by Joseph Badal
DARK ANGEL
The Lassiter/Martinez Case Files #2
JOSEPH BADAL
SUSPENSE PUBLISHING
DARK ANGEL
by
Joseph Badal
DIGITAL EDITION
* * * * *
PUBLISHED BY:
Suspense Publishing
Joseph Badal
Copyright 2017 Joseph Badal
PUBLISHING HISTORY:
Suspense Publishing, Paperback and Digital Copy, January 2017
Cover Design: Shannon Raab
Cover Photographer: iStockphoto.com/Derno
Cover Photographer: iStockphoto.com/Blake David Taylor
Cover Photographer: Studio Background/Danish Abbasi
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks.
JOSEPH BADAL’S BOOKS & SHORT STORIES
THE DANFORTH SAGA
EVIL DEEDS (#1)
TERROR CELL (#2)
THE NOSTRADAMUS SECRET (#3)
THE LONE WOLF AGENDA (#4)
DEATH SHIP (#5)
SINS OF THE FATHERS (#6) (To Be Released in 2017)
CYCLE OF VIOLENCE SERIES
#1: THE MOTIVE
#2: OBSESSED (To Be Released in 2017)
STAND-ALONE THRILLERS
THE PYTHAGOREAN SOLUTION
SHELL GAME
ULTIMATE BETRAYAL
LASSITER/MARTINEZ CASE FILES
#1: BORDERLINE
#2: DARK ANGEL
SHORT STORIES
FIRE & ICE (UNCOMMON ASSASSINS ANTHOLOGY)
ULTIMATE BETRAYAL (SOMEONE WICKED ANTHOLOGY)
THE ROCK (INSIDIOUS ASSASSINS ANTHOLOGY)
DEDICATION
“Dark Angel” is dedicated to Heather Elizabeth Badal, a wonderful daughter-in-law who has brightened and enriched our lives in so many ways.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
To all my readers, thank you for your loyal support. You virtually keep alive my passion for writing. Your kind feedback and suggestions are invaluable.
I have been fortunate to have had reviews and blurbs for my novels written by many successful and prolific authors, including Mark Adduci, Tom Avitabile, Parris Afton Bonds, Steve Brewer, Catherine Coulter, Philip Donlay, Steve Havill, Anne Hillerman, Tony Hillerman, Paul Kemprecos, Robert Kresge, Jon Land, Mark Leggatt, Michael McGarrity, David Morrell, Michael Palmer, Andrew Peterson, Mark Rubinstein, Meryl Sawyer, and Sheldon Siegel. I know how busy these men and women are and it always humbles me when they graciously take time to read and praise my work.
Thanks to Tim Thackaberry for his invaluable assistance with IT issues. As technology becomes more and more complex, this writer would be lost in the electronic woods were it not for friends like Tim.
Thanks to John Badal for his assistance with Spanish language matters.
Deirdre Badal was extremely helpful with anecdotes that became an important part of this story.
Anne Carstensen contributed in a significant way by recommending changes to “Dark Angel” in the areas of forensics and police procedure. Her advice has been invaluable.
I am grateful for the assistance of Jim Coad in Albuquerque. Jim owns one of the premiere coin shops in New Mexico, which I have patronized for decades. He was an immense help in providing background about coin collecting. On January 30, 2016, just as I finished the first draft of “Dark Angel,” two men entered Jim’s shop, attacked him with a hammer and a taser gun, and robbed him. Jim courageously fought back and shot and killed one of the robbers. I am pleased to report that, despite being hospitalized after the robbery, Jim’s injuries were not life-threatening and he is back running his business.
Many thanks to Sara Badal’s expert editing. You contributed in a meaningful way in making “Dark Angel” a better read.
As always, I appreciate the continued support of John & Shannon Raab and of all the staff members at Suspense Publishing. You have all made the publishing process easier, more rewarding, and most enjoyable.
PRAISE FOR ‘DARK ANGEL’
“ ‘Dark Angel’ is another thrill ride by acclaimed suspense author Joseph Badal. The second book in his Lassiter/Martinez Case Files series, this one finds them hunting a vengeance-crazed vigilante, who forces them to question their idea of justice. It’s relentless from start to finish. Badal just gets better and better.”
—David Morrell, New York Times Bestselling Author of “Murder As a Fine Art”
“Badal has done it again in ‘Dark Angel,’ his taut, fast-paced tale of revenge and retribution. In the second book of his Lassiter-Martinez Case Files, software engineer Robert Thornton’s quest to find the killers who murdered his wife and children in a home invasion morphs into a broader mission, the destruction of criminals who committed violent crimes and got away with it. The gruesome murder of one of his victims brings him into the sights of Barbara Lassiter and Susan Martinez, detectives with the Albuquerque violent crimes/homicide unit. As this talented duo follows the blood-spattered trail of a wily killer who inhabits a world where nothing is as it seems, they must deal with the FBI bureaucracy, a temperamental boss and their own personal issues. Their warm friendship is a potent antidote to the mayhem and murder that is part of their every-day life. Great characters, action and plotting. ‘Dark Angel’ is a real winner!”
—Paul Kemprecos, #1 New York Times Bestselling Author of “The Minoan Cipher”
“Tense, tight action drives you to ‘Dark Angel’s’ pulse pounder ending. Badal’s best yet and a thriller that keeps you up all night breathlessly turning the pages.”
—Parris Afton Bonds, New York Times Bestselling Author of “The Calling of the Clan”
“The uniquely original ‘Dark Angel’ is a riveting, on-point thriller that reads like Brian Garfield’s ‘Death Wish’ on steroids. The second in Joseph Badal’s series featuring detectives Barbara Lassiter and Susan Martinez offers up a dark world of murder and madness where just enough light manages to push its way through. The pacing is crisp and the plot twists constant, as Badal plants himself firmly on the hallowed ground of Tess Gerritsen and John Sandford. ‘Dark Angel’ is crime-thriller writing at its absolute best.”
—Jon Land, USA Today Bestselling Author of “Strong Cold Dead”
“From the first page to last, if you have a pulse, you’re hooked! Badal delivers a gripping story that never gives up, never quits until all accounts are settled.”
—Tom Avitabile, Author and #1 Bestseller of “Give Us This Day”
“Lassiter and Martinez chase from one end of New Mexico—and one end of the country—to the other, drawn deeper and deeper into a deadly game against killers who stand to lose millions. Badal just gets better and better.”
—Steven Havill, Award-Winning Author of “Come Dark”
“ ‘Dark Angel’ is an adrenaline junkie’s delight. It serves up an addictive fix of high-voltage tension in a tightly-woven tale of spine-tingling intensity.”
—Award-Winning Author Mark Rubinstein
“In ‘Dark A
ngel,’ Badal masterfully weaves a plot which begs the question, follow the law or seek justice? Detectives Lassiter & Martinez refuse to back down from peer-pressure as they walk the tightrope between law and justice, proving they are one of the best crime-fighting duos in modern literature.”
—J.M. LeDuc, Amazon # 1 Bestselling Author of “Painted Beauty”
“When renowned thriller author Joseph Badal picked up a different pen to write a police procedural mystery featuring two female cops, he hit the mark the first time out of the chute. Now he returns with Detectives Lassiter and Martinez pursuing a thankless case no one else will touch. Joe’s thriller roots show through in this exciting mystery that features multiple points of view and disagreements between law enforcement agencies. Hang on for a mystery with thriller elements penned by an author who could teach a Master Class in suspense.”
—Rob Kresge, Award-Winning Author of the Warbonnet Mystery Series
DARK ANGEL
JOSEPH BADAL
PROLOGUE
Three Years, Three Months Ago
Robert Thornton barely suppressed a groan as he turned his head toward the hospital room door. The slight movement shot shards of pain from the top of his head to his ribs.
“Mr. Thornton. I’m Doctor Sheila Washington. Your surgeon, Doctor Crombie, suggested I come by.”
“You . . . the shrink?” he muttered through his clenched, wired jaw.
Washington nodded and smiled. “I prefer psychiatrist, but shrink will do.”
“You’re . . . wasting time . . . here, Doctor.”
“Hmm. Perhaps we could talk for a little bit.”
Thornton shrugged and grimaced when even that little movement painfully racked his body.
“How are you feeling today?”
He pointed at his bandaged face and wired jaw. “What do you think?”
“Of course.” She paused a second, and then asked, “How do you feel about what happened?”
“I promised Doctor Crombie . . . I’d speak with you. I always . . . keep my promises. But don’t ask . . . stupid questions.”
Thornton adjusted the oxygen tube in his nostrils and tried to catch his breath.
“Keeping a promise you made to someone else isn’t the ideal motivation to meet with a psychiatrist. You should want to talk with me for your own personal reasons, not because you promised Dr. Crombie.”
Thornton scoffed.
“What would you like to accomplish today?”
“To tell Crombie . . . I kept my promise.”
Washington sighed. “That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I call you Robert, or do you prefer Bob?”
“Race.”
“Race?”
“Yeah. Father called me that. Always racing around . . . as a kid.”
“Okay, Race. Answer a question for me.”
Thornton nodded once.
“What’s the first thing you think about when you wake in the morning?”
Race closed his eyes and exhaled. “Same thing every day. In my dreams . . . and in nightmares.”
“Uh hmm.”
“The bastards who murdered . . . wife and daughters.”
“What about them?”
“Finding them.”
“And what if you find them?”
“I’ll make them suffer. The way they made . . . Mary . . . Sara . . . Elizabeth suffer.”
“So, you want revenge?”
Thornton stared at the doctor. “Whatever. Justice. Revenge. Payback.”
The doctor’s professional mask cracked momentarily, then she asked, “What other goals do you have?”
“None.”
“We all should have a purpose in life. That purpose should be grounded in the mores and rules of one’s society.”
Thornton scoffed again. “I’ve always obeyed rules. Assumed most . . . members of society followed them. I was wrong.”
“We don’t get to change the rules if we expect a society to survive.”
“Wrong, Doc.”
The doctor shook her head. “You know what Confucius said about revenge?”
Thornton, expressionless, continued to stare back.
“‘Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.’ ”
“I plan to dig more than two.”
PRESENT
DAY 1
CHAPTER 1
Robert “Race” Thornton checked the time as his burner phone chirped: 7 a.m. “Yeah, go ahead,” he answered.
“You in the city?” Eric Matus said.
“Room 113. Corner of Tenth and Central.”
“Ten minutes.”
Matus sat across a tiny, round table from Race in an Albuquerque motel room. He watched a cockroach in a corner wriggle its antennae and then scurry under the bed. “You know, you can afford a lot better than this.”
“You sound like a wife. I only stay at places without security cameras and that aren’t picky about ID. We’ve been over it before.”
“Yeah, Race, I know. But it’s not much of a life…I didn’t think it would come to this.”
“If you gauge life by luxury hotel rooms and expensive restaurants, you’re correct. I use a different metric today.”
“I understand. It’s just that I hate how our lives have changed. Three years of this shit.”
“Eric, remember you called me. It was your idea in the first place. We’d both lost our families.”
“Yeah, and you came through for me. You took out that drunk who killed Suzy and Andy after the bastard had been sentenced to probation. But we haven’t gotten any closer to the men who killed your family. Maybe we should . . . get on with our lives.”
Race sniffed. “When they murdered Mary and the girls, I could have gone back to running my company, but that wouldn’t have given me the time to do what I do now. I could have felt sorry for myself, been a perpetual victim. That’s not me. I’ll find the bastards one of these days. In the meantime, we’re doing good.”
“The law won’t look at it that way.”
“When the law brings justice to innocent people, I’ll stop.”
“You ever count how many ways you’ve . . . you know?”
Race shot an ice-cold look across the table, which caused Matus to look at everything in the room but him.
He squinted. “Strange question.” Despite the time they’d known one another, worked together, Matus had never seemed to relax in his presence. He looked like a small-town shop keeper—always wore plaid sport jackets, a tie, permanent press khakis that probably came from Sam’s or Costco, and comfortable lace-up shoes. Horn rim glasses and a crew cut completed the image. No resemblance at all to the Army-trained killer he’d once been. “Most people would want to know how many times I’ve killed. But I guess you already know that.”
“So, how many ways have you”—Matus dropped his voice to a whisper—“killed?”
“Read the newspapers.”
“I was just . . . you know, making conversation.”
Race glanced around the room. He never met in a place picked by someone else, including Matus. He’d already checked the room for listening devices and cameras. He had been confident there would be none in this dive-of-a-room. He was just paranoid-careful.
“I’m not here for conversation. You hand over the information and then you leave. Just like always.” Race softened his tone a bit. “You’re exposed enough as it is.”
Matus bobbed his head as though it was attached to his neck by a Slinky. “Yeah, yeah, I understand. Just like always.”
“That’s right.”
Race sat up in the straight-backed chair and crossed one leg over the other. He looked at Matus and waited.
“Oh, right.”
Matus slid a large manila envelope across the table. “The information’s in there.” After a pause, he said, “You know you could charge a lotta money for what we do?”
Race grimaced at Matus as though he were a slow child. “Jeez, Eric, you kno
w it’s not about the money. Are you telling me I’m not paying you enough?”
“No, no. I understand. It’s just that . . . I guess I just saw an opportunity.”
“You start thinking like that and you could get us in trouble. Money breeds distrust.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything. I hope you don’t think I’d—”
“Eric, we’ve known each other for . . . what? Over twenty years. We were in Basic, AIT, and SF training together. We served together in Iraq. We saved one another’s lives. You’re the only person in the world who I truly trust.”
Matus blurted an uneasy laugh and swallowed.
Race continued to shoot his squint-eyed stare until Matus finally seemed to understand it was time for him to leave. He stood and moved toward the exit. He grabbed the knob, but before he opened the door, he looked back over his shoulder. “Las Vegas. Wednesday.”
Race said, “I’ll be there.”
“Okay.”
“You forgot something.”
Matus’s expression turned uneasy. Then he threw his hands in the air. “Oh, yeah. The burner phone. Damn. Sorry. You have it?”
“Of course.” Race tossed a burner phone to Matus, who juggled it and dropped it to the floor. He quickly retrieved it and held the phone in a two-handed grip.
“You know, we could do all this electronically,” Matus said. “No face-to-face meetings.”
“Yeah, I know. But even with all the safeguards I’ve put in place, most electronic communications can leave a trail. That’s why I use IDs bought through the TOR browser on the Dark Web. I also opened a new email account there. The next message you get from me will have the words two graves in the sender name.”