by L C Hayden
Pedro drummed his fingers on one knee. “I need some time to talk to my men.”
“No, you talk to El Patron.”
Pedro’s eyes widened as though Mike had stabbed him with a thousand needles.
“As I said, partners tell each other everything.” Mike wanted to make sure Pedro got the message. “Tell him I will deal with him and him alone.”
Pedro straightened up as much as he could. “I don’t know who El Patron is.”
Mike let his eyes drop for just a second before he raised them and stared boldly into Pedro’s face. “You really expect me to believe that?”
Pedro cleared his throat. His gaze bounced from the floor to the wall and back down to the floor.
Mike leaned over the desk, closing the gap between them. “You tell El Patron for me that he has my guarantee. No police will ever bother him. He’ll be free to wheel and deal wherever, whenever he wants. If anyone sniffs in his direction, I’ll take care of the situation personally.”
“Like you did with Finch.”
“Like I did with Finch.”
Mike turned and walked away. Halfway out, he stopped and spun around. “Tell El Patron that I’m going back to Dallas. I need to be there when my partner is buried so I can comfort his poor, grieving widow.” Mike narrowed his eyes as he focused his attention on Pedro’s face. “Also tell him that I’ll use that time to gather some information. Then I’ll be back, and I want a guarantee from him that those statuettes are mine.”
4
Throughout the entire Dallas police station, the hatred for the person who had killed Detective Herbert Finch erupted into a burning rage that permeated every inch of space. One by one, the police officers gathered to find out what they could do to bring the animal in. They spoke in angry voices, their lips tight with rage.
The din, so loud and so filled with revenge, hung in the room like stale black smoke.
Just outside the briefing room, Mike stood still, listening to them. He had no choice but to step in and play the role of the bereaved detective. After all, Finch had been his partner and a good friend. Mike had to pretend he, too, was enraged.
He arranged his features in what he hoped looked like sadness intertwined with fury. He took a deep breath and lowered his head just enough to show his sorrow but high enough to let everyone know he was one of them. Together, they would drag Finch’s killer through the sewers while beating him within an inch of his life.
Soon as Mike stepped in, an absolute and oppressive silence hung in the room like dark, threatening clouds.
Mike walked to the front and flopped down on the seat. He placed his elbows on the table in front of him and covered his face with his hands.
Officer Nancy Grillett sat next to him. A few awkward seconds passed before she patted his shoulder. “So sorry, Mike. I guarantee we’ll get whoever did this.”
Mike nodded. There was nothing like the death of a fellow officer to bring cops together and unite them in a common cause. Hang, shoot, maim the enemy. Mike knew it well.
Chief Rudy Kelley, a man in his indeterminate forties, rapped his knuckles on the podium. His sandy hair had started to thin, but to his credit, he made no attempt to hide the fact. “Everyone settle.”
Some nodded. Others whispered to their partners what they would do when the animal was caught.
The Chief raised his voice. “The sooner we conclude the meeting, the sooner we can be out in the streets searching for this killer.”
Instantly, the noise level dropped as if someone had turned the volume on the radio way down.
“I’ll begin with a prayer for Finch, his wife, and their son. Anyone not comfortable with that can do a moment of silence.” He lowered his head, and Mike could have sworn he saw tears pearl in the corner of the Chief’s eyes. That puzzled him.
After a brief pause, the Chief wiped his eyes. “May he rest in peace.”
A few murmured amens filled the room.
Chief Kelley waited until silence once again filled the room. Then in an authoritative voice, he said, “Now, let’s focus on catching Finch’s killer. He was killed on the outskirts of Hobbs, New Mexico, so Hobbs Police Department has jurisdiction. But all of Herbert’s ties are back here in Dallas. We will keep our line of communications open with the Hobbs PD. But whatever we do, we’re going to follow proper police procedure. There will be no vigilantes, and no matter how much you’re tempted to, you will not accidentally rough up our suspect. I repeat, we will follow proper police procedure. That is Rule Number One. Rule Number Two is to follow Rule Number One. Is that clear? So let’s see what we can find.
A few officers, including Mike, grumbled an understood.
“Good,” the Chief said. “Officer Thomas has a list of your assignments. Turn every leaf, and if there are none to be found, shake the trees until they fall off. Is that clear?”
The room vibrated with the loud “Yes, sir” answers.
Chief Kelley stepped aside, allowing Josie to step up to the podium. Before leaving, he looked over his shoulder and said, “Mike, in my office. Now.”
Mike bolted to his feet and followed the Chief.
5
Mike’s expression didn’t change, but he eyed each of the individuals sitting in the Chief’s office. Detective Dave De La Rosa and his partner, Susan Epp, sat directly across from the Chief’s desk. It always amused Mike to see these two together. Dave always chose to wear fancy suits while Susan’s wardrobe consisted mostly of jeans and a T-shirt.
To their left, Officer Gene Buckanan waved at Mike as he entered the room. Mike acknowledged each with a nod.
“Sit.” Chief Kelley pointed to the empty seat reserved for Mike. The Chief walked around his desk and sat down. “I realize this is unusual, but I’ve worked out a deal with the Hobbs Chief of Police. As some of you might know, Chief Reba Schemmel and I have a special working relationship that we’ve developed throughout the years.”
Each of the room’s occupants eyed each other, but all remained quiet.
“All four of you will be temporarily reassigned to Hobbs PD where you will assist with the investigation. Notice the emphasis on assist. None of you will follow any leads on your own. You will report to Chief Schemmel as soon as you arrive. From there, you will follow Schemmel’s suggestions to the T. Is that clear?”
Susan’s eyebrows came together in a frown. She crossed her legs and then uncrossed them. “I need to make arrangements with my family. How long are we going to be working in Hobbs?”
The Chief’s eyes narrowed. “Long enough to do the job.” His curt answer was met with silence. He took a deep breath. “Sorry. Finch’s death has stretched me to the limits.” He leaned back and raised his head as though fighting some internal battle. “Susan, is this going to cause any problems with your family?”
Susan sat up straighter. “No, sir. We’ll figure something out.”
The chief nodded. “You do that.”
The quiet that followed forced Mike to take the lead. “Chief, why don’t you just tell us what you want to say?”
Chief Kelley stood up and rested his palms on top of his desk. “I don’t like giving up control.”
“Everyone in the department knows you’re a control freak.” Dave slapped a hand over his mouth and turned red.
Susan snickered.
The chief blinked fast, but he otherwise ignored the comment. “Here’s the truth. All of the details concerning this case will be between Chief Schemmel and the deputy chief. I want—I need—to be kept current with the investigation. I want to know exactly what is being done. As your chief and as a personal friend of Herbert, I want to make sure that this criminal—more than any other—will be brought to justice. If I leave it all to the Hobbs police, I will lose that control. The four of you will keep me up to date on the latest developments. Do any of you have a problem with that?”
“No problem here,” Gene said. “I am deeply honored that you chose me to go to Hobbs. But truthfully, I’m confused. Why
me? I’m just an officer.”
“Because you’re Mike’s new partner.”
Mike and Gene eyed each other through wide-open eyes. Gene broke the silence. “You’re pairing me, an officer, with a seasoned detective?”
Chief Kelley opened his drawer and retrieved some papers. He made it a point of studying them. “You just recently took your detective test.”
Gene cleared his throat and nodded.
“Your test scores are better than anyone else’s.”
Gene’s face lit up.
“In fact,” the chief continued, “they show that you have a lot of potential. I want to see you move up in the ranks. As of this moment, you’re a detective. Any problems with that?”
“No, none at all.” Gene was all smiles. “But Mike might object.”
Mike patted his new partner’s shoulder. “I’d be honored to work with you, but seeing how I can’t keep my partners, are you sure you want to partner with me?”
“I would be honored.” Mike and Gene shook hands.
The Chief turned his attention to Dave. “How fluent is your Spanish?”
Dave looked at the brown skin in his arms and curled a smile. “You’re assuming that because my last name is De La Rosa, I can speak Spanish.”
“No. I’m assuming that because your file says you speak Spanish.”
Dave leaned back. “My Spanish wouldn’t win me any awards, but I can understand it and get my points across.”
“Good. That’s one reason why I chose you.”
“And the other one?”
“You’re dedicated and one of my best detectives. I know you’ll put all of your energy into solving this case.”
“I thought you said we weren’t there to solve the case,” Susan said. “We’re there only to assist.”
“You are correct, Detective Epp. But even though I said you’re there to assist only, that doesn’t mean you can’t discreetly work on your own.”
“How would Chief Schemmel feel about that?” Susan asked.
“Did you hear me say discreetly?”
All four nodded.
“Good. That settles it. Now, let’s talk about theories. Who wants to begin?”
Mike sat up straighter. “I’ll begin. Finch was my partner, and we told each other everything.” He shrugged. “Or so I thought.” He massaged the bridge of his nose. “If I’d known he planned to go there alone, I would’ve never let him go and least of all, not by himself.”
The Chief frowned. “What you’re saying is that you have no idea who he was meeting or why.”
Mike rapped his fingers on his knee, and then mentally slapped himself. Someone might read something into that simple action. He crossed his arms and nodded. “That is correct.”
Chief Kelley leaned forward. “I’m thinking that his death is related to a case both of you were working on.”
“Precisely my line of thinking. But no matter how much I wrack my brain, nothing comes to mind. I don’t know what possessed him to drive to Hobbs.” Mike leaned back on his chair and rubbed his eyes. “I just thought of something. Maybe someone was in the car with him, and that person led him to Hobbs and killed him.”
Dave shook his head. “I have to disagree with you, Mike. All evidence points to the fact that he was alone, which means he was there for a particular reason. We find out why, we might find the monster.”
“What evidence? Do we really know he was alone?” Mike stared at Dave as though he had grown an extra head. “He could have been forced to drive against his will.”
“Why do you insist that there was a passenger?” Dave glared at Mike with an intensity that left Mike feeling cold. “Do you know something you’re not sharing with us?”
Mike squirmed in his seat. “No, I don’t. It’s just that …” He looked away. “If someone was with him forcing him to drive him to Hobbs, then I could have done something about it. And I didn’t. I failed him.”
Susan rubbed Mike’s upper arm. “There’s no way you could have known something was wrong. You can’t blame yourself.”
Mike lowered his head and covered his face with his hand. He waited a few seconds for the right effect. “Maybe. Maybe not. It’s just that I feel so bad that I wasn’t there for Herbert. I was his partner. I was supposed to protect him.” His hands formed fists. “I want to find this … this …” He closed his eyes as though fighting tears.
“I understand,” Chief Kelley said. “That’s why I assigned you four to Hobbs. If we work together with the New Mexico police, I think we can close this case really fast.” The chief stood. “That settles it. I’m sure you all want to attend Finch’s memorial, which begins—” He looked at his watch, “in less than an hour, so I’ll release you. Have a good night’s rest and first thing tomorrow morning, leave. Dave, stay here so I can give you all of the credentials to take to Chief Schemmel.”
6
Shiiit!—as Bronson would say.
Remembering how Bronson always said this when something went wrong made Mike smile. He wished, not for the first time, he could reach out to Bronson. They’d talk things out and find a solution.
But that was impossible. This time, there would be no Bronson to rely on. Mike was alone on this.
Mike pushed the thought aside and concentrated on his driving. Soon, he’d be at Adela’s. He needed to focus on that.
Unable to do so, Mike’s mind wandered to what it would be like to be stationed in Hobbs. He liked that idea. It would definitely serve its purpose. But what he didn’t like was being stuck with three others. True, they were good people who would dedicate themselves to the cause, and that’s what created the problem.
He needed to work alone, secretly. How could he accomplish his goals with three others hovering over him? No, that wouldn’t work. He’d have to find a way to get rid of them.
The car behind him honked, startling him. Mike had been concentrating on the current dilemma, and not on the road. He’d failed to notice that the light had turned green. He waved an apology to the driver of the car behind him and sped off.
Ten minutes later, he still hadn’t come up with a satisfactory plan. Again, he wished Bronson was there.
He took a left and noticed an unusual number of cars parked by Finch’s house. The same ones he saw every day at the police station’s parking lot.
Poor Adela. She didn’t need to be burdened with all of these visitors, but how could she send them away when all they wanted was to show her their support?
Mike worked his way up to the door and knocked. He had no idea why he had chosen to do that rather than ring the doorbell like any normal human being. Officer Nancy Grillett let him in.
Mike spotted Adela. He found her sitting among a sea of well-wishers, all whispering gentle things to her. Things she didn’t seem to hear. She sat unmoving, her face frozen in an expression of dread.
Adela looked up and noticed Mike standing by the door. She ran to him and threw her arms around him. “M-mike.” Her sobs wrenched her body as if a hand had reached down and grabbed her insides and ripped them apart.
Mike’s eyes searched Adela’s face. His mind shouted the unasked question, Why don’t you know? He wanted to assure her. If he could, he’d whisper the words of comfort she so much deserved to hear, but in the end, all he could think of saying was “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He had screwed up. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and looked around.
Huge, unblinking eyes followed his every move. Mike recognized the look in his fellow officers’ faces. Pain intertwined with rage, as though these raw emotions had walked across their faces and stomped out the light in their eyes. He backed off. Now was not the time to whisper those words of comfort.
Adele took a deep, shuddery breath. “I’m … I’m hav-ing his … his body flown to Michigan … for a family only funeral.” Mike looked deeply into Adela’s face. The perky woman he had often admired had been replaced by a wild-looking imitation. Her long reddish-brown hair was all over the place, and her face
screwed up tight. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her body shook with each sob.
She knows! Mike tried to read her face, but all he encountered was a deep sadness.
“You understand, don’t you? This …” She swept her arm indicating her surroundings. “This is his police and local funeral. This is how he would have wanted it.” Her eyes were sunken and her cheeks sagged. “Please, please tell me you understand.” Tears leaked from her eyes.
Mike understood all right. He drew her in his arms and hugged her tightly.
7
Mike’s phone buzzed. He stretched out his hand and fumbled for the phone. As he did, his vision landed on the motel’s alarm clock. Already past nine in the morning. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, but there was nothing he could do about that. He had to get moving.
He read the text message his new partner, Gene, sent him. We’re at your house. All ready to head to Hobbs. Where are you?
Mike bolted to his feet. Dang! He was almost out of time. True, he still had about four hours before they arrived, but he needed every single second to establish himself as a strong leader of the Los Muertos gang. One way or the other, he would have to get his hands on Cleopatra’s two god figurines. Five million dollars—amazing.
Mike answered the text. After we all left Adela, I felt really bad for her. I went back to her place. Not quite the truth, but they could never prove otherwise. If they went to her house, they would find an empty shell. Adela and her son would have already left for their 5:00 AM flight to Michigan.
By telling this white lie, Mike could buy a few precious minutes that he’d spend getting ready to go. He pushed the sent button.
The answer came almost immediately. You’re at Adele’s???