Sotello: Detective, ex-FBI, ex-Secret Service (DeLeo's Action Thriller Singles Book 1)

Home > Fiction > Sotello: Detective, ex-FBI, ex-Secret Service (DeLeo's Action Thriller Singles Book 1) > Page 20
Sotello: Detective, ex-FBI, ex-Secret Service (DeLeo's Action Thriller Singles Book 1) Page 20

by Bernard Lee DeLeo


  “I see what you mean. I never thought about someone tipping off the one they want caught. They must be afraid of whomever they’re protecting. It makes no sense for any other reason.” Craig looked around. “We’re making good time Dad. We’ll be setting a record getting to Truckee, if the traffic stays like this.”

  “I thought we would get something to eat in Truckee since we’re making good time,” Sotello agreed. “It will break up the trip a little. You and I have been on the road a lot more than I care for lately. I know you like to travel, but I get sick of it after a while. I like it a hell of a lot better with you along. It does seem as if we just left.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t stop Dad,” Craig said. “You never know when we could hit some traffic and end up late to meet your friend.”

  Sotello considered it for a moment, and then nodded. “You’re right Number One. If we can hold out, maybe we can take Rick out to a late lunch and get you reacquainted with him properly. He’d like that. He and I never really get together often, so that would be great.”

  Chapter 18

  The Set Up

  Sotello led the way towards the Reno Station house, but Craig saw him veer over to a stocky, black haired man in a three-piece dark blue suit. The man stood near a late model Ford Taurus across the parking lot. The man spotted Sotello as he locked his car door.

  “Jim,” the man exclaimed smiling. “How in hell are you? How long has it been, two years?”

  “Hi Rick,” Sotello greeted him. The two shook hands. Rick Santos stood about a head shorter than Sotello. Craig could tell Santos was genuinely happy to see him.

  “It’s been about two and a half years. How’s the family?”

  “My son, Rick Jr., started 10th grade this year, and Vicki’s in seventh already. Connie said to say hi.”

  “Rick,” Sotello began. “I want you to meet my son Craig. He and his sister work with me on quite a few of the cases now. I showed you some pictures of them when we went into the Caribou Wilderness a few years ago.”

  Rick Santos shook hands with Craig. “He looks just like you Jim, but better looking. I guess your Dad wants you to meet the Reno connection. We solve all of his problems out this way.”

  “Yes Sir, he told me,” Craig replied, smiling.

  “Why don’t you two walk over to the coffee shop with me, and tell me what I can do to make your stay in Reno a short and pleasant one,” Santos suggested. “Jim’s buying, of course.”

  “Of course,” Sotello agreed.

  __

  Santos sipped his coffee as Sotello finished laying out his plan for taking Simmons.

  “So, how does it sound to you Rick?” Sotello asked.

  “It seems like a bit of overkill for some two bit thug like Simmons, Jim,” Santos replied. “The captain will probably not like the Taser business.”

  “Listen Rick,” Sotello said earnestly. “Simmons made his third strike on this one. He can go away for life. Simmons won’t hesitate to use a gun, and you can bet he has one. We can leave the Taser part out when we talk to your captain, and I’ll take Simmons down. When you find him loaded for bear, your boss will be more receptive to the method used, especially if his men have nothing to do with it.”

  “Well,” Rick said thoughtfully. “That works for me, but you better let me do the talking Magnum. Jameson has only been a captain for four months.”

  “Uh oh,” Sotello sighed.

  “Jameson’s a good cop, but he’s a little uneasy in the saddle right now.”

  “I don’t want any trouble for you and Jason. Maybe you had better forget you saw us on this trip,” Sotello reasoned.

  “Hell Jim, Jas and I can back you on this if the captain gives you your marching orders,” Santos retorted. “I just wanted you to know we should try to stay low key on this.”

  “Believe me Rick,” Sotello continued. “Your captain would want Simmons out of your area as much as we do. We brought everything I have on Simmons with us. I don’t think Captain Jameson will like Lionel very much after my presentation.”

  Craig handed Santos a folder, which Santos took the next ten minutes perusing. He looked up, and he no longer had a smile on his face. “Jesus, you guys in California have a hard time keeping your criminals in jail.”

  “Tell me about it,” Sotello replied. “If you counted up all the crimes Lionel committed without getting caught, he would have been taking the long dirt nap already.”

  “Let me take this to Jameson,” Santos offered. “You two can wait until I come out. If he will see you, we will have no problem. Do you know where to locate Lionel if we get the okay to move on this?”

  “I believe so, but Craig and I will do the surveillance part. We won’t need much in the way of police time. Once we have Simmons located and staked out, we’ll call, and then wait for you to arrive. Do you and Jas want to handle the backup?” Sotello asked.

  “If Jameson will go along with it, we’d be glad to. If he doesn’t, Jas and I will back you up off duty, but you two will have to transport him. We won’t be able to go through the department.” Santos replied.

  “Fair enough, but let’s hope Jameson likes the plan.”

  “Okay then, let’s go see how he feels about this,” Santos said.

  __

  “He wants to use what?” Jameson exclaimed.

  Santos looked up at the glowering, heavy-set Jameson. “Captain, Jim spent time with the FBI and Secret Service. He would not take this precaution without reason. Jim showed me this Simmons’ file. He would be dangerous if we had to take him. If Sotello takes him down, with a minimum of police involvement, we cannot lose. If things go badly, Sotello will have to take the blame. If things go well, we will have some very positive, high profile news in getting a guy like Simmons off the street. We really have no way to look bad in this.”

  Jameson walked back behind his desk. He turned and put his hands on the back of his desk chair as he looked at Santos. “Okay Rick, bring Sotello in and I’ll talk to him.”

  Santos walked out of the office, and went to the break room where Sotello and his son waited. “I told him the whole thing Jim, and he wants to meet you guys before making a decision. I told him this would be a win-win situation for the department, because you would have to take the fallout if things go badly.”

  “Fair enough,” Sotello replied, standing. “Can Craig come?”

  “Sure, you know better than to say anything unless spoken to, right Craig?” Santos smiled to take the edge off of his words.

  “Of course Sir,” Craig replied laughing. “I will speak only when spoken to.”

  “I sense a wise ass here Jim. The acorn didn’t fall far from the tree I think.” Santos said wryly.

  “I don’t know about the acorn and the tree part,” Sotello replied, “but the wise ass part you have hit right on the nose. Lead the way.”

  Santos knocked on Jameson’s outer office door, and then walked in with Sotello and Craig close behind. Sotello walked in far enough to let Craig come in to stand next to him as the door swung shut behind them. Sotello noted the lines imbedded around the eyes and mouth of the Captain’s ebony face. Although Jameson’s black hair and mustache showed no gray sign of age, Sotello figured the lines indicated an age of early to mid-forties. Sotello could tell through the suit lines Jameson carried about twenty pounds more than he probably liked.

  “Captain, this is Jim Sotello and his son Craig, who works with him,” Santos introduced them.

  Sotello came forward and held out his hand, which Jameson shook with just the slightest hesitation. Craig had extended his hand just after he noticed Jameson’s reluctant handshake with Sotello, and then met the man’s puzzled look as he released Sotello’s hand and clasped his. Craig noticed Jameson’s hand engulfed his much like his Father’s did. “Nice meeting you Captain,” Sotello said. “I…”

  “This is your son?” Jameson interrupted.

  “Yes Sir, Craig’s my son.” Sotello answered cautiously.

 
“Adopted?” Jameson left the questioning word hanging in the air, as if already answered.

  Craig saw the shadow cross over his Father’s face, and the familiar tightening around the mouth, he and Ellen dreaded seeing. “I am not adopted Sir,” he answered amicably before Sotello could speak. “Sometimes he just pretends I am.”

  Jameson broke into a braying laugh, which turned out to be infectious, as Santos and Sotello joined in it. Sotello relaxed and gripped Craig by the shoulder, as he looked at Jameson. “Craig’s my son by blood Captain.”

  Jameson nodded, and motioned for all of them to sit down. The three men sat down in the leather-padded seats in front of Jameson’s desk. Sotello handed him the file on Lionel Simmons and then sat back. “I think if you scan over Simmons’ file Captain, you will see what a potential danger he represents.”

  Jameson paged through the sheets in the file carefully, scanning the information, describing the violent life of the man in question. He shook his head in wonder as he traced through the detailed history. Jameson looked up with a grin on his face. “I hate California, and this file reinforces my feelings. We are a long way from perfect over here in Nevada, but thank God we don’t have any judges with a belief system like the ones who have continually turned loose a cheap thug like this. I understand Simmons comes under the third strike law this time around?”

  “Yes, and he knows it too,” Sotello answered.

  “And this idiot of a judge still allowed bail, with a flight risk like Simmons?” Jameson asked in disbelief. “If he were back in California, waiting to go off like a time bomb, I’d think you folks out there were going to get exactly what you deserved. Since he’s in my town, I will allow this thing to proceed as Rick outlined it to me. Rick tells me you have worked with him and Jason before. Will two officers, when the time comes, be sufficient to take him?”

  “Yes Sir, they will be,” Sotello answered. “If we get a little luck, this whole thing will be over before nightfall.”

  “And you don’t want credit for taking Simmons? I thought you bounty hunters lived for the publicity,” Jameson remarked.

  “I am not a bounty hunter,” Sotello informed him. “I take these skip traces from bondsmen who know I only go through legal channels to apprehend these people. If your department can gain anything positive from this, that will be all the better. As long as Simmons’ extradition to California proceeds, I will deem it a great favor if your department handles it for me, and any resulting publicity.”

  Jameson stood up, nodding his assent. He shook hands with Sotello and Craig once again. “Good luck then. I will leave the final parts of your plan with you and Rick to work out.” He looked over at Craig. “You be careful young man.”

  “I will Sir, nice meeting you,” Craig replied smiling.

  As Jameson’s office door closed behind them, Sotello turned to Craig. “What happened to the not speaking until spoken to Number One?”

  “Good thing you did Craig,” Santos chuckled. “I saw the look on your old man’s face too. That was some fast thinking kid.”

  “What look?” Sotello asked puzzled.

  Craig and Rick both started laughing, as they walked towards the break room again.

  “You looked like a volcano right before the entire top of the mountain blows off,” Craig replied.

  “I had myself completely in control,” Sotello said innocently. “I was just going to ask that fathead if he knew who his Father and Mother were.” Sotello had to stop as his son and his friend convulsed in laughter. The people in the break room looked up curiously.

  Santos smacked Sotello good-naturedly on the back, trying to regain control. “Oh God,” Rick stuttered. “I have to tell Jas about that one. Thank God you did speak up when you did Craig.”

  “We better take off and get this show on the road. Craig and I will get to work locating our buddy Lionel. Are you sure you and Jas want to be the ones doing the backup?”

  “We wouldn’t miss it buddy,” Rick replied. He handed Sotello a business card. “Here’s my cell phone number. If I’m out of range, it will go on voice mail and beep me. Good luck with the hunt.”

  “Thanks Rick, I will call you as soon as we have a lock on him,” Sotello replied.

  __

  Outside Simmons’ girlfriend’s house on Mill Street, Sotello and Craig sat quietly waiting for Simmons to return. A woman, dressed in a white nurse’s uniform, had parked a late-model, blue Chevrolet Corsica in the driveway at about 5:30 pm. Although a little heavy set for what Sotello figured to be her five and a half foot frame, her light brown complexion contrasted attractively with her white uniform. Simmons arrived a half an hour later in a battered Honda Civic. Dressed all in black leather, Simmons wore a red bandanna over his corn-rowed hair, and sported a close trimmed goatee.

  “He looks big, Dad,” Craig commented.

  “He’s only a couple of inches shorter than I am, and outweighs me by about twenty pounds,” Sotello replied. “I cannot fathom what this Winton woman sees in Lionel. She must have some idea of how dangerous he is.”

  “Yea, she’s a professional,” Craig commented. “I wouldn’t imagine her employer would like knowing she hangs out with convicted felons.”

  “Some of it may be fear,” Sotello continued. “Our Lionel uses fear to get what he wants, and it works well for him, because he means every word of every threat.

  Craig looked around, surveying the houses and street around Winton’s home. “There are not too many people out Dad. Do you want to do this right away?”

  “I’m calling Rick right now,” Sotello said, retrieving his cell phone from the bag on the floor at Craig’s feet. It also contained his Taser gun. He glanced at Santos’ business card, and then dialed.

  “Santos here.”

  “Rick,” Sotello said. “We’re at the Winton woman’s house on Mill Street, just before you get to Route 395, on the left hand side, coming from downtown. I’ll be standing next to my Dodge when you pull up. We are across the street and two houses down, facing away from downtown. You and Jas drive past us, and then do a u-turn up the street. Park your car across from us, on the other side of the street. I will get the ball rolling as soon as you two get stopped.”

  “Okay, but you be careful. We’ll be in an unmarked, brown Mercury Sable. Jameson okayed this with Ward Three, so we have a go,” Santos told him.

  “Thanks Rick, I’ll be watching for you,” Sotello confirmed. He hung up and handed Craig the phone. Sotello reached into his bag again, bringing out the Taser gun. He checked it over carefully, and then secured it under his coat. Sotello waited for five minutes and then stepped out of the car. A few minutes later, Santos drove by with Carvello next to him. Sotello nodded as they went past, and then ducked back into the car.

  “Watch me until I get to the side of the house before you call Craig.”

  “Okay Dad. I’ll roll the tape as soon as he exits the house.”

  Sotello left the car. He walked down the street about fifty yards before crossing over, and returning to the Winton house. Sotello slipped quickly up beside the house, as he looked continually around him. He uncovered the Taser gun and waited. Ten minutes later Simmons slammed out of the house, and hurried towards his Honda. Sotello stepped right out beside him and called his name.

  Simmons spun towards Sotello, his hand reaching under the leather jacket he wore. Sotello shot him with the Taser gun from point blank range. Simmons fell, convulsing to the sidewalk, as Santos and Carvello ran up next to Simmons’ twitching body. They flipped him over and plastic tied his hands behind his back, and then did the same with his ankles. Santos turned Simmons over again, while Carvello took out a digital camera. Sotello retrieved the Air Taser probes, and held open Simmons’ jacket, where Simmons had concealed a 9mm Beretta.

  Carvello took pictures of Simmons’ armament, and then bagged the weapon with gloved hands, along with everything they could find on his person. Santos had left to get the Sable, when Angela Winton came out of her hou
se, arms folded across her chest. She was still dressed in her nursing uniform. Sotello walked up to her with his I.D. visible. Santos and Carvello were in uniform, so she had not made any sign of complaint.

  “Ms. Winton, I am a private detective. My name is James Sotello. Mr. Simmons jumped bail in Oakland, California this past week. I am, with the help of the Reno police, going to extradite him back to Oakland.”

  “What’s chances he won’t ever come back?” she asked him.

  “Very good, ma’am,” Sotello reassured her. “If convicted, this will be his third strike in California. He can get a life sentence.”

  “Thank God,” the woman whispered. “I told him not to come here, but he said he’d kill me if I told anyone. He will think I set him up.”

  “I will tell him the truth when he comes to.” Sotello handed her his card. “Call me if you have any questions. I am going to do my very best to make sure he never gets out of prison again.”

  “I hope it’s enough Mr. Sotello,” she replied and went back into the house.

  Craig had already helped Santos and Carvello deposit Simmons in the back of their unmarked car. Sotello walked over as Carvello closed the door.

  “Hi Jas,” Sotello said, shaking Carvello’s outstretched hand. “Thanks for coming out.”

  “That was sweet Jim,” Carvello replied. “Simmons never knew what hit him.”

  “He was packing just like you thought,” Santos added. “Jameson will love the way it turned out. You two will be here overnight in case we need to add something from the horse’s mouth, right?”

  “We’ll also make you a copy of the tape I had Craig run of the whole thing, you can give to the news if you want,” Sotello replied.

 

‹ Prev