Phoenix: A Hunter Novel

by J. V. Speyer

  “If you want to talk to Tammie, you’re going to have to go in there and get her.” Hatch wrinkled his nose.

  Donovan handed Hatch off to a pair of state troopers in full armor. “Get him out of here. And make sure he’s someplace good and quiet. At his age, I worry about his heart.”

  The troopers nodded and hauled Hatch away. The old man tried to needle them, but they ignored him.

  Donovan turned to Kevin as the bomb squad got ready to examine the house. “I’ve got to know. Why’s a guy like this ready to blow up everyone in a two-block radius for Tammie? My dad’s my dad, sure, but he’s still a murderer. I’m not about to go killing people for him.”

  “You wouldn’t cross the street for him at this point, Donovan, because the man is trash.” Kevin snorted and pulled out his phone.

  “Fair enough.” A small part of him thought he should stick up for Fred, but the rest of him knew Kevin was right. “But seriously—Tammie abducted and shot a federal agent. She did it in an attempt to help a rapist and murderer escape. Why in the name of all that’s holy would he want to kill for her?”

  “Maybe he thinks we’ve got the wrong person. Maybe he doesn’t care. Maybe he’s a Gelens supporter. Who gives a shit?” Kevin stuffed his phone back into his pocket. “For a guy who lost his license three years ago, our boy here has been pretty careful to keep his registration renewed.”

  Donovan scratched his chin just as one of the bomb squad members detailed to go into the house strode out.

  “Lieutenant Carey? Agent Rourke?” He glanced between them.

  Donovan remembered his name at the last second. “Sergeant Bannicker. How can I help?”

  Bannicker wasn’t the kind of guy to mess around. “You can get to a minimum safe distance. This place is wired for sound. Be careful where you step.”

  “Christ.” Donovan didn’t need to be told twice. He picked his way back up the short walkway to the street. “Thank you!”

  “Thank you, sir.” Bannicker waved and headed back inside. More bomb squad people followed him. The rest of the team followed Donovan across the street.

  “What happens now?” This from Scott, Donovan’s brother.

  Donovan ran his tongue against the back of his teeth. “We know she’s capable of hiding out for a while, at least, in the rough. Kevin, what’s the old man’s vehicle?”

  “Ninety-three Cadillac DeVille, blue.” Kevin spouted off a tag number. “Last spotted up by Cherry Street.”

  A local officer snapped his fingers. “She’s going to Dogtown.”

  Donovan recoiled. “She’s going to go torture puppies?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past her.” The local snorted. “I’ve been following the Gelens case. But Dogtown used to be a separate village. It’s a ghost town now, more of a park or a wildlife preserve. There’s nothing left of the buildings but a few cellar holes. It’s called Dogtown Common because people slowly left the village until there was nothing left but abandoned feral dogs.”

  “Well, that’s Tammie, all right.” Donovan tried not to think about the abandoned dogs. It had been centuries. They’d long since stopped looking for their humans. “How big is it?”

  “Massive. If we have to, we’ll cordon it off and wait until daylight.” Kevin was already jogging back toward their cars.

  Donovan wasn’t willing to take that risk. For one thing, Tammie was smarter than that. If they tried to wait until daylight to get to her, she’d have slipped away long before now.

  Donovan’s GPS got him to Dogtown Common quickly. Local police and troopers from the area found less obvious parking areas to seal off, while Donovan, and the other “out-of-towners” blocked the other exits in search of Hatch’s car. It was Kevin who found the car abandoned on the street not far from an entrance, but Donovan was sure she was on-site.

  Gloucester police called for their K-9 unit, a dog by the name of Bruce. Bruce was able to get a scent from the car, which he immediately followed into the woods. Donovan had some reservations about heading into the woods after dark after a dangerous suspect—he’d done that back when he and Luis first reconnected, and both of them wound up injured. Still, he couldn’t see another way around it.

  He followed Bruce’s handler for about a mile down a bumpy trail when a shot rang out. Donovan dove for Bruce and the handler, knocking them to the ground.

  The bullet buried itself harmlessly in a tree.

  Donovan fumbled for his night vision goggles. He hadn’t trained with them much, but he vaguely knew how they worked. He reached for his gun as his eyes adjusted to the weird greenish-yellow tint.

  Tammie was in a tree. She wore sweats that were too big for her, and held a large handgun. That eerie smile she could never drop flashed weirdly in the light.

  She aimed her gun. This time, she aimed for the dog.

  Donovan fired.

  Tammie fell from the tree, screaming obscenities.

  Donovan was on her in less than a second. He kicked her gun away and put the cuffs on her. “Where are you hit?”

  “My leg, you fucking psycho!” She sobbed and thrashed as she fought the cuffs. “You shot me in my leg!”

  He grabbed his flashlight and recited her Miranda rights as he searched for the wound. It didn’t look bad, but looks could be deceiving. He radioed back to the others. “I’ve got the suspect in custody. Suspect is injured with a GSW to the right upper leg. Request backup.”

  Bruce’s handler approached, making Tammie scream and fight even harder. Bruce gave her a look of utter disdain and turned his back on her.

  “I’ve got some gauze pads here.” The handler passed a packet over to Donovan. He opened it and applied first aid to Tammie, who howled.

  He met her eyes. “Do you think Agent Gomes screamed like this when you shot him in the leg? Or when he drove himself to the hospital?”

  She stared at him, shocked into silence. “Who—that pig? You’re mad about that pig? Crunch all you want, buddy. It’s not like they’re not going to make more. Besides, the way I see it, it’s an eye for an eye. He’s the one who sent Santo to jail. If he’s dead, who cares? We’re even now.”

  Donovan grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to her feet. He didn’t try to make her walk on her injured leg. He could have. He could have done a lot. He could have slapped her, punched her, shot her.

  He wasn’t his father.

  “He’s not dead, lady. He’s very much alive. And he’s even got his gun back.” He gave her a thin smile. “And today, he finished his testimony against Santo Gelens. All this? Your whole big stunt of kidnapping him, hurting him, all of it? You going to jail, your uncle going to jail? It might have bought your boy a couple of extra days. That’s it.”

  Kevin came jogging down the trail just in time to see Tammie’s eyes fill with tears. Her face couldn’t fall. She could only smile as she screamed and tried to fight against Donovan, the dirt on her face becoming streaked.

  “Wow, man.” Kevin grinned at Donovan. “If words could kill you’d be looking at a lawsuit.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Luis almost sobbed with relief when Donovan sent him a picture of Hyena Lady—er, Tammie Hatch—in custody. He hadn’t anticipated the scope of the fertilizer bomb, and he itched to get in and interview Tammie’s uncle. Maybe they’d let him, after the surgery.

  The most important thing, though, was Donovan. He was safe. Tammie hadn’t gotten to him. He still had work to do, he couldn’t just leave the crime scene, but he’d make it back to Luis in one piece. That was all Luis needed to hear. He would be able to get to sleep now.

  Okay, he might be sleeping a little more fitfully than usual, but that was only to be expected.

  The doctors did the next surgery on Luis’ bad leg, kept him for another day, and then sent him home. He’d need more surgery, but he didn’t need to lurk in a hospital while waiting for it. At first, he would receive physical therapy at home. Then he’d get to go to a proper therapy provider. Luis was feeling enthusiastic abo
ut finally getting to go back to the town house he shared with Donovan. The stairs inside were another matter, but he’d figure it out.

  Tria was so happy to see him when he got home she didn’t even pretend to be mad. She sniffed at his crutches, tried to climb them, and then when Luis was properly settled onto the couch she seated herself right on the wound and started purring.

  Cats are cats, and will act like cats no matter what.

  The ghosts left them alone for Luis’ first night home. At least, Luis thought they were leaving him alone. Getting home and getting settled in took a lot more out of him than he’d expected, and he spent a good amount of time dozing on the couch he and Donovan had picked out. Then he spent more time, once he’d made his slow and painful way up the stairs, sleeping on comfortable and clean sheets surrounded by the scent of his fiancé.

  The therapist who arrived the next day admitted she was shocked to see he’d made it up and down the stairs.

  Donovan, who’d taken the day off to help Luis get adjusted, just laughed at her. “Ma’am, this is a guy who managed to escape from a kidnapper and rescue her from a burning building even after she put a bullet in his leg. There’s nothing he can’t do, eventually, if he decides he’s going to do it.”

  Luis blushed, but rested his head against Donovan’s shoulder. He didn’t deserve that kind of praise, but he’d bask in it all the same.

  The therapist, a woman by the name of Karina, grinned. “Then I can see we’ll have some fun. First though, we’ve got to get the leg ready.”

  Getting the leg “ready” wasn’t as bad as Luis thought it might be. Karina had a portable TENS unit that she used to stimulate muscles he couldn’t move on his own yet, and it actually felt kind of nice. He let himself enjoy it for a little while, while she outlined what she intended to do.

  “After a few weeks we’ll reevaluate with your doctor, and we’ll move you over to the office. You might be cleared to do some nonimpact physical activity by then, like swimming. I get the impression that’s going to be important for you.” She grinned again, just a little, and he was able to laugh at himself.

  “You’re not wrong.”

  She didn’t pat him on the shoulder or anything, but she gave him a confident nod. “Well, I won’t make any promises. There are a lot of possible complications, and sometimes, our bodies just don’t do what we want them to do. But even if we have some setbacks, we’ll work through them. Okay?”

  Luis didn’t like feeling like the victim here one little bit. But he smiled and nodded anyway. Karina was a professional, and he had full confidence in her ability to get him back to full strength.

  Captain Lightfoot showed up maybe half an hour after Karina left, with Millie in tow. “I’m just checking in with ye, lawman.” Lightfoot looked Luis over. “Seems the hospital didn’t mess ye up too badly. Ye’ve still got yer leg, at least. In my day, that wasn’t bloody likely.”

  Luis snickered. “Yeah, well. We can do amazing things with antibiotics these days. Although, apparently, the leg’s always going to be held together with plates and screws.” He tried not to shrug. He didn’t mind if he had a bit of metal in there, as long as the burning sensation stopped.

  “What, like actual metal inside yer leg? The future is amazing. I’m glad I stuck around to see it.” Lightfoot nudged Millie, who seemed fascinated by the flat-screen TV. “Miracles will never cease, eh, my dear?”

  “It does seem that way, darling.” She turned to face Luis and now Donovan, who’d just walked into the room. “Oh, it’s that nice man. He looks much better than he did the last time we saw him.”

  Luis blushed. “I’m sure he was a bit of a wreck the last time. He’d been through a lot.”

  Donovan grinned in the direction Luis was looking. “I can’t thank you enough. If it hadn’t been for you, we’d never have known where to start looking.”

  Luis took Donovan’s hand. “And if it weren’t for you—and Mike and Boom-Boom—I’d have died there on the floor. Thank you so much for everything.”

  Neither Millie nor Lightfoot blushed. They couldn’t. They had no blood. Millie did duck her head and try to hide her face in Lightfoot’s coat though. Lightfoot waved a hand. “Think nothing of it, my friends. You’ve done plenty of good for me and others like me. And you’ll do more, I know it. I do have a question for you.”

  Luis tried to straighten up. “Sure. What is it?”

  “Would you be at home for Mike or Boom-Boom?”

  Luis didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

  Donovan nodded his agreement. “Absolutely.” He looked down at Luis. “What did I just agree to?”

  Luis chuckled. Donovan was getting so good at pretending to know what Lightfoot was saying Luis could forget he couldn’t actually see or hear him. “Visits from the other ghosts who helped me. We might just want to keep a fire extinguisher on hand. You know. Reasons.”

  Millie laughed. It was a beautiful sound, in spite of her deceased condition, and Luis found himself relaxing. “You’re a joy to be around, Agent Gomes.” Millie smiled at him. “I hope you don’t mind if we don’t move on, but stay here and enjoy the world a little longer.”

  Donovan sat gingerly beside Luis, and Luis leaned into him.

  “It’s not my place to object.” Luis smiled up at Millie. “You were already forced into a bad situation, and then you were stuck—trapped in the hospital. Captain Lightfoot here helped break that chain. As long as you’re choosing to be here, and you’re not out there causing havoc or anything, I’m the last person who gets to tell you no.”

  She beamed at him. So did Lightfoot.

  “And the same goes for Mike and Boom-Boom, when they come to visit. I want to help them, but I feel like enough choices have been taken away, if you know what I mean. I don’t want people to be trapped. If you want to be here, then I’m sure not going to stop you.” Luis took a breath. “Even if I were the kind of guy to say all ghosts had to move on—and I’m not—I owe all of you more than I could ever repay.”

  Donovan nodded. “We both do. You’re family. Even if I can’t see or hear you, you’re still welcome here.”

  Lightfoot seemed to glow a bit, and not the malevolent glow he usually carried with him. “Thank ye,” he said in a gruff tone. Then he and Millie disappeared.

  Luis couldn’t move around much, so he had plenty of time to research cases that might be connected to Boom-Boom. It wasn’t easy. Not all of the records were digitized, and even after all this time, privacy laws still applied. Fortunately, Alex Morales was equally bored, and before he’d become an agent, he’d served the Bureau with his computer skills.

  Luis wasn’t above networking, when the situation called for it.

  Mike was the first one to show up, arriving the next day at around noon. He was still dressed in his 1930s or ’40s suit, complete with a hat, but he seemed a little more comfortable with the modern technology and layout than Millie was. “Nice place you’ve got here.” He glanced around. “I’m glad they finally let you out of the joint. I wanted to come up and check in on you, but I couldn’t.”

  “I can’t imagine why not.” Luis laughed a bit. “If I’d been stuck in a hospital for eighty years, I’d have a hard time setting foot in one again myself. They treated me well though. No priests, no problems. Just really good care for my leg.” He winked. “And hey—I’d probably have lost the leg if it weren’t for you and the others. Thank you for that.”

  Mike beamed. “Hey, anything for my buddy.” He sat down on the other end of the couch. “I’ve been thinking, an awful lot. I looked up my son, but he passed a few years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “He had a good life. Three sons of his own. And they had kids. Except for what happened, you know, my boy lived pretty well. I feel bad that I wasn’t there for him. But I can still help other kids.” He glanced out the window. “I’ve still got work to do. But I feel better now, you know? I feel like I can see better who I need to go after. Who’s hurting kids a
nd who isn’t.”

  Luis nodded. “That seems to be pretty normal, after death. I’m not an expert, but from what I’m told, that’s part of the healing process.”

  “I want to stay and keep working. Do you—do you think that’s okay?”

  Luis took a breath. “The federal agent side of me is supposed to say no one is supposed to take the law into their own hands. The rest of me knows I couldn’t stop you if I wanted to. And, frankly, you can see better than I can exactly what you’re dealing with. You’re my friend, Mike. And I’d love for you to keep experiencing the world. There’s so much out there to see and do. And if you happen to find someone who’s hurting kids, well, I’m not going to object.”

  Mike grinned. “So you’re okay if I come visit every once in a while?”

  “I’d be sad if you didn’t!” Luis reached out to shake Mike’s hand.

  “Thanks, Gabe.”

  “Thank you, Mike.”

  Boom-Boom showed up that night. Donovan was home. He’d brought an extra fire extinguisher, just in case.

  Boom-Boom had found some pants. It was the first indication that he was starting to heal. He still wasn’t well. Anyone could see that. If nothing else, the flies were a big clue, buzzing around his spectral form like he still had something to offer them. He sidled into the living room and lurked in the corner, muttering to himself.

  “Hey.” Luis kept his voice soft. “Thanks for coming by. I wanted to say thank you for helping me. I wouldn’t have made it out of there without your help.”

  Boom-Boom stilled.

  “I took the liberty of looking up your case. Is that okay with you?” Luis’ mouth went a little dry. To say Boom-Boom could be volatile was putting it mildly. Still, he had to try.

  Boom-Boom edged closer to Luis.

  “You were placed in the custody of the Department of Mental Health when you were ten, after your father died and your mother was incarcerated. You weren’t verbal. They didn’t have a diagnosis that fit you at the time, and it would be difficult to give you one now. But I did find a name that fit.