Worth Killing For

by Jane Haseldine

  “Where are you? Helen is trying to teach me how to make pancakes for your boys and it’s not going well,” Navarro answered.

  “Ben called me. I know it sounds crazy, but everything he said, I almost believe it’s my brother. Jesus, Ray. Maybe he’s still alive.”

  “Hold on,” Navarro said. Julia heard muffled movement as if Navarro was putting his hand over his phone until he could get out of earshot from her children, and then came back on the line. “Are you in your car?”

  “Yes. I’m about half an hour from Stinson Trail. That’s where I’m supposed to meet the person who called me.”

  “Where on the trail?”

  “The meet-up spot is a playground a quarter mile off the trail by the second parking lot. You can access it from the service road. If the caller is my brother, I need to meet him alone. That’s what he said.”

  “Pull over. Don’t go any farther. Not yet. You wait for me.”

  “Ben told me to come alone.”

  “And now you’re referring to the caller as Ben. Why aren’t you listening to your instincts? You’re so much smarter than that. Someone is setting you up. It’s a trap to get to Duke.”

  “I’ve thought of all that already. But there were some things the caller said that only Ben and I knew about.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Julia replayed in her head her short conversation with the person on the phone and started to second-guess herself.

  “I’m pretty sure.”

  “I’m calling Russell. I don’t think he left for the restaurant yet, where we’re supposed to meet up. He lives near Stinson Trail. If you care about me at all, you won’t go there alone. Shit, you’re breaking up. Can you hear me?”

  “Ray?” Julia answered. But the call had dropped.

  Julia hung up the phone and pictured Logan and Will laughing in her kitchen earlier that morning, her two little boys huddled together over the kitchen island, a testament to the good life she now had and a reminder of the responsibility she owed to her children.

  When she reached the sign to Stinson Trail, Julia’s mind was made up. She pulled over and texted Navarro, letting him know she would wait for him or Russell in the parking lot. She wouldn’t meet the caller, who claimed to be Ben, without them.

  She veered her SUV onto the service road and noticed two orange construction cones that looked like they had previously blocked the main road but had been moved to the side to let cars through. Julia drove forward and then hooked her way onto the service road that flanked the jogging path, which she used to run before the parks-and-rec department had closed off the park and trail due to heavy flooding earlier that summer. Julia pulled into the empty parking lot and an uneasiness slithered around her and nestled uncomfortably around her shoulders as she realized she was completely and utterly alone without another soul in sight.

  * * *

  The park worker took a long swig from his Dunkin’ Donuts coffee cup and reached in the store’s white paper bag with its trademark orange-and-pink lettering for his bounty: a double-chocolate-dip donut, his first course before he started on the egg white flatbread, tasteless crap. But even if he took a couple of bites of it after his real breakfast, he could tell the wife that he had eaten what he promised her he would as he walked out the door of their aging 1960s ranch just a half hour earlier. Sharing a select, small portion of the truth was better than telling a complete lie, Roger Bellows thought, as he pulled his work van, with the CITY OF ROCHESTER HILLS PARKS DEPARTMENT logo keenly displayed on both sides of the vehicle, onto the service road and his latest mess.

  The Stinson Park and Trail project had become a colossal pain in his ass. Roger was Second Supervisor Grade II for the department, and the maintenance and repair work was his cross to bear since the usually popular jogging spot, picnic area, and playground had gotten doused from an especially heavy rain in the early summer. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The daily deluge that went on for a good week had caused a wild cascade of mud and dozens of downed trees that now littered the park.

  Roger scooted the van to the right to miss colliding into a massive red oak tree, which looked like an abandoned fallen soldier as the once-eighty-foot beauty now lay on its side, halfway across the service road. Roger felt an annoyance prickle up his neck as he licked the remnants of the sticky donut off his fingers and thought about his useless brother-in-law, Tim, whose maintenance division was responsible for cleaning up the mess. But Tim and his crew were three weeks behind schedule, and Roger was catching hell for it, since his boss reamed him out on a daily basis that the parks were supposed to be up and ready for summer. Roger knew his brother-in-law’s crew was intentionally working one speed, butt-ass slow, to finish the project. Roger knew a time clock for many regular Joes working for the city was both something to be dreaded, but also something to be milked.

  “Who the hell moved the cones?” Roger asked aloud as he pulled into the entrance to the park and felt righteous indignation that someone had the balls to move certified parks department property from its proper place and could endanger the public.

  Roger got out of the van and figured some kids looking for a place to drink or have sex moved the cones to find a secluded spot to get wasted or laid or both.

  Roger whistled Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again” and started to move the orange cones back in place, when he noticed an older-model white van, with its nose jutting out from behind the restrooms. This was a violation on a grand twofer scale. No one was ever allowed to touch the cones, let alone drive inside the park, unless they carried a parks-and-rec badge, something Roger had proudly kept snapped to his front pants pocket since he started working the job after graduating from junior college fifteen years earlier.

  Roger didn’t bother with the cones yet, since he’d have to replace them after he got the van out, and instead made his way toward the restrooms and the illegally parked vehicle.

  As he neared, he could see the van had an old, weathered white paint job and lacked side windows. The front license plate was caked in dirt, but he could make out its first three letters and could see from the SHOW ME STATE logo at the bottom that the van was from Missouri.

  Roger approached the driver-side door, but moved around toward the back of the van when he heard the passenger door open and then slam shut.

  Roger pushed back his shoulders as he rounded the back of the van and came face-to-face with a giant six-foot-six man with a nasty scar that looked like a crescent moon that started at the corner of his eye and trailed down in a rough semicircle until it reached the center of his left jawline.

  Roger took a step back and pointed to his parks-and-rec badge clipped to his hip.

  “You the guy who moved the orange cones?” Roger asked.

  “I had to go to the bathroom,” the giant man said. “I didn’t realize that was a crime. I’ll be on my way then.”

  “Hmmm-hmmm. I’m going to have to write up a report about this. Going to need your license and plate number,” Roger said as he tried to sound tough. He turned around to head back to his van to get his clipboard, and thought about the two bites of chocolate donut waiting for him, when a thick arm latched around his chest and something razor-sharp that felt like a wire snapped around his throat.

  Roger fumbled backward against the weight of the man who felt like a block of solid cement, and Roger’s arms and legs paddled in the air as the wire got tighter. Roger heard a high-pitched wheeze come out of his mouth and felt a slick of wet coat the nape of his parks-and-rec shirt as the wire sliced through his skin.

  The bright morning sunlight seemed to fade and felt cold as it touched his body as the big man gave one last mighty squeeze and Roger heard something pop in the center of his throat. Roger lolled on his back as his attacker released him, and he felt his body being dragged over to a tree, where the man propped him up against its trunk.

  In his last fifteen seconds of his life, Roger watched as the big man snatched his parks-and-rec badge from the outside o
f Roger’s pants pocket and then pulled out a small camera from his blue jeans. The big man waited a few seconds until it seemed as though he had caught his moment, like a true artist waiting to capture an image at the exact moment when the lighting was perfect, and snapped a picture just as Roger took his last breath.

  * * *

  Ahote looked down at the badge of the man he had just killed and then dragged the body over to the parks-and-rec van and dumped it in the rear of the vehicle.

  The morning was not going at all how Ahote had planned, he realized. He sized up the city van and then got inside. He eased the driver seat back as far as it would go and felt a strange shudder move through him as a blue sedan circled the lot. The car had a single occupant inside, a man with dark hair, cut short, probably in his late thirties. The two made eye contact for a split second and a hollow hum reverberated through Ahote as the car shot out of the parking lot and shuttled down the service road until it was out of sight.

  The big Indian closed his eyes, drinking in the spirit of the park worker, but felt cheated over the quickie. To take another soul, the devotion of the sacrifice took time, like the delicious tease of foreplay before the final act. But Ahote knew he was on the payroll of a new boss and time couldn’t be wasted.

  Ahote noticed a City of Rochester Hills Parks Department dark green hat on the passenger seat. He picked it up and put it on. The hat fit snugly on his large head, but it was a convincing prop, like his new decoy vehicle as he waited for the Julia woman.

  Ahote’s new boss was smarter than Max Mueller had been and installed a listening bug behind the dashboard of Julia’s car. The bug was a stopgap until they could hack into her cell phone and also allowed them to listen into her side of the conversation with Navarro that morning, which tipped them off that she planned to go to the park alone.

  Ahote looked out at the service road and thought about the hell he had caught for not picking up Julia’s sister from the parking garage. He had waited for an hour, but she had been a no-show, and now the Sarah person was missing. Ahote realized he couldn’t make another mistake this time. He had to deliver Julia or his hard-earned status as a “closer” would be lost forever.

  Ahote pulled out a Camel cigarette from a pack inside his shirt pocket and wondered if Julia could satisfy the want that still ached in his chest from not being able to take her brother’s soul, and he swore that one way or another, he would have hers. His large black eyes blinked heavily as a black Crown Victoria pulled into the lot, driven by a bald man wearing dark aviator sunglasses.

  The morning was going to shit, he realized. The man in the Crown Vic was definitely not part of the plan.

  * * *

  Julia nearly jumped when her phone rang on her SUV’s inner console and she hurried to answer it.

  “Julia, it’s Russell. Ray called me. I’m just pulling into the other side of the park by the pond.”

  “That’s where I’m supposed to meet someone.”

  “Besides a city park van, there’s no one here to meet. There was a sedan that pulled in for a second and then left right when I got into the lot. A guy younger than me with short, dark hair. He left too quickly for me to get the plate number, though. You want me to meet you?”

  “Stay put. I’ll drive over to you,” Julia said.

  Julia pulled back on the service road and made a loop around the trail. As she approached Russell’s unmarked Crown Victoria, she saw the parks-and-rec vehicle and its driver, who looked like he was on a break and reading a magazine that was in front of his face.

  Julia pulled up next to Russell so their cars were side by side and then texted Navarro to let him know that she had met up with his partner at the other end of the park.

  “Lovely morning, Gooden. Did you bring coffee?” Russell called out from his passenger window. Julia smiled as she got out of her car and headed over to Russell just as the city van’s engine roared to life. Julia turned her head in the direction of the van as a shot rang out from the van’s direction and Russell’s front window exploded.

  “Shit, Julia, get down!” Russell called out. He scrambled over the broken glass on the seat and pulled himself out of the passenger-side door next to Julia.

  Julia grabbed Russell’s hand and the two dove for cover by the nose of Julia’s vehicle, the farthest spot away from the open road and the oncoming van.

  Russell held his gun between his hands and fired off a shot, but the van barreled toward them like a runaway freight train gone off the tracks.

  The sound of an approaching vehicle’s car horn let out three long and angry blasts as Julia realized someone else had entered the service road and was heading in their direction.

  The city van screeched to a fast stop directly behind Julia’s car, and Julia watched as Russell quickly ducked around the nose of her SUV and fired his weapon again.

  Russell then dodged back behind Julia’s vehicle for cover. “There’s another car. It’s not Ray. It’s another SUV, a big black one with tinted windows. Looks like a Ford Explorer.”

  Julia froze as she heard a door of the city van open. She crouched low and looked under her car, where she spotted two large dirty work boots exiting the driver-side door of the parks-and-rec van and landing on the pavement.

  A series of rapid-fire bursts of gunshots snapped off from the newly arrived Explorer, and Julia kept watch from under her car as the big work boots scrambled back inside the van.

  “Stay down, Julia. The new company could be the guy in the van’s backup.”

  Russell broke loose from the cover of Julia’s SUV one more time and shot at the van as it started up and then tore down the service road toward the park exit.

  Julia ducked her head up quickly to spot the Explorer spin out to a perfect stop and the driver-side window opened halfway.

  Russell caught his breath and then positioned himself on the edge of Julia’s SUV.

  “Stay in your vehicle and put your hands where I can see them,” Russell warned.

  “Hold on, no one needs to get hurt here. Julia, you need to come with me. You got set up. It was a trap. I thought you were smarter than that.”

  Julia got up from her crouching position behind her own vehicle to see her father staring at her from inside the Explorer, all cool and relaxed after a gunfight, with his dark glasses on.

  “Who the hell is this guy?” Russell asked.

  “He’s my dad,” Julia said. She stood up with angry fists held at her side. “Duke, this police officer is a close friend. If you dare try and hurt him in any way, I swear, I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life making you regret it.”

  “I have nothing but the gravest of respect for the police. I just came here for my daughter,” Duke said. “But if I hadn’t shown up when I did, I can guarantee your friend here wouldn’t be alive right now, and you’d be locked up in the back of that van that just left with a monster. Get in the car. You want to know the truth? I’m the only one who can give it to you.”

  “You’re a liar, and you’re the person who tried to set me up. My father is a fugitive, Russell. He needs to be taken into custody,” Julia said.

  “You’re really going to make me do this, aren’t you? Okay. If that’s what everyone wants, I’ll come out of the car, nice and easy, no one gets hurt. Easy, easy,” Duke said, his voice sounding smooth and warm.

  Duke seemed to glide out of the car, all the while smiling at Russell, with his killer-watt, electric welcome.

  “I’m unarmed, Officer. As you can see, I left my gun on the driver seat of my vehicle. So sorry about this mix-up. I can’t tell you how glad I am to finally meet a friend of my daughter’s, and thank you for looking out for her. I’m Duke Gooden,” Julia’s father said as he continued his dead-on, confident approach with his hands raised in a surrender gesture.

  “What’s going on here, Julia?” Russell asked. He shot Julia a quick look, giving Duke the fraction of a second that he needed. Duke grabbed Russell’s gun hand and then spun him around, knockin
g his weapon from his hand. Duke then quickly attached a pair of handcuffs around Russell’s wrists like a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it Houdini trick.

  “Sorry about this. I really am,” Duke said as he secured Russell and the handcuffs to the Crown Victoria’s side mirror. “I wasn’t lying to you. I truly have nothing but the greatest of respect for law enforcement, as long as they’re not looking for me.”

  “You son of a bitch,” Julia said.

  “That’s me,” Duke said as he pulled out a gun from the back of his suit jacket and pointed it at Julia. “If this is the only way you’ll get in the car, then that’s how we’ll play it.”

  “I’m not leaving my friend.”

  Duke pressed a button on his phone and studied it. He then put his hand on Julia’s back and pushed her toward his waiting vehicle.

  “A Chevy Tahoe is heading this way, about three minutes out. It was parked at your house late last night and this morning, so I’m guessing it’s another cop. Your friend here will be just fine.”

  “Russell, I’m sorry,” Julia said.

  Russell jerked his head around and tried to spy Julia.

  “We’re coming for you, Julia. Hang on. And we’re coming for you, too,” Russell said to Duke. “Father or not.”

  “I left you your gun. I know it’s bad for cops if they lose their gun or their badge. Nice to meet you,” Duke said as he opened the driver-side door of his car and shoved Julia inside.

  Julia scrambled to the passenger side and tried the lock, but Duke was already inside and he snapped the locks in place.

  “Are you going to kill me?” Julia asked.

  “That’s what you think? I’m taking you to a place where I’ll be safe and we can talk. You help me and I’ll help you. You want to know what happened to Ben? I’ll tell you what I know, if you tell me what the cops have and what Liam Mueller told you when you met with him at his store.”

  “What is this all about?” Julia asked.

  Duke Gooden pulled his sunglasses from his face and laid them on the dashboard. He rubbed his eyes and looked tired for the first time since Julia had seen him.