Death Toll Rising

by Terry Keys

  I gently woke the girls, and we all sat around and ate our campfire breakfast. Not too shabby considering the circumstances. Roughing it wasn’t the women in my life’s style. My mind kept wandering back to Houston and what was no doubt happening back home. I could tell Paul and DeLuca were equally distracted. What happened if another country really believed America was behind this? Then what?

  I gave Hilary some money and she rented two more tubes so we’d have enough to float. Paul and I bought ourselves and our ladies tubes with drink holders for our beer. They were fairly expensive but sure as hell beat lugging around a cooler like we had when we were kids. We’d picked a camping spot where you could walk across the street and start your float.

  “You girls ready to do this?” I said, smiling.

  “Thrilled,” Hilary called back.

  When we reached the edge, memories of what that ice cold water felt like made my body tingle. I climbed in first and fought back the burning desire to let my face show just how cold the water was. I wanted to be able to see their faces when their toes hit that ice cold river water.

  Miranda and Hilary almost stepped in at the same time.

  “Oh my God, David! This water is freezing!” Miranda said, barely getting one leg in.

  “There something you forgot to tell us, Dad?” Hilary sarcastically whined to me.

  I could barely hear her over my laughter.

  “So you find this funny, Porter?” DeLuca also joined in.

  “Hey, don’t blame me. I didn’t make the water cold. And, might I add, even if you’d known it’d still be equally as cold!”

  “Still would have been nice to know, wise guy!” DeLuca added.

  “It was a lot funnier this way,” Paul chimed in.

  “I don’t think it’s cold at all, Daddy,” Karen said as innocently as could be.

  We floated for about five hours before finally surrendering to the scorching sun and lack of drinkable water. I was saddened that I hadn’t brought Miranda and the girls long before now.

  As we approached camp, I noticed an extra car parked by my own.

  “Knuckles, you see that?” Paul asked, pointing at the car.

  “Yeah, I do,” I said.

  “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

  I was thinking exactly what Paul was thinking. Chief Hill couldn’t reach me on my cell, so he’d tracked my phone and had this guy waiting to summon me.

  We’d finally gotten several feet away from the car when the window rolled down.

  “Can I help you?” I asked.

  “You David Porter?” the man asked.

  “Well, bud, that kind of depends on who is asking and why,” I postured.

  “Relax, cowboy. Chief Hill had my captain send me up here to find you.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

  “Well, you heard what’s going on back in Houston, right?”

  “I heard a little this morning before we floated the river. I also heard the CIA, FBI, and Homeland Security were on the case,” I said.

  “Mister, I don’t know you personally, but I’ve read a lot about you and some of the cases you’ve solved. They say you’re one of the best. Hell, some even say you are the best.”

  “Well, the people who say that are mistaken, but thanks anyway.”

  “Well, if I were you, I’d get over and check that there cell phone of yours, hoss.”

  I stared down at him for a second. I walked over to my tent and crawled in. My cell phone was charging on a power strip hidden away in a corner.

  I had nine missed calls and an urgent-call-me-ASAP message from Chief Hill. And suddenly I was glad that neither Paul nor DeLuca had taken me up on that bet. It was clear that someone wanted me back in Houston and pretty badly.

  Chapter 8

  I put the phone to my ear after dialing the chief’s number. Miranda was staring at me with a stern, disapproving gaze. We’d planned on floating again the next day, but we both knew what was happening next.

  “Porter, where the hell have you been? Why haven’t you been answering my calls?”

  “Good morning,” I said.

  “Cut the shit, Porter. We have a serious situation here.”

  “When did good morning become shit? That’s usually how I like to start conversations.”

  “Good goddamned morning.”

  “Meh. I guess I’ll take it. As far as what I’ve been doing . . . let’s see. I told you and everyone else who needed to know that my family and I would be floating the river today and tomorrow. I don’t know if you’ve ever floated a river, but it would be extremely difficult to use a phone while tubing. Not to mention a real killjoy.”

  “I’m dealing with a lot here, Porter. I could use some help. Have you heard what’s happened overnight?”

  “I heard over the radio before our float this morning. Who the hell do you think is behind this?”

  “Well, that’s what we were kind of hoping you could help us with. We can’t spend a lot of time on this thing, or more people are going to die or worse.”

  “We? You French now?”

  “We as in the FBI, CIA, Houston . . . the world. Whoever is pulling the strings isn’t doing this to raise the price of oil. This could tilt the world powers one way or another and lead to a world war that could end us all.”

  “I understand the consequences. I don’t understand why you’re calling me in on this when the FBI and the others have their best men on it.”

  “I agree the FBI have their best guys on it, but they don’t have the best guy on it.”

  I paused before I commented. Hill was a lot of things, but handing out compliments, especially of this magnitude, wasn’t his cup of tea.

  “So let me make sure I understand. Officially no one has asked for my help, but unofficially you want me to start trying to work this thing from the outside? I got that right?”

  “Yeah, that’s it in a nutshell. I don’t say it often enough, but I’m always amazed at what you’re able to get done. I don’t always agree with your methods, but I can’t argue the results. I have a feeling how this thing is going to play out. They’ll spend a few days and get nowhere. Then someone will ask for or demand your help, because everyone knows what you can do. It’d be much smarter to just ask for your help outright, but we both know they’ve got too much pride for that.”

  Chapter 9

  Having to tell the girls that we’d be leaving after promising them we’d spend the entire weekend up here wasn’t going to be easy. After giving me and everyone else a hard time, Hilary actually enjoyed the float, and she’d also made some friends along the way. It felt like I couldn’t win for losing.

  I walked over to our canopy where both girls were seated. They looked up at me with the same give us the bad news looks I was dreading. Sadly, as a police officer you got used to getting those looks, and your family got used to giving them.

  “Dad, you don’t have to say anything. We heard—”

  I put my hand up to keep Hilary from continuing. “I do have to say something. I’m sorry that we have to go, but there’s a lot at stake here . . . maybe everything.”

  “It’s okay, Daddy. Maybe you can bring us back after you catch the bad guys,” Karen said.

  I reached out to them for a hug, and I held them both tightly. Miranda walked over and joined our group hug.

  “Knuckles, you want us to head down and get started? You and the girls can stay here another day or so, maybe get another float in before you leave.”

  “Thanks for the offer, Paul, but I need to go; we need to go. I won’t be able to do this alone. None of us will.”

  We started breaking down camp and loaded everything into our trucks. My mind was already in Houston trying to decide where we’d even begin this investigation.

  It took us about an hour to get everything packed up. My crew piled into my truck, and we headed for Houston. We’d been on the road about thirty minutes when the totality of it all hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt
my face tighten up. I could feel the blood surging through my veins.

  “How bad is it, do you think, David?”

  “Maybe I’ve been fooling myself, but it’s probably worse than I’ve allowed myself to believe. If Japan believes America had even an ounce to do with this, they could be planning retaliation. Hopefully their intelligence is telling them there’s no way America could be involved.”

  “What about the other leaders? Do you think they’re safe?”

  “I don’t know. My knee-jerk response is no. What these guys, whoever they are, have done here took a lot of planning. They got to Prime Minister Akio, and I doubt their plan was to stop there.”

  I knew the girls were in earshot and, as usual, were probably dialed in, so I didn’t want to say too much. How in the hell had these guys gotten close enough to kill Akio without being caught? I thought to myself.

  Miranda reached over and put her hand on my knee.

  This case was going to involve a lot of moving pieces. This wasn’t just a local gone mad who one day decided to start killing people. Right now there was an entire country that had been led to believe the United States killed their leader.

  The drive from San Marcos to Houston was only three hours, but it had given me enough time to devise a starting point for my official unofficial investigation. Or my unofficial official investigation . . . however you wanted to look at it.

  I pulled up to our house, and the girls helped me unload my truck. I looked down at my watch. It was quickly nearing five p.m., which meant this was the worst possible time to be driving around the city of Houston. I sent Paul a text and told him to meet me in Chinatown.

  “Honey, you’re pacing,” Miranda said.

  “I know. I’m about to leave.”

  “Stop beating yourself up and get out of here already. We know you have to go. I know what I married. I don’t always like it, but it could be worse, ya know?” She smiled at me.

  I kissed all three of the ladies in my life and headed out.

  Chapter 10

  The traffic was exactly what I expected. I-45 was a parking lot. For a split second I thought about lighting it up and getting through a little faster, but I didn’t. I got a text from Paul letting me know he was about fifteen minutes out just as I arrived in Chinatown.

  I parked and headed toward the Fu Fu Café. I walked in front of the restaurant and turned to look behind me. I wanted to see if there were any video cameras pointing in our direction. It’d be a lot of work, but we needed to go back about two months and see if anything stood out. One of the best ways to get started with an investigation was to look at a scene and find out what didn’t belong. I may be able to do that from the video logs. Watching hours of boring and mostly uneventful footage was a part of a detective’s job that didn’t show up on the big screen.

  I sent a text to Fingers and let him know what he’d be getting from me and what I was looking for.

  I texted Chief Hill and let him know I was here. It wouldn’t take long, and my meddling, as the FBI would see it, would make it back to him anyway.

  The area was bustling with shoppers and tourists. I imagined when Akio arrived a few days earlier, the streets had been cleared and scanned. How in the world had someone gotten close enough to pull this off? Or had they gotten close at all?

  Being a public official, his travel plans, no doubt made several months in advance, wouldn’t be all that hard to get. And whoever did this wasn’t a small time criminal. This was the work of a well-connected and well-funded group.

  I pulled out my phone and called Chief Hill.

  “What can I do for you, Porter?”

  Guess we were skipping past all the formalities.

  “I need to see the autopsy report on Akio. Can you get that for me? Oh, and I’d like to see the FBI’s report on the crime scene.”

  “It won’t be easy getting those without raising some flags.”

  “It won’t be easy solving this case and figuring out who we’re up against without that analysis,” I retorted.

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  The Fu Fu Café was still roped off and being guarded by a handful of street cops. I suspected the FBI felt it was beneath them to use their own guys for guard duty. Maybe it would work in my favor.

  I got twenty yards from the front of the restaurant, and my eyes locked with the HPD beat cop. I could tell by his shift in demeanor that he knew why I was there and that he was determined he wouldn’t let me in.

  He started in on me before I could even get a word in. “Dr. Porter . . . I’m sorry, Detective. I can’t let you in.”

  I reached out my hand to shake his as I read his badge. “One man’s already died here, Officer Jones. I’m here trying to make sure no one else does.”

  “And I’m just trying to do my job. I was given clear instructions to keep everyone not wearing an FBI badge out.”

  “I understand. I was sent here by our boss. I can give Chief Hill a call if I need to.”

  Jones shifted nervously.

  “Listen, I’m not trying to bust your balls here. I just need ten minutes in there.”

  He shook his head. “I could lose my job over this.”

  I placed my hands on his shoulders. “We could all lose our lives over this; it’s that serious. If we don’t figure this out, we’ll all die from a nuclear holocaust. If that happens, what was it all for?”

  He stared at me for a moment. I was being a little dramatic with the nuclear holocaust line, but I was desperate. “You got ten minutes. You hear me? Ten!”

  I flashed the A-Okay sign and hurried in to start looking around. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for that the FBI hadn’t already found. It looked like your standard Asian restaurant at first glance. And then something stood out to me. The entire restaurant had been rearranged. There was no way this was the standard seating arrangement during normal business hours. The chairs and tables had been moved along the wall to accommodate a stage area, which meant someone had advanced notice of at least a day and probably longer. More than enough time to set something up. I took out my notebook and made a note of it. I needed to find out exactly when this restaurant was contacted about Akio’s arrival.

  Next, I walked around to find the room where Akio was murdered. Only one reason he would have moved back here that night—girls. Another thing that would’ve been arranged ahead of time. I made a note of this as well.

  Someone not only knew in advance that he’d be in this tiny room for his special services, but they’d also had a wireless camera of some sort set up to transmit. There wasn’t one in the room, so I hoped the FBI already had it. Tracking its origins might provide some type of answers too.

  I snapped a few pictures on my phone and headed out.

  Officer Jones had his back to me but heard the door open.

  “Thought I was going to have to come in after you,” he said with a smile.

  “You said I had ten minutes. Just wanted to make sure I got my money’s worth.”

  A half a block down, Paul waved at me.

  “Nice of you to join the party, Paul.”

  “You done already?”

  I pointed to Officer Jones out front. “Yeah, for now. I was only given ten minutes for recess today.” I smiled.

  “Recess? What I would give for recess.”

  I put an arm on his shoulders. “Swing sets, monkey bars, and snaggletoothed girls—those were the days.”

  “Don’t forget Pencil Break and dodgeball to round out the top five.”

  When you’re a kid, you can’t wait to be an adult. And when you actually become one, you’d give anything to be a kid again.

  Chapter 11

  I heard a rap on my door and yelped “Come in” without looking up.

  “You’re about to miss the President’s presser,” DeLuca said, scolding me.

  I looked down at my watch. “I had no idea it was that time.”

  “What you working on anyway?”

  “Scouring
the net to see what chatter I can find on this Akio murder and, better yet, what might be next.”

  “Find anything worth mentioning?”

  I sighed. “Maybe. Lots of chatter. Hard to know what to take seriously and what is smoke and mirrors.”

  We walked down to the large conference room on the east end of the building. The FBI and Homeland Security had taken over the conference room on the west side of the building.

  We stepped into a room full of HPD officers and found a spot in the back. One minute later, President Wilson came into view on the projection screen.

  “Good evening. First of all, I would like to send my condolences to the Yoshida family and the people of Japan. Also let me assure you the American governmental agencies, including the FBI, are working around the clock to find out who committed this unspeakable act of cowardice. The reports that America had anything to do with this are preposterous, lack substance, and are just plain lies and someone’s propaganda. We will find the murderers and bring them to justice. We have developed a list of suspects and are actively pursuing leads and tips. At this time I do not have another press conference scheduled, but we will be as transparent as possible and let you know when we have made arrests in the case. I would also like to address the growing concerns the other countries have made known to us regarding their leaders. We are doing everything we can to keep them safe. Movement has been limited and in all but one case negated. Their locations have also been kept secret, and I can honestly say even from me. Please rest assured that we will find these fugitives and bring them to justice. At this time I will not be taking questions.”

  DeLuca and I left the conference room and headed for my office.

  “Well, that was basically a bunch of nothing,” DeLuca snapped.

  I nodded. “I wasn’t expecting to hear a lot. If anything had popped off, we would’ve already known about it.”

  My phone buzzed. Fingers.

  “What’s up?” I said.

  “Contacted the restaurants near where Yoshida was murdered. Didn’t find much. There is one day I think you should look at.”