“These are perfect, Clyde. Absolutely delicious,” Sneed said as if he were chewing into savory barbeque ribs. “When I show these to the DCF agent, she’ll yank Mariella outta there so fast Moni will think a tornado swept through.”
“I don’t much like bouncing Mariella between homes like a ping pong ball,” Harrison said. “But Moni hasn’t done a thing to help the girl snap out of this. She hasn’t made a break in the case all this time and the bodies keep piling up. She’s protecting the girl and a lot of people are paying for it…”
Harrison didn’t need to mention Nina. Sneed understood that he constantly worried about his partner.
“She’s not awake yet,” Sneed said. “They’re keeping her out until the swelling goes down and they can perform the surgery. Her spine is cracked, but it ain’t broken all the way. When she gets back, we’ll have to anchor her behind a desk.”
Harrison stared at the empty car seat beside him. Nina wouldn’t fill it again. No one could kick a running suspect’s knees out or subdue a piece of trailer park trash like her. He couldn’t think of another soul he’d rather bust up a dope house with.
“Nina’s not gonna be the same in a cubicle,” Harrison said. “How could a fucking pelican take her down?”
“I don’t have the foggiest idea, son. Only the Lagoon Watcher knows, and without Mariella’s testimony about how he killed her parents, we don’t have enough evidence for a conviction.”
“You think she saw him do it?”
“She must have, but we can’t know for sure until we make that girl put all her cards on the table,” Sneed said. “If you wanna make yourself useful, you could join the DCF agent as she removes Mariella from that house of horrors and takes her in for questioning.”
As Harrison considered the offer, he watched Moni’s house. He saw Mariella peering out the bright window into the night. It appeared like she looked right at him for a minute, but that must have been a coincidence, he thought. She couldn’t see through his tinted windows into his darkened car, especially at night. Harrison felt a chill down his spine and a sudden urge to get the hell out of there. He obeyed his gut and rolled the car down the street.
“Was that an offer or a command?” Harrison asked about the DCF raid.
“More of the latter,” Sneed replied.
“That’s what I thought.” Harrison couldn’t hide the disappointment on his voice.
* * * *
The killer couldn’t hide much longer. Once Sneed made Mariella crack, and he jarred the evidence loose, he’d have all the ammunition he’d need.
Examining the photos of that child abusing ex-con entering Moni’s house, Sneed rubbed his round belly. It felt satisfied from a ham sandwich on top of the impending scrumptious triumph in this case. How about it, he thought, that Moni said she didn’t push Mariella hard so she could protect her, but she ended up exposing her to the most dangerous person in her life.
The forthcoming “I told you so” moment would have tasted sweeter if it didn’t have a barge full of corpses tagging along with it. After a phone conversation with Brigadier General Alonso Colon, Sneed realized that the body count would climb even higher if he didn’t wrap this up soon.
“I’m telling you this with the upmost confidence that word won’t get out to the general public,” Colon said. He waited for Sneed’s agreement before continuing—making sure the police officer knew who the higher authority was. “Late last night, some explosive ordinances were taken from Patrick Air Force Base. I don’t think I have to tell you that the circumstances were unusual.”
“And probably related to this case I’m working.” Sneed stressed that he’s working on the case, and not the military or the fed. Both of them have kept their ears on things without acting or, it appears from this little incident, sufficiently ramping up security.
Noting that Colon didn’t respond to his last comment, Sneed pressed on. “When you say ‘some’ explosives, what exactly are you talking about here?” Given that Patrick hosted bombers that flew around the world dropping haymakers, anything coming from there would dwarf any explosives domestic terrorists could assemble in their basements.
“One of these bombs would be enough to level a four-story building. You might know them as bunker busters,” Colon said. “They got away with sixteen.”
“Sixteen! Are you shitting me?” Sneed nearly burst a heart valve. “How do you lose sixteen high grade bombs?”
“We suspect they were dragged towards the lagoon. Whether they were submerged or transported by boat, we don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? If you couldn’t guard them, you should at least have the heist on camera. Hell, even gas stations get that right. You’re a fucking air force base!”
“I know what we are, Mr. Sneed,” Colon snapped. “I’m more furious than you that our security was compromised. Three soldiers left their posts for unexplained reasons. One of them said he forget he was on watch and called his mother because he suddenly worried about her. The other two had even worse excuses. As for the cameras, well, it’s not unheard of that a bird accidently strikes one and takes it out. That happens. But what shouldn’t happen is five cameras getting destroyed by birds—all the ones near where the explosives were stolen.”
“I’d call you crazy as a coyote if I didn’t know better,” Sneed said. “On the same night you had a flock of birds committing burglary, I had a pelican foil a car chase that could have bagged our lead suspect.”
“I heard about that. I wish Officer Skillings a speedy recovery.”
Realizing that he hadn’t even mentioned her condition, Sneed coughed and cleared his throat. He saw no use in dwelling on people who couldn’t help him solve the case any longer—especially with the stakes raised sixteen times higher.
“Do you want me to send a team to Patrick to sweep the scene?” Sneed asked.
“We’re bringing down federal agents for that. You’re about to have some more company in our task force meetings.”
Sneed loved when investigators from the federal alphabet soup of agencies got together and tore a case in 50 different directions. His team already had a thick case file and they could benefit more than anyone from adding to it with the evidence on Patrick.
“How about we join those agents on base?” Sneed asked. “We can tell you if it matches the prior crime scenes.”
“No can do. We can’t give you access to classified areas,” Colon replied staunchly.
“I got news for you. Those ‘classified’ areas of yours were visited more than Disney World last night.”
“There was a crowd all right, but not like you’d see in a theme park. We found unusual tracks along the path where the bombs were dragged toward the lagoon. We’ve got gators, horses, dogs, bare human feet and stuff I just plain don’t recognize. A whole section of fence along the lagoon whittled away from acid burns. That’s how they got in.”
“Horses, huh? I reckon I heard about some missing horses over the past few days. One rancher in West Melbourne said a horse leapt the gate, jumped down into a canal and followed it all the way to the lagoon. I didn’t buy that shit then. Now maybe I do. Somebody’s stocking a zoo down there.”
“A zoo capable of reducing sixteen buildings to rubble,” Colon reminded him. “If the Lagoon Watcher’s motive is to protect the lagoon, then he’s upped the ante. He thought that several murders and a plague of bacteria would make us adopt his demands—those 150 steps to clean the lagoon on his Web site. Nobody listened, so he figures that if he blows up some buildings, he’ll force us to comply.”
“Americans never cower to terrorists,” said Sneed, fully aware that he sounded like a patriotic country music song. “Doesn’t he know that our colors don’t run?”
“That sounds good, until civilians start getting carried out in body bags. We must form a concerted effort to sweep every potential target in this county for bombs every few days. And check all abandoned buildings for his lab.”
“I’m
on it. I’ll make sure the Watcher can’t show his face or his truck in public without somebody recognizing him and calling it in. We should have another break in the case soon. I have a sneaking suspicion that our lead witness will have a lot more to say.”
“If she said more than nothing, that would be good,” Colon said dismissively. Getting sneered down upon through the nose of the military man roiled Sneed up so bad that he snapped a pencil between his fingers.
“I’ll catch that killer and bring all sixteen of your bombs back just as they were before you lost them,” Sneed said. “And in the meantime, try not to lose any F-16s or stealth bombers.”
After an audible swallow, Colon issued some cold formalities and hung up. Sneed couldn’t help grinning after dominating that match of wits, but the stomach that had felt so satisfied minutes earlier now bulged full of moldy cottage cheese. Gagging, he thought of an explosion ripping open the side of a local building and the flailing bodies of office workers tumbling out through the flames. Sneed spat a glob of stomach acid into his trash can.
“Not on my watch,” Sneed said to himself.
Then he remembered that the incineration could happen in sixteen different places at any time. Pregnant women. The elderly. Children. He brought the lip of the trash can up to his chin.
Chapter 28
Moni didn’t know how long someone had been knocking on her door. She couldn’t hear the rapping through the Saturday morning rain pounding her roof and windows, until the knocking elevated to a forceful thud. If it had gone on any longer, it might have awoken Mariella. The girl didn’t usually sleep past ten, but after the traumatic visit from Moni’s father the night before, she figured the girl needed rest.
Mindful of another incursion by that monster, or maybe someone or something a whole lot worse, Moni stuck her pistol down the back of her sweat pants and concealed it underneath her oversized shirt. The thunder rolled through the sky. The African artifacts on her bookcase shook from the vibrations. Tropic hid under the kitchen table. She slinked to the door without passing before the window. Through the keyhole, Moni saw the curly weave atop DCF Agent Tanya Roberts’ head. The keyhole made her face puff up like a black jack-o-lantern. By the look in her eyes, someone had lit that pumpkin’s candle with kerosene. Her fist banged on the door, which shook in Moni’s face.
Moni pulled away and ducked below the keyhole. Would a DCF agent come by on a Saturday morning for a routine checkup on a foster child? She doubted it. Tanya had an issue with her, but Moni couldn’t see why. No one besides Aaron had witnessed her father’s visit last night. As much as he hated her, Moni’s dad wouldn’t confess because that would land him in jail for violating his parole. Maybe Mrs. Mint had bitched some more about how the girl had been making her job too hard—like elementary school teachers ever had it easy, Moni thought. Something like that, she could handle.
The thunder rumbled once more as Moni reached for the doorknob. Tropic yowled from under the table. Moni winced. Her head pounded as the veins in her skull swelled under the pressure of a torrent of blood. She shouldn’t open that door. She should grab Mariella and leave out the back. Digging her fingers into her temples, Moni fought against the pressure triggered by fear.
If I can’t confront a doughy DCF agent, I’ll never save Mariella from those mutants in the lagoon.
Moni swung open the door. She found more than the rotund Tanya Roberts. A six-foot-three carriage of muscle leapt out from behind the cover of the garage. Officer Clyde Harrison dripped with rainwater from his matted black hair to his steely black boots. His uniform clung to his stacked body, and showed off a pair of pecs that powered arms strong enough to snap her neck in a heartbeat. He stared at Moni, but not with any malice or twisted pleasure in his task. She saw subtle sympathy in his eyes. Harrison stood there like a tank ready to steamroll over a village, even if he’d regret it later.
His reluctance didn’t offer Moni any relief. Her headache subsided, but her heart rate ramped up as the unmistakable reality struck her. She had been on the other end of that doorway so many times. Moni had accompanied DCF agents, even Tanya in a few instances, when they removed children from dangerous homes. Sometimes the parents didn’t protest, but that only happened when the parents were junkies or the kids were hell-raisers. In most cases, Moni restrained the enraged parents while the DCF whisked the kids away. A DCF agent would rarely take an officer on a call for any other reason.
Wedged in the doorway with Mariella’s kidnappers facing her, Moni felt like a slippery cork plugging a fire hose.
“Where is she?” Tanya asked. Her voice sounded mighty big with that gorilla at her back.
“Mariella is sleeping. She had a busy night eating pizza with our friend Aaron from the investigation team,” Moni said. “If there’s some kind of problem, we can…”
“I heard through the grapevine that you had another guest last night—one with a rap sheet longer than my arm.” Tanya reached into her shirt pocket and drew out a photo of Bo Williams barging into Moni’s house. Moni’s jaw nearly dropped off her face.
She could argue all she wanted, but she couldn’t refute that photo. Whether against her will or not, she hadn’t prevented her father from encroaching on the vulnerable girl. A cop should have no problem keeping known criminals from taking a seat on the couch besides a child. Her excuses wouldn’t convince a judge otherwise.
Her father’s voice rang inside her head.
“You been fucking up my whole life, you little whore! All you do is screw up!”
“How did you get that?” Moni jutted a trembling finger at the photo. “Who’s been watching me?”
“Sorry, Moni,” Harrison said as he stepped forward. “We can’t let this go on any longer. A lot of lives are at stake here, not just one girl’s.”
“Sounds like Sneed put you up to it,” Moni said.
Harrison didn’t reply. From his expression, he didn’t need to. Sneed had hated Moni’s little arrangement with Mariella from the moment she carried the girl off the boardwalk in that accursed park. Only Moni had prevented that fat oaf from plopping Mariella on his plate under the hot lights of the interrogation room, and tearing out every shred until he found the evidence he hungered for. The girl might never recover from the traumatic reliving of her parents’ gruesome dissections, but Sneed wouldn’t care. As Harrison had said, that little girl was only one life.
Moni spread her elbows out so Tanya couldn’t wedge her walrus-like body through the doorway. “Excuse me!” Tanya said. Moni held firm.
Harrison sighed. “You really want it this way, huh?” He grabbed Moni’s arm and spun her around as easily as a turnstile. Without summoning any rage or noticeable effort, Harrison shrugged off Moni’s squirming against his unrelenting grip.
“Let me go!” She shouted so loud that a hurricane couldn’t drown her out. “Run, Mariella! Run and she’ll never catch you!”
Moni kept watch on the door to Mariella’s room. She didn’t leave. The DCF agent waddled through the house. Scoping out the African war goddess artwork, the black coffee-skinned Tanya snorted as if to say, “You think that owning all this cheap shit makes you a real black woman?”
Tropic hissed at Tanya from underneath the table and flashed his sharp teeth as she halted before the kitchen. She found the hallway to Mariella’s room and jammed it with her flabby hips. Even if Mariella tried making a run for it, she’d lodge in Tanya’s arms and get stuffed into the back of her car.
Moni’s head rumbled as if a thundercloud swept in through her ear. She thought of Sneed screaming at poor Mariella. He wouldn’t stop until she cracked and crumbled. All of the love and trust that Moni had invested so much time in building with the girl would get destroyed forever. Moni would never see her precious Mariella again.
“Stop it!” The scream intensified the throbbing in Moni’s head. No pain concerned her anymore. She reached into the back of her pants and drew her pistol. She bashed Harrison in the temple with its handle. As he staggered
into the wall, Moni slipped free and bolted for Tanya.
Before Tanya realized what had happened to her backup, Moni grabbed the DCF agent by the back of her collar. She heaved her away from the girl’s door. Tanya fell on her ass. Moni aimed her gun square in the middle of the woman’s shocked face. “Back off,” Moni said without a thought about what a serious line she had just crossed. Each raindrop splattering against the windows rattled the painfully swollen recesses of her brain. She ignored it, along with the consequences of seeing this through. She didn’t give a damn about anything besides keeping Mariella out of Sneed’s clutches.
“Girl, have you lost your damn mind?” Tanya bellowed as she scooted away from the gun. Moni’s aim followed her.
“Drop it, or else we’re gonna have a problem here,” Harrison said as he drew his gun on Moni. Blood trickled down his temple from where Moni had struck him. It must take an anvil to knock him out. “I know you love that girl, but you won’t be much use to her with a bullet in your skull.”
Moni thought about taking a dive, and turning the gun on Harrison. Then she asked herself what the hell she was doing; she had already flushed away her career, and bought herself jail time by turning a gun on an officer. She had never even shot at a criminal when she had plenty of reason. If she fired that gun,she’d never see the outside of a cell, or Mariella, again.
“I’m sorry.” Moni lowered her gun and wiped a tear from her eye. “This isn’t who I am.”
Her head pulsed from her relentless headache, which made her involuntarily jerk the gun up once more. Moni flicked its aim away from Tanya, but by then Harrison had barreled halfway across the room. He wouldn’t stop. He plowed into Moni, swatted the gun from her hand and pinned her against the wall.
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