Drawing Fire

by Janice Cantore

  “Still, he made some serious allegations against Gavin Kent. Can I speak to Mr. Kent?”

  Rollins gave an exasperated sigh. “I will ask him. But you have to see how insulting this is. He was a decorated soldier, wounded in battle. And he has been invaluable to me for many years.”

  “Why take the investigation away from the PD?”

  “That was Gavin and Alyssa, overreacting to protect me, I think. I’ve had everything returned. Check with Kelsey Cox. I wanted to clear things up and depart to the capitol on good terms. And I wanted to offer you a job.”

  “A job?” Abby nearly fell out of her chair. This time there was no hiding her shock.

  “Yes. You have a stellar work record, a spotless reputation. I could use you on my personal security detail. You’d be an asset. It’s really no secret that I have all but officially declared I plan on running for the senate. On the national level I will need people I can trust around me. You’d make considerably more money working for me.”

  “I, uh . . .”

  “No need to answer right now. Think about it. I’ll be in town for a few more days. Kelsey Cox can get ahold of me when you have your answer. It’s the least I can do to honor the memory of your parents, take good care of their daughter.” He stood, and Abby realized the audience was over. He’d so flummoxed her with the job offer, she couldn’t organize her thoughts quick enough.

  “Why would Sanders say that my father was still alive?”

  “Ah, that was the cruelest cut of all.” He stepped close to her, and again the essence of his cologne hit her. “My dear, he was trying to get under your skin, to cloud your judgment. Buck Morgan was my best friend, and I’m certain he died that day.” He patted her shoulder and headed for the door. “My office will issue a statement with most of what I’ve just told you, so I’m hoping this puts the story to rest. Please give my offer some thought.” And with that, he was gone.

  ABBY CLIMBED INTO HER CAR, head spinning. Rollins had turned her attempt to blindside him with her interview on its ear. If she had known this meeting would take place, she would have been more prepared. And the job offer—wow. It was as if she were in an episode of The X-Files. Her phone began to ring and she saw that it was Detective Wright.

  “Hello, Fred, what’s up?”

  “Some information I need to share with you and Murphy. Can we meet somewhere? Maybe for coffee or lunch?”

  “Right now?” Abby was not up to seeing Luke or Wright at the moment.

  “It’s important.”

  “Then why not the Seal Beach PD?” At least that would be business.

  “I have sensitive stuff to show you. I’d rather we were at a coffee shop or restaurant. I’m in Seal Beach; is there a place here you prefer?”

  Abby sighed, feeling a hundred years old. “How about River’s End?”

  “Great. I’ll call Murphy and meet you there.”

  “I’m just leaving the station, so I won’t be long.” Abby disconnected and tried to generate some interest or enthusiasm.

  “I’m hoping this puts the story to rest.”

  Not hardly, Abby thought as Rollins’s voice rang in her ears. Sanders told a story that was too plausible to be dismissed so easily. How do you put the genie back in the bottle? How do you find the truth in a maze of lies, liars, and dead men?

  When she arrived at River’s End, Luke was just getting out of his truck. He waited for her.

  “Are you okay? You don’t look happy,” he said.

  She’d gotten over the irritation she felt because he read her so easily. “I just had a one-on-one meeting with Governor Rollins.”

  “What?”

  “Yep.” She pointed to Wright, waiting by the entrance. “I’ll explain to both of you.”

  When they reached the detective, he gestured across the flood control channel to Serenity Park. “That’s where the Triple Seven used to be,” he said to Abby. “Funny you picked this place.”

  Abby cocked her head. “This is my favorite restaurant. I like to look across the way and imagine my folks and their business before the park.”

  “It’s a great park,” Luke said. “I take my daughter there often. What do you think of the plaque?” he asked Abby.

  “I’ve never been to the park.”

  “What?” Luke stared at her as they were shown to a table.

  “I like to imagine, but I’ve never been able to go there and see the reality.”

  Once they were seated, Abby changed the subject and told them about the meeting with the governor.

  “I wish I’d known that he was going to give me the opportunity,” she said as she finished. “I would have been better prepared.”

  “I’m sure he surprised you for just that reason,” Luke observed.

  “This makes what I have to show you all the more important,” Wright said, holding up a manila envelope. He fanned his palm with the envelope. “I got some interesting information from a friend of Luke’s—” he gave Luke a look—“who wishes to remain nameless until we get some hard evidence.” He pulled a photo out of the envelope and handed it to Luke. “Does this guy look familiar?”

  “That’s him—that’s the second man from the flood control. He was wearing the hoodie.” His face was bright with excitement.

  “Wait, catch me up. You’ve identified Luke’s attackers?” Abby asked Detective Wright.

  “With Luke’s friend’s help. The dead man was Gordon West. And now this guy.”

  “How’d you find him? Who is he?” Luke asked.

  “I know him,” Wright said. “He’s an ex-OC deputy. Alonzo Ruiz. He was fired about ten years ago for beating a homeless man to death. It was the first homicide case I handled and one I’ll never forget.”

  “But how’d you find him?” Luke asked again, handing the photo to Abby.

  “Your friend was able to send me a list of known associates for West. I picked Ruiz out right away. The kind of intimidation you experienced was right up his alley. He was acquitted at trial but still lost his job because of his overall bad record.”

  “Has he been causing problems since then?”

  “No, we thought he moved out of state. But there’s more. When I retrieved his files to review, I found something interesting. Gavin Kent was listed on Ruiz’s deputy application as a reference.”

  “Oh, you’re kidding me. What a connection.” Abby smiled.

  “Have you contacted Kent about this?” Luke asked.

  Wright shook his head. “I’m hoping to find a more recent connection. Ruiz graduated from the academy fifteen years ago.”

  Sandy appeared to take their orders. Luke asked for coffee. Abby did the same, and Wright ordered iced tea.

  “So Kent could say he lost contact.” Abby rubbed her temples after Sandy left. “I don’t believe in coincidences. Maybe Sanders was a liar and a cheat, but I’ll bet a paycheck that there was a grain of truth in what he said. I asked Rollins if I could talk to Kent.”

  “That was a good question,” Luke said. “What did he say?”

  “That it would be an insult to the man.”

  “Hmmm,” Wright said. “Then I’d better dig to find a more recent connection. And we’re looking for Ruiz. Every deputy in OC knows him.”

  “Thanks, Fred. I really owe you. I’m not on this case; you don’t need to keep me in the loop.”

  “Hey, if my parents had been in the ground for twenty-seven years and their killers out free, I’d be working just as hard as you to get to the truth.”

  AFTER WRIGHT LEFT to return to work, Abby lingered with Luke in the River’s End parking lot.

  “So who is this friend, the one that helped Fred identify the two men who attacked you?” Excited by the identification but guarded, Abby couldn’t shake the feeling that she was Charlie Brown preparing to kick the football only to have it pulled away.

  “He’s a buddy who works for the FBI. He came to town to offer me a job.”

  “A job? With the FBI?” Abby stepped back.
“I did not see that coming. Don’t you like being your own boss?”

  “Yes, I do, but he made me an interesting offer. I’d be on a federal task force, working on cold cases.”

  Abby folded her arms and held his gaze. “Helping people like us?”

  He nodded and smiled, and Abby’s heart raced a bit. “Yep,” he said. “Helping them find closure.”

  At that she laughed mirthlessly and kicked at some sand in the lot. “I’ve always believed that finding killers helps people affected by murder move on, heal.”

  “You don’t believe that anymore?”

  “I don’t know what to believe anymore. I thought I could solve my parents’ murders, but the closer I get, the further away the solution seems.”

  She looked back into his eyes, and for a moment she feared he was going to reach out and touch her hand. He understood. He knew what she was going through, and none of it was a mystery to him.

  She looked away. “I’d like to hear more about—” Her phone rang. “It’s Woody,” she said as she answered. “Hi, I was—”

  Woody cut her off, sounding rushed and panicked. “Where are you?”

  Abby frowned. “River’s End.”

  “Thank God you’re close. Get over to the governor’s house, now.”

  Abby leaned forward, tense. “What is it?”

  “It’s Asa. He’s gone and he’s planning something stupid.”

  “Like what? Should I call 911?”

  “No! I think I can handle it. But you’re closer than I am. I’m in the car now. Meet me there.” The tone of his voice sent a shiver up Abby’s spine. He ended the call.

  “What is it?” Luke asked.

  “I have to go. Sorry to leave—”

  “No way you’re leaving me, not with that look on your face.”

  “Fine, I don’t want to argue.” She turned. “Just get in my car. I’ll explain on the way.”

  “IF THE GOVERNOR is here, I’m sure he has security,” Luke said after Abby told him what Woody said. “How can Asa expect to get anywhere near him?”

  “If he’s drunk, he’s likely to go over there and make a fool of himself. And in the past, Rollins has kept his security detail light when home. He only ramps things up during election times or if there’s a protest going on about something.” Abby darted through traffic, traveling as fast as she dared.

  She turned on Second Street, headed for the Naples area of Long Beach. She knew where the governor lived because once or twice there had been alerts to watch for protesters for one issue or another. He had a big house on Sixty-Fourth Place, right near the water. It was a nice place, and in spite of being on the peninsula where the houses were crowded together, it was sort of private because people had to know how to get there. There was one confusing way in and one way out.

  When Abby turned from Bay Shore to Ocean Boulevard, she stepped on it. She didn’t think Asa had a rental car, so he had to be in one of Woody’s cars. She looked for his truck or his Saturn sedan as she got closer. Sixty-Fourth Place, where the governor lived, was little more than a block long, and this part of Long Beach was on the peninsula, so the street ended at the sand.

  She arrived at Sixty-Fourth Place and slowed. When she turned, there was Woody’s beat-up Saturn right in front of the governor’s house parked at the red curb. Next to the Saturn in the middle of the street, emergency lights flashing, was a dark sedan with a state license plate indicating it probably belonged to the governor’s security detail. It was empty and the driver’s door stood open.

  “What is going on?” Abby said, half to herself. She parked behind the Saturn and turned to Luke as she pulled her off-duty 9mm from her purse.

  He spoke before she could. “Don’t say it. I’m coming in with you.”

  “I don’t know what’s happening. I think you should stay here and give me a chance to find out.”

  Luke shook his head and Abby saw a steadfast resolve in his eyes. Worry about what Asa had planned lessened as she soaked in the knowledge that she could count on Luke no matter what.

  She opened her car door.

  They both started for the front entrance. The entryway was right on the street. In this neighborhood the houses had no yards. What made it exclusive was the proximity of the ocean and the fact it was on the peninsula.

  Abby saw quickly that the door was ajar. She turned to Luke. “I don’t know. I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “Me too.” He peered over her shoulder, and she turned in time to see Woody’s battered pickup come careening around the corner and screech to a stop behind her car.

  He jumped out and ran toward them. “Where’s Asa?”

  “I don’t know. Inside, I guess. The security car is empty.”

  “We have to stop him,” he yelled as he pushed past Luke into the house.

  Abby followed with Luke on her heels.

  LUKE HURRIED to keep up with Abby. She’d flown past him after Woody. The fact that they were both armed did not escape his notice. But he’d always been quicker with his wits than with a gun, so he just prayed to the Lord for protection and wisdom.

  The inside of the house looked like a museum. There were glass cases everywhere—books, collectibles, and assorted photos in them. Woody seemed to know just where he was going, and Abby stayed close to him while Luke followed her. They’d gotten through the entryway and entered what looked like a den when they heard voices.

  “I won’t keep your secret any longer.”

  “You’re a crazy drunk. No one will believe anything you say.”

  “They will if you shoot that gun,” Woody said. He’d stepped into a double doorway and moved to the right. Abby followed and Luke heard her gasp.

  The scene before him made Luke hold his breath. Kent and another man both had their guns trained on Asa. The shock was that Asa had a woman in front of him, holding her like a human shield, with a gun to her head. He recognized the woman as Kelsey Cox. Asa also had what looked like a vest of road flares around his chest. He was sweating bullets, and Cox’s eyes bugged out in terror.

  “Asa, what are you doing? Stop this!” Abby pleaded as she knelt partially behind a couch. Luke slid in behind her.

  “See what you stirred up?” Kent screamed at Abby. “The psycho nutbags crawled out of the woodwork because of the interview you gave the other day.”

  Asa shifted. “Tell her! You killed her mother and then tried to kill her! I don’t care what you do to me; just tell the truth!”

  “This isn’t the way to get to the truth,” Woody pleaded with his friend from behind the cover of a high-back chair. “Let Cox go.”

  “You just wouldn’t stop,” Kent fumed, his rage directed toward Abby, not Asa. “You wouldn’t stop opening doors that should have stayed closed.”

  “It’s my job to close homicides with an arrest.”

  The atmosphere in the room shifted as a frost settled over the space between Kent and Abby, and for a minute it seemed everyone forgot Asa, except the security guy. Luke saw the man steady his aim at Asa while Woody and Abby concentrated on Kent.

  “Your job is to do as you’re told. But like your father, you just don’t listen.” Kent grated the words out through clenched teeth. Luke could almost see steam coming out of the man’s ears. Luke crawled along the back of the couch to get closer to Asa, hoping to remove Cox and defuse the situation. He prayed that the security man didn’t shoot.

  “Is that what happened that day? He didn’t listen?”

  Luke stopped at the decisive tone in Abby’s voice. Something was going to happen.

  “No, he didn’t.” Kent stepped from the doorway he was using as cover. “Is that what you want to hear? He was a bloody hothead and he just wouldn’t listen!”

  Luke pulled his legs up under himself, preparing to jump into action, when suddenly Cox elbowed Asa and lurched forward. The room exploded in gunfire—from the security man and Asa, he thought—and shattering glass.

  Luke ducked, covering his head with his
hands, and all he could think was Abby. Was she out of the line of fire?

  It seemed an eternity before he felt it was safe to raise his head. When he did, Kent was gone, and Luke caught a glimpse of Abby, disappearing through the doorway where Kent had been.

  “Oh, Lord.” He breathed a prayer and leaped to his feet, preparing to go after her.

  Asa was moaning, and the security man was tending to Cox. Luke took a step toward the door and froze.

  Woody was down.

  ABBY NEVER DUCKED. She zeroed in on Kent, aware of glass flying and ignoring her own personal safety. All she could see was Kent’s fleeing back. He disappeared through the door and she charged after him. Down a long hallway, he went through another door, heading toward the back of the house, the beach side, Abby guessed. She couldn’t imagine where he thought he was going to go; they were on a peninsula, for heaven’s sake. She accelerated as Kent led her through a maze of rooms, and suddenly she was in the kitchen.

  A stunned woman leaned against the sink as if she’d just been shoved there.

  “Where?” Abby yelled and the woman pointed.

  Out the back door Abby ran, squinting when she stepped into the sunlight. She looked left and saw Kent jump over a retaining wall and hit the wooden boardwalk that ran along the beach, between the houses and the sand. He landed wrong, stumbled, and cursed before he got up and limped away toward the street, circling back to where the cars were. Abby hurried after him, adrenaline taking her over the wall easily. She hit the wooden boardwalk at a run.

  “Stop, Kent! You’re not getting away!”

  He came to a curb where the street and the boardwalk met and looked over his shoulder, a mocking grin on his face. As he turned back, he tripped over the curb, sprawling into the street and cursing as he slid.

  Breath coming hard, fury her fuel, Abby reached the man and pointed her weapon. “Stay right there. You’re under arrest.”

  He writhed on the asphalt and rolled over to face her, gun still in his hand. “Or what? You’ll put me out of my misery? Go ahead, I dare you.”