When it was time for her to leave, Leroy said, “UH-UH, nothing doing. She’s coming with us.”
The mosquitoes were the worst thing about the whole trip, waiting around for the two palookas to take care of their business got Ginger bitten all over. She was glad when they were finished, a girl could only take so much embarrassment and discomfort. At the time of the rape, because that’s what Ginger thought of when she remembered, she was kind of turned on. Not that she wanted anybody to force her, but watching the girl get it from two guys made her tingle a little; that was a surprise. The killing didn’t worry her too much; people died every day; that was just her day. She gave an exaggerated shudder, running the fingers of her left hand ran through her hair, remembering the girl’s ponytail in the tree.
Jack was a happy man; he was out of the darned bed and back to work, off the desk, with the doctor’s permission. There were weight restrictions on the arm, but he could manage that-those strong young deputies could handle the heavy loads. Maude Rogers was a blessing to him and his department, the way she had taken care of his business was first class, just like her. He was hoping they could wrap up this murder business so that fine lady could go home.
They took the back road to Jackson Park, one Maude knew nothing about in advance. The potholes were fierce in the mud and gravel road bordered by mesquite trees and briars, and Jack grimaced once and apologized lightly but didn’t dwell on it. The road was a way to get there without being seen by anyone watching the park entrance. Even though the officers knew the Houston couple wasn’t supposed to be there for another forty-five minutes, they might have connections in Rhodes County.
Just before leaving for the park, Maude had made a trip to the jail to see Leroy once again even though she didn’t look forward to the trip. The male inmates began cat-calls when she walked in the door, smooching up to her, calling her sexy grandma. Even one was making masturbation signs to her as she walked across the corridor toward him. They were the trusties, the men who did the cleaning and maintenance of the building for jail credits, a kind of ‘get out of jail free’ card. She eyed them all, shook her head at their nonsense and continued about her business with Leroy.
Leroy didn’t want to see or hear from Maude ever again. He had already been sucker punched twice and called a snitch enough times to last him forever. Maybe he made the wrong choice. Maybe he should have tried to bluff his way through as he had done most of his life. Now here she was again and the trouble would start all over.
She had decided to help Leroy, to keep him from getting beat up in county jail. Enough of that would happen when he finally began his prison sentence. Meanwhile, keeping him safe was her responsibility. She told the control room operator that an official visit had been approved for her and sat down to wait for Leroy to enter the room accompanied by a guard.
In the two hours since she had seen him, Leroy had been punched in the jaw and forehead, his right eye already showing the bruise. “What do you want?” he asked sullenly.
“I want the guns, the gun that you used to kill Jenny Marx and Spillar and the one you used on the sheriff. Keep in mind, I have most of what I need from you, and nothing about this place draws me to return.”
“It’s in the post office box. Same one I gave you before. You would have found it anyway. How did you know it was me that shot the lawdog?”
“You’re right, but better for you to give it up than we find it accidentally, and as far as the bullet in Jack Fuller, I didn’t know for sure it was yours until just now.”
“The next thing, my concern for your safety-that’s really why I’m am here-as well as to tell you that if you make any attempt to call any of your coconspirators, the deal is off. We will prosecute and ask for a death sentence.”
“The way I’m going to help you is to let you yell at me when I leave. I will walk out of here, right by that feral group that’s waiting over there, and you may yell at me that you aren’t saying anything, that you will take your chances with a jury. You may not cuss me, but you can make it sound real. Then when you’re done, I will look back at you and tell you that you had your chance. Now, do you have all that?”
Leroy nodded, uncertain what she wanted from him, but able to see some relief to part of his situation. She reminded him again about talking to anyone and he nodded, agreeing.
“I won’t.” he whispered.
The inmate played his part admirably, yelling at the top of his voice that she could stuff her offer, and Maude told him in the presence of the trustee’s gossip train that he had been given the only opportunity he was going to get and deserved whatever happened. She wished him well and left the building.
She was thinking about that conversation bouncing around in Jack’s county vehicle. He noticed how quiet she had been for the last few minutes, and asked if she was okay.
“Yeah,” she said. “Sometimes I get really sick of criminals.”
Jack laughed his one short bellow, his face never changing. Maude looked straight at him, wondering if he was having a seizure.
There was still some time left before the killers were to show up, time for the lawmen to get in position. If their plan was good, the killers wouldn’t suspect a trap and would come fully expecting to find a blackmailer ready with his demands. They would try to kill him, having no reason to hear him out. The minutes crept by until it was time for the couple to show up.
Jack’s private vehicle was parked where anyone could see it as they drove into the park, its blue tinged silver paint job hard to miss. He had already stated that the person who put any scratches on it would walk the plank. Maude translated that to mean the offender would be sorely chastised.
Whiz, a bullet flew overhead, followed by another from somewhere out in the grass flats away from the park.
“Get down, everyone. Joe,” Maude whispered, “Come with me, let’s circle around, come in behind them. Jack, you and Ernest got this?”
He motioned her off, acknowledging that he and Ernest could take care of themselves. He knelt low after finding a place of cover behind a park sign.
“Be careful.” Jack said to the departing figures.
Picking a trail around wet cow-pies and prickly pears was never Maude’s favorite thing to do, but getting shot wasn’t either. She had been there before. The polecat had got one up on them and sneaked into the park without being seen. She would have to see about that. A small bell of alarm was dinging; those people had no mercy and wouldn’t hesitate to shoot anyone who came into view.
Joe followed Maude for a few feet then took the lead moving away from her, keeping his eyes on the grass ahead. He spotted the black SUV off to the right, about a quarter mile from the park. The shooter must have seen Maude and fired, hoping the gunfire would discourage any action, having no idea who made the phone call or how many might be involved in the blackmail.
Joe didn’t believe there was more than one shooter, there had been no more bullets flying. He whistled to Maude, catching her attention. A figure sat in the vehicle, the tinted windows blocking any identifying features. What he saw was a shadowy figure darting below the window.
“I think it’s the woman,” he whispered. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Crawling as fast as he could through the tall dead grass, Joe came up behind the vehicle. The door handle was close, in reach of his fingers. He tried it quietly, hoping it was unlocked. The warning bell of the big door started sounding and the engine revved, surging forward, with Joe hanging onto the door handle. He was afraid to turn loose where she could run him down.
Quickly, Joe pulled himself up and grabbed the door above the window, holding on, the moving truck bouncing his legs and feet against objects on the ground. Ginger saw the man trying to get in her car and punched the accelerator, but in her panic she lost control of the steering wheel and ran the left side of the vehicle into a huge clump of prickly pear cactus. The big wheel rolled over the obstruction, rising in the air as the spines of the cactus penetrated the thin rub
ber tires.
Joe was hanging on, his shoes covered in cow pie and cactus spines. When the driver’s side rose in the air, the passenger side tilted downward and Joe manipulated his legs inside, pulling his weapon as he gained control.
“Stop the vehicle!” he yelled above the sound of the engine. “Get your foot off the gas.”
“It ain’t going nowhere.” Ginger said. “The tire is flat. I knew I should have bought new ones when I had the money.”
“Put your hands up,” Joe said. “Up higher, now hold onto that strap above the window and don’t move.”
“Are you a cop?” Ginger asked, confused.
“That’s right. Joe Allen, Homicide. You’re under arrest,” he said, removing the key from the ignition. He leaned to the side and put his cuffs on the woman’s hands, attaching them through the grab strap.
“Jeez. We thought you was a blackmailer.” She said, adding, “My God you stink and you’re getting cow poop all over my truck.”
When Joe broke away to capture the person in the vehicle, Maude was left to find the shooter. She didn’t mind the detail, she was patient and he probably wasn’t. She watched the tall grass, looking for movement.
He tried to back away to get back to Ginger. Harry had seen Joe headed for the truck and hoped to get to him first but the grass off to the right where the man had come from was moving, hiding someone.
Harry repositioned himself, prepared to jump and start running toward the truck, hoping to waylay the man and then run the other figure down with the big SUV. Just as Harry rose to run, he saw a tall skinny woman out of the corner of his eye, both her hands leveling a gun, her body in a cop-stance that experience had taught him to recognize.
“Put the gun down,” Maude yelled across the distance. “I will blow you all the way back to Houston. Put it down, Harry.”
The use of his name did it. He couldn’t go to prison; they’d hook him up, he had done too much to get by. Better this way. His movement was calculated, slow, a turning and lifting, index finger steady, finding the trigger on the powerful .45 caliber gun.
“I don’t think so,” Harry said, the last word leaving his lips as the top of his head exploded.
The vehicle was still, the windows dark, a picture of a small red snake stuck to the back window. Maude had faith in Joe’s ability to take care of himself. She waited for a minute till the door opened on the passenger side and he stepped out, moving her way.
“Are you all right, Partner?” he asked.
She sighed. “I tried to stop him, to get him to give it up, but he wouldn’t. I guess he chose the best way for him to die, but I wish he hadn’t.”
“The woman is in the vehicle. As I was cuffing her, I noticed Ernest coming up close behind you. If you hadn’t got Harry, Ernest would have.”
“That’s comforting to know. Ernest is a good man to have on your team.”
The woman, Ginger, was crying, leaning her head against the window. Joe hated to hear any woman cry, even one that tried to run him over with a truck.
“We’ll get you to jail here in a little while. Maybe you can get in touch with a lawyer.”
“Lot of good that will do. I got no money.”
“The court will appoint a lawyer for you. In the meantime, let me advise you of your rights.”
“I know ‘em. You don’t have to tell me, handsome. What’s a good-looking guy like you doing in a cop’s job? You ought to be an escort, pulling in the big bucks.”
Joe glanced at Maude to see if she had overheard the exchange, hoping against hope, that she hadn’t, but knowing instinctively he would hear about it later. Some things were so good you savored them for a while.
Jack arrived in his vehicle, pleased to see that none of the officers were hurt. He approached Ginger and stared at her for a minute.
“How did you get mixed up with these guys?” he asked her.
“I needed money,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “They offered.”
The emergency vehicle arrived and carried the body of Harry Charles to the morgue and a tow-truck began attaching a winch to the black SUV. The lab crew came and looked the scene over, took some notes, and nodded as they left the area; just another day in the life of a crime scene technician.
Chapter 23
The trip back to the motel was quiet, with Maude thinking about the killers and the woman. Ginger surprised her with her no feeling of guilt or empathy for the two victims. She was inured to the violence. It wasn’t her first time to be part of a killing spree. Jack had assured Maude that he would get the story out of her; he and his deputies would take over. She reminded him that he should take it easy.
The shooting had to be analyzed by Madison Internal Affairs since Maude’s license was carried by the police department. It was time to go home anyway, at least for a while, until they were needed to testify for the prosecution.
The next morning, after a speedy inquest in the death of Harry Charles, Maude handed over case notes to Sheriff Jack, keeping a copy for herself. She called the Child Protective Services office to ask about the Spillar boy and was told that his grandmother took him home with her. The case worker said that home with the grandmother was not the best place for the boy, but it was the best she could do at the time. At least it was better than foster care with strangers.
Maude checked out of the motel and said goodbye to Jesus Jones. He seemed very sad to see her go. She thanked him for his help and he seemed gratified that she took the time to speak to him.
The next thing was to call Lieutenant James Patterson back home and tell him they were on their way back. He told her to come in the next day around noon. That would be soon enough. She was surprised, and thanked him. He told her that it was a formality, to turn her gun in to IAD, because she had been working for another agency, but they would get a copy of the Rhodes County inquest and it shouldn’t take long to clear her. Maude was so tired that she really didn’t care. She also felt depressed because the job hadn’t been finished. The Boss was still at large and would find others willing to do his bidding.
It was business as usual back at home. Maude’s renter, an older man named David Gertz who had lost his wife a few years back was a dependable man on a fixed income. Maude allowed him to pay part of the monthly rent with work on the property and her house. During her time away from home, he had painted the porch and cleaned the deck with a pressure washer. The fresh look inspired her to do some cleaning of her own, an activity that took her mind off the murders at Edwards Bay.
The buzz at the Cop Shop was over a narcotics bust that had gone down in the elite part of Madison. A friend of the mayor had been busted for importing cocaine from a source that originated in South America, and a dealer in the Harper district, the seamier part of town had snitched on the guy. It wasn’t that the bust was really large, it was the way it was done that had everyone interested. Right now the DEA was looking for the importers, the ones who cut the deal with the growers and packers.
A cruise ship based in Florida had a dozen employees connected to the drug trade and regularly bypassed ship security to get the cocaine on and off whatever cruise ship they were assigned to work. They said it was an on-going business and they usually delivered to a port in Houston. The dust on the street from that buy was worth maybe five hundred thousand, not enough to cause the narcotics squad much grief, but an acquaintance of the mayor incriminated her in the deal, saying she put up half the money for the shipment and the mayor provided the rest. It wasn’t looking good for city officials who had connections with either of the people named in the bust.
Maude was grateful she didn’t work Narcotics. Homicide investigations were much more straight forward and easier to manage than the narc cases that came in to the Cop Shop. She was sorry for the mayor, a newly elected young Yale graduate who thought she could learn politics at the ground level.
For a medium sized city, Madison had few notorious crimes. Once in a while something would come up to put them on the map. The
Heartless Killer was probably the most famous of cases, a period in Maude’s life she was determined to keep on the shelf.
Within two days, she had her papers cleared and made an appointment with the police psychiatrist, a necessity before going back to work in Homicide. The session was brief, the doctor taking Maude back through the incident to help her contend with the guilt that might remain after the shooting. She regretted that the man had chosen the path that he took, but it was self-defense from her position and the what-ifs didn’t linger in her mind. Harry Charles had chosen his path and forced it on Maude. If she felt anything, it was anger at the man for his decision.
The weekend was near and no news from Sheriff Jack had reached her. Maude wanted to call, but held back, letting the man do his job. It was Jack’s call, whatever happened. The murderers had been found and were in custody or dead. Her job was done because Jack was physically well enough to run his own business.
Sitting on her freshly painted and cleaned porch during the evenings made Maude remember her mother and all the years she had lived in the same house. She missed Grace, missed seeing her in the yard, working in the bed of canna bulbs, getting ready for the new blooming. Being alone was lonely sometimes, especially at holidays. Christmas was coming, and Lilly Ann informed Joe that she would be there for a week, visiting her aunt. Maude knew it was Joe that had prompted the visit by her niece. The young woman felt close to Joe after the scare she had. He had been supportive during her fears and gave her his strength. Maude nodded to herself, approving of the two. Lilly Ann would find no finer man than Joe Allen.
She called Bill on impulse Friday morning from home, and asked him to come down for the weekend. He seemed happy at the thought and said he would be there Saturday morning if she could pick him up from the airport. The rest of the day was easy, a few calls came into the Cop Shop, but most were looking for information.
That night Maude went by the drug store and picked up the box color she used on her hair. The blonde highlights helped erase some of the tiredness from her face, and a long hot soak and facial pack helped her mood as much as her appearance.
Murder on Edwards Bay (The Maude Rogers Crime Novels Book 2) Page 22