not expecting a call. I’ll be ready when it counts. The plane hasn’t even landed yet,” Nick replied.

  “Okay. You know I’m only looking out for you, which would be easier if you told me what’s going on.”

  “I got it, and I appreciate knowing you have my back. You of all people should understand there are just certain parts of one’s private life that you just want to keep that way.”

  “In your case, I’d say all of it.”

  “You’re exaggerating. You’ve been in my apartment multiple times, and you’ve met every woman I’ve dated in the past year. I’ll bet you’re only one of two people in the world that could order for me at a restaurant and who knows how I like my coffee.”

  “Next thing you know, I’ll be finishing your sentences,” she mumbled dryly. “We’re practically a couple. No, I take that back. You’re apparently not interested in a long-term commitment, Mr. Date-them-once-and-drop-them.”

  He chuckled. “I just haven’t met a woman lately who I can relate to, except you, and you’re all hung up on a rural sheriff.”

  “Very funny. You’ve already informed me that we are like oil and water, so it would never work.”

  “No, we wouldn’t work romantically, but I think we mesh pretty darn well as a team. We do relate well to each other. You don’t scare or intimidate me, and you are great at your job. I respect your work ethic, dedication, and there’s no one I trust more with my back then you. I think you respect me professionally too, and I hope you trust me as well.”

  Darn, she hated it when he was right. She not only respected Nick as a peer, but she admired his demeanor and the smooth way he got things done.

  “Yep, I do trust and respect you.”

  “See how well we know each other?”

  Devyn rolled her eyes and shook her head in frustration. She picked up the binoculars and focused in on the truck. It sat idle, its two occupants obscured inside the truck with its visors down.

  The radio crackled to life and confirmed the shipments were hot and on the move. Devyn sat up straighter, and she noticed Nick stowing his phone out of the corner of her eye. The truck backed slowly into position and the two burly men exited the vehicle.

  Half a dozen large crates were unloaded from the aircraft and placed in the back of the enclosed truck. Devyn watched through binoculars as the driver signed for the shipment. He and another man got into the truck and drove up to the gate. After a few seconds, the gate rolled open, and the vehicle headed away from the airport.

  Devyn and Nick waited out of sight as the truck drove past. The tail was well choreographed. They would stay put until the next team of agents reported the vehicle’s passing and confirmed the route, and then she and Nick would move out. The reporting team would wait until the next team reported in before joining the tail, and so on. Once they were all on the road, they would pull off and
let the next pass, and then pull back in after the last car in the convoy. The method of rotating the tails would hopefully avoid tipping off the suspects that they were being followed.

  Once reaching the floral shop, each agent checked in and then left their rig, moving in on foot, closing the net tighter around the shipment. Devyn and Nick got into position and waited for Gardner to give the signal. They watched as the first two crates were unloaded and taken into the warehouse.

  “Now,” Gardner ordered.

  Twelve agents stepped into view, all wearing Kevlar® vests and brandishing automatic rifles. Despite the odds and the command to put their hands in the air, Devyn didn’t really expect the thugs unloading the truck to drop their weapons.

  The first shot came from the rooftop of the three-story building housing the floral shop. Devyn returned fire as both sides scrambled for cover. The normally quiet Sunday afternoon exploded with gunfire, and chaos reigned.

  Per the plan, Devyn and Nick left their post and made their way to the front of the building to back up the two Metro agents already blocking that escape route. If the activity in the alley didn’t draw out the owner and it stayed quiet up front, they were to enter from the front.

  “Any movement?” she asked the closest agent.

  “Nothing.”

  “Okay, one of you keep an eye on the upper floor windows and the other cover us. Nick and I are going in.”

  The agents nodded and Nick and Devyn positioned themselves at the front corner of the building.

  “Still clear?” she whispered in her mic.

  “All clear.”

  With Nick at her heels, they raced past the front glass store window which had decorative wrought iron over the glass to prevent a break-in. They came to a stop on both sides of the door., their backs pressed against the exterior brick. Devyn exhaled with relief, knowing how vulnerable they were while passing the window. Thankfully, they weren’t spotted by anyone inside.

  “Still clear,” the agent watching the door replied.

  Devyn tested the door. It was solid and locked.

  “I don’t think we’re going to bust through this. You got the explosives?” Devyn asked into the mic.

  Devyn and Nick watched for any activity while the Metro agent quickly joined them. He placed a small explosive device in a strategic location on the door and motioned for them to get out of the way.

  The moment they cleared the corner of the building, they heard a loud pop. Devyn had expected something more dramatic. When she peeked around the corner, the door was swinging open—clearly the charge was meant to break the lock, not tear out a wall.

  With the two other agents back in position, Devyn and Nick entered the dark front of the store, issuing a running commentary as they proceeded.

  They could hear the war still raging in the alley. Nothing indicated either side was gaining the upper hand. With law enforcement and the thugs both behind cover and well-armed, the standoff could go on until someone ran out of ammo.

  As they eased into the back storeroom, they spotted the two crates unloaded from the truck. A quick scan of the room indicated it was clear. The proprietor was nowhere in sight.

  “Great, he must have headed up,” Devyn stated.

  “I hope he’s alone. Nothing worse than a gunfight on a staircase, especially when you’re on the bottom,” Nick said.

  They reported the status inside the building and then slowly began the ascent. On the second level, they quickly searched the floor and found no one. Devyn eased around the landing leading to the final set of stairs and a shot buzzed past her shoulder.

  “Good news is he must not have an automatic weapon. Bad news, he’s got the strategic position,” Devyn stated as she quickly retreated to Nick’s location. “Gardner, how’s it going out there?” Devyn whispered into her mic.

  “Winding down. We’ve got two die-hards still defending the truck, but everyone is swept from the roof.”

  “Can I get a clear bead on the hold-outs from the back door?” she asked.

  “Sure,” Gardner replied.

  “The owner is on the third floor. He’s firing at us, so we can’t get up the stairs. Someone is going to have to come in from the top,” Devyn stated.

  “As soon as we corral these last two, we can send a group up to the roof,” Gardner replied.

  “Nick, don’t let the suspect back down.”

  He nodded, not needing any further instructions after hearing her end of the conversation.

  Devyn retraced her steps to the first floor supply room. She inched the door open just enough to look out and spotted the two guys in question. Both had their backs to her, focusing on the agents in front of them.

  Wasting no time, she eased the door open, but only stepped far enough out to speak, exposing as little of herself as possible. She waited until she spotted Gardner and was certain he saw her.

  “Drop your weapons.”

  Both men reflexively swung around in unison, turning their backs on the agents. The distraction was all Gardner’s men needed to pounce.

  As the two men were cuffed, Gardner ordered three men to the roof. “Give them five minutes to get in place and then we’ll move,” Gardner stated.

  “Got it,” Devyn stated as she retreated back into the building and returned to Nick. “Five minutes. Well, four by now.”

  Nick nodded and glanced at his watch. They waited until they heard shots and glass breaking in the third-floor windows and then dashed up the stairs. Nick hit the old wooden door with his shoulder and it collapsed. The owner was so distracted by the shots coming in through the window that he didn’t even react to the noise Nick created.

  Devyn took her opportunity and made a running tackle, slamming into the man’s back at a full run. He hit the floor hard, sending his gun flying. Devyn’s weight on top of him knocked the air from the man’s lungs. Before he could catch his breath and fight, she had his hands pulled behind his back and his wrists secured with a plastic zip-tie.

  “Cease fire. The subject is subdued,” Devyn ordered into her mic, gasping for breath.

  Devyn stood and Nick helped her pull the shop owner and drug supplier to his feet. Two men, who had been rappelling down the building as a sniper provided cover, came through the broken window.

  “What took you so long?” Devyn asked.

  The lead man smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry. We’ll do a sweep in case you missed anyone.”

  “Geez, thanks,” she replied as they ushered the supplier down the stairs.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Sofia always saved Sundays for herself, a day to relieve the stress of the previous week and rejuvenate her spirit for the week to come. She slept until seven, hours later than her usual wake up time, enjoyed a leisurely cup of coffee on her small balcony, and read all sections of the newspaper including the fluff.

  After reading the paper, she jogged to the gym, located three miles away, for an extended workout. She tried to allow an hour every day for martial arts to release pent up anxiety and keep her reflexes sharp, but Sundays were reserved for a complete traditional routine, including strength training, yoga, and cardio.

  With a more rigorous workout than normal complete, she stepped out onto the street and began her jog home. As she rounded the corner of the block leading to her condo, she felt her cell phone vibrate.

  Cursing the intrusion on her day through clenched teeth, she pulled the device out of the small pocket sewn inside her running shorts. She had no friends and no family, so a call on Sunday couldn’t be good. The lack of caller ID on the display confirmed her suspicion that it wasn’t Justine or anyone else she worked with at BCF.

  “Yes,” she gasped as she slowed to a walk.

  “My darling, you leave me breathless as well.”

  She wished she could take pleasure in the flirtatious greeting from a wealthy and handsome man, but there was no point. J.R. was not the sincere, one-woman, settle-down-and-have-a-family type of man, and she had no d
esire to be another one of his toys he pulled off the shelf whenever he got bored. Unfortunately, Sofia feared she had become just that, and she mentally chastised herself for wishing it could be more. Some women could have it all, but she wasn’t naïve enough to think she could be one of them.

  “I’m nearly finished with my run. Can this wait?” She knew the answer. J.R. never waited for anyone, but she had to try to establish boundaries wherever she could.

  “You don’t sound as if you’re still basking in the glow of our latest tryst.”

  She knew it could be dangerous to offend him, but she had to find a way to reestablish a more professional balance of power.

  “I wouldn’t exactly call it a tryst. The entire group was called together for an emergency meeting to strategize on how to minimize the potential damage from the developing situation in Arizona.”

  “Yes, but you’re the only one who stayed over to, shall we say, socialize.”

  Sofia took a deep breath. She regretted not flying home that day right after the meeting. J.R. had insisted she stay and she had caved to his desires, as usual. The worst part was that she suspected the others knew about her and J.R. They had probably lost all respect for her, mistakenly believing it was her body, not her brains, that had gained J.R.’s trust and respect.

  “What do you want?”

  “You know better than anyone else what I want, but since that is impossible to accomplish long distance, I’ll get to the point. Our member in Arizona appears to be in over his head. I need you to go and clean up his mess and make sure he doesn’t continue to put us all in jeopardy. As you keep reminding us, we are no longer operating off the radar after the mishaps in Wyoming and Utah.”

  “A capable resource is already in place to monitor the situation in Arizona and take care of any mishaps?”

  “Yes, but clearly that resource could use a little guidance from his mentor, or we wouldn’t be in this situation. I need you to watch, report back to me, and reeducate your former employee on giving due attention to the smallest details, since those are often the ones that come back to haunt us. I’m losing faith in local management to contain the situation. You make much more rational decisions, and I trust your judgment to take action as necessary.”