Lethal Target

by Janice Cantore

  18

  LONG BEACH

  A few days after being bailed out, Hector met his benefactor.

  “What kind of arrangement?” Hector asked. The man before him was short but carried himself like a tall man. He had an impressive number of tattoos and a nasty scar on his face that made Hector intensely curious about how it had happened. But it was obvious the man had not come to chat about himself.

  “I want her distracted, harassed. Don’t give her a reason to arrest you. Walk up to the line but don’t cross it. You do that, and the money will keep flowing.”

  “Sure thing. Where am I staying?”

  “Pot farm called the Hang Ten. Gaston Haywood is expecting you. One thing you must never do is mention me. At. All.” He paused for emphasis. “I am a silent partner. You do, and the deal is off.” The guy turned downright Walking Dead scary at this point. “Tess O’Rourke has gotten in my way too many times. Now I want you to get in her way.”

  Hector nodded. “I’m cool, man. I live to hassle the Red Menace.”

  It took some time to untangle his affairs and to pay off some angry creditors, but Hector happily accepted his new sponsor’s proposal and prepared to leave the town he’d been born and raised in, the place where he’d generated his first taste of fame. He packed two bags of belongings, just the basics—his computer and printer, a few clothes. He planned on leaving everything else. Let the stupid landlord who left the eviction notice empty the apartment of all the other stuff. It surprised him how much the promise of this new venture had lifted his spirits, given him purpose, made him giddy even. He’d thought of nothing else since he got the offer. He never would have thought of leaving California for a state like Oregon—New York maybe, but not Oregon. But his newfound benefactor made him such an attractive offer, there was no way he could refuse.

  And the perks! He’d be able to harass Tess O’Rourke again. He’d have almost done that for free. Almost. Now he had an income. The benefactor gave him a bunch of cash up front with the promise of more to come. Hector had nothing to lose. Everything here in California had slipped through his fingers: His blog had faded from people’s minds. He spent his savings losing an election. He was broke. At least now he had a pocket full of green and a full tank of gas.

  He didn’t look back after he loaded his car and started the engine. In a few minutes, he was headed north on the 405, mind whirring with strategies to make O’Rourke’s life miserable.

  19

  Tess rarely made traffic stops, and when she did, it was usually to issue a warning. People generally saw her blue-and-white police vehicle and stopped whatever infraction they were engaged in. Though she was in Bender’s pickup, it was still a marked police vehicle with a light bar. On her way home from lunch, after she’d dropped Casey off in Shady Cove to meet her husband, an egregious infraction happened right in front of her and she couldn’t avoid the stop. A gray panel van blew a stop sign going at least ten miles over the speed limit.

  She’d just turned off Highway 62 and was driving over the bridge toward River Drive, in a good mood after the great lunch with Casey. The van was heading into downtown Rogue’s Hollow on River Drive. The vehicle’s speed was enough to catch her attention since the limit in town was 20 mph. The stop sign was the capper. And the van belonged to the Hang Ten; she knew that much because it was written on the side. She made her turn onto River Drive and activated her light bar.

  Brake lights came on immediately. She could only imagine the driver’s thoughts. It was obvious he hadn’t seen her before running the stop. He pulled over right away and ended up stopped in front of Wild Automotive. Tess radioed in the stop, asked for a 28/29 on the license plate and waited for the dispatcher to acknowledge her. Once that happened, she got out of the truck and approached the vehicle.

  She could see the driver fumbling around and placed a hand on her weapon out of habit. Walking up on a stopped vehicle like this was way more dangerous than anyone who’d never done it could imagine. Why was the driver speeding? He could be running from a crime for all she knew. She could tell it wasn’t Haywood driving; she hadn’t seen his blond hair. But it could be any of his employees.

  Since he’d pulled over so quickly, Tess was inclined to let him off with a warning . . . if he passed the attitude test. She reached the driver’s window. The driver turned her way—Eddie Carr.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Carr. Do you know why I pulled you over?”

  “Uh, probably because you got nothing better to do in this dinky little town than harass people.”

  First test, fail.

  “On the contrary, I have a lot to do in this ‘dinky town.’ License, registration, and proof of insurance, please.”

  “It’s not my van.”

  “You’re driving it. And that wasn’t what I asked. I need the requested documents.”

  He glared at her and Tess was about to pull him out of the van.

  “All right, all right.” He reached to his right and Tess stiffened. But he handed her the truck’s registration and an insurance card.

  “Your driver’s license?”

  “I don’t have it.”

  “You don’t have one, or you just don’t have it on you?”

  “Ain’t got one. Look, I’m sorry. I’m having a bad day. I promise to slow down.”

  Tess didn’t believe his contrition and grabbed the door handle and pulled it open. “Step out of the van.”

  “Why?”

  “I need to verify your identity, and if you don’t have a license, you won’t be driving this van anywhere now.”

  A muscle in his jaw jumped, and she saw the anger spark in his eyes. This guy was bad news—every instinct in her body was telling her that. She stepped back, held his smoldering gaze.

  He relented, threw his hands up, and smiled a smile that never reached his eyes. “Okay, okay. Sorry, Chief.”

  He climbed out of the vehicle and Tess followed him as he slowly made his way back to the front of her truck. She had him stand between the two vehicles while she filled out a field interview card with all the information he gave her.

  “Spell your full name.”

  “E-d-d-i-e.”

  “Middle name?”

  He shook his head. “C-a-r-r.”

  To get an answer to every basic question was like pulling teeth. There were no wants or warrants on the name and date of birth he supplied, but there was a close hit on a suspended California driver’s license. She looked at him as she heard the dispatcher ask if she wanted the CDL number. He looked away. If he had a CDL, his name and date of birth should have given her an exact match, not a close hit. That he was lying was clear. Technically, she could arrest him to confirm his identity. But he wasn’t a tourist she didn’t know; he was a member of the community, and she knew where to find him. He wouldn’t be kept in custody for the misdemeanor arrest, that was for sure. There was no room in the jail for nonviolent offenders. Tess was willing to give him a small bit of leeway, in the hopes her grace would get him to open up. People lied about a lot of things, and Tess needed to know what Eddie Carr was hiding. But then, if it had to do with Tim Harper’s murder, could she get a hard case like him to make an admission?

  In the interest of fairness and of trying to get on his good side, Tess gave him one last chance. “Mr. Carr, do you have any paperwork at all that can confirm your identity?”

  “Like what?”

  “To get hired, did you give Haywood something to prove that you are who you say you are? Something he can bring to vouch for you?”

  He muttered something that was probably a curse. “This is harassment, lady. I ain’t a wetback. I’m an American. I’ve got rights.”

  Tess’s already-murmuring spidey sense went off like a fire alarm. Evasive, angry, dangerous body language. She was about to call for backup when Curtis Pounder pulled up and parked behind her truck. He got out and walked over to see if she needed help. Tess made her decision. She nodded to Curtis and tapped her wrist, indicating that C
arr was under arrest.

  She moved to one side of Carr and Pounder took the other. “Mr. Carr.”

  “What?” He turned his head to look at her and tensed visibly. He knew he was being arrested.

  “I’m placing you under arrest to verify your identity.”

  “I’m not going to jail.” For about two seconds, he didn’t move.

  She watched him as carefully as she’d ever watched anyone. He was like a coiled spring, the tension dripping off him like rainwater.

  Timing is everything.

  She reached for his right arm at the same time he pivoted and swung around with a closed left fist.

  Reflex and instinct saved her from a punch in the face. She felt the fist whiz by as she ducked and then stepped forward, catching his left arm in the crook of her arm and locking it there as her momentum pushed them both into Curtis. Sergeant Pounder wasn’t tall, but he was broad and he was already moving to contain the man. He grunted as they smashed together but held his ground.

  Curtis grabbed for Carr’s other arm. Carr struggled to punch and fight.

  Tess and Pounder each had an arm and shoved him toward the hood of her truck, wanting to restrict his movement as much as possible. Together they forced him into the front grille. But the fight wasn’t over. They had to turn him over and cuff him.

  He was a wiry, flexible guy. As Tess fought to keep ahold of his arm, Curtis managed to shove him around, but neither could get their respective arms behind his back to be cuffed. It was warm, and Tess felt the sweat forming on her face as Carr’s arm became slippery.

  “Stop resisting,” Tess huffed, breath coming hard as she struggled with the man, who had every muscle in his body tensed. His hands were balled into fists. There was no using a twist lock, and fighting to straighten his arms from a full curl was impossible. Keeping her two-handed grip from slipping took all her strength.

  She jammed her knee into the back of his thigh. He couldn’t move to effectively fight, but he wasn’t giving any ground either.

  As they struggled, she was vaguely aware of people gathering. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t let a bit of her hold loosen or let anything interrupt her concentration.

  Beside her, Curtis was breathing just as hard, but he was able to bring his left hand up and employ a pressure point, pinching the mandibular nerve behind Carr’s ear with his thumb. That caused Carr to flinch, giving Tess the opportunity to force his left arm behind his back.

  Curtis pushed again and then forced the right arm back. The fight was not over. It took several more minutes to firmly apply the cuffs. Carr did not want to quit.

  “You’re gonna regret this,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “I’ll own this town, own it!”

  They searched him, removed a pocketknife and a little cash, but it was a fight every step of the way. It was only when he realized, finally, there was no escape that he stopped, sweat glistening on his bald head.

  Since he would now be charged with resisting arrest, Tess and Curtis walked him back to Curtis’s patrol car.

  “You all saw that,” Carr yelled to the people who’d been watching. Mostly tourists—Tess didn’t recognize but a couple of faces. “Po-lice brutality, po-lice brutality,” he chanted, even after he was securely belted in the car and the door was closed.

  Curtis stepped back, wiping sweat from his brow and blowing out a relieved breath. “Wow, that’s my workout for the week. What was his major malfunction?”

  Tess wiped sweaty palms on her thighs, noticed that Damien, the local paper publisher, was there and he had his camera out. How would what just happened look in a photo?

  “He has no ID. I wanted to get him identified.”

  “He doesn’t want to be identified if he put up that much of a fight.”

  “Yeah, be careful, will you?”

  He nodded, then left to take Carr to Medford, where he’d be positively identified by fingerprints and booked into jail.

  “You okay, Chief?” Damien asked.

  Tess sucked in a breath. “He was under arrest for a traffic misdemeanor and didn’t want to be.”

  “All that for a traffic misdemeanor?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” It took Tess a few minutes to get her breathing to slow and her heart rate to calm. Overcoming the resistance of a person who just refuses to cooperate was harder than fighting someone.

  The incident was on rewind in her thoughts, and she realized that Curtis’s presence there had prevented a punch fight. Carr had been cornered in every way. If Carr was even his real name. They’d know soon enough.

  The crowd dispersed, and she walked back to the van and took the keys from the ignition, then locked the vehicle up. She’d call Haywood and tell him where his van and his employee were and to come get his keys.

  – – –

  “He told me he cleared that up.” Haywood arrived at the station about an hour later. Don Cherry stood behind him but said nothing.

  “Apparently not,” Tess said, dropping the keys in his hand.

  “And you arrested him for that?”

  “Do you have an ID or something that proves who he is?”

  “Hey, he’s not illegal. He’s an American citizen. This is nonsense. You’ll be hearing from my lawyers.”

  Tess watched him go and checked the clock. Curtis should have booked Carr in by now. She had just picked up her phone to call him when it rang with a call from him.

  “Okay, what happened?” she asked.

  “He’s refusing to be printed. They have him in a holding cell. You know the drill. He won’t be processed until he’s printed.”

  “What is he hiding?” she said half to herself, then, “Are you headed back?”

  “Yeah, be back to the barn shortly.”

  The suspense was killing her, but she didn’t have much time to think about Haywood or Carr; she had a city council meeting to attend. The council in Rogue’s Hollow met twice a month. The first meeting was closed, council members only, with space for Tess. Once in a while Oliver would show up; he was always welcome because Addie liked his constructive input. The second monthly meeting was open to the public, comment was allowed, and complaints were taken. The public meeting was usually the topic of discussion at the closed meeting. Tonight’s meeting would focus on the upcoming election and its aftermath. Tess knew that Addie feared what might happen no matter which side won the pot sale initiative, pro or con.

  “Tess, are you all right?” Oliver came into her office, face lined with worry. “I just heard what happened.”

  His concern touched Tess. But how fast information spread around town was always a wonder. She noticed, for some reason, everyone wanted to talk to the pastor and tell him every little happening.

  “I’m good, Oliver, thanks.” She had been through many a stressful law enforcement moment over the years. This one was over and now was the time to settle back into routine. But Tess knew and would deal with the fact that she came very close to being hit in the face and seriously hurt.

  “Any idea why he put up such a fight?”

  “He’s refusing to be fingerprinted, so my guess is he’s not who he says he is.” She stood. “Ready for the council meeting?”

  Oliver nodded. They walked to the council chambers together.

  “I recognize you have a dangerous job,” Oliver said, “but something like this happening in downtown Rogue’s Hollow is disturbing.”

  “I’m fine, really.” Tess adjusted her vest, wishing she’d thought to change her sweaty undershirt and trying to deflect Oliver’s concern. The stop was over. She was fine.

  But once inside the chambers, she was peppered with questions about what happened in front of Wild Automotive before she could sit down.

  “You created a spectacle on Main Street. Couldn’t you handle that any other way?” Cole Markarov asked. He’d been against Tess’s hire from the very beginning, so his attitude didn’t surprise her at all. “Not to mention all the money you cost the city when you wrecked your police ca
r last week.”

  “Really, Cole, she did her job. Law enforcement isn’t always please and thank you.” Casey stood up for Tess before Oliver could.

  Addie moved that they start council business and Tess relaxed. It was all about pot now.

  “We can’t let our personal prejudices color how we decide issues for the community.” Cole’s attention was redirected, and since he was one of two people running for mayor, once the meeting was under way, he put on his political face. He was generally an abrasive, rude man, but since declaring his run for mayor, he’d become quite the political animal.

  “If the pot initiative wins, we’ll just have to live with it,” he said, acting more magnanimous than she knew he was.

  “No one is saying that we won’t accept the results of the election,” Casey said. “We just have to realize that no matter who wins, half the town is going to be unhappy.”

  “Of course we’ll accept whatever the votes say,” Addie said. “All I want to do is make sure we are prepared if the initiative is successful. If cannabis goes on sale on Main Street, how should it be handled?”

  For a second, everyone began to talk at once. Tess just leaned back and listened, trying to picture a pot shop in downtown Rogue’s Hollow.

  “I agree with preparation,” Oliver said. “My fear is that the impact of pot on River Drive could be worse than we anticipate.”

  “What do you think, Tess?” Addie asked.

  “I understand Oliver’s fear. And to be honest, I’m not for legalized pot sale in town. But I haven’t seen any serious impact in Shady Cove.”