Phoenix: A Hunter Novel

by J. V. Speyer

  Holcombe narrowed her eyes, but she followed him out into the hallway. A few nurses gave them funny looks, and Donovan supposed they were treating the hallway like their own private conference room, but he couldn’t exactly do anything about it right now.

  “What’s going on, Lieutenant?” She stood straight and spoke crisply. Obviously, she knew something was up.

  “We’ve got a lead on Hatch.” He relayed all the information he had. “I’m headed up there now to hopefully make the arrest, if you wanted to send some people along. I was wondering if you could do me a favor though.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “A favor?”

  Donovan plowed ahead. “Yes. In case this lead is false, something to just lead us in the wrong direction, I’m feeling a little uneasy leaving him here alone. If you could maybe just . . . call my mom or something, make sure he’s got armed protection twenty-four seven until she’s caught?”

  Holcombe’s face relaxed. “It’s not a problem. I’ll take care of it personally, Donovan.” She put a hand on his arm, just for a moment. “Now go and take this lunatic down, for all of our sakes.”

  Donovan didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed his laptop and his jacket and headed out into the crisp October air. He wasn’t coming back until Tammie Hatch was in custody.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Luis knew he was a pretty smart guy. Not to toot his own horn, but he’d just gotten into Harvard. Apparently, that was a big deal. He didn’t need to be a genius to know something was happening though, and that it was big. Donovan hadn’t even unpacked his things when he got a call, turned around, and left again with a quick kiss for Luis. And then Holcombe got on her phone, communicating mostly by text.

  His leg burned. That was the nerve damage. It might never be fixed. They “might” be able to fix “some” of it. It was all about waiting and seeing. They’d do a little surgery here, a little surgery there, see how it went. And in the meantime, Donovan was out there putting himself on the line, and Luis wasn’t going to be there to protect him.

  He wiped his palms on the sheets, hoping Holcombe didn’t see.

  Useless as two shits. Might as well finish the job. His father’s voice echoed from his cell in Luis’ brain, cackling as phantom flames licked higher.

  Luis gritted his teeth and reached for his tablet. They kept offering him opioids, and even Donovan seemed to think Luis should consider accepting them. He had to admit the idea of at least dulling the pain in his leg had its appeal. Two things stopped him. For one, his father’s history of addiction (and the utter asshole his father had become) kept him strictly away from anything habit-forming.

  More importantly, in the immediate term anyway, Hyena Lady had taken away Luis’ career and his self-image. All he had left was his brain, and apparently, it was quite the asset. There was no way he was going to throw that asset away in the name of a little bit of relief—especially when that relief wasn’t real, and was only temporary.

  He scrolled through the conversations he could see on his tablet. He still had access to everything—he was, technically, still an agent. So far, he couldn’t see a lot of movement on the Southwick case. He didn’t expect to see much, not without the right pressure point to apply. After all, this was gang related, and gang members didn’t typically snitch.

  A message from Holcombe to Kevin Rourke caught his eye. He stared at it for several seconds, biting down on the inside of his cheek. He would not shout or throw things at his supervisor. She’d done a lot for him, and he knew it.

  That didn’t mean the temptation wasn’t there.

  She must have noticed something about him. Maybe his face had darkened, or maybe it had gotten gray. Maybe the medical instruments stuck to him like new appendages had gone haywire. Luis had no idea. He could only see the words on the screen.

  “Luis, you’ll be perfectly safe. Captain Carey is coming down here, along with Captain Perez. You don’t have to worry; we’re not going to let Tammie Hatch get to you.”

  The world snapped back into focus. “I’m not worried about that, ma’am. Give me my gun back, and I’ll be just fine. It’s Donovan I’m worried about. He just up and took off after an armed-and-dangerous fugitive with nothing to lose, in her own territory, who has already shown she has no regard for law enforcement officers? No. Hell no.”

  He didn’t tell her that Kevin had already brought him his gun. He wasn’t the kind of agent who used his gun often. Guns were permanent solutions, and Luis tended to prefer to leave his suspects alive. Sometimes that couldn’t be done though, and he’d already made that mistake once with this suspect.

  Besides—he no longer had the tools to craft a more peaceful solution.

  Holcombe sighed. “It’s not like he’s going in alone, Luis. He’s got a whole army of state and local officers with them. I know none of them are you, but they are competent.”

  Luis straightened himself up. “I certainly didn’t imply that they weren’t. This is Donovan we’re talking about.”

  She grinned, wry and patient. “It is. And you love him, which makes you terrified of losing him. I get that, believe it or not. But he did find the place where you were. He and this team of people he pulled together did the work, and they found where she was holding you, and they missed rescuing you by maybe half an hour. He’s going to be fine.”

  Luis gnawed on a knuckle. He wasn’t sure how to phrase the gaping anxiety inside of him. On the one hand, he knew anxiety could lie. It did lie, all the time, and he was well aware of the way those lies manifested.

  This wasn’t like that.

  “Hatch is smart,” he said finally. “She’s incredibly smart. She’s also a fanatic.”

  “I see you’ve read up on her.” Holcombe raised an eyebrow. “Is that healthy?”

  Luis squirmed. “Depends on who you ask. The point is, she’s also tough as nails. If she’d decided to go into the military, she’d be their poster child. Her abysmal self-esteem dumped her in Gelens’ lap, but once she’s got her mind set on something, she’s the more dangerous of the two. There’s nothing she won’t do to get what she wants, and right now, what she wants is to not go to jail.”

  “You think she’s liable to do something.” Holcombe leaned forward.

  “I’ll be shocked if she doesn’t. At the very least, she’ll have access to a firearm and try to take out officers who try to arrest her. She’s more likely to be more efficient.” Luis reached out for his water and took a giant gulp.

  “You don’t think this is maybe a little bit of panic?” Holcombe came to sit on the end of his bed. “I know it’s kind of terrifying.”

  “It is. But no.” Luis closed his eyes for a moment. “Look. She doesn’t like to waste time or energy, right? She didn’t tie me up, because she had enough ketamine to knock out all of those beer Clydesdales. She assumed I’d take the bait—water left out for me if I woke up—and just left me to it. But she didn’t care if I overdosed or had a bad reaction—I had already had a bad reaction, and she still left me alone with it.”

  “I’m listening.” The only emotional indicator on Holcombe’s part was a little line on her forehead, that hadn’t been there before.

  “When I turned out not to take the bait, she took more drastic action. She shot me.”

  “In the leg. She wasn’t trying to kill you.” Holcombe glanced at Luis’ leg, still covered by a blanket. Luis didn’t want to have to look at it any more than anyone else did.

  “She left me unconscious and bleeding, ma’am. If I weren’t in the shape I was, I’d have bled out and died down there.” Luis wished he could admit he’d only survived with help. He didn’t like taking credit for other people’s work. “My death wasn’t her goal, but she wasn’t going to waste time worrying about it either.

  “Here, the goal is avoiding prison. If Donovan gets her cornered, she’s not going to just say, ‘Oh, good collar, I’ll go quietly now.’ She’s going to have something up her sleeve.” Luis scrambled to type in the search terms
on his Bluetooth keyboard.

  “I’ll admit she might be a little reluctant to go quietly, but there’s no reason to think she’s going to do something stupid.” Holcombe craned her neck to try to see Luis’ screen.

  Luis bit his lip. For a second, just half a second, he considered knocking her out and just sending Lightfoot after Donovan. Lightfoot wouldn’t solve the problem though. “I’m still relatively new to New England. Forgive me. Gloucester is more of a seaside community, right? Fishing. Boats. Tourism. Fish.”

  “Correct. Why?”

  Luis turned his screen around. “So why would a guy by the name of Hatch be suddenly buying small farm-sized quantities of fertilizer and sending it to a residential address in a town that just does fish?”

  Holcombe paled and pulled out her phone. “Rourke? I want you to get on the phone with everyone involved with this case—now—and tell them the house is likely bombed. Get the bomb squad up from Framingham. And don’t let anyone the fuck near that site.”

  She paused, apparently for Kevin to respond.

  “Just do it. I’ll explain when everyone’s safe. And for the love of God, call Carey first. He’s already heading up there full steam ahead.” She hung up and looked back at Luis. “I know you’re a genius. I know you have a better grasp on the criminal brain than anyone else I know. But you have got to tell me how you figured that one out. You barely spoke with her.”

  Luis blushed and gripped his phone. He couldn’t relax until he heard from Donovan, not yet. “Well, I mean like I laid out for you, most of it is just logic, you know? I read her file. It gets pretty dull in here. It’s not like I can work out.”

  She snorted. “You’re supposed to be doing physical therapy.”

  “There’s only so much of that I can do right now. I’m doing what I can.” Luis looked away. Intellectually, he knew he had to take the time to heal the right way. He still felt helpless, and hated it. “But anyway, I’ve never done well while being idle. So—not idle.”

  “It’s true.” Jose’s voice rang out against the sterile walls of the hospital room. “He always got into trouble if he didn’t have some kind of task. We wound up making him an intern in the evidence room just to give him work to do.” He grinned at the memory. “Fun times. Hey, Agent Holcombe, I got your message while I was on my way here already. What’s going on?”

  “We’ve got a situation.” Holcombe explained why Donovan wasn’t here anymore. “I need to take off and coordinate from the office—more communication is better. But I’m also not willing to leave Luis alone, just in case.”

  “Well, no.” Jose glanced back at Luis. “You finished your testimony today, right?”

  Luis nodded. Fatigue overwhelmed him suddenly, the way it did these days. It was like his body recognized Jose’s presence as making the room safer and sucked out the adrenaline keeping him upright. “Yeah. I hope it was enough.”

  “Well, I hope so too. That Morello guy doesn’t have a lot of witnesses—like, two, I think. Psychiatrists who want to talk about his mental disorder, if I remember correctly.” He curled his lip. “I think he’s grasping at straws, personally.”

  “He’s definitely grasping at straws.” Luis shrugged. “But it’s his job. Everyone gets a fair trial. Even sacks of crap like Gelens.”

  “That just lends more weight to you, Luis. She’s more likely to act out today because on some level she knows Gelens is never going to see the light of day again.” Holcombe shuddered. “Okay. I’m on my way out. I’ll keep you posted. Keep an eye on your tablet. We might need your expertise later.”

  “I was planning to run a marathon around midnight, so you know, keep an eye on the time.” Luis smirked.

  Jose playfully smacked the back of his head. “Don’t sass the boss.”

  Holcombe laughed as she headed out the door, moving so fast it could almost be called a jog.

  Jose stopped grinning and closed the door behind her. “How bad is it?”

  “I think she’s going to blow up half of Gloucester to avoid going to jail.” Luis looked away. “And if I’d just figured it out earlier—”

  “Stop it. You are not the only agent in the FBI. Someone else should have noticed that large fertilizer purchase long before you thought to look. There’s a whole program in Homeland Security for that shit. You did catch it, people are being warned, you’ve done more than anyone could have expected.

  “But that’s not what I’m here to ask.” Jose smiled and sat on the edge of his bed. “How bad is the pain?”

  Luis didn’t meet his eyes. “I can handle it.”

  “Of course you can. From what I’m told, you got all cut up, slapped a Band-Aid on it, and decided you could handle it until you passed out from the infection. How bad is it?”

  “It’s . . . it hurts.” Luis took a breath. “I kind of want to cut it off myself, just to make it stop. But I know that won’t help. And I’m scared for Donovan. So I’m trying to distract myself as best I can.” He waved the tablet. “So I work.”

  Jose covered Luis’ hand with his own. “I’ll wake you if there’s any news. Go ahead and close your eyes.”

  Luis did.

  Luis’ warning about the potential bomb had seemed overwrought at first. The whole reason Donovan hadn’t wanted to tell him where he was going was so Luis wouldn’t worry, wouldn’t get all worked up. He knew Luis wasn’t dealing well with being confined to a hospital room or with the possibility of being restrained to a desk in the future. It was only natural for him to try to find some way to stay involved.

  At the same time, Luis was probably the smartest guy Donovan knew. And when Donovan got the message about the fertilizer, he had to admit Luis’ instincts hadn’t been dulled at all. Maybe he was anxious, and maybe he was struggling with his own identity now. That didn’t mean he wasn’t right.

  The bomb squad discreetly sent a robot into Hatch’s relative’s garage, a converted old barn that predated the house by at least a century, and found it was rigged to flatten everything in a two-block radius. Everything included an elementary school and a day care center. They had to act carefully and quickly to contain the area and make sure civilians were safe.

  The robot showed no sign that Tammie was in the barn—not Tammie, and not anyone else either. That was one good thing. Donovan gave the order to surround the house and jam any outgoing signals—Wi-Fi, cell phone, even the landline got shut off. Local police quietly and systematically evacuated homes nearby.

  Sweat poured down Donovan’s back. Every minute he spent here was time Tammie could be using to escape. He couldn’t justify abandoning a giant fertilizer bomb in the middle of Gloucester to pursue his grudge against one suspect though, even if she had taken Luis hostage.

  Luis would never forgive him if he did.

  A local judge was more than happy to sign a warrant. Donovan didn’t necessarily think he needed one—they had probable cause thanks to Tammie, and then of course they had the fertilizer and the bomb. It was better to err on the side of caution though, especially when they could do so while evacuating civilians. Once everything was in place, a process that took far more time than Donovan would have liked, he donned more body armor than he would normally prefer and approached the front door.

  Kevin was with him, right by his side.

  An older man in sweats that had at best a casual relationship with the washing machine answered the door. His beard was stained with orange dust, likely from some kind of snack food. Donovan almost fell for the surprised innocence in his expression, but the hardness in his eyes gave everything away.

  “What seems to be the problem, Officers?” Joseph Hatch had been born in Chelsea, just like Tammie. He’d gotten a job on a fishing boat and relocated to Gloucester. An accident involving a cruise ship yielded him a better living than the fishing industry ever would, and now, he spent most of his days causing trouble at one North Shore bar or another.

  Having family in local law enforcement all over New England had its advantages. I
f all Donovan had to go by was a police record, he’d only see a string of drunk and disorderly charges and a revoked driver’s license.

  “Please step out of the house.” Donovan wasn’t in the mood to play games.

  “I don’t feel comfortable going outside. It’s cold out there.” Hatch scratched at his belly. “I’m an old man. We like to stay nice and warm.”

  Donovan grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out onto the porch. “We have a warrant to search the premises, as well as a warrant for your arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney and to have that attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney one will be provided for you.”

  As Donovan spoke, he secured Hatch’s hands behind his back. Kevin patted him down. If the look on Kevin’s face was anything to go by, it was an unpleasant experience.

  “You’ve got nothing on me. No reason to arrest me and you know it.” The sweet old man act disappeared once the cuffs were on, but Hatch didn’t resist arrest. He just smirked. “This is America. You can’t just arrest people because you don’t like their relatives.”

  “Actually, you’re under arrest for the weapon of mass destruction in your barn. We’ll file charges about harboring a fugitive after we find evidence, sport.” Donovan faked a grin. “That’s how it works. This is America.”

  Hatch paled and glanced toward the barn. “A man has a right to have fertilizer.”

  “Give the bomb squad some credit, buddy.” Kevin rolled his eyes. “You really think they don’t know what they’re looking at in there? Please. I don’t even work terrorism cases, and I can see you’re not just storing fertilizer. And I know I can’t get that stuff down at the garden center either.”