"There will be a chopper in the air shortly, but if they get out of the desert before then, we may lose them."
"They may already be out," one of the officers said.
"Let's hope not," Dan said, just joining them. "What's the plan?"
"Spreading out fifty feet apart and driving through on foot," Josh said.
"Then let's do it."
With that the officers went right and left while Josh and Dan broke slightly away leaving CJ to follow the main trail.
At the fence line, made up of three strands of barbed wire, CJ tried to imagine how they got over, through or under with Trish and Stella in tow and handcuffed. Several shreds of material the size of a little finger hung on the barbs. CJ separated the wires and stepped through, catching a piece of his own clothing. With Glock in hand, pointed up, he began working his way between prickly pear cactus, saguaros and giant palo verde trees and came upon what appeared to have been a scuffle around a grouping of cholla. On the ground, caught up in pieces of broken off cholla, lay a bloody towel that CJ recognized as being from the kitchen. Scores of cholla spines can penetrate the skin instantly. One of them must have had a painful run-in and sacrificed the towel to extract them. CJ hoped it was one of the Clark brothers and not Stella or Trish. After one such run-in of his own some ten years before, CJ's comment to Pat was that he'd have been better off falling into a pit of rattlesnakes or wrestling with a porcupine.
CJ stepped across the towel and pieces of cholla lying about and picked up his pace. Although the wail of sirens seemed to be coming from everywhere, in the desert they could all be a mile or two away. CJ welcomed them because he was sure he was making too much noise.
And then he saw it, through a small space beneath a palo verde tree, the black van, side door open, legs moving about, Trish sitting on the ground, head bowed... still. He skirted around the tree and several huge prickly pear cactus until he was clear and within thirty feet.
Tommy had Stella by the arm, trying to force her into the van, his right arm hanging by his side, dripping blood. Kevin had Trish by the arm, trying to lift her to her feet. In his right hand he was holding what looked to be a Glock similar to the one CJ was pointing at him. Trish wasn't cooperating, appearing to play the part of a rag doll.
"It's all over, boys," came Dan's voice from CJ's left.
"Put it down, Kevin," said Josh from CJ's right.
Kevin stiffened for a split second then dropped to his knees behind Trish and put the gun to her head. In the same second Tommy spun around, bringing Stella with him, his arm tight around her neck. Although there was a gun in his holster, he would not be able to get to it without letting Stella go, however, it was obvious with his size that he could break her neck as fast as Kevin could pull the trigger on Trish.
Certain that Dan and Josh had their sights on Kevin, CJ leveled his Glock on Tommy's head and stepped slowly forward.
"Let them go and let's end this quietly, right now," CJ said. "You're a cop, Tommy. You know you can't get away. Tell your brother to put the gun down and then both of you step away."
"Don't listen to him, Tommy," Kevin said.
"The women you killed didn't do anything to you, Tommy," CJ said. "It's your mother who you should be angry with, and you took care of her already, isn't that right?"
Kevin looked up at his brother. "What's he saying, Tommy?"
"Nothing, Kevin. Shut up."
CJ considered Kevin's question for a second. "You never told Kevin that you flew to New York for the sole purpose of punishing your mother the last time she beat him and knocked him down the stairs? You promised her that's what you'd do if she ever touched him again, and a promise is a promise, isn't that right?"
"You think you're so smart, Mister Ex-cop," Tommy said. "Had to get your PI license and then show off by making Ralph Bunko look bad. You think you're such a badass. He's full of bullshit, Kevin, just like he's always been. Clinton Joshua Washburn. A bullshit name. And see that guy behind you Kevin. That's his little boy. Joshua James Washburn, Special Agent for the FBI. Another bullshit name. Can you believe that? Fuckin' with the Tucson police force wasn't enough. Now he's brought in his FBI son to fuck with us, too."
Kevin looked over his shoulder, at Josh, at CJ and then brought his gaze back around to Detective Payne who'd closed the distance to less than twenty feet. After several seconds Kevin looked up at his brother again.
"Did you kill Mom, Tommy?"
"She hurt you one too many times."
"I didn't ask you to kill her. I thought..."
"You thought what, Kevin? That she put herself in that dumpster? You were always so damned innocent, so damned forgiving."
"It was my fault that she got mad at me."
CJ chanced a look down at Trish. She was sitting with her casted leg straight out, the other turned under. What was most noticeable were three fist-sized chunks of cholla stuck to one arm, from the wrist to elbow, like three massive pin cushion balls, only in this case the pins pointed out and were a lot more deadly.
"Your fault!" Tommy said. "It was never your fault, Kevin. I can't believe you said that, that you thought that."
CJ moved to his left to come around where he could see Trish's face. He knelt down ten feet from her.
"Don't even think about it," Kevin said, pressing the barrel of the gun tighter against Trish's head.
"I'm not thinking anything, Kevin. I just want to see that Trish is alright. Looks like she came in contact with some cactus."
"Stupid bitch," Tommy said. "Ran me into it, too. Think she did it on purpose. Should have killed her right on the spot is what I should have done."
"Trish. You okay?" CJ said.
Trish slowly raised her head. She locked eyes with her father, raised her arms and smiled.
"Standup and back away," Tommy said.
CJ looked at her, trying to understand what she was attempting to tell him, because he was certain she was trying to pass a message. Again she raised her arms and with it her head ever so slightly, shifting her eyes toward Kevin at the same time.
"I'm okay Dad," she said. "Just give me ten."
"You hear her?" Tommy said. "Says she's okay. Now step away."
"Okay," he said, though still confused. He stood and stepped a few steps to the side, keeping the Glock leveled on Tommy's head. At the same time, from the corner of his eye, he noticed Trish's damaged foot start to twitch, and then he got it.
One, he thought to himself.
Two.
"What were you doing?" Tommy said.
Three.
"Checking that my daughter was fine."
Four.
"Not real happy the way you've been treating her," CJ said.
Five.
"Who the fuck cares?" Tommy said.
Six.
"She's a fuck'n bitch."
Seven.
"All bitches are worthless; just like this one who's neck I'm going to snap if you don't back off."
Eight.
Stella no longer struggled, appeared to have faded into unconsciousness. "That why you killed all those women, Tommy?"
Nine.
"Yes."
Ten.
Trish twisted and then slammed her cholla filled arm back into Kevin's face. As they both erupted in screams CJ fired a single round straight through Tommy's left eye.
Before Kevin could accidently shoot Trish or himself, Josh rushed in and snatched the gun out of his hand. Kevin grabbed for the cholla and within seconds both of his hands were stuck to the cactus pin-cushions and he was screaming louder than Trish and thrashing out of control. Josh ejected the clip and the chambered round from Kevin's gun, then used the gun to slam him alongside the head until he stopped thrashing and screaming. Then he dropped down next to Trish, pushing his dad out of the way.
"I'll take care of her," Josh said. "Go to Stella." He placed his hand on Trish's face and said, "Hush sweet girl. Lie still. It's over."
Stella and Tommy had fallen in opposit
e directions and Dan had caught her just before she hit the ground. CJ slid in next to him.
"She's breathing," Dan said. "She's breathing. He didn't break anything, just cut off her air."
"I had to shoot him," CJ said. "He'd have killed her if I hadn't."
"I'm with you on this, CJ."
CJ touched Stella's face. "Stella." When she didn't respond he pushed her hair back and called her name again.
She opened her eyes, closed them and then opened them again. She looked between Dan and CJ. "Is he...?" The words came out as a whisper.
"Don't try to talk," Dan said. "We'll get you water. It's over, Stella."
"Trish," she said.
"She'll be okay," CJ said. "You're both okay."
"I heard her... screaming."
"And now she's crying, yes. Cactus is all. She's okay. Josh is with her."
The police helicopter appeared overhead, blowing sand and making talk impossible until it set down in an open area about fifty yards to the north. Five minutes later an EMS vehicle arrived, followed shortly by another. Within minutes the EMS techs had sedated Trish and cut away all the cactus joining her to Kevin Clark, leaving only the barbs. The hospital, under sterile conditions, would do the rest. Tommy Clark lay right where he had fallen backwards into the van. Techs covered his body and face with a white sheet.
It seemed forever before the EMS vehicle carrying Kevin Clark departed, an escort of two uniformed officers aboard along with vehicle escorts front and back.
Ignoring Stella's protest that she was fine, the EMS techs forced her into the vehicle with Trish. The techs would only allow one family member to ride with them. CJ and Josh stood next to each other, staring in at the two women, Stella holding Trish's hand.
I'm okay, Clint," Stella said. "Let Josh come and be with his sister."
CJ looked between Trish, who was already out of it thanks to the pain killer, and Stella, and then at Josh. He slapped Josh on the shoulder and said, "Take care of them both. I'll be along as soon as I can."
"That may be a while," Detective Payne said as he walked up. "Got a shooting here. Have to make sure we have all the facts down before we cut him free."
"You know it was a good shoot, Dan," CJ said.
"No doubt in my mind, but you know the drill. A firearm was discharged and a life was taken. Has to be investigated. You had four witnesses, all law enforcement, which means by the book all the way. I don't think there'll be any problems."
"He also confessed to the murders," CJ said, "and threatened to kill Stella."
"That he did, and we all heard it. The question will be, what if you had missed?"
"He wouldn't have missed," Josh said. "In all my FBI training and all my time on the range with other agents, I've never seen anyone who could shoot like my father."
With that, Josh stepped into the EMS vehicle.
"Josh," CJ said.
Josh turned to look out at him. "Yeah, Dad?"
"I'm really glad you came."
Josh nodded. "Me too."
Chapter 60
CJ watched out the second floor office window overlooking Tuesday morning traffic on Broadway Boulevard. The killings were finally over but there'd been so much damage that could never be repaired, damage to parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts and uncles, friends; damage to the security and independence of all young women; damage to the Tucson community. The national media was only beginning to slow down their reporting on the horrific drama that had been played out over the previous few weeks. One of what was thought to be the city's finest had taken the lives of so many Tucson daughters. Little had been said, however, about Maria Rodston, the young woman Tommy had killed in Moscow, Idaho. The only details about Tommy's death that had been released was that he died in a police shootout. That was just fine with CJ. He wanted no credit, nor blame.
He thought about the special he watched on TV the night before by local television news personalities, Reuwben Chavez and Candice Reed. It was entitled, "The Tucson Blues... Can the Cops be Trusted?" Another was running tonight, entitled, "The Tucson Blues... Fathers, Keep an Eye on Your Daughters," as though Tommy Clark had spread his insanity to all other young men. CJ wondered if there were going to be more "Tucson Blues," a month long series or some such thing. How long would they drag it out, continuing to whip up the anger of a mourning community? How long would it be before a single young woman, or anyone for that matter, would be able to trust a male cop at the same level as before? Or would they simply shrug and move on, a little bit more guarded, a little less trusting?
How long before the local media, or community, started asking the question, "Who fired the killing shot?"
CJ had been led in by Eleanor Mann and asked to sit. "Ms. Onassis will be along momentarily," she'd said. Eleanor Mann had been with Gianna for as long as CJ could remember.
CJ was too nervous to sit, so he had stood near the window and gazed out.
Eight women dead. It would have been nine if not for Officer Berk and Joe Foronda who kept Lisa Bowers alive until EMS arrived. Trish was alive because of pure luck. CJ had no idea what he was thinking when he told her to jump from the van. He didn't consider that she might land in the middle of traffic. Was there another alternative at the time? Waiting it out to see what happened, even now, seemed not to be a viable option. As a result, though, another woman died in Trish's place. CJ felt selfish for that and glad at the same time.
Stella suggested this morning that he should see a shrink.
And then in the desert when Trish slammed her cactus needle-laden arm into Kevin Clark's face, so much could have gone wrong with his finger on the trigger of a gun to her head. And CJ saw her plan and condoned it, went with it. Luck was with them that day... again.
He really didn't want to see a shrink.
Trish was released from the hospital into CJ and Stella's care Sunday afternoon. Pat got out of sorts about the arrangement, trying to play the custody card in front of the hospital and the nurse who wheeled Trish out. Trish reminded her mother that she was an adult and could make her own decisions, that custody no longer had any part to play. As in the past CJ made a point of not getting between Trish and her mother, and so stood just out of the way. Pat tried to act okay about it, giving Trish a kiss on the cheek just before glaring at Stella and walking away with the I am pissed slant to her back that CJ knew all too well. After Trish was settled into CJ's rental car, the nurse gave him a look of pity, just before turning away with the wheelchair.
CJ watched an EMS vehicle race by on Broadway, lights strobing, siren blaring, and wondered how much longer Gianna would be. He wiped his hands on his pants and thought about the conversation he'd had with Detective Bunko. He had been spending a few hours this Tuesday morning at the office by himself, responding to calls from two new clients who had seen him on the news, making additional calls and setting up his investigative approaches. He really wasn't ready to go back to work, but as an independent PI, he couldn't afford to start turning down clients. He'd also gone too long without an income.
He'd just finished his last call and was coming to his feet to go meet with Gianna when Ralph Bunko knocked and walked in. CJ was so surprised, he was almost speechless.
"Do you have a few minutes, CJ?" Bunko said.
"Maybe five, Ralph. I have another appointment." CJ pointed to a chair just before sitting back down in his own.
Bunko sat and then leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, appearing rather embarrassed, overly nervous. "I just wanted you to know that I had no idea what Tommy Clark was up to."
"I never had a thought that you did."
"He used me to get information about what you and Dan Payne and the FBI were doing. It was just by accident that I saw the addresses to your safe houses, and then I opened my big mouth. I didn't even know that he had a brother, let alone that he had brought him to Tucson from New York."
"Did you know about his mother?"
"That she died, yeah. That was it. When I asked hi
m how she'd died he'd told me breast cancer. How was I to know otherwise? Didn't have any reason to doubt him."
"Tommy had a rough childhood," CJ said, "thus he kept everything about his personal life a secret."
"That, he certainly did," Ralph said. "But he was a good cop. I took him under my wing and he learned fast, respected me. I...."
"You had no reason to suspect that he was anything but a good cop," CJ said. "I know how it goes. The two of you got together, knocked back a few brews, spouted off about past run-ins with other detectives and PIs, made more about it than it deserved and Tommy took it to heart. You may have been the first true friend he'd ever had so he became your self-appointed bodyguard, maybe figured he'd right some wrongs that he thought were done to you. It was by accident, or fate, that I stumbled upon one of his murders the way that I did. From that he saw an opportunity and ran with it until burying me became his driving obsession. No way could you have known."
Ralph shook his head. "No way could I have known. You probably know that I've been placed on temporary suspension."
"Sorry to hear that," CJ said, even though he wasn't. "I'm sure it's just a formality until the investigation is completed." CJ actually hoped that he'd be forced to resign.
Ralph stood. "I just wanted to say, I'm sorry."
CJ just looked at him for a long time, wondering if he had ever thought to say he was sorry to the families of the dead women. "Thank you for that." There was nothing more to say.
Without another word, Ralph Bunko turned and walked out.
Still staring out Gianna's office window, CJ wondered, not for the first time, if he should give up his PI license, find a job doing something normal or go back to school and finish up his law degree. He turned his head to look at Gianna's framed diploma hanging on the wall. He was maybe five years older than her. Was it too late in life to start over?
The door opened and he turned around to find Gianna Onassis standing before him. She looked worn and haggard, dressed in black.
She took his hand. "Thank you for coming to see me, CJ," she said. "You look like hell."
Deserving of Death (CJ Washburn, PI Book 1) Page 29