With our weapons drawn and back up on the way, Tara and I covered each other as we sling-shot through the property until coming upon two men operating the gantry crane. Raymond Corondelet stood on the barge orchestrating the floodlights and the positioning of the container.
“What are they doing?” Tara asked.
“Midnight loading after shooting up his club? I’d say something spooked Ray.”
“Wait for our back up?”
“I suppose. I count four men. I don’t see Cozy anywhere.”
Car engines rumbled behind us. I peered over my shoulder. “Don’t look now, we have company and it’s not ours.”
Back where Tabitha parked, several sets of headlights entered the lot and shut off. A cacophony of men’s voices and laughter drew near from where we had just been. “Ray called for reinforcements.”
“We’re trapped. What now?”
I sighed. “Don’t move. Hope they don’t notice us.”
Tara used her hand to stifle a laugh.
A huge man carrying an assault rifle stumbled behind the pallets we were using for cover, dropping the cigarette out of his mouth in surprise. As he swung his weapon around, Tara and I both fired, hitting him in the chest.
“We just announced our arrival,” Tara told me wryly.
I grabbed the discarded assault rifle and aimed it at the sound of the voices. As soon as we saw the outline of men with weapons drawn on us, I sprayed a round of bullets, taking down the first wave of attackers. I counted three others that scattered into shadowed corners, possibly wounded. Then sirens far off in the distance began to grow louder.
“We need better cover,” I said. “Let’s get closer to the barge. Follow me.”
Chapter 40
The container hovered in mid air, floating as if by magic. Cozy could feel it moving sideways, swaying enough to give her motion sickness. She clutched at her revolted belly. Occasionally, slivers of floodlight found entry, showing a carpet of female bodies lying about. She had long since given up on talking sense into them, the ones that were awake anyway. She would take her own life before being forced into prostitution or becoming some disgusting man’s sex slave.
But then, abruptly, the crate halted. They weren’t on a forklift, so it had to be one of those cranes used to load the barges. Maybe something went wrong. Maybe the police had arrived and Ray was caught. Would anyone even know that this container was full of women? Without warning, a tug almost knocked her to the floor. They were moving again. No doubt being placed on a barge in route to a freighter that would take them to Europe.
She felt the descent like a slow elevator until the floor contacted something solid beneath them. Open those doors, she begged to her momma’s Spirits. Just give me one chance at escape.
At first, the silence drained all hope, but then gunfire erupted. Men yelled in a different language, some screamed in English, but with heavy accents. She sensed they were near the container, shooting away from it, protecting it. A metal ping rang inside the box and she could see a hole exposed by the floodlights. Whoever it was, they had shot back.
“Help!” She screamed, her fists banging the walls.
Clanking at the front of the box surprised her; it sounded as if they were trying to open that bastard of a padlock. Cozy sidestepped bodies the best she could until pushing against the opposite side of the noise. She heard sliding as the locking mechanisms shifted. And as if the Spirits had answered her prayers, the doors swung open. But it wasn’t the freedom she expected.
Ray stood on a three-foot ledge at the door’s opening. He grabbed her around the neck as if knowing she would be there, spinning her to face out over the barge deck. It took a moment to settle the sudden dizziness, like being on the edge of a cliff. The container had been placed on top another container, stacked askew like two Lego’s that were off by one row.
It didn’t matter why Ray had decided to pull her out. It was her one chance at a miracle. However, one step forward and they would both plummet a good ten feet. Ray pressed behind her, but she could see his weapon pointing at Detectives Lucas and Tara not too far below.
Ray growled, “Go ahead and shoot, Peyroux. We all know how well the last time turned out.”
Chapter 41
Tara and I stood three feet apart with our guns drawn on Ray. I whispered, “S.W.A.T.’s here, but they aren’t going to converge until they assess the situation and form a plan.”
“Let’s hope this standoff lasts a while.” Tara said.
“We never tested my breakthrough at the firing range.”
“That was simulated. This is reality. Your head will know the difference. But we can’t take the shot anyway,” Tara warned.
“I’m ready if we need to.” I felt the sweat running down my back. My gun was aimed, but this time the barrel remained steady in my grasp. Cozy’s face wore a mask of dried blood, all the way down her neck. I made the right choice then, and I will again.
Ray’s face scrunched in anger. “Wheelhouse, you want to do the honors so we can get this situation under control?”
I heard a click behind me and turned to see Tabitha Wheelhouse pointing a nine-millimeter at my back. Her expression was cold and calculating, her words came out like molasses. “Drop those weapons.”
Tara and I both raised our guns at the same time. “Crap. Didn’t see that coming.”
“You speak for both of us,” Tara mumbled.
“Most of our guys are dead, Ray. More police just showed up,” she yelled.
“One call and they will be told to leave the barge alone, but only if these two aren’t around to fuck it up. Kill them.”
Tabitha drew closer and yelled past us. “Ray-baby, I’ve never killed anyone before.”
In unison, we placed our guns at our feet and rose with our hands up. “You helped Cozy escape from the club just hours ago. I don’t get it.”
Tabitha’s entire body stood rigid. “Ray wanted to kill her. She’s worth more alive.”
Tara spoke. “You heard the sirens pull up. The parking lot is full of cops. Even if that barge gets away, they’re going to stop you on the river.”
Ray screamed, “What are you chatting about? Pull the fucking trigger.”
Tabitha kept talking like she wanted to stall. Her eyes were wide. “You have no idea who’s involved in this, do you? That barge won’t be stopped. And as far as witnesses? There won’t be any.” Her gun trembled slightly.
“Tabby, quit fucking talking and kill them.”
“You swore I’d never have to,” she barked at him.
He kicked a foot toward her in anger. “I lied. Do it.”
“Just try to get them from there, baby.”
That would be a tough task. Ray aimed his weapon at me first, shutting one eye as he lined up his shot. We had to make a dive at our weapons. But with two guns trained for a kill shot, one of us would take a bullet.
As Ray steadied his arm despite Cozy’s squirming, a dark figure moved behind him, jumping at his knees. It was another girl from inside and she managed to knock all three of them out of the container, onto the floor below.
“Ray!” Tabitha yelled.
While he was distracted, Tara and I lunged for our guns and turned to fire on Tabitha. Her only shot landed between us as if she couldn’t choose. Tabitha’s chest cavity saturated with blood as she stood in shock. She fired another shot in the air before falling backward. With Tabitha out of commission, we used the ramp to run onto the barge to find Cozy straddling Ray while he lay on his back. She had the barrel of his machine gun in his mouth. The other girl was face-down, not moving.
“Cozy – don’t.” Tara and I trained our guns on her.
“Why not, Lucas? This is where it all ends for me. I’m going to jail, right? The least I can do is take this scumbag out.”
“You’re giving him the easy way out. The real punishment will come from life in prison.”
She looked to be considering my statement when Ray reached for the barrel.
Cozy pulled the trigger, but all we heard was an impotent click. The weapon must have been damaged in the fall. Ray pushed her off, but couldn’t get to his feet before I was on top of him, pulling his hands behind his back for Tara to cuff.
She slapped on the cuffs with no regard for comfort. “Damn straight.” Tara wiped at her forehead.
We turned our attention back to Cozy and the other girl. Ray must have broken their fall. Cozy appraised Ray with disappointment while the other female just lay on her side moaning, but none the worse for wear.
“Tara.” I knelt beside the unknown female and straightened the hair from the girl’s face. “Who does this look like?”
“Son of a bitch.”
Cozy noticed the surprise on our faces and turned to see the girl who had just saved her life… Haley Robicheaux. Her mouth opened enough to let air escape, but she couldn’t inhale to get it back. A spark of recognition flared within Haley’s glazed eyes as the corners of her mouth turned up. Both of Cozy’s arms extended in awed shock to hug her sister as they sat side by side on the ground. Tears continued as she struggled to speak, but gave up on speech and simply bawling into the side of Haley’s neck.
I turned my back to call Heather, but didn’t let Tara see me wipe my eyes.
#
The red and blue lights flashed through the sparse streets, however the siren had been rendered mute. The squad cruised at the speed limit. The young cop driving stayed wide-eyed as the older one yawned. These officers assigned to bring Raymond Corondelet to Orleans Parish Prison took their time, reflecting the attitude of the city.
The younger cop spoke as he drove. “Why do you suppose Dobson’s replacement gave us Corondelet instead of putting him in the wagon or waiting for the Feds?”
“The Feds would take all the credit. And it’s best to keep this guy separated from his crew.”
“Just weird. Not having an escort or anything. I mean, this is a pretty big deal.”
“Enjoy it, rook. You’re gonna have a story to tell your pals.”
“You boys been on the force long?” Ray asked from the back seat. Through the grate, he studied the two morons hand-picked to transport him.
The cops ignored him, keeping their attention on the road as they drove down Jackson Avenue towards Claiborne, a portrait of youth and inexperience tending to serious business. At this hour, no one was on the road in this part of town. Ray glanced between the two, one of which was young and nervous, the other was older, weighty and soft having hit his career ceiling. Squawking came over the radio, but they ignored it.
Ray twisted his head around to look through the back windshield when he noticed the bright glare of headlights on the cop’s bumper. “I imagine you don’t make much money as a beat cop, right?”
“Just keep quiet, sir,” the older one said.
The driver popped his eyes into the rearview mirror. “What the fuck does this guy think he’s doing? Doesn’t he see the fucking lights?”
His partner responded, “Must be drunk. Maybe thinks it’s an ambulance. I knew this one guy so drunk he got in a squad car thinking it was his.”
Ray felt the car decelerate as the driver ignored his partner. The squad drifted to the parking lane and slowed to a near stop, expecting the drunk to pass.
“I should call this in,” the young cop suggested as he coasted.
“Let’s see what kind of douche bag we’re dealing with here.” The older one motioned.
Ray watched the car creep by to pass on the driver’s side when two girls, one in the front seat and one in the back, both pressed their bare breasts against the glass and then continued on while waving their hands in the rear windshield.
“Nice,” the young cop said with a laugh. When he turned to his older partner for confirmation, a bullet entered his frontal lobe and left out the back of his skull.
“So messy,” Ray said.
The older cop got out of the car and opened the back door. He reached in and took the cuffs off Corondelet and waited as he slid out of the squad car.
“Alright, the boss said you’d just get me in the shoulder or leg or something, okay?” He handed over his gun.
Ray raised the gun to the cop’s head and fired without explanation or apology.
#
The scene resembled chaos. So many law enforcement individuals scurrying around doing the job in which they were tasked. Tara and I spent the past five hours answering questions into the early morning hours, combing through documents and warehouse inventory and basically making sure no one would screw anything up. I counted seven squad cars, four ambulances and three fire trucks parked on the property with lights flashing like the world’s largest disco. Police and firemen dodged each other as cargo containers were opened and inspected while news helicopters buzzed overhead with spotlights at the request of the NOPD. There would be no cover up.
The twenty women found in the one container were taken to a nearby hospital before immigration determined who was American and who needed to be deported back to their country of origin. I made sure S.W.A.T. knew that Cozy and Haley Robicheaux were to be separated from the group due to special circumstances. After I saw them off in the ambulance, I called Heather again.
“It’s five in the morning, babe. Did I wake you?” I asked.
“Actually, after you called, Chance got an update and he said Corondelet had been arrested, so we decided to go home. Hope that’s okay.”
“You still have the detail?”
“Yes. That’s the only reason we left. My parents went to my aunt’s house.”
“Guess what? Cozy’s sister is alive and well. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you.”
“That’s great. I can’t wait.”
“I’ll be there in an hour or two if I can finish up with this madhouse.”
“I’m proud of you, honey. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
We had followed up with the Robicheaux sisters at the hospital to make sure the staff knew the situation, leaving Cozy handcuffed to a hospital bed next to Haley in the same room, both staying overnight for observation. We didn’t know what kind of jail time Cozy would receive – if any – as that would be up to the D.A. and her extenuating circumstances were sympathetic at worst.
Tara and I had promised to support them during what was sure to be a crazy few weeks upcoming. Just thinking about the press coverage and paperwork gave me a headache. I was curious to how Aponi would handle Haley not being dead. She didn’t want me to deliver any more news, so I would honor that request and send a trooper.
My cell phone read 6:13 a.m. as I closed in on home, thinking of the joy on Heather’s face. Who was I kidding? My wife will be happy for me, but it wouldn’t change her mind. She didn’t like my job and she would rather I quit, although she’d never say that to my face. As a detective, I know this to be true.
Just blocks from my house, my cell rang with Tara’s name. “Don’t you dare tell me Ray escaped.”
“Ray escaped.”
I waited for her to laugh. “Bullshit, Tara.”
“Seriously. The squad was found just off Claiborne Avenue. The two officers were executed.”
“How does something like that happen?”
“You said it yourself, these guys always have an escape plan. Any one of those Russians could have been lying in wait. Hell, for all we know, it was a cop on the payroll. Who the fuck knows.”
“I’m pulling up to my house now.”
“You don’t think he’d show up there?”
“Ray doesn’t think rationally when in a rage, remember? I think he wants to show up here.”
“I’m sending a unit to sit outside.”
“Good, because I don’t see the detail that’s supposed to be here.”
“Trouble?”
“I’ll call you right back if I see anything.”
I pulled up to the curb by the neighboring house, deciding not to park in the driveway just yet. A different light illuminated the l
iving room; not the lamp that was always on. Could the bulb have blown? I’m not buying it. I called Heather’s number waiting a few rings before she answered.
“Hi, Lukie,” she said with emphasis.
I knew right away. She never called me Lukie since it was my last girlfriend’s pet name for me.
“Hey, sorry I’m still out and calling so early, but I’m going to be home in about a half hour and I have a craving for scrambled eggs. Just thought to call to see if you want breakfast so I can tell you all about tonight.”
She knows I despise eggs.
She said, “You and your eggs. Why don’t you come home first and we’ll go out to Camillia Grill.”
“Excellent idea. See you soon. Love you.”
I hung up the cell with adrenaline about to flood out my ears. I slipped out of my car and ran to the back of the house where I stealthily climbed in the bedroom window, doing a handstand before rolling onto my back.
A man’s voice vibrated through the hallway, but I couldn’t make out his words. I peeked through a crack in the door, making out Heather and my daughter, who were tied back-to-back on two chairs in the dining room. They appeared scared, but not hurt. Ray paced, waving a gun. He wanted to kill them in front of me.
And I thought Cozy had a one-track mind for vengeance.
I retrieved my spare Baretta from the closet, opening the metal lock and pulling out a gun I hadn’t fired in five years. However, it had been cleaned and loaded and ready to go. Back at the door with limited vantage, I could still make out Alicia facing me at an angle and Ray behind her in full pace. He returned into my vision every so often, reminding me of that serial killer swaying back and forth with Cozy in his arms.
My chest leaned against the doorjamb with my right arm extending into the hall, pointing my Baretta at the spot where Ray returned into a target frame of about six inches left to right and two feet above Alicia’s head. Heather and my daughter sat motionless, faces wet with gags in their mouths. I needed to get down the hall and into that room without Ray noticing, which seemed impossible at this point.
Ray came back into my line of sight, seeming to know instinctually not to step in front of them where I had a clean shot. I focused with my body propped solid. Cozy’s face formed in my mind except blood wasn’t flowing from her throat. I imagined her smiling, saying ‘don’t be a baby.’
Where The Devil Won't Go: A Lucas Peyroux Novel Page 24