City of Fear

by Larry Enmon

  She needed a place to lay low and get dressed for this evening—some local hotel would do. Jesse tossed all the bags in her trunk and pulled out the cardboard box tucked in the back. Opening it, she removed the wig and fitted it onto her head. Haven’t been in this thing for a while. Since her car had new plates, she needed a new look as well. Everyone would be looking for a short-haired blonde woman. Jesse pushed a strand of hair deeper under the wig and slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses. She raked her fingers through the new shoulder-length do and mused,

  I look damn good as a redhead.

  * * *

  After lunch Rob and Frank returned to the P.D. One look at the front and Rob wanted to turn around and head back to Sarge’s. Three remote TV trucks sprouting a dozen antennas were parked on Lamar Street. Reporters and camera crews jockeyed for a better live shot at the entrance to police headquarters. Rob grabbed his Copenhagen can and took an extra big pinch.

  “Circus is back in town,” Rob said.

  Frank didn’t answer, but a soft snore escaped his lips. He’d achieved the full slouch sleeping mode in record time.

  Terry and Edna were both out of the office—probably another meeting. At five o’clock Rob stood and slipped on his jacket as Frank’s phone rang.

  “Hold on,” Frank said, “I’m putting you on speaker.”

  It was Sims. “Guess what, guys? Just got a call from Grapevine P.D. They have a lady in their office who recognized the photo on the news.”

  “You mean Jesse?” Frank asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Where did she see her?”

  “Rented her a house in Grapevine last week.”

  39

  Antoine Levern had stayed up until 3:00 a.m. playing Mass Effect Andromeda and doing a line or two of coke every few hours. Helped him keep his edge—made him a better gamer. He finally got up in the early afternoon and ordered breakfast from the restaurant. As he finished, Tabor walked in.

  “Hey, Boss. Feeling better?”

  Tabor didn’t have to explain. Levern understand what he meant. The once dapper Antoine Levern, man about town, had become a Howard Hughes-like recluse. Not sleeping well, no appetite, going days without bathing or even brushing his teeth.

  “Yeah … I’m good,” Levern said.

  Tabor wore an expression Levern knew well. He had something uncomfortable to discuss. Levern waited, but Tabor just stared at him with both hands in his pocket. “Was there anything we needed to talk about?” Levern asked.

  Tabor lowered his gaze and removed the toothpick from his mouth. “Well, I have a confession.”

  Levern hated anybody leading off with that as their first words. “What happened?”

  “My new girlfriend is someone you know.”

  Levern shook his head. “What does that mean? So she’s someone I know. So what?”

  Tabor sucked in a deep breath. “You know that blonde we met in the restaurant a couple of weeks back?”

  Levern sat back and grinned. “You dog! You’re screwing the gal I gave the free lunch to?”

  Tabor nodded. “She called last week and we talked. Told her you wasn’t feeling too good—wasn’t seeing people.” He shrugged. “Asked me to take her out.”

  Levern smiled and shook his head. “Hell, I thought it was something big.” He placed his right hand over his heart and bowed his head. “Go ahead. Have a little fun with my blessing.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Seems she likes having fun with a crowd. Wanted me to ask if you’d join us in a ménage a something or other tonight.”

  “Ménage a trois?” Levern asked.

  Tabor nodded. “Yeah, that’s what it’s called.”

  Levern leaned forward and clasped his hands together. “Let me get this straight. That sweet little thing wants to do both of us at the same time?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  Levern had to go far back in his memory to pull out the last time he’d been in a ménage a trois. There had been good whiskey, good coke, and two good looking women. Never did two guys on a gal before. Might be fun. Besides, he was due for a little R & R. “Sure, tell her I’m in.”

  “Tonight?”

  Levern ran his hand over his four-day stubble. “Why not? Gives me a reason to clean up.”

  * * *

  Frank, Rob, and Sims parked about fifty yards down the street and waited for Grapevine P.D. to take the lead. Antsy as hell, Frank couldn’t sit still. He wanted this to end right here, right now, tonight. Sims snacked on a Tootsie Roll and had a look of anticipation.

  The SWAT battlewagon roared to life and charged. When it skidded to a stop, a half dozen tactical officers dressed in black ran to the front and back doors of the rental. Less than five minutes later Frank got the all-clear call. By the time they marched through the front door, the Grapevine detectives were standing around looking at each other with hangdog expressions.

  “What?” Rob asked.

  “Place is cleaned out,” one said. “We’ll get the team over here to try and lift some prints, but whoever was here is long gone.”

  Frank didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. He looked at Rob, shook his head, and walked out the door. She’d beaten them again.

  * * *

  By the time they left Grapevine it was after seven. Rush hour traffic had all but disappeared and Dallas had settled into another uneasy weekend night. Rob drove and Frank brooded as they took the exit to Lamar Street.

  “Always one step ahead,” Frank muttered. He turned to Rob. “Now that the word’s out, no use keeping anything secret. May as well warn Levern.”

  Rob flipped on his right blinker. “You don’t think he already heard?”

  “Who knows.” Frank sighed. “Guy probably only watches Netflix and plays video games.” Frank pulled out his phone and dialed the number. It rang several times before going to voice mail.

  “My guess is once Jesse hears she’s been outed, she’s on the way out of town,” Rob said.

  Frank didn’t answer. He dialed Levern’s number again.

  Levern said, “Hello?” His voice had a rushed sound, like he was late for something.

  “Hey,” Frank said, “you doing all right?”

  Again the rushed tone. “Frank, love to talk but have a friend on the way up. Check in with you later—hot date with a blonde.” And the line went dead.

  It took about two seconds for Frank to make the connection. Cold crept through his blood. It was impossible for Jessie to snipe Levern or even get close enough for a pistol shot. But Jessie had shown herself to be versatile. Always did the unexpected. Had she managed to trick Levern into inviting her to his place?

  Rob began his turn onto the ramp leading up to the parking garage.

  “Stop!” Frank said. “Jesse’s at Levern’s.”

  Rob slammed on the brakes and shifted into reverse, doing a bat-turn in the almost empty parking lot. Frank redialed Levern’s number. It went to voice mail. He tried once more—voice mail. He called Sims. Frank’s nerves were raw. He spoke so fast Sims told him to slow down and repeat.

  “I said, Jesse’s at Levern’s. Get some uniforms over there. We’ll meet you.”

  * * *

  When they rolled up to Levern’s building, everything looked normal to Rob. The Cajun Crawdad was rocking, with the parking lot full and a line at the door. They parked in a fire zone beside the building. Nothing seemed out of place. Frank’s forehead crinkled as he studied the scene. The restaurant’s large windows spilled light onto the sidewalk out front. Rob scanned the customers inside.

  “You see her?” Rob asked. He stepped out of the car and unsnapped his holster under his jacket. His stomach twisted. The adrenalin rush kicked in. He got this way every time—just before the shit slid down hill and he either had to get out of the way or get buried underneath it.

  Frank edged to the wall beside the door and glanced through the windows again. “Not in the restaurant.”

  Rob looked
over his shoulder as Sims pulled up with a two-man patrol unit close behind. They joined Rob and Frank outside the door. White crumbs clung to the corners of Sims’s mouth as he slung a triple-X bulletproof vest over his head.

  The parking lot patrons eyed them but didn’t get out of line.

  “Where is she?” Sims asked.

  “Probably on the third floor,” Frank whispered.

  “Why you whispering?” Sims asked.

  Frank blushed and cleared his throat. “Where are the other uniforms?”

  Sims shrugged. “Friday night, manpower shortage, high priority calls—take your pick.”

  Frank faced the two young officers. “The woman we’re looking for is most probably the sniper suspect. Killed close to a dozen people in the last couple of weeks. Wouldn’t think twice about shooting you. Understand?”

  They both nodded. The tall one said, “We got a briefing before signing on tonight. She’s the blonde, right?”

  “Right,” Frank said. “We can’t wait for any more backup.” He swung open the door and took a right toward the back hall and elevator landing.

  One of Levern’s thugs, a young guy, leaned against the wall opposite the elevator with his arms crossed. He’d cut the sleeves out of his sweat shirt and wore his baseball cap turned backward.

  “Where’s Levern?” Frank asked.

  The bodyguard took one look at the uniforms and mumbled, “I ain’t saying nothing.”

  Frank pushed him against the wall, pulled his pistol, and pressed it to the guy’s forehead before thumbing the hammer back. In his most menacing voice Frank very slowly said, “Where is Levern?”

  The gangster’s eyes crossed, staring at the pistol. He pointed. “Upstairs.”

  “He alone?” Frank asked.

  The guy’s eyes remained crossed. “No, Tabor’s with him.”

  Frank holstered the pistol and stepped back. “Just Tabor?”

  The guy swallowed hard. “Yeah, Tabor, and the hottest redhead I’ve ever seen.”

  “Redhead?” Rob and Sims said at the same time.

  Frank looked Rob’s way, his stare frozen in disbelief.

  It was at that second Rob understood. Jesse knew her photo had been released—changed her appearance!

  In a shrill voice Frank said, “It’s her.” He pointed at the thug. “Any of them come down?”

  The guy shook his head.

  “Get out of here,” Frank told the guy. Frank motioned to the tall officer. “Stay here—nobody comes down the elevator or stairs. Understand?” Without waiting for an answer, he pointed at the other officer. “You and Sims take the stairs on the left”—Frank motioned to the stairs on the right—“and we’ll take these.”

  When everyone pulled their pistols, the gangster bolted from the elevator landing. The shorter officer ran after Sims, who was already on the stairs, and Frank led the way as he and Rob charged up the other set. When they reached the second floor landing, Frank slowed and peaked around the corner into the empty room. Only the sound of the big-screen TV echoed through the vast open space. Not a soul in sight.

  Frank rushed the stairs leading to the third floor.

  Rob grabbed his arm. “Steady. If she’s up there, no use running into a bullet.”

  Frank nodded and he and Rob slowly made their way up, one on each side, in the tactical combat shooter position. When they got to the third floor, it was dark and quiet. Rob searched the wall for a light switch—nothing.

  The glow from the stairwell cast a faint light across the floor to Levern’s bedroom. Rob’s gut tightened at what he saw. A body lay crumpled on the concrete outside the door. From the size of it, Rob didn’t have to guess. He and Frank eased beside it and rolled it over—Tabor. A small, neat hole between his eyes, leaking blood and a toothpick in the corner of his mouth.

  Rob swallowed. Oh, Christ!

  Across the darkness Sim’s voice called. “Are you guys up here yet?”

  “Yeah,” Rob hollered back. “One dead. Send the uniform over.”

  The sound of the uniform’s footsteps pounded through the darkness, preceded by the beam of his flashlight.

  “Need me too?” Sims called.

  “No,” Rob yelled. “Hold the stairs.”

  The uniform trotted up and Rob touched his back. “We’re going in that door,” he pointed to the bedroom—dynamic entry. “You break right.” Rob turned to Frank. “You break left, and I’ll go up the middle. Any questions?”

  Rob didn’t like the set up. The whole stairs and darkness thing was a little too close to what they’d experienced that night at Ricardo’s. Rob tried the door knob and it turned. He nodded to the others and said, “Go!”

  When they blew inside, all the lights were on. Levern lay on his back, spread eagle on the bed, with the same neat hole in his forehead as Tabor. His lifeless expression had a surprised look. Time stopped for a few seconds and no one spoke. Frank let his hand holding the pistol drop to his side. He took a couple of steps back. His eyes were vacant.

  Rob and the uniform cleared the bathroom and marched back into the bedroom. Frank hadn’t moved. “She’s not in here and she hasn’t left the building,” Rob said.

  Frank turned to the uniform and in a quiet voice said, “Call for more backup. She’s still up here.”

  They stepped out of Levern’s bedroom into the silence of the dark warehouse.

  Rob shouted, “Sims! Tabor and Levern are dead. Watch yourself! She’s still up here somewhere.”

  “Oh, shit!” Sims yelled back.

  Frank searched for a light switch—nothing.

  “More backup’s on the way,” the uniform said.

  Rob flattened himself against the wall and motioned Frank and the uniform over. “Everyone just be cool. She can’t get out. We’ll just contain her until reinforcements arrive.”

  A minute passed with no one saying a word. Everyone stayed low and out of the stairwell’s light. The echo of breaking glass pierced the dark silence.

  Frank stared at Rob with a questioning expression.

  “That was a window. She’s trying to get away,” the uniform said.

  “Call the backup units,” Frank told the uniform. “Tell them to surround the building. She may be trying to escape from an upper floor window.”

  Rob understood the waiting was over. If Jesse had figured a way to escape, that changed everything. Knowing Jesse’s attention to detail, Rob’s mind whirled with ideas on how she was probably getting away right now. “We have to check it out.” He looked at Frank. “Me and the uniform will do it. You guard this stairwell.”

  “I’m going with you,” Frank answered, then nodded to the officer. “Give me your flashlight.”

  The uniform handed it over and Frank passed it to Rob. “Let’s go.”

  Rob crouched near the wall and advanced toward the dark area where they’d heard the breaking glass. From his memory, they were heading toward the stinky sofa they’d seen on their first visit. He didn’t turn on the flashlight. That would make them a target.

  Frank’s steady breathing behind him was the only sound as they slowly moved into the abyss. Rob stopped after a few steps and Frank’s hand rested on his shoulder. They listened for a sound … anything that might give them an idea where she was. Rob ran each palm down his pants legs and got a new grip on the pistol. After a few seconds of dead silence, he started again. His stomach sick with dread.

  The blood in Rob’s head pounded so hard it made it difficult to hear. This whole thing was screwed up. He stopped and Frank’s hand came to rest on his shoulder once more. Rob took a couple of deep breaths and whispered, “You think she could have night-vision goggles?”

  Frank didn’t answer immediately, but when he did it was typical Frank. In a soft voice he said, “Thanks a lot for sharing that at this particular moment.”

  Rob gnawed his lower lip and eased forward. Getting killed was bad enough, but what would happen to Carmen? It would push her over the edge. He forced the thought from his
mind. Negative thoughts got guys killed. He needed all his attention focused right here, right now to survive.

  A moment later, Rob’s foot fell on something that crunched. He stopped. Must be near the broken window, but no light showed through. There were lights outside. He should have been able to see something. Reaching down, he felt what he’d stepped on. The first thing his finger touched was a jagged piece of glass. The second, the wet stem of some plant. He ran his finger up the stem and found the leaves and blooms. He lifted it to his nose.

  A gladiola. We’ve been tricked!

  A shot rang out from Sims’s stairwell.

  “Sims, what happened?” Frank shouted.

  No answer.

  “Sims,” Rob yelled.

  Still no answer. A sinking feeling filled Rob’s gut. He and Frank raced across the warehouse to Sims. The uniform they’d left at their stairwell arrived at the same time. When they made the turn, a sprawled body lay on the floor near the stairs, automatic still in his hand.

  The smell of gun powder hung in the air. Frank plucked the pistol from Sims’s grip and rolled him over. Blood poured from his forehead. Rob checked him. A small caliber bullet had parted his hair. The wound was only superficial, but there was lots of blood. Of more concern was the red stain around a hole in his bullet-proof vest and shirt—very close to the heart. Rob’s spirits sank. No … no … no. He probed under the vest.

  Sims opened his eyes and sucked in gulps of air. Between breaths he said, “Came running out of the darkness, silenced gun. Think I hit her.”

  Rob jerked his hand from under Sims’s vest and frowned at his red dripping fingers. He sniffed the syrupy goop and touched his tongue to it. “Sims, you idiot. This isn’t blood. It’s candy.”