by Mimi Barbour
Fuck me. He’d been talking to Tadeo Kealoha, his mother’s brother. His friggin’ uncle. Of that he had no doubt. The man had recognized him. According to Les, the shmuck worked for Kroller and had been his right-hand man for years.
He had to contact his superior, Jack Harrison. Tell him that the guy they’d been after for so long was not only in the hospital but that he was pretty sure he knew who’d shot Kroller.
First, he needed to confront his uncle.
Chapter Fifty-one
He waited for Ryan to come back to the work station and then started in on him. “You have a patient, name of Kroller, who was admitted earlier tonight.”
“Okay.”
“He was shot. I need his room number.”
“Are you asking in your official capacity?”
Sloan realized that Ryan hadn’t heard about him stepping down to take over the garage and so he nodded. “Of course. I just ran into one of his sidekicks in the restaurant and then I saw the news. He’s here. I need to check on him.”
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told the city cops. He’s not able to answer any questions, bro. The guy’s mortally wounded. We’re not sure he’ll last the night.”
“Who brought him in?”
“An ambulance was called to the scene right after the incident. Kroller’d just stepped out of the restaurant, him and his bodyguards. One is dead, another wounded and the other was waiting in the car. He’s fine. There was a man walking his dog. Dog’s fine. The dog-walker’s deceased. Crazy-assed shit, man. Here in Honolulu? Are you kidding me? It’s supposed to be the safest playground in the world. We can’t be having these kinds of incidents before people decide it’s not so great after all. Then where will we be with no tourism?”
“Calm down, bro. As long as we have the ocean, warm weather and friendly service, people will always come. Look, have the police set up a guard by his room?”
“Shit, man, yeah he’s got police protection, plus his own guy’s there too. I’d say he’s been looked after better than he deserves if the rumors he’s a trafficker is true.”
“Judge not, my friend.” Sloan patted Ryan’s arm.
“Fuck that, bro. I just hope they keep their gang wars outta this hospital.” A bell buzzed on the desk computer and Ryan rushed off.
While he was gone, Sloan bent over the screen and found the information he’d requested. Kroller was on this floor. He headed in the same direction that Ryan had disappeared to moments earlier. Very few staff were visible in the equipment-filled corridor, nor were visitors. The quiet was eerie.
When Sloan approached the room, an officer was slouched in a chair outside in the hall. He was half asleep.
“Hey, Pat. How’re you?” Sloan was glad he recognized the younger cop as someone he’d worked with before.
Pat stretched his lean form, sat further up in the chair and grinned his welcome. “Hey, Agent Sloan. What’s up?”
“Just found out about Kroller. It’s all over the news. Were you there at the scene?”
“My partner and I were the first responders. It was a bloodbath, man. Two people killed. One an innocent bystander. And Kroller’s barely holding on from what I overheard the doc tell the nurse just now when he gave him instructions. This guy’s been on our radar for a long time.”
“I know. He’s a bad one.”
“We’ve attributed more drugs brought to the island by him than the rest of the sources put together.” The cop leaned forward to clasp his hands between his knees and he glanced up. “Mind you, there’s another prick who’s making moves to take over, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if this wasn’t a bid to do so. Kill the gang boss and move in on the territory.”
“No doubt. Have you heard the names Joey or Roger – no last names – being connected to the red Camaro that CNN reported was seen at the shooting?”
“No, sir.”
Suddenly, the door burst open and Tadeo rushed out, his face contorted with grief. He didn’t even see Sloan. Or the cop. He was in too big of a hurry.
Ryan followed behind him into the corridor, his hand raised as if to protest but he dropped it as soon as Tadeo turned the corner.
Sloan knew something was up, and he was right when Ryan signalled that Kroller had died by shaking his head.
“Dan, do you have a squad car here?”
“Yeah, sure. Why?”
“No time for questions. Either give me your keys, or let’s go. We have to follow Tadeo. He’s second-in-command to Kroller, and his boss’s just died. I believe he’s after retaliation for the assassination.”
Not too stupid, Pat kept up with Sloan as they rushed the elevators, pounding the lit button frustratingly. Sloan had his cell phone in his hand and was passing on his information to the FBI’s SWAT team’s leader on shift at the bureau. “There’s going to be trouble, Henry. I’m at the hospital and John Kroller just died. His long-time body guard, Tadeo Kealoha, just shot outta here with a look of revenge plastered over his ugly face.”
“Shit. Kroller’s one of the worst degenerates out there, but at least he’s old-fashioned, a known entity, unlike this newer gang who’s trying to take over. They’re total dirt-bags, as rotten as they come.”
“I’m on Kealoha’s tail right now but not sure if we’ll catch up with him. We’re just leaving the hospital. Can you get some squad cars to intercept? If he gets to where he’s headed, there could be a whole lot more people getting killed.”
“I’ll contact dispatch and have them put out an APB for him. Do you know what he’s driving?”
“Not yet. I’ll get back to you but get those squad cars closest to the hospital to respond. Stop him for whatever reason they can, speeding, suspected bank robbery, who cares as long as he isn’t free to organize revenge for his boss’s death.”
“On it. We’ll hold him as long as we can.”
“Thanks, man. I’ll keep you posted.” Sloan and Pat rushed the door. He saw Pat’s squad car at once and blessed the fact that the cops had special parking privileges at the hospital. They both bounded into the vehicle and Pat started up and headed to the exit, where they arrived in time to see a black SUV speeding toward the gate. Sloan called it in, the make and model of the vehicle before buckling in.
“That must be him. Follow and don’t let him make us. We’ll just keep him in sight until the officers can make an arrest.”
No sooner were the words out of his mouth, than a HPD Ford Fusion pulled out from a side road and took up the chase, sirens blaring.
Rather than Tadeo pulling over, he sped up and took the next right at a dangerous angle.
And the chase was on.
Chapter Fifty-two
Pat turned up a horizontal street, expecting to cut off the SUV at the next intersection, and he would have too, if it hadn’t been for an asshole on his bike. Slowed down by the seconds needed to blockade the SUV, they had to pull in behind the HPD Fusion and soon realized that the cop in the car ahead wasn’t an experienced driver. He was erratic, foolishly taking chances. Sloan grabbed the latch-handle over the passenger seat as a precaution.
Thankfully, Pat’s driving skills were good and he hit the brakes at each stupid maneuver taken by the car in front to stop from slamming into it. “He’s getting away. Those idiots can’t keep up.”
“I’m not surprised. Tadeo’s been Kroller’s driver for years. I’m sure it’s not the first car chase he’s been involved in. Look, there’s a side street in the next block. See if you can cut off there and pick him up on the other side.” Sloan had his cell in his hand, waiting on his boss, AD Jack Harrison, to answer.
“Okay. But I think I know where he’s going. We got a call to a warehouse on the east side a while back, saying that they were storing guns and drugs there. We were too late. The place had been cleaned out, but they could have returned after the heat was off. Looks to me like he’s headed in that direction.”
“What’s the name of the street? I’ll call it in and have them send the SWAT
guys there.” Once Sloan had his boss on the line, he briefed him about what was going down and where they were headed, told him he’d called out Henry and his team and gave him the news of Kroller’s death.
“Sloan, I can’t say I’m sorry about that bastard being killed, figured he’d get his dues in exactly that way. But we can’t afford a bloodbath, so we need to stop this now.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll do our best.”
“Keep me posted. And keep your head down.”
“Right. Head down. Talk soon.”
By the time they pulled over behind another building, Sloan saw Tadeo’s SUV drive through a garage-like door that automatically opened for his car.
“This isn’t the same place I remember. It was two doors over. I guess they decided to move here after the dust settled from the raid.”
“Kroller owns a few of these buildings. Agent Howard and I have a file thick as your arm on this gang. On the books it looks like it’s being rented to a perfectly legit organization, but in fact, Kroller was renting to himself. It’s complicated.”
“No kidding. These assholes hire high-priced accountants and legal scum who know every law inside and out, so they can get away with breaking them without being charged.”
“You got that right.”
“Hold it. Here they come.” All of the various warehouse doors were sliding up revealing a line-up of cars, waiting to pull out. “Tadeo must have rounded up their men just in case.”
“Jesus. We can’t stop them on our own. Where’s the calvary?”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the compound was inundated with SWAT vehicles, blocking the gang trying to exit the huge warehouse and the loading area.
Both of them exited the car, taking cover behind the safer SWAT vehicles.
Thinking the game was up, Sloan never figured on the gunshots, or that the lawbreakers would take a stance. They were opening fire on federal agents, for crissakes. And they were outnumbered. “Who in their right mind would have given the order to shoot?”
Then he heard his uncle’s voice. “Take ‘em down, boys.”
Sloan crouched and ran from where he’d been protected to behind one of the team’s SUV’s. He called out before approaching. “Hey, man. It’s me, Booker. I need a firearm.”
The agent who knew him well reached to his ankle and handed over the smaller weapon and a fresh reload. “Here. Stay low. We figure there’s at least a dozen armed with rifles and they don’t seem to care if they shoot a cop.”
“Their old boss died. You know that, right?”
“And I’m supposed be sorry? Not me, man. The guy deserved everything he got and more.”
The fresh spurt of bullets stopped their conversation and Sloan took off, heading in the direction where he’d heard his uncle call out. He bypassed one of the police vehicles and ran around to the next, staying low and cussing every time another spurt of rifle fire pelted the area. Fucking modern automatic weapons were a menace.
He waited until the agents returned fire and then ran for the building, hiding along the side. A movement drew his attention and he ducked just in time to avoid the bullet that would have taken off the top of his head. He fired back in that direction, and heard a man scream first and then thrash around as if he’d hit the ground.
He peeked into the side window of the building and saw Tadeo. He’d gone back inside and was rushing to another door that headed out of the back.
Sloan quickly followed him, running hard, his breath coming in gasps.
Just as he rounded the far side of the place, he spied the dark shadow and called out. “FBI. Stop where you are and put your hands up.”
Tadeo turned. He saw Sloan and the gun in his hand wavered for a few seconds. “You don’t know who I am.”
“I don’t give a fuck who you are, either. You’re under arrest. Drop your weapon.”
“I’m Tadeo Kealoha, your uncle. I used to play with you when you were a baby. Your mama brought you to visit me before she left.”
Sloan held his gun steady in both hands, stepping closer, ready to shoot. He didn’t trust Tadeo one little bit. “Yeah. She left. And you killed my dad. So there’s nothing stopping me from shooting you, is there? In fact, I’m itching to pull the trigger, so maybe you should just do as I say and drop the gu—”
When Tadeo pulled the trigger, Sloan returned fire instinctively. He saw his uncle go down, and the flash of pain he’d expected never came. Quickly, he turned and saw the man sprawled to his left, one of Kroller’s men. The one his uncle had just shot to protect him.
Rushing forward, he skidded to the ground beside Tadeo and lifted him into his arms. “I’m sorry, Uncle. I thought you’d opened fire on me.”
His uncle was bleeding slightly from the mouth, but mostly from the gunshot wound in his chest. “We didn’t ki-kill Tommy. His car crashed. We just wanted him to pu-pull over, kid. He was so stub…”
Tadeo’s head lolled over, and a wash of pain slammed into Sloan. Not understanding if it was truly grief he experienced, he decided rather that it was regret. He should have known this man.
The gunfire had stopped and the night’s silence was welcoming. He could hear the voices of the FBI giving orders to the survivors. Seems like tonight, they’d stopped a gang war. A thump sounded and Sloan instinctively turned to fire, only to realize a coconut had hit the ground from an old tree close by.
Sloan continued to rock the man who’d saved his life. Ignoring the carnage nearby, men calling back and forth, a siren blaring in the distance and screams of the wounded, he paid no attention.
Finally, he looked at the face of the man in his arms. He couldn’t put him down. Instead he studied him and saw the family resemblance. Tears gathered while he fought with the knowledge that he’d done what he had to do.
His phone rang, breaking into the silence. It took him a few moments to retrieve it and take the call. “Yeah?”
Alia screamed. “Sloan. My God. Kean’s gone.”
“Friggin’, shittin’… friggin’…”
Chapter Fifty-three
Alia arrived back at the house and sat in her car for a short while, reliving those earlier precious moments with Sloan. He’d been everything a woman could wish for in a lover, thoughtful of her comfort and caring about her being satisfied before reaching his own climax.
She had no idea how she was going to explain their new relationship to Kean, who was probably more observant than most boys his age. She’d lied and told him Sloan was her brother. Actually, she’d said stepbrother but even still, that left a sour taste in her mouth when it came to explaining things to an eight-year-old.
Maybe she’d leave it up to Sloan. He had a way of getting through to her son that she’d never had. The enormous love she had for the boy didn’t change the difficulties she experienced every time she had to show her emotions. For her, talking to him was excruciating because she kept thinking she’d screw up. And he’d push her away. God! What a baby she was.
Suddenly, she had the overwhelming urge to go see him and tuck him under the covers he’d often kick off during sleep.
She went into the house, directly to his room and couldn’t believe her eyes when she found it empty. Heart pounding, she looked everywhere, under the bed, in all the other rooms. Screams rang inside her head, wanting to burst out but she maintained the control that she’d been trained for. Sobbing under her breath, she finally pulled Don into the search.
“He’s gone? What the fuck? I had the door open to the house so I could hear him call if he woke up. He knew I was in here. I went and told him so he wouldn’t be scared after you guys and Les left. Maybe the cat wandered off and he’s chasing her. I’ll go outside and look.”
While he checked the yards nearby, she combed the house again, calling Kean’s name, this time going through closets and every nook and cranny she’d missed earlier.
There was no sign of the boy.
The kitten.
She searched again for the tin
y animal, calling, “Kitty, Kitty, here Kitty,” all to no avail. The cat was missing too. Collapsing into a kitchen chair, she pushed her hands through her messy hair.
How the hell could anyone have come into the house and taken Kean without Don hearing them? When they’d first moved here, she’d wondered at Sloan’s lack of security but hadn’t worried overly because she’d argued with herself that there would normally be two agents in the house, both with firearms if necessary. And yet, Kean was gone.
Paul! The bastard had threatened, said he’d take Kean away from her, and she hadn’t fully believed he’d be able to pull it off.
Libby’s image popped into her mind. She fitted into the slot as the perfect suspect. The woman had been here earlier. She knew the layout of the house. All she’d had to do was wait until Sloan and Alia had gone to the hospital. In her mind, that would have left Les to get past. But she could bide her time waiting for him to doze off and if she came in through the back door, she’d be home free.
And to make things even easier, Sloan had told Don to relieve Les, so Les would have left after Don had arrived. Not having to deal with Les would have made taking Kean even easier. No doubt Don was concentrating on his surveillance in the sunroom, or snoozing, and the PI would have had an easy time breaking in.
Hell, with her boy being small for his age, and Libby being so strong, she could have simply carried him if he was asleep. Since Kean knew her voice, he probably wouldn’t make any fuss.
Deciding she had it all worked out, there was only one other person Alia needed to contact.
Sloan.
Chapter Fifty-four
Her cell phone rang again just a few moments after she’d called Sloan the first time. “Honey,” his calm voice eased her apprehension. “I’m with a SWAT team now. It’s a long story; I won’t get into it. We can be at the airport in the same time as it takes you to get there from the house.”
“But, Sloan, would he head for the airport? That would be the first place we’d be looking for him.”