“You can’t do that in here.”
“Why do you have a gun? You a cop or something?”
His holstered primary was on the desk in front of her, and this crazy girl sitting next to it made him nervous. “You’re gonna have to leave.” Raylan put the glass of tequila on the coffee table and moved toward her.
“Not till I finish my drink.” She smoked and reached for the Glock, slid it out of the holster, racked a round, and pointed it at him, cigarette drooping from her mouth.
Raylan froze, feeling like an amateur for leaving the gun out. Not that he could’ve predicted this was gonna happen.
“What’s the matter, I make you nervous?”
“I’d feel better you put it down.”
She slid the gun in the holster. “You got to chill, man.” She dug a hand in her purse and came out with a small silenced semiautomatic. “I don’t need yours, I have my own.”
A long ash hanging from the end of the cigarette dropped in her lap. She looked down, swatted it from her clothes, and Raylan moved toward her, went for the gun, trying to take it as she squeezed the trigger blowing a lamp off the desk, shooting out the TV, putting a round in the ceiling before he was able to twist it out of her hand. She went for his eyes and he hit her, dropping her to the floor, woozy as he cuffed her hands behind her back. He dragged her to the bed, cuffed her ankle to the frame and called Big Country.
•••
Halfway through her quesadilla, Nora heard three quick knocks on the door. She assumed it was Raylan, but he didn’t knock that way. She looked through the peephole at a clean-cut teenage boy maybe fifteen, little guy about her height, holding a box of candy bars. Nora pulled the sides of the robe together, retied the sash, and opened the door.
“Buenas noches,” he said in friendly voice tinged with Spanish. “I am sorry to interrupt your evening,” the boy said. “I am selling candy bars to make money for our church.”
Nora thought it was strange to be selling candy bars at eight o’clock at night in a hotel but went along with it, decided to help his cause. “Six chocolate bars for three dollars,” the kid said.
“Wait here, I’ll get my purse.”
•••
Nora was sitting on the end of the bed, looking fragile and afraid when Raylan entered the room. There was a boy standing next to her, the barrel of his silenced semiautomatic pressed against the side of her head, his finger pressing on the trigger. With his dark hair and dyed highlights, he reminded Raylan of a singer in a boy band. What had the world come to, there were no more men to hire? Rindo was now using women and children to do his killing.
A siren wailed in the distance. “You hear that? The police are coming for you. Put the gun down.”
The boy didn’t say anything but he was nervous. Raylan hoped to God he was, a high-caliber pistol pointed at him. The boy moved behind Nora and now there wasn’t enough of him showing to get a target. Raylan lowered his weapon. He didn’t want to spook the kid, have him pull the trigger by mistake.
Now the woop woop of the siren sounded like it was right outside. The boy turned and looked at the blind-covered window behind him and Nora went down on the bed. With a split-second opening, Raylan shot him center chest, the impact sending the boy onto the floor. Raylan rolled him on his back, touched his wrist, and felt for a pulse.
He was still alive but barely.
Nora was standing next to the bed, hugging her arms, looked like she was about to start crying. Raylan put his arms around her and felt her body tremble.
She sat on the bed. “He’s a torpedo, young assassin who kills without conscience, no sense of right or wrong.”
“There’s another one in my bathroom, a girl. Get dressed while I check on her.”
•••
Big Country said, “I can tell you, based on what you say happened, your life was in danger and so was Agent Sanchez’s. You acted in self-defense. Under the circumstances, you had no other choice. Regardless, you’re gonna have to surrender your weapon, suffer a little bit of bureaucratic indignity.”
“Believe me I know the drill,” Raylan said. “I don’t get it back till I’ve been cleared by the Office of Internal Investigations.” Raylan drew his holstered Glock and handed it to him.
“I’ll get you a spare.” Big Country paused. “How many times has this happened?”
“You don’t want to know,” Raylan said, thinking about the last time, giving his primary to a field supervisor after he shot Diaz. That gun had yet to be returned and now he needed another one. “What about the woman and the kid?”
“Her name is Karen Flores, but goes by La Bonita.”
“The hell’s that mean?”
“The pretty. I wonder how she got that,” Big Country said. “This knockout young babe starts hitting on you—you didn’t think something was up?”
“What do you mean? I get hit on all the time.”
“Sure you do. Anyway, the Mexican police know her, say she does heavy work for the Taco Mafia. Boy’s name is Jesus Cornejo.”
“An assassin named Jesus, now I think I’ve heard it all.”
“He’s sixteen, lives in Mexicali,” Big Country said. “If he makes it, his new home’s gonna be Juvenile Hall till he goes to trial.”
“He makes it, he’s gonna be the princess of county lockup. They’re gonna be standing in line for him,” Raylan said. “How well do you know the federal judge?”
“Pretty well. He’s taken me surfing a couple times. We go up the coast to San Diego—Imperial Beach, Sunset Cliffs. The judge has a house there he goes to on weekends, runs the court here during the week.”
“You any good?”
“I spent the first couple times duck-diving and being rag-dolled. Now I can goofy foot and cross step.” Big Country grinned.
Raylan picked up the glass of tequila the girl had poured for him earlier and took a drink. “When you talk to His Honor, show him their matching guns with suppressors. Convince him not to set bail or we’ll never see Jesus or La Bonita again.”
“I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem. Now let me switch gears on you, okay?” Big Country said. “You got something going with the FBI agent?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Cause of the way you look at her and she looks at you.”
“I think you’re seeing things.”
“I figured you’d say something like that. Well, no French kissing on the first date, and you have to raise the kids Methodist.” Now he smiled. “How’s she doing?”
“Shaken up. That’ll happen someone puts a gun to your head.”
“She gonna be all right by tomorrow morning? In all the confusion I forgot to tell you. Rindo’s there in the house. Stepped out to have a smoke, they got a positive ID. What time you want to take him down?”
Thirty
It was almost midnight when the police left. Raylan went into the bedroom, Nora was stretched out on the bed, eyes wide open, but distant. “I have to go back to my room.”
“You can’t, it’s a crime scene. And the hotel’s booked. You’re gonna have to stay here with me. Your suitcase is in the living room. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“It’s your room. I’ll take the couch.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Raylan said. “How’re you doing? How do you feel?”
“Stressed, I can’t seem to shake it. I keep seeing that gun pressed against my head, and the look on the boy’s face after you shot him.”
“You know I didn’t have a choice—”
“I’m not blaming you. I’m grateful.” Nora swung her legs over the side of the bed.
“There’s something else. The El Centro deputy marshals ID’d Rindo. We’re gonna take him tomorrow at sunrise. Think you’re up to it?”
“I wouldn’t miss that for anything. I don’t care what happe
ned.” Nora got up. “I’m taking the couch and that’s final.”
“Whatever you want.” There was an extra pillow and blanket on the shelf in the bedroom closet. Raylan made a bed for her while Nora brushed her teeth. She came out in her robe and said good night.
Raylan was fading almost asleep when he heard the bedroom door open. Nora walked in, pulled the covers back on the other side of the bed, and got in. Raylan rolled over, facing her.
“Is this okay? I couldn’t sleep, the couch is so uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine. I’m just surprised.”
Nora scooted over closer to him, reached out and touched his cheek with her open hand. “I don’t know how to thank you. You saved my life. That’s what I’ve been thinking about.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“What if I want to?” She moved closer to him, and now her face was coming toward his and she kissed him, and kept kissing him, their mouths finding the right angles, getting used to each other, tongues moving, exploring. And when they broke for air, Nora said, “Is this okay?”
“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“Did you think this was going to happen?”
Raylan shook his head.
“Did you want it to?”
“It crossed my mind.” The sheet had slipped down her side and Raylan could see Nora’s small perfect breasts and tight stomach.
“Can we talk about it later?” She pulled the covers back and sat on him. Raylan sliding his hands down her body, feeling her rib cage, feeling the smooth skin on her hips and thighs, cupping her soft breasts. Nora smiling, a look of pleasure he’d never seen before, leaned down and kissed him.
Raylan slid out of his briefs and entered her slowly, pushing through the friction, and then they were moving, Nora’s eyes closed, in the moment as they found their rhythm. Raylan kissing her, feeling her hips gliding under him. And then unexpectedly she leaned to her left, hands on his shoulders, and they flipped over in one easy motion as if they’d practiced it a hundred times. Raylan on top now, both of them smiling, her hands on his face. Raylan sighing as he let go and lay on top of her.
He rolled on his back. “My God,” Nora said. She put her hand on his chest, rubbing lightly with her fingertips.
“How do you feel now, you better?”
Nora smiled and brought her hand to his cheek. “I was attracted the first time I saw you. Though it probably didn’t seem like it.”
“That wasn’t the impression I got.”
“Why do you think I called your chief and told him I wanted to go with you to pick up Rindo?”
“You should’ve asked for Bobby Torres, it was his case.”
“I didn’t want to go with Bobby.” Nora, maybe feeling self-conscious, turned on her back and pulled the sheet up to her chin. “Now what happens? Is this going to affect us working together?”
Raylan was wondering the same thing. “If we let it. I’m not gonna worry. Big Country thought we had something going based on how we look at each other. He knew it and we didn’t. Right now we better get some sleep. We’ve got to be at the office in five hours.”
The last thing Raylan remembered was Nora’s warm body against his.
•••
He opened his eyes and there she was on her back, asleep. He lifted the bedsheet, looking at her naked body. Now Nora moved, opened her eyes, and said, “What’re you doing?”
“Making sure what I thought happened really did.”
“It did, and it was wonderful.” She glanced at the dark blind-covered window. “What time is it?”
“Five. You want the first shower?”
“No, go ahead, but let me brush my teeth.”
Nora pulled the covers back, got up and walked to the bathroom. The light was dim but Raylan could see well enough, staring at her trim waist and small round fanny and started getting excited again.
Thirty-One
They met in the courthouse parking lot as the sun was rising. Raylan briefed the team, laid out the op plan, knowing it would probably change when they breached the house. “There’s a high fence around the backyard. We go in the front door, Rindo’s going to go out the back, so be ready.” Raylan passed out wanted posters and reminded everyone whom they were dealing with. “I know you’ve all seen him, but take another look, and do not underestimate this crazy bastard. There’s a reason he’s top fifteen. Jose Rindo’s murdered six people we know about, and probably more. He’s escaped from custody three times, and he’s not gonna go easy.”
Standing at the trunk of his G-ride, Big Country pulled a worn Glock out of his gun box and handed it to Raylan. “Here’s your on-loan primary. Anything else interest you? Shotgun, long gun?
Nora, in a chipper mood, was in her heavy vest and FBI wind-breaker getting something out of her car. She’d been smiling at him since they woke up together. Raylan at one point saying, “You’ve got to stop doing that. Big Country and his boys are gonna wonder what the hell’s going on. Put on your game face till we get back to the hotel.”
“What’s the matter, don’t you feel anything?”
“Sure I do, but we’ve got a fugitive to take down.”
They drove to the house in two cars. Big Country, Raylan, and Nora in one, and the three El Centro deputy marshals in the other.
There were mature trees on the east side of the property blocking the hot rising sun. The house was well kept and blended in the neighborhood. It wasn’t the kind of place you’d associate with a high-level drug trafficker, and that, Raylan guessed, was the idea. Rindo could come and go without attracting attention.
It was quiet at 6:22 a.m. except for a couple dogs barking somewhere in the distance. Big Country parked on Fifth Street fifty yards from the house and got on the radio saying: “Operation Early Bird. We’re code five at Five Oh Six Smoketree Drive, negative ET. Apprehending a high-risk fugitive.”
And the dispatcher saying: “Ten four, copy, code five, negative ET.”
“All right,” Big Country said, turning in the seat, first looking at Raylan next to him and then Nora in back. “Let’s take him in or take him out.”
•••
Rindo’s eyes were open looking at the ceiling, mouth dry, head pounding from the blow and tequila. The girl was on her stomach on the other side of the king-size bed like she was trying to get as far away as possible. He couldn’t remember her name. He got up and walked naked into the bathroom, turned on the tap, filled the glass with water, and shook some Motrin out of the plastic container. He swallowed four, trying to stop the pain, get back in bed and sleep for a couple more hours.
He heard the fence rattle, looked out the back window, saw a cop in a tactical vest, shotgun in hand, coming toward the house.
Moving into the bedroom, Rindo slipped on a pair of Levi’s and a T-shirt, grabbed his nine, saw two lines on the mirror next to the bed, picked up the still-rolled hundred-dollar bill, geezed the mojo, and felt the rush. The girl hadn’t moved. She was either asleep or pretending to be.
He grabbed the backpack in the closet, strapped it on, ran to the front of the house, heard a loud crash and a voice saying, “US Marshals.” And then footsteps and a flurry of bodies moving through the front door.
•••
Big Country kicked the front door open with his size-fourteen Tony Lamas, and they went in with their guns. Big Country moving down the hall to the first bedroom, Raylan and Nora covering him. The big black dude, Melvin Gales, Jr., was flat on his back on the king-size bed, taking up most of it, eyes alert and holding on the shotgun Nora was pointing at him.
“Melvin,” Raylan said, “let me see your hands.”
The big man lifted his arms out from under the sheet, exposing a bandage on his bare upper chest and shoulder.
“Turn over on your stomach, put your hands behind your back.” Melvin
did, groaning, saying he’d been shot. Raylan slapping on cuffs that barely fit his thick wrists. “Do you have a weapon?”
“Not suppose to say?”
“It’s okay, you can tell me.”
“Under the pillow.”
Raylan found the .45 that was racked with one in the throat. He ejected the round and the magazine. “Where’s Rindo?”
The big dude shook his head. “I hurt, man. Come on, take these off. Y’all violating my human being rights.”
Big Country and Nora were pointing their guns at a teenage Latina in the rear bedroom when Raylan walked in. The girl, terrified, had the bedsheet gripped in her fists, pulled up to her chin.
They lowered their weapons. Nora, trying to calm her, said, “Esta bien. Estamos buscando a Jose Rindo. Esta en la casa?”
“No lo se.”
Nora said, “Has visto lo deje?”
“Hace pocos minutos.”
“Rindo was here a few minutes ago,” Nora said. “She doesn’t know where he went.”
Raylan walked in the kitchen, looking at the sink piled high with dirty dishes, empty vodka and tequila bottles, and drug paraphernalia on the counters and table. Through the window he could see J. R. Harris in the backyard, Cody Styles and Juice Box on the driveway, holding the perimeter.
Raylan stood at the locked door in the kitchen, trying to turn the handle.
Big Country said, “Let me try,” and kicked it with a boot heel a couple times, and the molding splintered. He opened the door, looked down the stairs and back at Raylan. “You see this?” He took a flashlight out of a vest pocket, turned it on, and started down, Raylan right behind him. It was a small empty room with cinderblock walls, but its purpose was clear when Big Country shined his flashlight in the tunnel. “I’m going after him.”
Raylan ran up the stairs, told Nora and the deputies that Rindo had escaped, and ordered them to check the outside perimeter of the property and call the PD. He and Nora went to the garage and looked in the Suburban. No sign of Rindo, but Raylan found a metal grate in the concrete floor. He pulled it off, looked in at stairs leading to the tunnel, walked down a couple steps, and called to Big Country. “Hey, you in there?”
Raylan Goes to Detroit Page 19