Kill the Heroes

by David Thurlo

“You’ll keep us informed if there’s something else we need to know?” Charlie asked.

  “Count on it. Stay safe, I’ve gotta go now.” Nancy ended the call.

  Jake grinned, then looked down at their mugs. “Celebrate the positive news with a refill?”

  Ruth came in fifteen minutes later with a big smile on her face, and a pleasant hug for all of them, especially Charlie. Stepping back from him, her eyebrows furrowed and a frown appeared. “What’s wrong? They caught the killer, didn’t they?”

  Charlie reached out, taking both her hands. “I hope so, Ruth, but we need to wait and see if the evidence is really there. I’d like to believe it’s all over now, but there are still some details that don’t fit.”

  “Crap! And you’re usually right about these things. How about you, Gordon?” she added, turning toward him.

  “These terrorist attacks, or whatever they are, always seem to bring people out of the woodwork and lead to more confrontations. Hatred, racism, accusations, retaliations, and the hardening of both sides. Was the guy they arrested looking to replace the weapon he used to kill Whitaker, to add to the damage caused by the first attacker, or just to defend himself from those who assume he’s their enemy?” Gordon said.

  “So we all have to watch our backs until this is settled, Ruth. You included,” Jake said. “Let’s talk about it over a cup of coffee, or maybe tea?”

  Ruth squeezed Charlie’s hands, then let go with a smile and reached for her mug. “But stay positive, right? How about one of those French roast brews for me? But first, guys, you’ll have to tell me what you were up to yesterday afternoon,” Ruth said, sitting down into the chair Charlie positioned for her beside his own.

  After a few minutes listening to Charlie and Gordon’s description of the events at Nathan’s apartment, Ruth spoke again. “So even if Anna didn’t kill Nathan—who she apparently loved at one time—she’s got secrets. I keep coming back to the fact that she’s been the one handling the money at Back Up, that she’s against changing the system, and that a supposedly very successful operation is in financial trouble. That cash reporting system, to me, is a real red flag, and it’s obvious that this would be the easiest way to skim the business. Any idea what her personal financial situation is? Large purchases, big debts, stuff like that?” Ruth asked.

  “Her vehicle, at least the one we’ve seen, is an older model mid-range sedan. I don’t know about her apartment; however, it may be laden with big-ticket items,” Gordon said.

  “Excuse the old-school input, people,” Jake interjected. “But wouldn’t it have been easier to skim some of the incoming cash and just put it under her mattress? The only real record of cash coming in is the actual bills themselves, and she keeps the books. Why flash your crime with an extravagant lifestyle?”

  “Well, now that her romance with Nathan is out in the open, I guess we’ll see how she behaves,” Charlie said.

  “You mean she’s at work today? Patricia is going along with that?” Ruth asked.

  Charlie quickly explained the conditions Patricia was going to implement, and Ruth nodded. “I’d have terminated her,” Ruth said. “There’s no way of knowing what might be missing from Whitaker’s apartment or how many times Anna has been there since his death.”

  Jake looked up at the clock. “I agree with Ruth, but time waits for no man—or woman. I need to get set up out on the floor before our customers start showing up.”

  Gordon stood. “No, you and Ruth take care of the office today, Charlie and I will handle the customers, right, Chuck?”

  “Good. Ruth was going to show me how to work the website anyway,” Jake replied. “Later I’ll check to see what items can be priced and put out on display.”

  Except for a few reporters who came by in the morning asking for a comment from him regarding the arrest of the suspected terrorist, business at FOB Pawn was typical, and that was just fine with Charlie. The high point of the day was taking Ruth to lunch at Frank and Linda’s while Gordon and Jake tended to customers. Charlie and Ruth had a great conversation, mostly about Rene, who was coming to the shop next Saturday. Then they walked up the alley to the shop, holding hands.

  “We’re back,” Charlie announced as they came in through the rear entrance. “Anything new?”

  “Does that include us?” came the voice of Detective Wayne DuPree, who stood when they came in. Nancy was there as well, in the office.

  “Bearers of more good news, I hope?” Ruth said, stepping forward to give DuPree a hug. He stood there a second before returning the gesture, somehow barely touching her. His face turned red.

  Ruth laughed, then gave Nancy a much more appreciated embrace. “Charlie and I are finally having a really good day. Please tell us more.”

  Gordon came up quickly to the office door. “Go ahead, guys. You’re gonna want to hear this. Jake and I’ve got things handled out here,” he added, nodding to a customer who’d just approached the front register.

  Nancy glanced over at Ruth, who’d quickly taken a seat, then gave Charlie a mischievous wink. Everyone was picking up on the fact that Charlie and Ruth were finally becoming a pair.

  Charlie sat at his desk, noticing a folder there with DuPree’s name on it. “Can I take a look?”

  He opened the folder and discovered Anna Brown’s military records inside. A quick glance confirmed what he’d already been thinking.

  “So Anna was AP, Air Police, and spent much of her time working base security. She was trained in detecting and handling explosives—like with car bombs—and in gaining quick entry into and out of vehicles. She barely qualified with her handgun, but shot expert with a rifle. I see she received a commendation for rescuing a child in a hot car using a slim jim. Not a bad record at all.”

  “You haven’t seen the last two pages, Charlie,” Nancy said.

  He read the report, which contained several redacted names, then looked up at Nancy, who nodded. “Yeah, I get it. She was accused of stalking an airman, even attacking his new girlfriend. She avoided a disciplinary hearing by leaving the service. Honorable discharge, even.”

  “So maybe she also had problems with Nathan, if she has a history of being unable to let go,” Ruth observed.

  “That’s certainly possible, but as for killing him, that’s still unclear. Ms. Brown might have an alibi for that night,” DuPree said, looking over at Nancy. “Detective?”

  Nancy nodded. “We always start with the obvious—where were the people who knew him best? I interviewed Anna and Max Mitchell the morning after the attack. Anna claimed to be at her apartment and Max was at a local café. I was able to verify Max’s alibi. Patricia Azok was at her place, with Steven Azok watching her front door, as we already know.”

  Charlie thought about it for a moment. “How do we know for certain that Anna was at home? Are there parking lot cameras at her building, as with Patricia’s?”

  DuPree looked at Nancy, who nodded. “Let me follow up on that.”

  “You might want to see if there’s a back window to her apartment. Anna knows how to make a quick exit,” Charlie suggested.

  “Well, if we can’t arrest her for shooting Nathan, we still have a good shot—pardon the expression—with Todd Colby’s murder,” DuPree said with a grim smile.

  Nancy held up a second folder, with a New Mexico State Police emblem on the outside. “I can’t show you this, but I can tell you that the state crime lab found Anna Brown’s prints in Colby’s apartment—on the back of the ISIS poster, no less. Plus a few blond hairs in the hall beside his bed that apparently belong to a woman. If we get a sample of Anna’s DNA, we might find a match.”

  “Aren’t her fingerprints enough?” Ruth asked.

  “More is better. A defense attorney might argue that the fingerprints on the poster only prove she handled it, maybe before it was placed in Colby’s trailer. Still incriminating, but less so,” Dupree pointed out.

  “I see,” Ruth replied.

  “So circumstantial evidence suggests
that Anna may have had a motive to kill Nathan—extreme jealousy—and that she was involved with Colby in some way. Maybe they also had a relationship that … went south,” Charlie said.

  “Or she used him to get the explosives, then created the bomb that blew Azok’s body apart, at the same time framing him for Nathan’s murder,” Nancy suggested.

  “But she didn’t know Azok had a clear alibi for that shooting, did she?” Charlie asked.

  “This is getting complicated,” Ruth said, shaking her head. “How will you put all this together to charge her with … whatever crimes she’s actually committed?”

  “That’s the problem. We have all this circumstantial evidence, but nothing solid—not yet, anyway,” DuPree said.

  “But Anna’s starting to make mistakes now, like getting caught in Nathan’s apartment,” Charlie concluded. “So if we can increase the pressure a little more, maybe she’ll crack.”

  “But what about the terrorist guy the FBI arrested?” Ruth asked. “Does he know Anna? Could he be working with her?”

  “Consensus among our department is that the guy is a nutcase who’s too stupid to have done the deed, and he may have even been out of state when Whitaker was shot. The witness who came forward with that information isn’t quite sure, unfortunately. The Feds are trying to clarify the issue,” DuPree said.

  Nancy nodded. “So Charlie, would you be willing to give the Back Up staff some face time, maybe putting more pressure on Anna? We’re trying to get a judge to force the cloud vendor to give up Nathan’s user name. We’re hoping that whatever Nathan was saving in those files may provide enough evidence to charge Anna, or at least clarify a motive. Unfortunately, the opportunity to access that information hasn’t come through yet.”

  “Can the state attorney general call the vendor and ask for an immediate response? Or maybe the governor, or one of our two senators?” Ruth suggested. “Terrorism is a big concern.”

  “Good idea,” DuPree agreed. “I’ll pass that along to our legal people.”

  “If Anna discovers just how close she is to being arrested, there will be problems,” Charlie suggested. “I’m guessing she already has an escape plan.”

  “We’re having her apartment watched, beginning this evening, and we’re hoping you might want to go over to Back Up for a little undercover work. Stir the pot,” Nancy suggested.

  “Neither of us can do this, she’d behave perfectly. But you might be able to get her angry. You’re good at that, Charlie,” DuPree said.

  “You mean I can be really annoying,” Charlie said with a smile.

  “Not nearly as much as Gordon, but you have a greater stake in all this,” DuPree pointed out.

  “Isn’t that dangerous, if Anna really is a killer—the killer?” Ruth asked. “Has she been the one taking shots at him? What about the firebomb?”

  “Charlie will be armed,” Nancy said. “She’s more likely to flee than risk a close-quarter shootout.”

  “I’ll carry my Beretta,” Charlie said. “And my backup knife.”

  “And you’ll also be wired,” DuPree added, placing the small device on the desk.

  “Finally, we’re getting to the real reason you guys came here today,” Charlie said, rolling his eyes.

  DuPree nodded. “We spent the morning planning all this.”

  “Just be safe, Charlie. We’ll be listening in,” Nancy assured. “But there’s something else you might want to know…”

  Chapter Twenty

  Charlie arrived at the Back Up office a little after one thirty, having made a quick call to Patricia. She welcomed his visit and the offer to search for the potential user name necessary to access Nathan’s mysterious account.

  Pulling into the parking slot beside Max’s old Jeep, he noted that both Patricia and Anna’s vehicles were in their usual slots. Of course he knew Anna’s vehicle would be there, since he’d been tracking it from his cell phone ever since Russell had emailed him the app and codes for the GPS bug Charlie had placed the other night. Gordon had the codes as well.

  Quickly Charlie adjusted the small audio bug DuPree had required. It was attached to him near the groin and tended to shift. “Can you hear me now?” he joked, then climbed out of the rental car. A vehicle horn from somewhere around the corner verified that Nancy and Gordon were in position to listen, but not be seen. Now all he had to do was carry out the plan.

  Five minutes later, he was quietly looking around the outer office, searching behind posters and wall photos while Patricia and Max were working at their desks. Currently they were taking turns calling employers who were part of the program, trying to get work assignments for vet clients. Anna had greeted him with cold politeness, then quickly left the room.

  Not finding anything written onto what he was checking, he took notes on the subjects of the images instead. The photographs included a Huey slick rising from a Vietnamese fire base, a Navy Intruder aircraft launching from a carrier, an Abrams in Baghdad, a Hummer in ’Stan, and so forth. He noted anything that might serve as a user name, wanting to look busy for Anna’s sake.

  After that, he examined the file cabinet in the front office, looking at the names or words on folders, jotting down a few that were written in a different color ink. Several minutes later he abandoned the pretense and stepped through the doorway into Anna’s office. She’d been standing, apparently watching, but sat down in her desk chair after he entered.

  “I’ll try to keep out of your way, Anna, but this is the only place I haven’t checked. Patricia and Max have already gone over their work areas, and I assume you’ve done the same.”

  “Of course. Go ahead and look around, but I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on.”

  “That new system Patricia wanted?”

  She nodded.

  “How many clients were paid in cash since Back Up began operations? Any idea?” he asked, approaching her desk.

  She shrugged. “More when we began than now. Still, I keep reminding Patricia that many homeowners prefer to pay in cash. Those jobs were often just one or two days long, and the amounts rarely exceed a few hundred dollars.”

  He nodded. “But every dollar helped the vets still looking for permanent work. I spoke to some of them on the list Patricia provided, and there were a few that admitted underreporting their income. You knew about that?”

  “It’s not my place to ask. I’m the bookkeeper, and my job has always been to hold back ten percent of what they declared. I never questioned their honesty. Those men and women need every dollar,” she said.

  “So you don’t think Back Up deserves an honest and fair commission for tracking down those jobs and placing the vets? Money that makes all this possible.”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “Did Nathan know how much skimming was going on?”

  “I have no idea what Nathan was thinking,” she replied.

  “But you got to know him so very well. Intimately, right?”

  Her face lit up. “Just do what you came here for, and get your ass out of my office!”

  “But didn’t you notice that some of the vets payed in cash weren’t reporting amounts that matched their agreed-upon work hours and salaries? You had to know what the employer was paying them, since the Back Up staff set up the jobs and settled on the terms,” Charlie argued.

  Anna didn’t comment, but Charlie could see her face turning red. Her fists were clenched, and her eyes were narrowed. Several seconds went by, then she relaxed, at least on the inside, and resumed working at her keyboard.

  He felt his own face reddening as well. His father had taught him from childhood to respect women, and he couldn’t recall if he’d ever deliberately antagonized a lady. Thinking back, all he could recall was that time with Rose Davis, in the fourth grade. She’d deliberately tripped him in the lunch line, and he’d retaliated by dumping his food tray over her head. He’d ended up in the principal’s office, but it had been worth it.

  This time, though, there was more t
han embarrassment at stake. It was time to play his trump card. He wandered over to the wall opposite her desk to view the photo of soldiers being greeted at an airport by relatives and other passengers with handshakes and welcome home signs. He wrote down some of the messages on the signs in his notebook, then moved down to the four-drawer file cabinet in the corner, just a few feet from the entrance to the front office.

  Charlie looked at the cabinet itself, opened the file drawers one at a time, taking notes on the contents, before examining the calendar that was fastened to the metal side with magnets. The photo above the dates was of White Sands. He took off the magnets, looked through the previous months, and then put the calendar in place. Again he took notes.

  “Hey, what is this?” he said, looking along the gap where the back of the file cabinet was nearly touching the wall.

  Hoping he had her attention, he pulled out the cabinet a few inches, then put his pen and the notebook in his jacket pocket. He reached into the gap and brought out a blue Post-it note, which had been in his pocket until just now.

  “This was attached to the wall behind the cabinet with some poster putty,” he announced. “You hide it there, Anna?”

  She stood. “What does it say?”

  Charlie looked down at the writing. “Anna at Brown, and some gibberish. Capital I, then lower case pa, number 2, lower case tfot, upper case US, lower case o, then an upper case A. That gibberish sounds like a password, doesn’t it? And that’s your user name, right?”

  “Not even close. My user name here is abrown at backup dot org. You planted that, didn’t you?” Anna asked. “Trying to get me fired.”

  “Nice try,” he replied. “But since you insist this isn’t yours, I know you won’t mind checking it out,” he said, stepping toward her desk and handing her the paper.

  “Like hell I will. You’re playing some sick game and it ends right now.” She pointed toward the door. “Out!”

  “Okay,” Charlie replied, turning on his heels and walking back into the outer office. Behind him, Anna slammed the door and he heard the faint click of a lock. Patricia and Max looked up, clearly surprised.