Avenged

by Janice Cantore

  CARLY SLEPT for about six hours and then met Andrea for dinner. She declared the subject of Ginny Masters off-limits, leaning on an academy training principle that officers were targets, but they were to react professionally to taunts and name-calling. She’d faced angry crowds before and heard many aspersions tossed her way. This was no different, and she’d have to leave Ginny Masters—and Dean Barton, for that matter—in the locker room with her uniform. Don’t take it personally.

  “Agent Wiley came to talk to you twice in person?” Andrea raised an eyebrow and looked at Carly. “He wants you on that task force.”

  “Well, the second time he came to ask about Trey and the guns.”

  “Still.”

  “It would be a great opportunity, an exciting gig, but . . .”

  “Nick.”

  “Don’t say it that way. I already feel like I don’t get enough time with him. Especially with him being on gangs now. And he’s adjusted his weaponless defense schedule not to interfere with our time together. How can I take a job that will take me away from him more often?”

  “It wouldn’t be forever. Has he said he doesn’t want you to take it?”

  “No, but we’ve only had a short time to sit and talk about it. The truth is, I don’t know what I want—much less what he wants. I would have been happy to work with Joe in a black-and-white forever.” Carly drained her coffee and then refilled it from the carafe on the table.

  “You have time. You don’t have to decide right now.”

  “That’s true. By the way, when do you think Alex will be home?” she asked as the waitress set dessert in front of them. They were at Ruby’s on the end of the Huntington Beach pier. Every so often, the floor shuddered as an ocean swell rolled beneath them.

  Andrea gave a long-suffering sigh. “I hope soon. I miss him. But his dad is really having a difficult time coping with the loss. Alex is afraid he’ll hurt himself the first chance he gets.”

  “Has he thought about moving his dad down here?”

  “Briefly, but he’s never been close to his dad, so—” she shrugged—“he’s just at a loss.”

  Carly smiled.

  “What?”

  “You really like him, don’t you?”

  Andrea did something Carly couldn’t remember ever seeing her do: she blushed. “I do; I do. I never, ever thought I could like any guy this much.” She put her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands. “There’s never any games with Alex. He says what he thinks. I never have to guess with him or . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  Carly finished for her. “Play games yourself?”

  Andi laughed. “You know me too well. Guys used to be a game for me, just a way to pass the time.” The smile faded. “I don’t want to toy with Alex, and it’s scary.”

  “Don’t worry,” Carly said with a wave of her hand. “If he hurts you, I’ll just shoot him, and he knows that.”

  They both burst out laughing and then finished their meal.

  •••

  Carly saw Nick briefly on Friday, when he came home around 3 a.m., slept for a couple of hours, then showered and left again. They’d discovered that besides offices on the coast, Oceans First also had an office in Arizona, so his trip to Arizona was confirmed. The ATF was set to serve warrants on the Phoenix office, and he was going along for the ride. He wouldn’t be back until late Saturday but planned to be at church on Sunday.

  There was movement on the protestor front as well. An appeals court judge had ruled for the city and given the okay to evict them from the park. The city and the PD were now working to determine how to evict them in a manner that would lessen the chance of violent confrontation. Carly and her shift had been given notice that they might be called in on overtime to assist.

  “Things have been quiet in Las Playas as far as the gang stuff is concerned,” Nick said over coffee before he left Friday.

  Carly had been listening to her radio and had come to that conclusion herself. She was glad Nick agreed.

  “But Harris told me that the coroner has released Rojo and D.’s bodies for burial. One funeral is set for Sunday, the other for sometime next week, so we may have problems then. Jacobs has canceled all holidays and unscheduled vacation, anticipating needing extra hands for both the eviction and the funeral. Have you thought any more about your next career move?”

  Carly shook her head. “No, I’ve been trying not to think about work this weekend.” She told him about Wiley’s second visit.

  “They want you,” he said with a tilt of his head. “You should be flattered.”

  She studied him, still not able to read him. “I am, I guess. But that makes it hard to say no.”

  “Are you sure you want to say no? I’ve been thinking a lot about it. Since I’m working with the feds on an impromptu task force, I’m getting a small taste of what they’re offering you.”

  Carly raised her eyebrows. “Do you want me to take it?”

  Now she saw conflicted emotions cross his face. “I still need to read the information. At first, I would have said no because it would mean a lot of time away from home. But if the shoe were on the other foot, I’d jump at the opportunity. Everything you do with them will be cutting-edge. It won’t be a permanent gig in any event. Bottom line, I want my wife to be happy and certain that she’s where God wants her.”

  “Aw . . .” She grabbed him in a hug, loving the feel of his strong arms around her. “I don’t know what I want. Thanks for reminding me to pray for what God wants. I did pick up some flyers for detective division openings.”

  “Really?” His face registered surprise. “So that’s something you’re considering as well?”

  “Yeah, my incredibly intelligent and good-looking husband made the suggestion, and after I considered it, I decided it was a good one.”

  He took her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed her palm. “Whatever you choose, it’s time. You need a change. Which openings are you looking at?”

  “I picked up three flyers. We can talk about it on Sunday.”

  He nodded and looked at his watch. “Sorry to be leaving again, but I am learning so much from the feds. This experience has been very illuminating.”

  “Since you like it so much, are you thinking of going federal?” Carly asked.

  “No, I love working in Las Playas. But I will take the next lieutenant test when it comes around. I like the idea of running the whole show. I think I could do a good job.”

  “I know you could.”

  He smiled the smile that always melted her heart. “Walk me out?”

  Together they walked to the front door, arms around one another. At the door they shared a tight hug, and then Nick prayed for both of them and the investigation. Carly added prayers for safety and wisdom.

  “I love you,” Nick whispered in her ear.

  Carly watched his car until it disappeared from view, feeling his warm breath on her ear for the rest of the day.

  •••

  Friday was Carly’s swim class day at the Y. She was a little apprehensive this particular Friday because the eight ten-year-olds in her class were from gang neighborhoods. They were almost entirely divided between Ninjas and Playboyz.

  But thankfully the ten-year-olds were more interested in the water than in any gang disputes. And she had unexpected help: Londy showed up in his bathing suit. He was talking to Mary Ellen when Carly arrived. She was used to seeing Mary Ellen at the Y; the girl was required to do a certain number of hours of supervised community service as part of her conditions of probation and fulfilled some of them by helping with a senior citizens’ water class. But Londy was a surprise—welcome, but a surprise nonetheless.

  The children were doing well. They could float, swim one lap across the pool, hold their breath underwater, and do reasonable dives from one knee. Most important to Carly, they were all having fun and they weren’t afraid of the water. The boys respected Londy, and his help and encouragement brought some big smiles. When they were
finished, Carly decided to thank him with lunch, and she asked Mary Ellen to join them.

  “Thanks, Officer Edwards,” Londy said as they hopped into Carly’s car for the trip to Taco Surf. No matter what Carly said, she couldn’t get Londy to call her anything but officer.

  “Thank you for showing up today. Those kids loved your help.”

  “I like kids. That was fun. I’m trying to get Victor, Crusher’s little brother, to come learn to swim.” He looked out the window.

  Carly could tell something else was on his mind, but she’d learned that Londy usually had to work up to what he had to say. He was always thoughtful, always thorough. She figured chips and salsa would loosen his tongue.

  “I like helping at the Y,” Mary Ellen said. “It’s the best part of my community service. It’s not work; it’s fun.”

  Once they were seated and eating their tacos and chips, Carly nudged Londy. “So what’s on your mind? You worried about the funerals? Crusher?”

  He gave a small smile. “You can tell I’m worried?”

  “Sure, I’m a trained observer. What’s up?”

  “I am worried about the funerals. I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt. And Crusher . . .well, he’s doing better.” He looked at Mary Ellen.

  She smiled. “They did surgery to stop the bleeding in his head and it worked. He’s getting better, and they hope he’ll wake up.”

  “Really? That’s good news.” Carly felt a little guilty that she’d been so busy she hadn’t taken the time to check up on Crusher, and she was surprised to hear good news. At least she hoped it was good news. Crusher would never be the same, no matter what.

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Londy said. “I’ve been talking to Victor a lot. I figure the little brother would know what Crusher was up to more than the mama would, you know?”

  Carly nodded, remembering her encounter with the ten-year-old. “I met Victor.”

  “Here’s the thing: he wants to be a Ninja. Always wearing the colors. I tell him it’s bad, but he don’t listen. He claims he knows who shot Crusher and he’s gonna kill ’em.”

  14

  “WHAT?” Carly set her taco down and pushed the plate away. Londy was serious, and she assumed Victor was too.

  “Victor copies everything Crusher does. Even when Crusher wouldn’t let him, he followed him around. He saw Crusher talking with some dudes.”

  “Back up, Londy. When was this?”

  “About a week before he was shot. Victor says Crusher left the house late at night, and he followed him to the train. They both got on and rode to where it ends at the transit mall. Then Crusher walked down to Seaside, to where there’s a building all fenced off. I figure he meant the Bluestone. Anyway, he squeezed through a hole in the fence and Victor followed. Crusher was all by himself; he didn’t even have Rojo with him. He met these guys who gave him drugs to sell. Victor heard one of them tell Crusher he didn’t want Trey or anyone knowing. And he heard the guy asking if he was sure no one knew he was coming to the meeting.”

  “Did Victor tell you what the guy looked like?”

  Londy nodded and then shifted in his chair, all of a sudden looking uncomfortable. “There were three guys, all white dudes. One dude never said anything, and Victor didn’t get a very good look at him. The other two . . . well, one had a beard and the third . . .”

  “What, Londy? What did the other guy look like?”

  “You know how in the Bible it says not to falsely accuse people? I didn’t see this; I’m just saying what Victor said. The third guy . . . well, Victor said he was ugly, that his face was scarred and his ear half–chewed off. That could be Mr. Barton’s brother.”

  Carly brought a hand to her mouth, as much from shock as to keep from saying something she shouldn’t. That Dean Barton could be giving kids drugs to sell didn’t surprise her. That there was a possibility he killed two kids did. But she had to stop. What if this was just wishful thinking on her part? She thought of the man who’d been waiting for Barton at the white van the first night she saw him. He had a beard, and she remembered now that he’d looked familiar. But she hadn’t really gotten a good look at him.

  She changed her line of questioning. “Why does Victor think these guys who were giving his brother drugs are the same ones who shot him?”

  “Because they shot Rojo and D., too. Victor thinks Crusher told Rojo and D. something he wasn’t supposed to and the white dudes shot them all.”

  Carly considered his logic, or rather the logic Londy was relating that came from a ten-year-old boy. Why would these men pick someone like Crusher from the Ninjas in Las Playas to sell drugs for them and then insist it be kept secret from the rest of the gang? And then when Crusher lets something slip, they shoot three gang members? It’s plausible they’d try to cover up the murder by making it look like a gang shooting. But in covering it up, they also wanted to start a gang war? She rubbed her temples. None of this made sense. She was missing something important.

  Lunch turned into an interview as Carly grilled Londy for every bit of information he’d gotten from Victor.

  “Did Victor say how long Crusher knew these guys?” Carly struggled to remember her last contact with Crusher and realized he’d been under the radar for a while, maybe two or three months.

  “I asked him that. He said Crusher’s been squirrelly for about a month—you know, disappearing till early in the morning, then showing up with cash. He gave Victor an iPod Touch. Only Victor can’t show it to his mom ’cause she don’t want nothing in the house that was bought with drug money.”

  “How did Crusher meet them?”

  Londy shook his head. “Don’t know. Victor says he tried a couple of times to follow Crusher and got caught or ditched.”

  Carly finished her Diet Coke and thought for a minute. “Someone from gangs will have to talk to him,” she told Londy.

  “He don’t like police. He won’t talk. He wants to take Crusher’s place in the gang, thinks it will make him a man.”

  Carly knew thinking like that was prevalent in Victor’s neighborhood. And she remembered his attitude when she had him in the back of the patrol car.

  “We’ve both tried to talk to him,” Mary Ellen spoke up. She’d been so quiet Carly had almost forgotten she was there. “I’ve spent time with his two sisters. But the gang call is so strong for Victor. He thinks it’s his job to get revenge for Crusher. It’s very sad.”

  “Sounds like you both have spent a lot of time with the family.”

  Heads nodded. “We want Crusher to wake up,” Londy said.

  “We have his little brothers and sisters write letters—you know, about what’s going on in their lives,” Mary Ellen continued. “As soon as we can, we want to read the letters to him.”

  “They’ll let you in to read to him?”

  “Yeah,” Londy said. “His mom gave us permission. We’re both over eighteen, so since Tuesday we’ve been able to visit and talk to him. We pray, too. This morning I asked him to squeeze my hand and I think he did. He’ll wake up soon; I know it.” He cast a glance at Mary Ellen, who was watching him with undisguised affection.

  Carly processed their look. She certainly hadn’t seen that coming.

  “We think God will heal Crusher. He’s alive for a reason,” Mary Ellen said. “He’ll wake up. And I bet he’ll tell us who shot him.”

  Her tone was full of youthful optimism. But Carly remembered the shooting scene, remembered how she’d had to stop Crusher’s bleeding, and was hard-pressed to muster the same optimism.

  •••

  After Carly dropped Londy and Mary Ellen off, she parked and called Peter Harris in homicide. She wanted to call Nick and almost punched in his number, but he was working with the feds and she didn’t want to interrupt whatever they were doing.

  Harris was in, and he listened while she relayed what Londy told her.

  “I remember Victor,” he said. “Londy is right; he doesn’t like cops. He took the sh
ooting the hardest, really wants to be his brother’s avenger. We’ll go back out there and talk to him, but I doubt he’ll tell us what he told Londy. But you should know that we just had a bomb threat callout.”

  “What?”

  “At your coffee shop, Half Baked. Bomb guys rolled out there about an hour ago.”

  •••

  Carly rushed to the coffee shop, only to be stopped a block away. Barriers surrounded the large black van used as the command post and kept traffic off Broadway. She leaned out of her car window and spoke to the officer at the barrier.

  “They evacuated this far out?”

  He nodded. “It was the real deal, not some bogus, fake device. One of the coffee shop owners found a bomb wired to the safe in the office. I think it’s all code 4 now. There’s just some cleanup left. I can’t let you drive in until I get the all clear, but if you want to walk to the command post, I’m sure that would be okay.”

  She thanked him and parked her car. The command post was a block away from Apex Court, and Carly saw Ned and Erika standing outside. There were also several agents with ATF in big yellow letters across their jackets milling around.

  “Hey,” she called out to Ned.

  He saw her. “Carly, thanks for coming by.”

  “What happened?”

  Ned and Erika exchanged a glance. “I found the device,” Ned said. “I worked in bomb disposal in the service, so I knew immediately what it was.”

  “It would have taken out the whole shop,” Erika said, grabbing Ned’s hand. “Ned’s not the one who usually opens the safe. If I had . . .” Her voice thickened and she stopped.

  Carly folded her arms, stunned. “First the newspaper stand, now this. What? Who?”

  “It was Dean; I know it.” Erika spit the words out.

  “That would be my guess as well, but we can’t prove it,” Ned said with a heavy sigh.

  “You told the bomb guys?”

  “Yeah, even though part of me knows it was him, another part of me can’t believe it. We had a falling-out the other day, right after I told you we were working things out. We’ve had our differences, but I’d really hoped Dean had changed.” He shook his head sadly. “Obviously not if he was trying to murder me and anyone else in close proximity. And in Iraq, there was always a secondary device, so I asked the bomb guys to do a thorough inspection of the entire area. I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of our feud.”