After rolling behind a boulder, Jake sent several shots from the Uzi towards the location he thought the bullets had come from, when he ceased firing, he heard the sound of movement behind him, both to his right and left, and knew that at least three men were trying to surround him. The sounds weren’t nearby, and so he concentrated on the man in front.
After sending two warning shots towards his rear, Jake crawled forward behind the trunk of a cactus, and searched for movement. He saw it seconds later, as a stick thin man with a very long beard came slithering along the ground like a snake, while headed for the boulder that Jake had just left. The man didn’t spot him until it was too late, and Jake placed a round into his forehead.
“Creeper? Did you get him?”
The words were whispered and came from so close behind that Jake expected the man to soon step on him. He left the area in the same snake-like way as the man he had just shot and made it behind another boulder.
“Shit, Creeper’s dead too. Who the fuck is out here, Rambo?”
Those words were spoken by Bronco, and Jake tried to pinpoint their source as he rose from behind the rock and fired until his gun was empty.
He didn’t hit Bronco, but did managed to seriously wound the man who had been crouched to the left of him, and he was also able to see that there were three of them, and that Emmy had underestimated the count by at least one.
When the Uzi made the distinctive clicking sound of an empty gun, Jake racked the slide several times, pulled the trigger, and again heard only clicks.
Bronco laughed, and cried out, “He’s empty!” and not being one to argue, Jake pulled the trigger several more times to add confirmation to the thought. Then, even as he tossed the Uzi out with one hand, he pulled the second gun from behind his back, and waited.
Bronco laughed louder as he saw the discarded weapon hit the ground.
“There’s no surrendering, dude, we ain’t cops, we’re just going to come back there and whack you.”
Jake waited until he could hear their breathing, and then leapt out and began firing.
And as Bronco’s bullets tore into him, Jake’s mind filled with thoughts of Kelli.
***
Hennessy saw the car flying towards him and figured that it must be Chris and Rayne. While he normally would have become furious upon seeing civilians headed towards an active crime scene, he welcomed the extra guns at his back, as his deputies were still minutes away.
Hennessy made a wide, skidding turn onto the Gates’ dirt road, and then looked into his rear view mirror to see Rayne do the same.
“Hold on, Caliber, we’re coming.”
***
Bronco lay in the sand, while dying from a head wound that had ripped away his jaw and exited just under his left eye. Behind him was another man with blood spurting from his neck.
Jake noticed all this from his vantage point on the ground, as he leaned back against a boulder and checked his wounds.
One bullet had passed through the outer part of his left shoulder, and thankfully had missed hitting bone, while the bullet in his right thigh was still lodged there, and blood seeped from the wound, but so far, the pain had yet to rise up. The same could not be said for the earlier wound he had suffered to his ear, which throbbed madly, and out of all proportion to its slightness.
He rose to his feet and found that his leg could support his weight, and heard the sound of a siren growing closer. However, the sound was soon eclipsed by the screams of Emmy Gates.
Jake looked around, saw only the dead and dying, and limped towards Emmy’s cries, as several shots rang out.
***
Roxana cursed her rotten aim. She had fired so many times at Emmy Gates and missed each time, but finally managed to hit her in the arm with her last round. Emmy was laying on the ground, and with her back against the base of the cliff, Roxana knew she would soon see her dead.
“Bronco! I finally shot the bitch. Did you guys get yours... Bronco?”
“Whichever one was Bronco, he’s probably dead, they’re all done for and you’re all alone.”
Roxana spun at the sound of Jake’s voice and saw him looking out from the shelter of a boulder. Her face was a bloody mess, as the wounds inflicted upon her by Emmy’s nails were beginning to swell, and one eye was nearly closed.
“Bronco ain’t dead. Bronco! Bronco! Hombre! Denny? Coots? Ruben? Hey! Come kill this bastard. Bronco! Bron... Bron... Bronco?”
Emmy let out a laugh.
“They’re all dead, Roxana, all dead!”
Roxana spun back around and pulled the trigger, having forgotten that her gun was empty.
Jake advanced on her cautiously in a limping gait, while still looking about for other shooters. When he reached Roxana, he hit her with a right cross that knocked her out and sent her sprawling.
The siren was close now, and stationary, and Jake knew that Hennessy had at last arrived, when he turned, he saw the flash of red and blue lights atop the hill.
He walked over to Emmy as the bullet lodged in his thigh began to burn like a hot coal. After helping her up, the two of them started back towards the road. As he reached the line of burning motorcycles, he saw Hennessy walking towards him while wielding an assault rifle, with Christopher and Rayne following.
Hennessy called to him.
“Talk to me, Caliber!”
“It’s safe, they’ve all been handled, most are dead, but there’s some wounded.”
Hennessy stopped in his tracks, gun still held up and ready, as his mind struggled to process the words.
“How many were there? That fool, Pruitt, he claimed that there were over a dozen.”
“He was right,” Jake said, as Chris and Rayne gathered near him, and they both winced at his bloody wounds.
Out by the hulk of the burnt trailer, more flashing lights arrived, and with them was a van from the local cable television station.
Hennessy walked over while staring at Jake with awe in his eyes, awe, respect, and just a touch of fear. When he spotted Emmy’s wounded arm, he placed a gentle hand on her back, and began guiding her towards the road.
“Let’s get you folks some medical care,” Hennessy said, and with a nod of agreement, Jake followed.
And in the early morning hours of a Texas day, another legend was born, and yet, it was one that bore a familiar name. Caliber, Jake Caliber.
CHAPTER 20
Chris had gone with Jake to the clinic, but Rayne and Pruitt had stayed behind with Sheriff Hennessy.
In all, there were eleven men dead, and four seriously wounded, including Hombre, who had severe burns over more than fifty percent of his body. Roxana Gates was charged with attempted murder; she also suffered a broken jaw, thanks to Jake’s punch.
Even as the bodies were being taken away, Hennessy enlisted the aid of two deputies and followed Emmy Gates’ directions to the spot where she believed that Hombre had discovered the strongbox that contained the money.
Rayne and Pruitt stood by watching as the ground was dug into. When the first shovel tinkled against metal, they exchanged glances, and Pruitt saw the stark look of disappointment cover Rayne’s face.
“You were hoping to find it yourself, weren’t you?” Pruitt said.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rayne said, but there was the sound of sadness in her voice.
“Yank it out of there, men,” Hennessy told his deputies, and soon their treasure was revealed, causing Hennessy to bray with laughter.
“It’s just an old road sign,” one of the deputies said. “Hell, that probably blew off in a storm and got covered over decades ago.”
The sign was flat, made of heavy metal, and still held some of its green paint.
Hennessy, still chuckling, picked it up and handed it to Pruitt.
“There’s your treasure, Pruitt. I hear those things go for a few bucks to collectors on eBay.”
Pruitt gave the sheriff a sour look, and tossed the sign in the sand.
“There’s no
thing here, what a wasted trip.”
Rayne seemed cheered by the find, and patted Pruitt on the arm.
“Sorry.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“How sorry? I mean, if you really want to cheer me up, we could go back to the motel and—ooofff!”
Rayne punched him in the stomach and headed back towards the road, but then called over her shoulder.
“If you want a ride back, you’d better hurry, Pruitt.”
Pruitt smiled at Hennessy.
“She likes to play hard to get, you know?”
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Hennessy said.
***
Rayne and Pruitt arrived at the clinic and found Jake with a heavily bandaged leg and shoulder. Chris was with him, and still looked a bit subdued by the realization that he had nearly lost his brother.
Emmy was doing well, as her arm wound wasn’t serious, and Pruitt learned that West would live, and that he was being praised for getting her to the doctor so quickly.
Jake stared at him, and then smiled.
“You’re not as big a dirt bag as I thought you were, Pruitt. You actually risked your life to help West.”
“Not only that, but I was wounded too.”
“Where were you wounded?” Rayne asked.
Pruitt lifted his pant leg and showed them the burn mark on his calf where a bullet had touched him as it whizzed past, it was about the size of a dime, and was turning purple.
Rayne tried not to laugh, but lost the battle, and pointed at Pruitt’s leg.
“That has to be the tiniest bullet wound of all time, I mean, Jake’s ear suffered more damage.”
Pruitt appeared genuinely hurt and began to sulk, but he brightened as Rayne stretched up and gave him a peck on the cheek.
“I shouldn’t have laughed; you were very brave to save that deputy,” Rayne said.
Sheriff Hennessy entered the room with two men and introduced them as FBI agents.
They needed Jake and Pruitt to walk them through the night’s events, but said that it could wait until morning, after everyone had gotten at least a few hours of sleep. Hennessy then warned Jake that the story had gotten out, and that the media was already gathering.
“I even saw on the news where they had your picture alongside your grandfather, and his grandfather,” Hennessy said. “And I know that they’ll be looking to speak with you.”
“I’ve got nothing to say. I came here to prove Velma innocent and that’s still my goal, so tell me, is there a chance that those bikers had anything to do with Gates’ murder?”
“I don’t think so, but the toxicology results should be in by morning, and once they come in, I’m calling a meeting, and then we’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Jake studied the sheriff’s face.
“You have a suspect?”
“I do, actually, two of them, but we’ll talk in the morning, right now, why don’t we all get some sleep.”
It was decided that Jake would stay at the clinic and rest under medical care, while the others went back to the motel.
As they stepped outside, Chris, Rayne, and Pruitt all yawned at the same time, and when she checked her watch, Rayne saw that it was after three a.m.
“What time does the sun come up around here?” she asked.
“About six-thirty, why?” Pruitt said.
“Just curious,” Rayne said.
Rayne drove the short drive back to the motel, where Pruitt said goodnight and went to his room, leaving Rayne and Chris alone.
Rayne smiled, as she stood in front of her room.
“Are you coming in?”
“No, and... I won’t be, ever again.”
“Because if you do, you’ll lose Velma.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be available, Chris. I just want you to know that.”
Chris shook his head.
“Goodnight, Rayne.”
Rayne leaned back against her door.
“At least you didn’t say goodbye.”
Chris entered his room, and Rayne remained leaning against her door. She checked her watch again, and calculated that she had just enough time to do what she needed to do.
She then left the motel on foot, while keeping to the shadows.
CHAPTER 21
6:03 a.m., New York City
The old man turned on the radio while he shaved and heard his name mentioned, but as he listened, he realized that it was about Jake and the events of the previous night in Texas.
He went into the living room and put on the TV, and after a few minutes, the news covered the same story, but with more detail.
The local television station had been on hand when Jake emerged from his desert crucible and the old man grimaced as he saw his grandson’s bloody wounds, but then the camera zoomed in on Jake’s face, and he saw the eyes. They were the eyes of a warrior, the eyes of a conqueror, the same eyes that have stared back at him in the mirror for most of his life.
With a towel, he rubbed off the remaining shaving cream, and then used the back of his hand to wipe at the tears of pride that rolled down his cheeks.
“I love you, Jakey, I love you, boy.”
***
Pachaw, Texas
At 9:00 a.m., Jake, Pruitt, and the sheriff returned from their walk about the Gates property, and learned that the toxicology report had come in.
Hennessy picked up the folder from his desk, passed it to Jake without even looking at it, and said one word.
“Diapolenax,”
Jake opened the file as Pruitt leaned in to read it with him, and saw that an animal anesthesia named Diapolenax was found to be in Velma’s system.
“How did you know what it would be?” Pruitt said.
Sheriff Hennessy sighed.
“Dr. Penn is dead; he died last evening. He had been called out to a farm to treat a bull that had cut itself badly on a broken fence post and he gave it that drug to knock it out while he stitched the wound. The thing is, the drug had been diluted with water, and the bull recovered too quickly and crushed him.”
“What’s his wife say about this?” Jake asked.
“The woman is still in shock over her husband’s death and has not commented, but I have a deputy fetching her now. We’re going to get to the bottom of this.”
“She’s a suspect, but she’s also the mayor, are you going to get any flak from this?”
“She could cut my department’s funding to the bone, but then, none of that matters.”
Jake passed the folder back to Hennessy.
“Given those results, are you willing to free Velma?”
Hennessy pointed behind Jake.
Jake turned and saw a smiling Velma headed his way with Chris and Rayne beside her. When she entered the office, he took her in a hug, then, grunted in pain, which was caused by the wound to his shoulder.
Velma released him and shook her head in wonder.
“Chris told me what happened last night, thank God you survived that.”
He smiled.
“Kelli wouldn’t believe I was okay until I sent her a picture, and I had to talk her into staying in New York.”
“Did you speak to your grandfather?”
“I did.”
“What did he say?”
“He said that he was proud of me, that he loved me, and that I was to bring you home.”
Velma looked over at Hennessy.
“Is that why I was released? Am I free to go now?”
Hennessy didn’t answer her, but walked around from behind his desk and over to his door.
Two deputies approached, one deputy escorted the mayor, while the other arrived with Emmy Gates, whose left arm was in a sling.
“Mayor Penn, Mrs. Gates, thank you both for coming, and please let me say again how sorry I am for both of your losses.”
Emmy looked shocked.
“Something happened to Dr. Penn?”
Hennessy explained how the doctor
had been killed, and Emmy wiped at tears. She then grew quiet, as she took in the crowd in Hennessy’s office, but the mayor felt the need to talk.
“Thank you for your condolences, Rich, and by the way, that deputy that just left should be given a driving lesson. He drives much too fast.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll speak to him,” Hennessy said, as he took a good look at her, and thought that the mayor appeared genuinely upset by the loss of her husband, as her eyes were red and puffy from crying.
Hennessy had the mayor and Emmy take seats in front of the desk, and then he asked Mayor Penn if she had any idea who might have tampered with her husband’s drug supply.
“I don’t know anything, Rich; perhaps it was a bad batch?”
“It was no bad batch, some of the missing drug was found in Miss Parker’s system, it seems that someone drugged her and then tried to frame her for Gates’ murder.”
Mayor Penn stared up at Velma.
“She killed Peter, the bloody blouse proved it.”
“No ma’am, that was just part of the frame.”
“I still know nothing about it, and I resent that you have dragged me in here today, only hours after my husband’s death. Can’t you let me mourn?”
“If what I suspect is true, well then, your husband’s death was caused by whoever stole the drug and replaced it with water. I assume that they were going to dispose of the faulty ampule once the inventory was done, but didn’t get to it in time before Doc was called out again.”
The mayor wiped at tears.
“I know nothing, nothing,”
Sheriff Hennessy looked at Emmy.
“Reverend Thomas says he was passing by in the opposite direction when he saw you come flying out of the Roadhouse Bar & Grill parking lot on the day your husband was killed. He also assures me that the time was 8:30 a.m. So tell me, why is there a fourteen-minute time difference between the driving time to the trailer, and the time we received your call about the fire?”
Emmy looked surprised by the question as she gazed about the room, but then answered.
“It was the train. I had to wait for a long, slow train to go by, and I was so mad that I caught it too, maybe if I hadn’t, I could have stopped the murder.”
Caliber Detective Agency Box Set 2 Page 25