Caribbean Rain

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Caribbean Rain Page 19

by Rick Murcer


  “Well, helping is what I’m all about and, just for the record, my name’s Tina Martinez and I get off work at four.”

  “That’s the best information I’ve had all morning,” he smiled.

  Pulling the page of the phone book from his pocket, he spread it out on her desk. “I need one of these and thought you’d know the best place to find one.”

  Tina’s eyes got big and her grin bigger. “I guess this means you’ll not be picking me up for dinner,” she joked.

  “Pretty and smart, a great combo. As nice as that sounds, you can see how hard that would be.”

  “I have a couple ideas that would help. Give me your phone number, and I’ll call you when I have something. Are you going to need anything to go with this?”

  “No, I think I have everything I need.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll call you. And are you sure you don’t want…”

  The elevator opened, and the rest of the BAU emerged, almost in unison. Dean brought up the rear.

  “Let’s eat,” said Alex. “I’m starved.”

  The CSI didn’t break stride, walked past Manny, and led the others directly into the restaurant.

  “I saw you in your skivvies last night. I’m ordering your breakfast. Fruit, oatmeal, and coffee, decaf. That’s it,” said Sophie.

  “Sounds good. That’ll go great with the bacon, sausage, and eggs,” said Alex.

  Manny shook his head and looked back at the concierge. “That’s my cue. Thanks, Tina. I appreciate your help.”

  Walking just behind Sophie, Chloe fell in step with him, looking a little tired, but ever so stunning.

  “What were ya doing there?”

  “Just passing some time waiting for you all.”

  Awkward wasn’t usually part of his experience, but there it was. Manny bowed his head as he was rushed with a million memories from Chloe’s room.

  “Listen. About last night. I want to thank you—”

  She put her finger on his lips, caressing them with her soft touch. “You’ll be thanking me soon enough, several times, I might add.”

  He let out a breath. “I hope I’m up for the challenge.”

  She grinned. “I’ll help with that.”

  Looking directly in his eyes, she touched his hand. “Just so you know. I didn’t look inside the phone book to see what you tore out. It was hard, ya know, but I did it. So are you going to tell me what you’re up to?”

  “Soon, Chloe, soon.”

  After they finished breakfast, they entered the lobby, and Manny noticed Detective Crouse, hands on hips, waiting for them. The look on her face was even more indicative of her mood.

  “I hope you’re all ready for a big day because, as of seven thirty-one this morning, it got bigger.”

  Chapter-45

  “What the hell does that mean?” asked Josh.

  Manny thought he knew. “Was there another package?”

  Crouse raised her eyebrows, almost surprised that Manny had guessed, then nodded. “It was found on a bench in Ocean Park by one of the bike cops. It looked suspicious, and when he approached it, he saw it was addressed to Ruiz. But the officer had no idea where it had come from, and no one seems to have seen anything. We did a little canvassing of the area, without any luck, but we’ll try some more when people are up.”

  They walked out the rotating front door and into the famous Caribbean sun.

  Manny asked the question no one else really wanted to. “What was in it?”

  “A foot, a left foot. They’re not sure it’s Anna’s yet, but it probably is. The CSU’s only had the box and the foot for about an hour. They’ll give you what they have at the meeting.”

  “Does Carlos know?” asked Josh.

  Bowing her head, she sighed. “No. He’s under guard at his house so he’ll behave and not get involved in the investigation. But someone will let him know. He’s got a lot of friends.”

  Trying to grasp the thoughts making a circle dash in his brain was next to impossible. What the hell did the killer expect to accomplish from this? A diversion? Divide and conquer? Neither seemed right. Again, why Anna? Every time the killer did this, it gave law enforcement a better chance to zero in on him—or maybe that’s what he wanted them to think. Did doing this to Anna even have anything to do with the other murders this deranged pimple on society’s ass had committed; even worse, was it starting to reveal what the unsub was truly about?

  “Let’s get you back to headquarters, and we can talk some more,” said Crouse.

  “I think not, especially now,” said Josh, sounding like his old self.

  “What?”

  “We’re not going back to the SJPD headquarters,” said Josh.

  Detective Crouse put her hands on her hips, standing at the front of the blue Chevy Traverse. The quick frown, followed by a momentary look of uncertainty, grabbed Manny’s attention. No one likes being told what to do, especially by someone you don’t like and who’s not your boss. He understood that, who wouldn’t? But the look puzzled him just the same. Almost as if she knew something they didn’t.

  “Why? We’ve got things set up for a briefing with our CSU people, and a group of our best detectives want to be involved in the brainstorming. Not to mention, you were going to offer up that famous BAU profile. You’re here to save the damned day, remember?” said Crouse.

  “We can still do that, after I get a list of all of the people you want to be involved in this investigation. We’ll run a background check, and if things look good, they’ll be allowed into the meeting—at the FBI offices in Hato Rey.”

  “Background checks? Why?” She shifted her feet, her eyes turning dark, angry dark.

  “Last night’s little incident was not just some lucky guess by a scumbag drug dealer. No one knew where we were staying, except your office and mine. Standard operating procedure for the FBI. Then knowing which room Manny was supposed to be in took it up a notch further.”

  “Yeah, I heard about that this morning. So that makes you think someone from my office is in bed with Fogerty?”

  No hiding her pissy mindset now, but that wasn’t what really bothered Manny. The fact that Josh had put it together, and he hadn’t really thought that way, made his stomach tighten. He ran his hand through his hair. It was right in front of him. Fogerty certainly had a contact in the hotel, but he’d missed the other connection, and it was obvious. Shit. He threw Chloe a side glance and let the truth slap him one more time. She was good for him in every way, except when they were on a case. No doubt about that now. Even that glance had changed how his thoughts were bouncing around in his brain.

  Better get it together, Williams.

  “I know it, Detective. This is a pisser of a case and we have no idea who, or what, we’re dealing with, and I’m sure as hell not going to let a revenge-crazed asshole like Fogerty complicate things. I’m not going down this road with people that I don’t trust, and frankly, could get us killed. So there’s no debating my decision.”

  That infamous folding of the arms arcoss her chest came quickly, but he could see she’d resigned herself to the logic and the decision.

  “So what’s next?” Crouse asked, lips tight.

  “You’re going to drop us off at the Federal Building, go back to your office, get me the list of people that asked to be part of this investigation, including your CSU people, text or fax it to me, then we’ll go from there. Any questions?”

  Detective Crouse got into the front seat, gripped the top of the steering wheel with both hands, her long fingers turning white, and stared straight ahead.

  Sophie nudged Manny as they climbed into the back of the SUV. “I think she needs a man, maybe worse than Mucus needs a woman,” she whispered.

  “That could be true, but I’m not offering my services.”

  “Yeah, that could be painful.”

  The others climbed in, Dean and Alex carrying their crime scene cases. Dean was toting a large briefcase that Manny hadn’t remembered seeing before. />
  After Crouse got the SUV in motion and turned onto the four-lane, Manny pointed at the case. “What’s in that?”

  “Oh, that,” answered Alex. “It’s our report information. I had it printed at headquarters last night, and Dean volunteered to carry it.”

  “Volunteered?” said Dean. “I was drafted.”

  “I guess your initiation is complete. Welcome to the party,” said Josh.

  “Let’s see, a lunatic running around killing half the island with some kind of sword, body parts put together like some life-size puzzle, a mongoose with rabies killed by Chinese throwing stars, and a possible security leak to a piece-of-shit drug lord: yep, I think that qualifies as a party. I guess I should say thanks. So thanks for the invite,” smiled Dean.

  Manny wondered if Dean would feel the same when this one was over. Hell, would any of them feel like that when this was over, and would they all make it through? That train of thought made him think past nervous. A quote he read a long time ago came rushing back.

  No war worth fighting is without sacrifice.

  Shoving it away, it decided to stay.

  Chapter-46

  “Your services have proven to be invaluable. There’ll be a little more in the envelope next month.”

  Fogerty pressed the disconnect button on the pay-as-you-go phone and tossed it on the lush leather seat.

  “Dey go som place else, boss?” asked Braxton. “Like de Feder-ral buildin?”

  “Very astute, my friend, very astute. Possibly they put together that we had a little inside help locating the Feds’ hotel.”

  “Dat, or maybe dey be more comfortable in der.”

  “Perhaps. But contrary to what some folks think, the FBI is not an organization riddled with idiots. Most of them can add two plus two. I think someone came up with four. They also know that there wasn’t any real danger of Williams dying, just inflicting some pain, and at the very least, scare his pretty-boy ass.”

  “Yeah, dat’s true, but dat little vixen, Lee, got our message, not him.”

  Stroking his chin, Fogerty nodded. “They, no doubt, think I had something to do with it. There’s no way to prove it, but they’ll be trying.”

  “Already sent one of da boys to take care of dat little problem. He won’t be reportin’ ta work at da hotel tonight. It’ll be a heart attack dat da doctors will tink happened.”

  He smiled. “When was the last time I gave you a raise? You’re always on top of these situations.”

  Braxton’s bold, white smile broadened across his face. “I don’t do dis for da money, boss. Besides, you pay me too good already, and da benafeet package is perfect, ya know?” Then he threw back his head and laughed. A gesture, no matter how many times Fogerty watched him do it, made him ever so slightly nervous. There was an extremely fine line between what Braxton was good at and insanity, very fine. But he supposed they could say that about him, as well. In the end, wasn’t everyone insane? Everyone crazy-stupid for something?

  If the Feds were right, and he was starting to think maybe they were, and this wasn’t a hit message aimed at his little girl and her dumb shit husband and ultimately him, then their killer was a prime example of someone who’d gone deep and would never come up.

  Crazy is as crazy does.

  “We’ll give them a few minutes to get to the FBI offices, then wait for them. I suspect we’ll need another vehicle. This one could be starting to be recognizable.”

  “I’ll get one of dos big SUVs.”

  After a moment, he held up two fingers. “Get two. If they stick with what they do, they’ll probably go in at least two different directions trying to follow up on any leads, whatever those are, and we don’t want to be on the outside looking in. Hopefully, our contact won’t allow that, but one never knows.”

  A moment later, the phone he’d tossed on the seat began to vibrate. He picked it up and read the text, then calmly put the phone in his pocket.

  Braxton nodded. “Any ting else?”

  “Just one, for now. Which one of our people made the contact at the test lab?”

  Braxton pointed to the large man riding shotgun in the front seat. “Domingo.”

  “What a coincidence. Just the man I wanted to speak with. Open the soundproof partition; I want to thank him personally.”

  Braxton fidgeted, blinked twice, then did what he was told.

  Fogerty left his seat and moved to the one facing the rear, directly behind Domingo. He then tapped him on the shoulder.

  Turning in Fogerty’s direction, he smiled. “Yes sir?”

  “Good job last night, Domingo.”

  “Tank you sir. Dat’s what you pay me for.”

  “Indeed. Do you have a family, Domingo?”

  “I do. Wife and two kiddies.”

  “Extra money in your pay would help, yes?”

  “Mr. Fogerty, I—”

  “No need to thank me. You earned it, and this.”

  In one motion, he grabbed Domingo’s neck and with a seemingly harmless flip of his hands, snapped the C1 and C2 vertebrae. The loud crack said so. The big man shivered, then slumped against the door, eyes open.

  He tapped the driver on the shoulder. “After you find a place to dump this son of a bitch, let’s get a couple of different vehicles, shall we?”

  Then he settled back in his seat and drew on his cup of vanilla latte.

  Braxton whispered something to the wide-eyed driver. He put the car in gear and moved into the street.

  “Boss?”

  “I’ll tell you more later, and there will be some heat, but it appears that Domingo, with his wife and two kiddies, wasn’t exactly what he said he was.”

  A look of apprehension crossed Braxton’s face as he glanced at the floor, then back to Fogerty.

  He waved his hand to dismiss Braxton’s concerns.

  “I know you hired him. We’ll have to review that process when the time is right, but those mistakes are the kind that can ruin us all, maybe worse.”

  Braxton nodded, more fear than anxiety creeping into his bloodshot eyes.

  He would deal with that later, but right now he needed his number one on his game.

  He leaned forward, putting his hand on Braxton’s knee. “If I were going to dismiss you, my friend, you’d be dead already, yes?”

  “I tink dat’d be true.”

  “All right then. Let’s get to what we need to get to.”

  There was a quick smile. “I be sorry, boss. I tought he was a good mon for us.”

  “I know. We’ll talk about how the DEA was able to get him into our camp soon enough.”

  And you’ll have plenty of time to be sorry, my ebony giant. Plenty of time.

  Chapter-47

  “Get some more of this coffee, will you?” asked Sophie, batting her eyes at Josh, and rattling her cup on the oak conference table in the FBI’s third-floor conference room.

  The infectious grin that Josh flashed, the one that had become a bit of a trademark for him, made Manny smile too. Something had changed in the last ten hours, and he was looking forward to finding out what.

  “It is pretty good stuff, isn’t it? I’ll send for some when the pot’s empty.”

  “That won’t be long the way Mucus is draining it.”

  “It’s Mikus, Agent. Mikus.” said Dean patiently.

  “Whatever, just save some for the rest of us.”

  Fingering the file and the stack of reports in front of him, Manny felt his smile fade. Josh’s next statement didn’t help to resolve the churning in his gut either.

  “Coffee issues aside, we need to get to work. It doesn’t look like this perp sleeps much and he’s busy, and yes, I do agree with Dean. This is definitely a man,” said Josh.

  “You’re probably right, at least statistically speaking, ya know? But what makes you so sure?” asked Chloe.

  “Manny said so,” grinned Josh.

  Sophie snorted a laugh, coffee spraying from her mouth and nose. “Well, that works for me, but
care to share why you think that?” she coughed.

  Chloe’s eyes came alive as she scanned his face. “You’re the best I’ve seen, but I gotta go with Sophie on this one.”

  “Fair enough,” said Manny. “And for the record, Dean put most of the logic to it.”

  “Dean! Maybe you’ll get to stay after all,” said Sophie, winking at the CSI.

  Dean blushed, fidgeted with his hands, and nodded. “That’d make my day, maybe my life, Princess.”

  “Did you hear that, Dough Boy? I love this guy.”

  “Anyway, Dean had mentioned the force it would take to do what this perp did, plus the intricate purposes for each cut. Not typical for a woman serial killer, but still not out of the question. The required training for a woman to accomplish this would be at the very least, an anomaly.”

  “Yeah, but say it was someone like me,” said Sophie. “I’ve had training from my dad and brother for over fifteen years.”

  “That’s true, but the last part of this has to do with a bit of evidence found in the morgue.”

  “Evidence? What evidence?” asked Chloe.

  “The footprint in the blood at the mortuary was ten and one-half, 3E, in a man’s shoe.”

  “How did you know that?” frowned Sophie.

  “I’ll answer that,” said Josh. “Manny pointed it out at the crime scene, and the SJPD’s CSU took it from there because Alex and Dean were going to have their hands full. They accessed the TreadMark database, it has about twelve-thousand shoe types and treads, and they sent me an email showing me what they found.”

  “Damn, I forgot about that one. Can I get access to that? You know, for shoe-shopping purposes?”

  “Shopping? Really?” asked Josh.

  “Just messing with you.”

  She looked at Manny. “Is that why you were in your own little world, again, studying the blood streaks across the floor?”

  “Partially. I’ll get into that in a minute, but we need to go over Alex and Dean’s report, plus the other files from the SJPD, and then—”

  “I know, you need to have some alone time with them,” said Alex.

  Manny sighed. How many times had he done just that? Countless occasions he listened as the dead spoke, or at least tried, and watched the evidence make enormous efforts to conceal itself. It struck him as a classic battle for control. The dead knew the truth, and the elusive evidence wanted to keep it hidden.

 

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