Avengers of Blood

by Gae-Lynn Woods

  “After you?”

  Joseph snapped his head up and glared at Emmet. “I’ve been through Moses’ files at the station. There’s only one guy who even hinted that he wanted to kill Moses – some tweaker. But the Detectives have pretty much cleared him.” He drew a deep breath. “There’s one job I got a down payment on, but didn’t finish. Maybe someone with links to that customer has come after me, and killed Momma and Moses by mistake.”

  “Why wouldn’t that customer come after you himself?”

  “He’s in prison in New York.”

  Emmet was silent for a moment. “Have they figured out whether the same gun killed your family and Donna?”

  Joseph nodded.

  “Then what’s the link between your dissatisfied customer and Donna?”

  “I don’t know. But I think she was laundering money.”

  “No way, man.” Emmet waved him off and grabbed another slice of pizza. “Donna’s the straightest arrow to fly the friendly skies.”

  “She had a safe full of cash at home. A hundred and twenty thousand. That ain’t rainy day money.”

  “Nope, it’s not. Donna is, or was, terrified of being caught without. She thought the financial system might collapse and wanted to make sure she had enough negotiables to get through. They’ll find more cash and some gold bars in her safe deposit box.” He leaned into the headboard. “This isn’t about you.”

  “Then maybe it’s about this.” Joseph yanked Moses’ wallet from his hip pocket and pulled the pack of business cards out, shuffling through them until he found the photograph of Moses and Donna.

  Emmet took the picture. His smile was soft, almost tender. He looked up at Joseph. “What about it?”

  “You knew about this?”

  “That Donna and Moses knew each other? Yeah. So what?”

  Joseph’s jaw dropped. “Moses was messing with a white woman, Emmet. Could that be what got them killed?”

  “Come full circle, man. If Moses and Donna had a thing, why would the same person try to kill me, too?”

  Joseph tucked his chin in. “Were you with her?”

  Emmet actually chuckled. “No, and neither was Moses.”

  “Then what’s that picture about?”

  “They were friends. We were all friends.”

  “Then why didn’t Moses ever mention her? I’d never heard the woman’s name until today.”

  Emmet’s reply was slow in coming. “We weren’t the kind of friends that talk about each other.”

  Joseph opened his mouth to reply, then jumped to his feet and paced the narrow length of the motel room, unconsciously ducking beneath the hanging light fixture. “Who would have a reason to kill all y’all? What could the three of you have done to get you murdered by the same person?”

  Emmet ate a bite of pizza and chewed. “I can’t do it,” he said softly, almost to himself.

  “Can’t do what?”

  “Tell you.”

  Joseph stopped mid-stride. “Why not?”

  “Moses wanted to keep you out of it.”

  “Out of what?”

  The sound of tires crunching on gravel came from the parking lot. Emmet’s eyes widened. He eased from the bed and swayed for a moment, then moved to the window and pulled the curtain back a fraction.

  “What?” Joseph asked.

  “That’s twice the same pickup has come by. Get my stuff.”

  “Who is it?”

  “I don’t know, but that’s the only car that’s come this way twice today. I don’t know how he followed me, I was watching. Get my stuff,” he said again.

  “What stuff?”

  “Everything. Clothes, medical supplies, dirty towels. Pack it up. We’re getting out of here.”

  Joseph hurried to the bathroom. “Everything?”

  “If it has my blood on it, yes.”

  Joseph scooped up soiled towels, gauze, and tissues and stuffed them in the trash can liner. A pop sounded from outside and Emmet ducked. Joseph stared at him, open-mouthed. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Get down! That’s a gun, man.”

  Joseph strode to the window and nudged the curtain aside. “There’s nobody out there. It was just a backfire.”

  “That was a shot from a weapon, Joseph. Mark my words.” Emmet crawled up onto the bed and paused, breathing deeply.

  His duffel bag was open beside him and Joseph tossed the full trash can liner inside it, stopping short at the sight of a gun and several loaded magazines. “Looks like you’re ready for a war.”

  “Damn right. I’m ready to kill whoever murdered your family and Donna, and who wants to kill me.” Emmet glared at Joseph. “You better make a decision, man. If you want to know the truth, then you’re in this to help me find him. I’ll kill him, you don’t have to do that. But if you don’t want in, tell them who you really are and get some protection.”

  Joseph took a step back at Emmet’s tone, then tossed the unused medical supplies into the kit and closed it. Emmet grabbed it from him. Joseph heard the rip of a zipper and stared in amazement at the wad of cash Emmet withdrew from the depths of the bag. He tossed the cash into the duffel and struggled to close the kit, then put the top down on the pizza box and grabbed the sodas.

  “Where’d that come from?” Joseph asked, his face incredulous. “That must be a few thousand dollars.”

  “Five thousand,” Emmet said. “Donna made sure we kept a stash, in case something like this happened. Moses should have cash in an old shoe box in the top of his closet, in case you need any.” He opened the door a crack and peeked outside. Emmet’s truck was listing to starboard. “What’d I tell you?”

  Joseph knelt to examine the flat tire, and then looked up. “I’m in.”

  “You sure about that?” Joseph nodded and Emmet checked both ends of the parking lot, and then released a long breath toward the starlit sky. “You’ll have to change it.”

  When the spare was on, Joseph stood and brushed the grime from his clothes. “We’re not done with this,” he told Emmet.

  “Not tonight. I’ve got to change hotels.”

  “When Emmet? I have to know what’s going on.”

  His friend, freckles receding to their normal degree of prominence against his caramel-colored skin, spoke evenly. “If you’re gonna be Moses, I suppose you do. But brace yourself. I’ll tell you things about your family you might not want to hear.” Joseph started to speak but Emmet stopped him. “Get all the information from the police that you can about the murders. It’ll help. I’ll call you. Until then, keep your ass low, Joseph. Very low. And learn to use the gun. Or you will get killed.”

  CHAPTER 61

  CASS SAT ON A park bench sheltered beneath the sprawling arms of a live oak tree, sipping coffee from The Golden Gate Café and sweating in the evening heat. Although her body was still, her mind was busy filtering through the last twenty-four hours. Kado had called as she was on her way to Live Oak Park to confirm that the slug in Hedder’s bedroom wall was a .308. His voice was rough with a mix of exhaustion and frustration, and Cass stayed silent in spite of wanting to ask him to meet her after she and Maxine were done. He told her he was going home to bed, but would be in first thing Friday morning to try and match the slug to those taken from the Franklin and Moore homes. Even without the comparison, Cass was confident of the outcome. The same shooter was after Hedder. She struggled to find angles that could feasibly connect the shootings, but the possible links between a retired school lunch lady, a cop, an accountant, and a registered nurse were limited.

  And then there was Calvin Whitehead. The person or people who had murdered him had simply disappeared, leaving no trace. Crime scene photos showed a crucifix hanging on the wall behind Whitehead’s register, and she wondered if it was worth talking to his priest. The details of a confession were sacred, Cass knew, even after a person died. But the priest might be inclined to talk if he understood the horrific manner of Whitehead’s death.

  Her mind continued its journey
through the anomalies of the day and landed on Maxine Wright Leverman. Mitch was right; she and Maxine had been inseparable through their school years. They shared secrets, dreams, crushes, and a commitment at graduation never to drift apart. And they hadn’t. Not until Cass was raped. Her friendship with Maxine was one of the many victims of Cass’s withdrawal after the attack. Maxine wasn’t the problem with the relationship; the issue was Cass. Specifically, her inability to talk to anyone about the violence, the violation she experienced.

  Cass caught movement from the corner of her eye, drawing her back from the painful past to her spot on the bench. Sipping the coffee, she watched as Maxine’s form glided in and out of the glowing fish bowls created by the street lights. Her head swiveled to take in the area around Cass as she pedaled up. Her bike was one of the fancy trail models and she wore a pair of baggy shorts and a billowing white linen top. The woman’s arms and legs were as thin as any runway model’s. Only her breasts were out of place. Those were a new addition since Cass had last seen Maxine, and they definitely didn’t belong to a woman this skinny. Cass wondered if Maxine was anorexic or bulimic. If neither, she was starving herself to death.

  Maxine leaned the bike against a tree and sat next to Cass, pulling the top from her extra large coffee and adding five cartons of cream and five packages of sugar. She stirred vigorously, balanced her elbows on her knees, and started to sip. Cass watched her, noticing the fine lines around Maxine’s eyes and those stretching from her nose to the corners of her mouth. Her hair, once long and the blue-black of a raven’s wing, was now short and swept back from her face in a headband, absent the silkiness she prized as a teenager. Maxine was no older than Cass, only in her mid-twenties, but she looked more like a woman approaching forty. Traces of the old Maxine were still evident in the tilt of her head, the lift of her chin, and the way she wrapped her hands around the coffee cup as if she couldn’t pull enough warmth into her body.

  “So. I’ve got my tongue –” Cass said, offering the beginnings of a line from their favorite comedian in high school, Andrew Dice Clay.

  Maxine giggled and bumped Cass with her shoulder. “I’ve kept up with you, you know.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. The cult. That whole shooting mess. How did it feel?”

  And there they were, right back to the same old Maxine and Cass. Ask any question and expect an honest answer. “Not good,” Cass admitted. “I didn’t want to shoot, and I hope I don’t have to again. But, I would if I had to.”

  “I’m glad you can do it,” Maxine said. “You know. Kill somebody.”

  Cass snorted. “Is your brother stealing your panties and selling them to the football team again?”

  “If he was back to his panty tricks, I’d kill him myself.” Maxine looked around Live Oak Park, turning to check the shadows at their backs, seeming to take little comfort from the tree’s protective embrace and the absence of people. “No,” she said, her voice low. “I want you to find the man who raped me. I want you to find him, and kill him.”

  CHAPTER 62

  THE SHOOTER PULLED INTO a grocery store parking lot and studied the GPS tracking program on his cell phone. The vehicles had left the motel and were headed in opposite directions. Moses Franklin was going home to Arcadia; Emmet Hedder was driving south, deeper into Watuga County. He’d fired that single shot at Hedder’s tire on impulse, and was glad he had. A little terror went a long way and led to mistakes. All to the good.

  The shooter closed his cell phone and adjusted the rearview mirror. Grimacing, he scrubbed a finger across his mouth to remove the last traces of Junie’s lipstick. Women were high maintenance, but she was worth the effort thanks to the intelligence she collected from that buffoon of a police officer. He checked his reflection again and, satisfied, pushed open the pickup’s door and headed to the grocery store to pick up milk.

  CHAPTER 63

  THE HANDGUN’S RETORT WAS muted by the ear mufflers. Joseph lifted them from his head and watched as the man-shaped target whizzed nearer. Martinez unclipped the paper and whistled. “Not bad, amigo. I must be an amazing shooting instructor.”

  As directed, Joseph had emptied a fifteen round clip into the target as fast as he could, aiming first at the head, then the chest, and finally at the figure’s midsection. He swiped at the sweat streaming down his neck. “This is better?”

  Martinez nodded. “It’s certainly better than usual, particularly the cluster in the head. What are you doing different tonight?”

  Joseph yawned. He’d never even held a gun, much less shot one. And he’d never seen Moses fire his weapon. “Just following your instructions. Maybe I’m so tired I’m not over-thinking it.”

  “After what you’ve been through in the last twenty-four hours, I’m surprised you’re still standing.” Martinez checked his watch. “It’s nine o’clock. Three more clips, then I have to get back. And we need to schedule my computer lesson. But keep it quiet, okay? I don’t want my kids to know.”

  “Why not?” Joseph asked, thumbing rounds into the magazine. He’d picked up the procedure after watching Martinez load his own weapon.

  “They think I’m too old to learn.” He nodded. “But a tablet computer can’t be all that different from a stone tablet, right?”

  Joseph managed a tired smile. “Thanks for this. I know it’s not convenient, what with the kids’ homework to get done.”

  “Don’t worry about it. This’ll force the older kids to help the younger ones. And you’re doing so well, I’m glad we came.” He clipped a new target to the wire and ran it out, then settled the muffs over his ears. “Again, Mojo, let’s see what you can do.”

  Joseph slipped on his ear muffs and adjusted his protective glasses, then held the handgun up and sighted. Movement caught his attention, and he turned to see Martinez grinning widely. They pulled their head gear off and Martinez said, “That’s it.”

  “What?”

  “Hold your weapon up, sight on the target.”

  Joseph did.

  “Man, you should’ve asked for a left-handed weapon. Or one with an ambi safety and mag release.” He studied Joseph’s grip. “Go through the motions for me. Don’t fire, just show me how you release the safety and the magazine.” The sweat on his temples ran cold, but Joseph did as instructed. “Muy bueno. You sure you’re not naturally left handed?”

  “Nope. I don’t know why this works better for me.”

  “Well, you’re better off shooting left handed. Put those ear muffs on and let’s finish with this target. I’ll update your personnel file with these results in the morning. You should’ve switched years ago.”

  Joseph felt an odd stab of pride as he slipped the ear protectors back on. He was doing exactly what Emmet had told him to do, better than even Moses could do it. He hoped he’d have a chance to show the former Marine that he was fully committed to their mission. But for now, he pictured the hazy image of their killer and pulled the trigger.

  CHAPTER 64

  CASS FROZE AT THE words, staring out through the branches curving gracefully to the ground. Swallowing, she tried to add a light tone to her words. “I should arrest you for soliciting a murder.”

  “I’m not kidding, Cass.” Maxine’s voice was steady. “Well, maybe a little, about the killing part. But I’m not joking at all about finding the guy who attacked me.”

  A squirrel scampered between two pools of amber light and a tree limb swayed as it landed. The breeze was picking up and Cass found herself shivering in spite of the evening’s heat. She cradled the coffee cup between her hands and steadied her voice. “Tell me what happened. Start from the beginning.”

  “It was after I got divorced. I lived in Ft. Worth and decided to go out one weekend. My friends were married, and most have small kids. So I went to Dallas by myself on Saturday night, to dance and maybe meet a few people.”

  Cass glanced at the woman who had been her closest friend all those years ago. Maxine always loved sex, and as a teenager, hadn
’t been discreet about where she’d found it. Cass wondered if the same were true now.

  As if reading her mind, Maxine looked up and met Cass’s eyes. Her tongue poked out and touched the bruised place on her lip. “No, Cass. I lost my slutty ways not long after I met my husband. They didn’t come back after we divorced.” Her lips twitched. “Well, a girl’s got to have a little fun.”

  “Which club did you go to?”

  Maxine focused on the squirrel as it hopped from branch to branch. “A place on Greenville. It’s not there anymore.”

  “What happened?”

  “I danced a little, had a couple of margaritas.”

  “On the rocks, extra salt?”

  Maxine nodded. “They were watered down, though. Not very good. The dancing, now, that was wild. It was kind of a free for all. Nobody dancing with anybody, everybody dancing with everybody. Know what kind of place I mean?”

  Cass nodded. It sounded disturbingly familiar to the place where her rapist had picked her up.

  “About an hour into the night I sat down at the bar and ordered another drink. And then like an idiot, I turned around to watch the dance floor. A guy sat down next to me, ordered a margarita like mine, and we started talking and watching the dancers.” Her hands twisted in her lap. “He roofied me. He got me on the first drink I had with him, and damn it, I knew better than to let that glass out of my sight. I guess the bartender plunked it down when I turned around and my new friend slipped the Rohypnol, or whatever, right in.” She looked at Cass. “I never had a clue what was happening until the next morning.”

  “Where were you?”

  “In my hotel room.”

  “You rented a room in Dallas?”

  Maxine nodded. “I checked in to the Westin and took a cab to the club. I planned to drink and dance, take a cab back to the hotel, find some great eggs Benedict on Sunday morning, and stagger to Ft. Worth in the afternoon. Easy peasy, mac and cheesy.” Her smile was small. “I was trying to be good.”