The End of Summer: Book One in The Detective Bill Ross Crime Series

by Irving Munro

  On arrival at the terminal building, Harry DeWalt shook hands with Sheriff Gordon and introduced his team while the other members of the joint operation stood in the background.

  As they moved through the hall of the private section of Stevens Field, to Tommy’s complete surprise, Harry DeWalt maneuvered himself to walk alongside Tommy.

  “Semper Fi, Marine,” said Harry.

  Caught by complete surprise, Tommy still managed a reply, “Semper Fi, sir!”

  Harry DeWalt strode on. Tommy’s impression of the FBI lead agent changed in an instant. DeWalt was a former Marine, probably an officer. “This might get interesting. Very interesting indeed,” thought Tommy.

  ~

  After the short drive from Stevens Field, the FBI team, the Archuleta team and the Travis County team met at the sheriff’s office in Pagosa Springs. Harry DeWalt stood in front of the white board and, off to the side, an aerial view of Luther Fisher’s home was projected on the wall from Agent Vern Bailey’s laptop.

  Harry began the briefing of the joint team task force.

  “As you can see, this is a two-story residence with a two car garage. The hillside drops of dramatically from the front to the rear and there is dense tree growth all around. Access to and egress from the building are only from the front and there are no other options available to the occupant to make an escape unless he tries to run into the woods. Given the excessive slope of the terrain, this would not be a smart choice on his behalf.”

  Harry continued on without interruption.

  “We need to split into three teams. I will lead the main team to the front door. Vern will lead the second team covering the garage to prevent an escape from there. Detective Raul Ortiz will lead the third team and take a secure position at the rear of the property protecting against any, albeit unlikely, attempt to exit from the rear.”

  “Questions?”

  Tommy initially hesitated and then stood up. “A couple of questions if I may, Agent DeWalt?”

  “Yes, Detective Ross, go ahead!”

  “Are you aware that Fisher owns another property?”

  It was like a fart in church. “What fucking property?” said Harry, staring at Vernon Bailey, as he had been the one responsible for gathering the intelligence to plan the assault.

  “He owns another property on the other side of the valley. It was purchased through his dead mother’s company and he obviously bought it for a reason. It could simply be for storage, as he parks an RV and a boat over there, or it could be that it’s his fallback position if his primary home becomes compromised. Sir!”

  “His home becomes compromised? We’re not dealing with Jason Bourne, Tommy. This is not some CIA rogue super agent that we’re here to take down. We’re here to arrest a jackass who is a fucking rapist!” snorted Harry, trying to save the FBI embarrassment for not having proper intelligence on the other property.

  “With all due respect, Agent DeWalt, this jackass is a prepper and my guess is that he has the ability to dig in and shoot it out if he chooses to. I also think that, just to be on the safe side, we should have a fourth team located over the valley at the other property. He may try to fall back there.”

  Harry relaxed and said, “Good idea, Detective Ross. Good not to underestimate his capabilities. Why don’t you take a couple of deputies and position yourselves at the other property.”

  “May I add an additional comment, sir?” added Tommy.

  “Yes, what is it?” said Harry, now getting seriously pissed off.

  “I would like to take Detective Ortiz with me to the other property as he and I have a good working relationship,” said Tommy, stretching the truth.

  “Might I also request that Detective Marie Mason make the approach to the front door with you and your main team? She has previously interviewed Luther Fisher and is therefore known to him. A direct approach announcing you’re the FBI might be enough to set him off and the situation might spiral out of control.”

  Harry nodded and said, “These are all good ideas, Detective Ross. Anyone with any further contribution, please speak up now!”

  “For the record, I agree with Tommy’s assessment of the situation,” injected Jack Johnson.

  Tommy had succeeded in getting the Archuleta and Travis County teams more actively involved in the operation but also had identified some flaws in the initial plan that had now been addressed.

  Harry DeWalt again took control, “OK, team, here is the revised plan integrating Detective Ross’s valuable input. The main team, led by me, will stay the same with Detective Mason making the “introductions.” Vern and his team will cover the garage in case he tries to flee with a vehicle from there. Deputy Jack Johnson will lead the team covering the rear of the house while Detective Ross and Detective Ortiz cover the second property on the other side of the valley, just in case Batman flies over there.”

  Everyone laughed at Harry’s attempt at humor.

  “We will assemble here at 0500 hours tomorrow and hit him before he’s had his Wheaties,” said Harry.

  The meeting ended and the teams went off to have dinner and an early night. As the senior member of the Texas team, Jack Johnson was invited by Sheriff Gordon to have dinner with him and Harry Dewalt. On the way out to the parking lot, Jack pulled Tommy aside.

  “Good job in there, Tommy. You were right to speak up. I think we now have a better plan to get this done without bloodshed!”

  Jack’s comments would haunt Tommy for the rest of his life.

  Chapter 45 -Let’s get this done

  2014 - The Cold Case Investigation

  The joint task force met in the sheriff’s office parking lot the following morning. Every agent was issued body armor as a standard precaution for this type of operation. It was to be a silent approach to the property. No sirens. Headlights were to be turned off when they made the turn into the driveway. Tommy Ross and Raul Ortiz drove off first. When they approached the cabin entrance, they saw the Dobermans.

  Tommy whispered to Raul, “We’ll need to set up back from the gate so the dogs don’t go into a frenzy. The sound might carry across the valley and that could alert Fisher something was up.”

  They stopped about a hundred yards from the gate and reversed into a dirt track just off the access road and called DeWalt.

  “In position at the cabin property,” reported Tommy.

  The main team entered the driveway to Luther Fisher’s home, lights out and sirens off. They parked their cruisers around the perimeter gate and began taking up their positions. Jack and two of the Archuleta sheriff deputies carefully inched their way around the side of the house and down the steep slope to the rear of the property crossing a gravel track that seemed out of place with the rest of the undergrowth around the building.

  As the deputies approached, a flashing red light and whine of the alarm in the control center woke Luther from a sound sleep. He was out of bed and seated at the control in less than two seconds. Sector two was showing a perimeter penetration, so Luther activated the infrared cameras. He switched the antipersonnel weaponry to neutral as he didn’t want to have pieces of red deer to clean up if Bambi had decided to come looking for food. Once the guns were stabilized, he looked to the monitors and saw the outline of a slowly approaching figure holding what looked like a handgun. They were here.

  He dressed quickly. Everything felt more than a little suspicious to him. If this was a simple follow up call to ask more questions about Jim McCord, why were they here so early and why were they creeping around the rear of his house? He activated the sector one infrared cameras that covered the front of the house. He could see the hazy outline of four police cruisers parked out front.

  “What the fuck is going on?” he yelled.

  Then he saw Marie Mason. She was with guys in suits and body armor with FBI in big white letters.

  “The fucking FBI! Why are those fuckers here?”

  His mind was now racing. Why would the FBI be involved? He hated the federal gove
rnment and here they were at his front doorstep.

  The doorbell rang and a familiar female voice sounded from the other side.

  “Mr. Fisher, this is Detective Marie Mason. We met when I visited with you here a couple of weeks ago. We have a few more questions that we need to have clarified.”

  “It’s a bit early, Detective Mason. Why don’t you come back later this morning?”

  Luther was speaking to them from the communications center transmitting to the speaker at the side of the front door. There was a brief pause and then the front door was blown off its hinges. Harry DeWalt and his team stormed the house. The agents swarmed the lower level of Luther’s home.

  “Kitchen clear!”

  “Living room clear!”

  “Bedrooms clear!”

  From the back of the house, a Denver FBI agent shouted, “Agent DeWalt, you need to see this!”

  Harry rushed towards the sound and saw the agent standing at a converted closet in the master bedroom. A large monitor with split screen showed infrared images from around the building along with a microphone and other digital controls. As they watched, the screen went black. Luther had deactivated his bedroom control center and was now controlling everything from his secure center in the basement.

  Luther had used one of the hidden doors from his bedroom and had taken the concealed elevator down to the basement. He thrust open a set of lockers, changed into a set of military camouflage fatigues and opened the weapons closet. Within five seconds, Luther grabbed his ammo belt, the Sig Sauer, pulled on the armor vest and finally grabbed the shotgun. This was what he had prepared for. He had the upper hand. He had eyes everywhere and he could take them down one by one.

  ~

  While Luther was gearing up in the basement, Harry DeWalt was baffled. “Where the fuck is he?” There must be a basement. Find the access point, dammit! We need to get this guy in cuffs!”

  They split up and began searching for the access to the basement. As they looked, Marie crept into the master bedroom, looking for the telltale signs of a door opening. She was staring at a wall unit off to the side of the converted closet with the now-dead surveillance controls, thinking that the door might be there. She didn’t hear the full-length mirror behind her slide to the side.

  Within an instant, Luther’s arm locked around her throat and a pad soaked in chloroform was pressed over her mouth. Luther dragged her through the door and it immediately closed behind them. Marie was till struggling and trying to fight him off when the door closed. With his left arm still around her neck, he stuck a syringe into her with his right hand and she passed out.

  ~

  When Marie came around, her wrists and ankles were shackled to a metal chair and Luther Fisher was standing over her.

  “You are going to wish you’d never been born, bitch! Why are the fucking feds here?” demanded Luther as he slapped Marie hard across her face.

  “And don’t you dare lie to me, bitch!”

  Marie saw no reason to lie. When she signed on to be a police officer, she knew that she was putting her life on the line. She just hoped that she wouldn’t suffer. She would rather aggravate Luther to the point where he killed her than give him the satisfaction of seeing her in pain. It had been the same with her father as he repeatedly beat her. She retreated to a place in her mind that dismissed the pain. There was never a time when she gave her father the satisfaction of seeing her cry. This son of a bitch wouldn’t see her fear either.

  “You raped the girl in Nashville and that is a Class A felony. That’s why they’re here! They’re here to arrest you!”

  Luther’s eyes grew wide as he began shifting blame. “I didn’t do that. Jim McCord and Billy Pell did it!”

  “Jim McCord said you did it when we arrested him and is willing to testify to that effect.”

  Luther started to speak by Marie cut him off.

  “You’re not going to argue your way out of this, Luther!” said Marie triumphantly. “If you believe you’re innocent, then your best chance will be to surrender and tell your side of the story.”

  Luther punched Marie in the stomach and said, “I have a video of the rape and it shows McCord and Pell doing her!”

  Marie coughed and said, “Oh yeah? And who was doing the filming, Luther, Stephen fucking Spielberg? You were there, and you were involved, so you’re as guilty as the rest of them!”

  Luther hit her again and kicked her in the groin. He was now in a panic. They had him caged. He could hold out for a while but the end was a forgone conclusion. His head was spinning when Marie, rolling the dice with her life, made her move.

  She lifted her head very deliberately and while making sure that Luther was watching her, rolled her eyes back in her head, just as Nora McConnell had done and said, “Summer wants you to come to her!”

  Luther’s mouth fell open like a bolt of lightning hit him between the eyes. He stared at Marie like she was some grotesque apparition and yelled, “What the fuck did you just say?”

  Marie rolled her eyes back again and said exactly the same thing in exactly the same way, “Summer wants you to come to her!”

  Luther grabbed the Sig Sauer and pressed it to Marie’s temple. “I should just shoot you now, bitch! You’re making this up!”

  “Summer wants you to come to her at the lake!” said Marie in the same melodic tone.

  “How do you know this?” demanded Luther.

  “I talk to the dead,” said Marie. “That’s why I asked you what your wife’s name was the last time I was here.”

  “Liar, you’re a fucking liar!” screamed Luther. “If you’re talking to Summer, ask her where she was when she fell in the water?”

  Again, Marie rolled her eyes back, “She’s telling me that she was on a recliner at the end of the boat dock drinking wine with Mary McCord!”

  Again, a look of astonishment came over Luther. “You could have read that in the police report, you liar!” hissed Luther. “So bitch, one more question for you to answer. You get it wrong and I shoot you in the head!”

  Marie heard the Sig Saur cock. “Ask Summer what her favorite perfume is!” said Luther defiantly.

  Marie rolled her eyes “Chloe, her favorite perfume is Chloe!”

  Luther almost collapsed in a heap at her feet as his legs turned to rubber. This police bitch was actually talking with Summer.

  ~

  Luther Fisher took a moment to regain his composure. He needed time to think. After a few minutes, he picked up the microphone, pressed a couple of buttons, and began to speak.

  “I want you off my property or the bitch dies!”

  The sound was deafening as it reverberated around the house from the twenty-speaker system.

  “I didn’t rape the girl in Nashville, Jim McCord and Billy Pell did that, so back off and get the hell out of here. Do it and I’ll make sure that she is unharmed.”

  Luther watched their reaction from the infrared camera system. He could see them leaving the house but they congregated outside and looked to be trying to decide what to do.

  Harry DeWalt grabbed a bullhorn and stood apart from the rest of the team.

  “This is Special Agent Harry DeWalt of the FBI. I am the agent in charge here. We will get back in our vehicles and pull back. You will let Detective Mason exit from the front door of your property and when she is back and safe with us, then we can talk and hear your side of the story!”

  From the cabin property, Tommy and Raul could hear everything echoing over the valley. He jumped up and said, “He’s got Marie! I need to get back over there!”

  “No! That makes no sense, Tommy. We can’t leave our position here!” responded Raul.

  Tommy was now in full panic. Luther had Marie, his colleague and friend. He had to do something. He called Harry DeWalt.

  “Agent DeWalt, do you need Raul and I to leave our positions and come over there to provide support?” yelled Tommy over the radio.

  “Hold your position, Detective Ross. We don’t
know what he’s up to and he might make a run for it.”

  Tommy’s heart was aching with fear for Marie but he stayed put as ordered. He wasn’t going to let her die. That was not going to happen!

  ~

  Back in the basement, Luther’s mind was whirling. If he gave up the bitch, then they would just storm the place and probably gas him out if they couldn’t find the secret door access to the basement. They were not to be trusted. He needed time to think.

  He needed to get to the lake and see Summer again before he made his escape. He needed to tell her why he was leaving and where he was going, otherwise how could she possibly find him again.

  Luther had constructed a plan for an organized withdrawal to the cabin bunker if the main house was compromised. The cabin was protected by Claymore anti personnel mines and other ordinance. If he had to flee the cabin, there was a final escape route to the lake at Navajo State Park. He had renovated an old boathouse located on the north side of the lake that had been long since deserted. Inside the boathouse, he had hidden a speedboat that he planned to use to travel south on the lake and cross the border into New Mexico. He had hidden a car near Route 511 that he could then take to make his escape to Albuquerque and then south to Mexico.

  Luther clicked on the radio and said, “OK, I agree! Pull back and when I see you’re gone, I will release her!”

  Through the infrared monitors, he could see that they were getting into their cars and pulling back.

  While this was all going down, Jack Johnson had been updating Tommy and Raul on the radio with every development and asked that they be ready for anything. Tommy and Raul had pulled out from the gravel road where they had parked the SUV and drove toward the cabin. As they got within twenty feet or so, the Dobermans went ballistic. Their barking was irrelevant now. Raul turned the SUV cruiser around so it faced down the road so that any approaching vehicle would come at them head on.

  Meanwhile, Harry DeWalt called the chopper crew at the airport and told them to have the engines running and the blades turning so they were ready if they needed to use it in a hurry. It would take them thirty-five minutes to get to the airport from the Fisher house as there was no place for the chopper to land at the property.