by Gale Borger
Fred opened the front door and climbed in. She looked into Armand's startled eyes and said, "You know, Armand, it's really very sweet of you to come back for us."
Armand had that deer-in-the-headlights look. "Ahhh, I, well, it's kind-of my job, Miss Miller."
"Your job does not include coming back after hours to tote us across town." She patted his knee and I thought he was going to go through the roof.
"Just drive," Evo barked and Armand hit the gas.
Fred didn't let him off the hook, however. "So what's a nice Italian boy from uh, Queens, right?" At Armand's wide-eyed, slow nod she continued. "From Queens doing driving a Limo in Lima, Peru, in South America, listening to Reggae music and a police scanner?"
Armand swallowed. He stared out the windshield and mumbled. "How did you figure that? Man, I thought I had it goin' on with the South American thing." He looked in the mirror. I smiled. Armand winced. Evo rubbed his face and Sam looked perplexed.
Fred just stared at Armand.
Armand gulped. "Evo?"
Evo looked ill. "Can we discuss this later, please?"
Fred narrowed her eyes and leaned closer to Armand. "No," she said slowly. "I think I want to talk about Armand now."
I thought I had better say something to my big mouthed sister. "Uh, just drop it, Fred. Maybe he's shy."
Evo gave me a grateful look and said, "Uh, yes. Let's talk about our plans once we get downtown."
Fred moved even closer to Armand. "Are you really shy, Armand? Or do you just not want to be the one who tells us you are a cop?"
"A cop," Sam squeaked.
I sighed and agreed. "A cop. A Fed, I'd bet. CIA?"
Armand winced and then sighed. "ATF," and then, "Damn."
Fred's eyes widened and quickly narrowed. "What is Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms doing down here? And why are you driving us around in a Limo?"
I butted in. "If he told us he'd have to kill us. Right, Armand?"
"Uh, yeah. Right."
Fred persisted. She inched toward Armand and he began to squirm in earnest. I reached through the divider and grabbed Fred by the hair. I gave it a good yank and was rewarded with a loud screech and her full attention being diverted to the back seat.
I got in her face and said through clenched teeth, "Shut up, Fred, and leave him alone. Evo and Armand will tell us what is going on in good time." She opened her mouth and I held up a hand. "Eh." She stopped. "If you want to stay in this limo, if you want to continue on with the grownups, you will cease and desist right now. Do you understand?"
She lowered her head, but I could still see the green smoke coming out of her ears. "Okay," she mumbled, and flopped back on her side of the car. I saw Armand wipe sweat off his forehead and chuckled to myself. Poor Armand, little Fred is a lethal weapon when she turns on the charm and starts pumping for information.
Armand drove up to the main entrance of Evo's building and wove his way around the police and emergency vehicles. He stopped as close as he could to the front doors and let us out. The security guard on the door recognized Evo and with some pretty slick fast talk, we headed up to his office.
We exited the elevator and had to step around a garbage can. An officer rushed up and Evo had to do the song-and-dance-routine once again to get us down the hall. The door to Evo's office hung by one hinge, and the hallway was littered with papers and bits of wood and plastic. Evo stepped up to a man taking photos and introduced himself. A South American version of Colombo, complete with wrinkled trench coat and cigar (sans the Peter Faulk squint), stepped in front of him.
Running short on sleep and even shorter on temper, Evo barked, "What is it now?" as he tried to see around the cop.
The policeman raised a brow and slowly took the cigar from his mouth. In English he said, "You, Dr. Castillo?"
"Yes. Please, I need to get to my office."
"One moment, Dr. Castillo." He eyed us around the cigar smoke, and held up a badge. I am Inspector Vargas. "Were you aware of anyone in the building earlier this evening, maintenance workers, office personnel, anyone?"
"No, I just flew in from the States. You can check with the airport."
"Yes, I already did. I take it these are your traveling companions."
"Yes. What is this about? Was someone hurt or something?"
"As a matter of fact, two people were killed in a blast in which your office was virtually destroyed. Step over here with me please."
Evo moved to follow the policeman and we all took a step forward. Vargas halted and held up a hand. "Dr. Castillo only, if you please." We all backed up as one and stood against the wall.
"Someone died I'll bet," Fred whispered.
"Duh," I said.
Just then Evo's voice choked out, "Sam, It's Elena." Sam shoved her way past the many bodies blocking her way and hurried to Evo's side.
She grabbed his arm and he turned to gather her close. We followed in Sam's wake, and moved like a battering ram to where the two of them stood gazing down at a gurney. Peeking around Evo, I could see a sheet drawn back and the mutilated body of a dark haired woman lying beneath.
At Fred's indrawn breath, I shoved her behind me and said, "If you're going to be sick, get the hell out of here."
I could hear her swallow several times. "No, no, I'm okay. Sam may need me. It's just a shock, that's all. This body doesn't look as bad as Carol Graff did when we pulled her out from under Mom's house a couple of months ago, and I promise not to trip and fall on top of this one, okay?"
I almost smiled when I remembered how Fred and Al fell on top of a dead body in Mom's back yard, making everyone including the dogs gag.
Turning my attention back to the present, I asked Evo, "Who is Elena?"
Sam answered, "Evo's secretary. I know her mother. Nice woman."
Stepping closer, I asked the cop, "Does it look like she died in the blast, or has any determination of that nature been established?"
Vargas sent me a shrewd glance and asked, "Law enforcement?"
"Retired."
"Step over here, I would like to show you something."
We walked to where the door hung off the hinges. "The evidence has been collected and the pictures taken, but if you would like to walk through with me, I would consider it a favor."
"Of course," I said. Duh. Like I'm going to pass an opportunity like this up?
I looked around and tagged the EMS worker for some plastic gloves. I pulled out my camera phone to take some general pictures we could look at later. I immediately saw the origin of the blast, and as I suspected, Evo's safe had been blasted. The lingering odor and the way the door was blown off the safe had me asking, "C-4, remote detonator?"
"You're good."
"Pretty obvious. That was a big blast for such a small safe. They either wanted to make sure destruction of the office was complete, or they weren't as professional as we first thought." I moved to the desk. The overturned chair lay off to the right. I looked at the bottom and examined the armrests. I went to pick it up and asked Vargas, "May I?"
"Of course, we are through here."
I turned the chair over and pulled the leather seat away from the armrest. "Inspector?"
Vargas leaned over my back.
"Do you see here where the armrest meets the seat? It seems there are fibers here that have no connection to the leather or the metal. I think they're rope fibers. Your medical examiner can tell us if Elena had rope burns on her wrists or not." I knew damn well the fibers were rope. They'd be finding a murder victim instead of an accidental death in Elena.
Vargas stared at the remnants of the burned rope. Still bent over, he calmly spoke into his radio. In a matter of seconds, a tech showed up with tweezers and a glass vial. He plucked the fibers from the chair and deposited them into the vial. Vargas stepped forward and whispered in his ear. The tech was shaking in his boots by the time Vargas finished reading him the riot act. He glanced up at me on his way out of the room and said something I didn't understand. As he p
assed through the office door, he ran into a brick wall. I watched as his feet lifted off the floor and he floated backward into the room on the end of Evo's arm; his scrawny neck stuck in Evo's large hand.
"I think you have something to say to the lady."
The tech choked. "I say nothing. He spit on the floor. "Vargas, call him off!"
Vargas lifted an eyebrow. He sucked on his stogie and let the smoke out slowly. As he contemplated the burning end of his cigar, he said quietly, "I think perhaps not. One, you owe this esteemed lady an apology for degrading her because she knows your job better than you do, and you owe her a thank you for maybe saving this investigation. Two, I haven't decided whether to let Dr. Castillo choke you before I fire you, or vice-versa."
The tech gasped, and his eyes bugged out of his head. Vargas rolled the cigar between his fingers and tapped the ash into an empty garbage can. The tech wheezed and began to turn blue, and I thought I'd better say something quick before we had another body. "Hey, Evo, you'd better put him down because he doesn't look too good. Besides, where are we going to hide the body if you kill him?"
At that, both Evo and Vargas laughed and Evo dropped the tech and watched as he collapsed in a heap. The tech gasped, choked, and did the tuna flop on the floor. His arms flew out to the side, and Evo stood on his palm so he couldn't slither out of reach.
The tech made a sorry sight and swallowed hard. "I sorry, American lady, so sorry. I did not know you a police woman and I am stupido."
"That's alright, young man, thank you," I said before anyone did him more bodily harm. "Let him up, Evo. We have bigger fish to fry. Inspector Vargas, thank you so much for allowing us into your crime scene." I all but yanked Evo out of the room and back into the hall.
I hustled him past Sam and Fred and began to pull off the latex gloves. "Let's get out of here, I've seen enough–oh, crap." I suddenly put on the brakes. Fred and Sam ran into me. I stumbled forward and because my head was down, I ran into a wall. Feeling a little woozy, I backed away and searched for what stopped me. Ah, there it is. With the gloved hand I picked up what appeared to be a severed finger. Turning the glove inside-out when I took it off, I tucked it into the tech's hand whispering, "The other person in the room. Elena had all her fingers. This one probably belonged to the bomber."
I turned back toward my sister and friends and said, "Let's get out of here."
We turned tail and bolted.
23
After leaving Evo's office, Armand took us straight to the airport. Our bags were already loaded and we took off for Venezuela. A Land Rover awaited us at the other end, and we loaded our gear. There were several places to stay, and I registered as a vacationer in Cumanná at a large chain hotel. We'd caught about two hours of sleep before my phone rang for a wake-up call. Evo was already up and had bags full of food-like substances when I dragged my jet-lagged butt down the stairs.
Fred laughed when she saw me. "How can you be jet-lagged when we went from Lima to Venezuela?"
"Shut up, Fred. Give me coffee."
Fred snickered and said in a stage whisper, "Rule Number One, never try to converse with Buzz before morning coffee." After Sam and Evo gave her an odd look, Fred said behind her hand, "She has a drinking problem and an addiction."
Okay, I admit it; I might have been a little cranky from lack of sleep, food deprivation, lack of caffeine, and respect at this point, but I was not about to take crap from Suzie Snowflake over there. She stood between me and my first cup of coffee, and I wanted to say, "Feel lucky, punk?" before I shot her.
I bulldozed my way right through Fred's smirking countenance, looking like Mike Singletary going for the opposing quarterback unabated. I grabbed a cup of thick steaming coffee out of Evo's hand and plopped down in a lounger to savor the moment. "Ahh, Heaven," I said and sighed. The aroma alone would have knocked your socks off.
When I came up for air, I stared at the group who stared at me. With my nose arrogantly pointed skyward, I held up my cup. "My drinking habit is coffee, and my drug of choice is caffeine."
The looks on Evo and Sam's faces were priceless as they sagged in relief, and Fred grabbed her middle and laughed like a fool. "Bozo," I said into my cup as I sucked down more life-blood.
Funny how I needed only one cup to feel human again, but back home I'd have already been through a half-a-pot. I stood and refilled my cup. Turning to my two amigos (plus Bozo the Sister), I cleared my throat. "Is the tour bus ready?"
Armand joined us wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a Red Sox ball cap, flowered shorts, and Roman sandals. "Jungle tour, this way." He pointed to the Land Rover parked outside the entrance, sporting an Armand's Jungle Tours magnetic sign on the door.
I patted my cargo pocket to make sure I still had my bug spray and climbed in beside Armand. He looked a little disappointed and I patted his arm. "We decided that Fred has to sit in the back this time. We don't want you to drive off a mountain or anything."
"Oh yeah," he said. "Uh, probably a good idea." Turning a deep shade of red, Armand kicked the SUV into gear and it gave us all whiplash as he tore away from the curb.
We decided we would begin at Site 151, and work our way up the mountain. The gates were locked, but Evo's master key got us in. There was a filthy Jeep parked by Ron Hansen's office, and Armand pulled quietly up to the other side of the building. We all got out and I eyeballed Sam and Fred. "You stay."
"No way!"
"I'm coming, too!"
"Shut up, both of you, and listen. Fred, you get behind the wheel in case we have to get out of here fast. Sam, you face backward so you can watch her back. I have a feeling this might not go as smoothly as we had hoped."
"Oh, oh, I get it. You have one of your feelings, Buzz. I am not moving a muscle, and neither are you, Sam."
Evo raised a brow. "That went better than expected."
Fred had a grip on the wheel and a hand on the key. "Never blow off any feeling Buzz gets. If she has a feeling something bad is going to happen, watch your butt because it is definitely going to happen. Remember fire ant city? Be careful, you guys."
Armand came around the back of the SUV. "Here," he said as he shoved a 9mm into my hand.
I checked the clip and turned to see him give an AK47 to Evo. I looked at my hand gun and decided it was a good time to whine. "How come Evo gets a cool gun and I get a pea shooter?"
Evo ruffled my hair and my eyes stung thinking about J.J. "Because I'm trained in warfare and you're an ex-cop."
"Oh." I looked at my weapon and sighed. Damn, I hate it when they're right. I chucked a shell into the chamber and nodded. Armand led point, then me, and Evo brought up the rear as we approached the foreman's office. By silent agreement, we entered through the back door, hoping to avoid a shoot-out as well as scare the crap out of whoever was in there into running away without trying to kill us.
Armand halted and reached for the door knob. It turned, and Armand signaled that it was open. My feeling of uneasiness increased as the door opened and Armand snuck a peek low and around the corner. He signaled with a nod and I came in high. Evo brought up the rear, crouched and facing backward. When Armand stopped I touched Evo's belt. He stopped, but kept an eye on the back door. We were in a kitchenette which subbed as a sleeping area. It held a small fridge, a stove, a cot, and a sink. Cabinets without doors lined one wall, and a miniscule bathroom next to Evo. I suddenly had the urge to go–bad.
"Must have been all that coffee," I mumbled to myself.
"Why, do you have to pee?" Great timing detective," Evo whispered. "Didn't your mama teach you to go before you went out to play?"
"You picked a fine time to become a comedian."
"Shh," Armand said.
Then we heard it. A soft scraping against the wood floors from the other room. A shadow crossed the doorway in front of us and Armand moved like a whisper on the wind. He took one side of the doorway and Evo and I had the other. Armand pointed in the direction he looked and held up his index finger. In the direc
tion Evo and I were facing no one visible, so I held up a fist.
Armand whipped around the corner and yelled, "ATF! Drop to the floor!"
Evo and I came around the corner just in time to watch a white guy in a pith helmet dive through a front window. Armand rushed to the window in time to see the guy jump into a running vehicle. He peeled off a few hundred rounds from his assault rifle in our direction as the car sped away.
Armand turned to us and said, "Well, that was a useless endeavor. Let's see if he left anything worthwhile." We began to look around the ransacked office.
Evo took the kitchen and I took the desk. Opening each drawer and glancing over company paperwork didn't shed any light on who the guys were and what they were doing here. From the looks of the office, they trashed it in search of something. We could only hope they didn't find it. I flopped in Ron Hansen's chair and looked around. I rested my hands on the backs of the arm rests and they suddenly flew forward. I ran my fingers underneath and found an indentation. Sliding it forward, the bottom of the right armrest shot forward to reveal a compartment. In it, a folded paper popped up and in a sing-song voice I chirped, "Look-ee what I found."
The sweet feeling of discovery suffused my body and a little tingle raced up my spine. I pulled plastic gloves from my cargo pants and carefully extracted the papers from the armrest. "Think this might have been what they were after?"
The roar of an engine answered my question as Armand yelled, "Oh crap, they're back. Get out! Go, go, go!"
Bullets riddled the desk and I dove to the floor with a thud. "I think they brought their friends." I checked the magazine on my weapon and risked a peek around the desk. Armand returned fire from a window, but Evo lie on the floor by the bathroom. I felt my blood drain down to my feet as I took in the dark puddle pooling next to his body. "Bloody hell, Armand, Evo's down!"
"Throw me his weapon!" Armand's voice barely carried over the noise of the ricocheting bullets. I watched Lassie enough as a kid, and between that and police training, I knew how to crawl under gunfire.
Using my elbows to inch across the floor, I made it to Evo's side and kicked his weapon toward Armand. He scooped it up in one hand, flipped the strap around his huge forearm, and began firing with both hands. Flipping Evo over I muttered, "Thank God we have Rambo along for the ride."