Caribbean Rain

by Rick Murcer

  As the vehicle left the circle driveway, Sophie pointed to a man sprinting across the median from Carlos Chardon Avenue. He jumped the yellow curb and was running directly at them.

  “What the hell’s going on with him?”

  Josh watched the picture unfold in front of them as three more men came into view, running after the first man, two of them had weapons pulled and were yelling.

  “Hey, isn’t that first guy Detective—?”

  Dean didn’t finish his sentence because the first bullet that hit the windshield caused him to duck.

  In an instant, Sophie yanked the vehicle to the left, away from Detective Ruiz and the weapon he had in his hand.

  Chapter-52

  “Sweet mother of Jesus,” whispered Alex. “This just went to the top of the list.”

  Not able to speak at that moment, Manny only nodded. The climate in the rainforest had accelerated the decaying process, and all four bodies were bloated to the size of Thanksgiving Day Parade balloons. Add in the repulsive, metallic stench, the buzz of blow flies, and a few other insects he didn’t recognize, and you could chalk this crime scene up to one of the worst he’d ever witnessed. More sleepless nights and a visit or two to the FBI’s shrink staff were on the horizon. And he’d be lucky if that was all.

  He scanned each body slowly and was suddenly struck with his own mortality. It had entered his mind a time or two over the years, especially in Galway, Ireland, but to see what this maniac was capable of drove the point home. God had watched out for him—he had no doubt regarding that—but we all have an appointment with destiny. Louise was proof, and he suspected everyone, deep down, knew it. Knowing and accepting were about as compatible as fire and ice, and he thought most people knew that, too.

  “You’re trancing, and I think I need to learn,” said Alex.

  “No. Just thinking.”

  “If it’s about death and dying, forget it. It’ll make you crazy, and that’s not why we’re here.”

  “You’re right on both counts.”

  Standing, he ran his hand through his hair and tried to get a feel for what had gone down in this little area of paradise. You can’t do this to four people unless you surprise them like a trained jungle guerilla. Or maybe they were taken off guard because the killer seemed harmless. Maybe they knew him. His vote this time was for knowing the killer. No one would seem harmless approaching a campsite early on Saturday morning. If he was right, what exactly did that mean? Relative? Jealous coworker? Professional associate?

  He squatted next to Alex, both of them feeling the heat and perspiring to prove it.

  “Tell me something good,” said Manny.

  “You first.”

  “All right. I think these people knew him. It’s hard to surprise more than one or two folks without one of them getting the opportunity to escape or at least scream for help.”

  “Yeah, but even if you knew him, after the first swing of the blade, maybe the second, the others would be on their way to anywhere but here, right?”

  “Right, but I don’t think they were all together. If you look close enough, you can see subtle breaks in the vegetation and the dirt over there has drag marks. Let me show you something else.”

  Still on his haunches, Manny pointed to the cracked cement slab. “There are small streaks of blood on that slab, and you’ll let me know for sure, but it looks like there’s a crossing pattern, indicating that more than one body was dragged over it and from different directions.”

  Inhaling from his mouth so as not to take in too much of the smell, he pointed to the ground behind the faded bench supporting the heads. “There are different angles of blood splatter on the leaves and the stones. Also, the amounts vary. To me, that says he killed them one at a time and at slightly different times. And not to put a damper on your ‘run screaming into the woods and hope for the best’ theory, but where in hell are you going to run if he’s coming in from the same direction we did?”

  Alex surveyed the area, then nodded slowly. “You’re correct. It’s almost a natural boxed-in location, but he couldn’t have known that, right?”

  “That’s probably true, unless he knew the area and had that in mind when he planned this one. Even if he didn’t really realize it, he may have counted on the fact that the rainforest is a tough place to navigate.”

  “Sounds true.”

  “Your turn, what do you have?”

  “Right. First, I gotta say that I thought some of the shit Argyle pulled was something from the dark ages, but this is something to make Count Vlad the Impaler proud.”

  “No argument from me.”

  Standing up, Manny stood with him. Alex was still sweating, but he wore a paler shade than when they first arrived. He probably did, too.

  “They’ve been dead for about three hours, but these conditions make it appear longer. You talked about the blood patterns outside the body area, and that makes sense. We’ll have to go over the perimeter to see exactly where they were all killed, but I won’t lie, the moisture and the rain will make that tougher. We have our ways, luminol, for one, but these conditions are going to be a factor. Also, look here at the cuts on the abdomens of both women. It’s like he was thinking of playing a little more, then decided not to.”

  “Maybe he was running short of time.”

  “That’s probably it, but once we get them cleaned up we’ll get a better idea. Also, if you look at the area where the heads left the bodies of three of them, the angle of cuts, at least to the naked eye, looks the same. The head on the far left belongs to the body on the right, and the cut looks like it angles slightly up, but for the most part, the man could be a damned surgeon with that kind of precision.”

  Manny frowned. “Would you say that this victim was a little taller than the others?”

  “I would. But—oh. If the angle’s a little on the up slant then—”

  “We might be able to get a height for him, and that’s a great start.”

  “One of the blues is about the right height. I’ll get him over here and see what I can figure out.”

  “Good.”

  Alex raised his hands in the air. “There are more obvious things to do. There must be about a million places to collect samples of dirt and bugs, and I have to start taking pictures now.”

  “Have at it. I can handle going to the other scenes. It might even be better to be alone.”

  “That works. Because I need to be here when the CSU, hopefully two units, arrives. I’m going to have to stay and make sure they do it right.”

  “It’ll take me a few hours, but I’ll call you if anything jumps out at me,” said Manny.

  “I’ll do the same.”

  Manny left, careful to avoid any area that could hold a clue, and headed for the SUV. He drove through the roadblock, looked at the map of the five murder sites, and decided to start with the first victims, then he would go where Amanda Griggs and her husband died, then the Britton Tower, then where Josh’s brother was killed.

  Moving up 191, he was halfway to his starting point and stopped the vehicle. He ran the set of pictures from the first crime scenes in El Yunque over in his mind, then progressed to the last one where Caleb was killed.

  The altar-like site was a better place to start. He didn’t know why, but it was right. Protocol had always called for beginning at the beginning and going forward. But what if backtracking from the last to the first could reveal more? Who knew . . . maybe the killer’s boldness caused him to make a mistake, or at the very least, his arrogance might lead to something.

  Driving back down 191, he moved through the roadblock and, ten minutes later, reached the Palo Colorado parking area.

  He stuffed the map in his pocket, grabbed a bottle of water, moved across the road, and started down the Bano De Oro trail.

  Manny never noticed the large, dark man exiting the pickup parked a few spots away from his SUV, following him.

  Chapter-53

  The black Traverse rose over the curb in
front of the Federal Building and skidded in a semi-circle on the grass as Sophie cranked the vehicle to the left. Her reaction caused the SUV to roll up on two wheels, hesitate, thump the lush grass, and settle facing Ruiz’s direction, but at an angle forty-five degrees from where it began. She quickly scanned for Ruiz and didn’t see him, but noticed that the three men chasing him were running in the other direction and disappeared around the corner a block away.

  “Where in the hell is Ruiz?” shouted Sophie.

  “I don’t see him,” said Chloe.

  “Me either. Shit. Maybe’s he’s down. Those three weren’t throwing water balloons,” said Josh.

  The calm in his voice surprised her, but at the same time gave her a shot of confidence.

  That’s why he makes the big bucks.

  “C’mon. Anyone see the Detective? Dean?” asked Sophie.

  “I don’t. But then again, I’m just pulling my head out from between my legs. I thought we were going over.”

  “Not on my watch.”

  “Still don’t see—oh damn. He’s lying on that section of grass over by the flag. See him?” said Chloe.

  Gripping the wheel, Sophie ran the movie they’d just witnessed backward in her mind and realized that maybe what they thought they saw wasn’t the truth.

  Caution was the word of the moment.

  She popped open the door, pulled the slide back on her Glock, and stepped out.

  “Where are you going? He could be just waiting for this very thing,” barked Josh.

  “I don’t think so, but get your ass out of the truck and cover mine.”

  Looking at her with more than a little doubt, he finally opened the door. A moment later, Chloe and Dean did as well, and Sophie led them toward the crumpled figure on the ground.

  “You think he wasn’t shooting at us?” asked Dean.

  “Not sure, but maybe he was just protecting himself and was trying to get our attention. We’ll find out in a minute.”

  By then, she heard an alarm bugling from the Federal Building and the accompanying shouts. The infantry was on the way.

  Moving with less caution, Sophie approached Ruiz, who was on his side facing away from them. After another step, his arm fell toward his back and he flipped over, causing each of the agents to stop with weapons poised, but there was no need. The blood on his shoulder and chest said so. Detective Ruiz opened his eyes, focused on Sophie, and pleaded with her in the way an injured animal pleads for help without uttering a word.

  Holstering her weapon, she rushed to him and kneeled. She could see the twin holes in his right shoulder and rib cage, both oozing blood at an alarming rate.

  “Easy, Ruiz. We’re getting help.”

  She turned to Josh, but he was already on the phone, requesting an ambulance.

  “I—I need . . . to talk . . . to you.”

  His voice trailed off, and unexpected compassion ransacked her thoughts. This man had lived enough hell over the years, now he may not see another day. It didn’t seem fair, but who said life was fair?

  Shit.

  “Don’t talk. Save your strength. You can tell me later.”

  Ruiz’s eyes cleared, and he moved his head back and forth, wincing as he did. “I’m not sure I’ll have the chance.” His voice was steady but weak.

  “That’s crazy talk.”

  “Just listen.”

  He swallowed hard, pursed his lips, and continued. “Fogerty’s men. I was on his payroll. I hooked up with him through a friend. So sorry. I had all of those bills from . . . Anna’s counseling.”

  The detective coughed, and it was so harsh that a chill ran up her spine.

  Somewhere a siren was bellowing.

  Ruiz closed his eyes and began to breathe shallower. At that moment, she hated everything about being a cop, but she also knew doing what you had to do was part of the job, so she did it.

  “Ruiz! Don’t you do this,” she yelled, and then shook him.

  His eyes fluttered open and that awful wince was far worse than the first.

  “Yeah, getting tired, agent. There’s a record of the money. In a book at the house. Desk drawer by the computer. Blue. Anna’s favorite color . . . I think. Pictures of some of the drops from his man, Bra—Braxton. Sorry. I’ve been giving him . . . info on you, all of you. He knows a lot. Sorry. Thousand a month is good money. You can nail him, though. Also names of other cops on . . . his pay . . . roll. I did it for her.”

  Trying to laugh, the blood bubbled from the hole in his ribs, and scarlet foam ran at the corner of his mouth.

  “Guess I—that’s what all dads say when . . . they screw up. Had to try. Is she. . . ?”

  Sophie put her hand on his, glanced up at Josh, and fought off the emotion. Later. She’d think about it later.

  Like I have a choice.

  “Still alive. We just can’t find her, but we’ve got leads. We’ll do it.”

  The siren was ever so closer. Sophie thought it was no more than a block away. It might as well be in Lansing.

  His eyes drooped shut, then sprang open, even though his breathing was even more labored, and the color of his skin was on the wild side of pale.

  “I—something. Professor she liked. Might. Able to help . . . criminal justice. Tall . . .”

  “Okay. You did good, Ruiz.”

  The ambulance pulled around the corner, and she heard the doors slam as the EMTs got their act in motion.

  Glancing at Ruiz, she squeezed his hand. “Help is here.”

  The detective’s eyes told her it didn’t matter. They were staring at a world no one gets to see until you go through the door yourself.

  Chloe inhaled in an effort to control her emotion. She failed.

  Josh swore as he motioned to the crew from the ambulance.

  Sophie wiped at the tear in the corner of her eye, vowed this was her last case. Then she got out of the way as the EMTs went to work, even though they were too late—again.

  When do I get a good déjà vu?

  Dean took her arm and escorted her away from the detective, with Chloe and Josh close behind, and she let him. His hands were strong, comforting, and almost furry. Odd. She hadn’t noticed that before.

  They reached the SUV, and she leaned against it.

  “That sucked,” said Josh.

  “It did. Good God, I hate this shit,” she answered.

  “But we’ve got more work to do. Like Manny says, we can cry tomorrow,” Josh responded.

  “Yeah. I don’t know how in hell he does that. That off-to-on cop-mode thing, but I need to get better at that or find another damned job,” she answered.

  “You? The rest of us ain’t exactly gonna sleep tight tonight, ya know?” said Chloe.

  “No truer words,” whispered Dean.

  Josh stood a little straighter, and the look on his face got her attention. Was that worry?

  “We’ve still got to get to the rainforest. I don’t like it that Fogerty knows more about us than we apparently know about him. I’m sending a team over to Ruiz’s to get that book and pictures. If he was telling the truth, we can nail Fogerty for bribery, maybe extortion, and start the ball rolling to put this guy away for a long time.”

  “Wait. Go back to what you just said. He knows more about us? Does he know that Manny and Alex are at the rainforest?” asked Chloe.

  He rolled his eyes in disgust. “Shit. I got a text from Manny that Alex was staying at the new crime scene—alone—and Manny was headed for the other sites—alone.”

  Pulling the phone from his shirt pocket, Josh stepped away. “I’ve got to make a call, hang tight.”

  Panic for Manny had never really been on Sophie’s radar. Maybe a little after Louise had died, but he’d always been the man; big, strong, and smart. He’d always been able to take care of himself. So, why the freaking red flag now? Was it because of the concern in Chloe’s voice or—

  “Get into the damn truck. We’re heading out,” Josh ordered.

  Josh turned to Dea
n. “Listen. Chloe, Sophie, and I are going to El Yunque. You’re going with the team to Ruiz’s house and make sure they don’t screw anything up. We can’t have that evidence tainted. I just talked to Detective Crouse. I don’t have the info yet on the background checks for the SJPD, but I think we can trust her. She’s going to meet you there.”

  “Like hell. I’m going with you. You’re my team and—”

  “Dean. Some of our agents could be on that payroll list. You have to make sure that’s covered. We’ve got Fogerty nailed. Got it?”

  The CSI turned his palm to the sky and started to speak just as Sophie came around the front of the truck. Another thing that had to be done, but this one would be far more pleasant.

  She stood on her toes and kissed Dean on the cheek. “Thanks for being willing, but Josh is right. Lots of shit flowing, and we need you to shovel on the other end. Okay?”

  The CSI was still touching his face and wearing an incredulous look to boot as she guided the SUV off the lawn and onto the road, racing to the rainforest.

  “Well done, Lee,” said Josh.

  “Yeah. I had to do something. I’ve kissed worse.”

  The voice in the back seat was less comforting.

  “Manny? Call me, and I mean now, man.”

  Sophie glanced at Chloe in the rearview mirror as she slammed her phone down on the seat and swore. She picked it up again, left three more messages, and clutched it to her chest, anxiety draping her face.

  Pressing the accelerator, Sophie’s heart began to race.

  Chapter-54

  The knock on the door surprised him. He’d only been back from the rainforest for a few minutes and hadn’t had time to clean up. He wasn’t in any hurry to answer the door wearing the results of his morning pilgrimage.

  Lucy. You got some ‘splainin to do.

  Ducking into the bathroom, he washed his face, stripped, threw on a tank top and another pair of shorts, and made his way to the door, weapon in hand. Samuel Crouse had always been a cautious man—his mom and his tart of a wife had taught him the importance of that. He snorted as he bent to the peephole. It was hard to believe his bitch of a wife had been able to teach him anything, other than women are not to be trusted on any level, unless it was your mother, or maybe a grandmother.