Phoenix: A Hunter Novel

by J. V. Speyer

  “The jury did recommend a death sentence for you, Mr. Gelens. And I did consider it—strongly. That said, upon the recommendation of a majority of families, I have decided to give you a sentence of life, without the possibility of parole. You have no remorse for your crimes. You are certain to reoffend, were you to be released. You view people as objects, tools to further your interests, rather than as individuals with their own lives, hopes, and dreams.

  “Furthermore, I sentence you to an additional fifty years for the child pornography sentence, to be served consecutively. Mr. Gelens, you will never breathe free air again. Bailiff, take Mr. Gelens into custody, please.” Sullivan banged his gavel and then rose. “This court is adjourned.”

  Everyone rose, Luis included. He couldn’t feel anything for Gelens. He hadn’t expected a death sentence, not from a Massachusetts jury, and he hadn’t wanted one either. Gelens didn’t deserve the gift of life, but he didn’t deserve the massive outpouring of money spent on a death row inmate either.

  The bailiff hustled Gelens out of the courtroom, not into the custody of the sheriff’s office but into the waiting arms of federal corrections officials. Sullivan exited to his chambers, and the rest of the observers filed out of the courtroom.

  Some family members were crying. Luis could understand that. Sentencing could be a catharsis, and it could be frustrating too. So many families found their feelings of grief and rage and pain unabated after the final gavel pounded, even though they expected to somehow feel better. Luis tried to prepare them, but nothing really could.

  A clerk in a gray suit approached Luis and his companions. “Agent Gomes? Judge Sullivan will see you now.”

  Luis followed, Donovan by his side and Patricia and Jose behind them. Patricia had, predictably, been upset when Jose told her their plans. She’d ultimately given in with good grace though, and today she turned up with as much joy as anyone could wish.

  They slipped into Sullivan’s chambers. Luis hadn’t been back here before. The lawyers were the ones to deal with the judges, unless they were getting warrants, and Luis usually let the higher-ups do that. Sullivan’s chambers weren’t much more than an elegant office, with some memorabilia from some of the more exciting trials he’d handled and one folded-up American flag in a glass-fronted case in the corner.

  The judge himself, out of his robes, rose to meet them. He shook hands with everyone, Luis first. “Thank you for speaking to the families like that, Agent. It’s pretty far outside typical protocol, but I couldn’t just let those words stand.”

  He pulled a piece of paper from a file in his drawer. “Shall we get started?”

  Luis stared at the paper. He knew what it was, even without looking at the words. That piece of paper was his marriage license. Luis and Donovan, officially and legally a family. This was it. This was forever.

  His palms got damp. He wiped them on his pants. “So how do we do this?”

  Sullivan chuckled. “All right. How about this? Do you, Luis Gomes, take this man, Donovan Carey, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

  Luis didn’t have to think about it. “I do.”

  “And do you, Donovan Carey, take this man, Luis Gomes, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

  Donovan swallowed hard. “I do.”

  “All right. If you could each sign here—it doesn’t matter which one is Spouse One or Spouse Two. Very good. And if we could get Mom and Dad to sign here and here as witnesses. Fantastic. All right. With the power vested in me by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss the groom.”

  Luis leaned on his crutch and pulled Donovan in for a kiss. Kisses for public performance aren’t usually satisfying for anyone involved, but it wasn’t the first time Luis had put on a show. He kissed Donovan deep and thoroughly, molding his body to Donovan’s in promise of what was to come later.

  Married life didn’t necessarily feel different to Donovan. It would, he knew, especially around tax time. Or the next time Luis got injured and Donovan didn’t have to get the FBI’s okay to get into his hospital room, regardless of who was listed as his emergency contact. But for now, there weren’t any significant changes.

  And Donovan was okay with that. He wouldn’t have gotten married if he wasn’t happy with Luis, and he knew Luis felt the same way.

  They would take a honeymoon after Luis’ first semester at Harvard ended, when he was (hopefully) in better physical condition and able to enjoy travel a little more. For now, the work continued, and both of them were willing to wait.

  The gang member who’d killed Fitch was a twenty-year-old man by the name of Evan Harrison. He’d been born in Chicopee and kind of drifted into a life of crime, following two brothers and his own father. Luis referred to him as the “anti-Donovan,” and Donovan could see where that was the case.

  Harrison had no remorse at all for what he’d done. He was only annoyed that he’d been caught. Donovan wasn’t surprised at that either.

  While the Constitution guaranteed the right to a speedy trial, Harrison’s case was complicated by the competing jurisdictions involved. Kevin, who’d been a lawyer briefly before deciding the FBI was where it was at, tried to explain it. “The investigation that brought your guys and Morales to his door was a joint investigation, right? State and federal. So there’s an actual army of lawyers and a few judges trying to figure out whether or not Fitch’s murder is a federal case or state. And if it’s federal, it carries a death sentence.” He tugged at his tie, as if it had become too tight.

  Donovan sat back and tried to process Kevin’s words. “I’m not sure how I feel about that. What does Fitch’s family think?”

  “They’d like to see him fry, even though we don’t use the chair anymore. But they’re still reeling from the loss. I don’t know. It’s not like it would bring Fitch back.” Kevin heaved a sigh. “It’s not much of a deterrent. Everyone knows this. No one sits there and thinks, ‘Well, I’d better not shoot this cop because I’ll get the death penalty!’ They think, ‘I’m not going to jail, not today.’ And that’s that.”

  Donovan looked out the window. “You’re not wrong. To be honest, if people started using their brains, we could probably lay off ninety percent of our workforces. I’m not going to lie. I mostly agree. I’m not a fan. There’s still a part of me, the part of me that sent Fitch out there, that chose him for that assignment, that wants to get revenge. And I ain’t proud of it.”

  Kevin huffed out a little laugh. “It’s understandable, Donovan. It’s not your fault, obviously. Harrison would have made his choices no matter what, and no matter who. We’re certainly not going to go ignoring major drug trafficking and even human trafficking just because they might get violent. We took the appropriate precautions. Sometimes shit happens, and we have to roll up our sleeves, get a mop, and deal with it.”

  “Yeah. I know.” Donovan sucked in his cheeks. “Luis said almost the same thing.”

  “Well, I’m not about to hug you to make it feel better—”

  Donovan had to laugh. “Yeah, still newlywed here. Let’s not.”

  “But he is getting his doctorate in feelings and brains and stuff. So maybe listen to him.” Kevin winked. “At least when he’s not pretending to deal with his own shit.”

  “He’s getting better about that. At least he admits when he’s not dealing well.” Donovan shrugged. “He’s doing better than I expected with that honestly. He’s talking with Father Geoffrey, he’s not trying to push past where his body will allow, and he’s actually talking when he needs to.”

  “Will wonders never cease?” Kevin snorted. “It’s good that he’s taking care of himself though. We’ll see how he’s doing once the trial starts.”

  Nguyen’s road to recovery was going to be even longer than Luis’. She’d lost her leg entirely, and it was going to be a while before she could be fitted for a prosthesis. She opted to retire on disability rather than let the department try to create a position for her. “I don’t th
ink I could handle seeing everyone else get to leave the office and have to sit behind a desk.” She shuddered. “Even if I eventually got so good with the prosthetic that I could go back out into the field, getting there would be more than I could handle. I’m actually going to take a page out of Agent Gomes’ book.”

  Donovan blinked at her for a second. “You’re . . . getting a cat?”

  She scoffed at him. “I’m going to go back to school. Pursue academia. I’ve got a good amount saved, and I’ll have money coming in from retirement. Maybe I can go on to teach at the academy, or even in the criminal justice department at a college or university. It doesn’t have to be a lot, but at least I’ll still be using my training and my brain.”

  Donovan shook her hand and smiled, even though he had to blink back tears. “I won’t say I’m not going to miss you. You’re a damn fine detective.”

  “Yes, I am. And I’m going to miss the work. But I know myself, Lieutenant. I’d rather focus on building something new than have something I worked so hard to achieve right there in front of me, just out of my grasp.”

  “I can’t fault that decision. You always did have a good head on your shoulders. I genuinely hope you’ll keep in touch, as a friend at the very least.”

  “That’s a promise.” Nguyen’s smile was radiant as Donovan left her side. He noticed she already had graduate school sites open on her laptop.

  Jose had taken a decent amount of family leave, so he was still in Boston when Tammie Hatch had her first pretrial hearing. Unlike Evan Harrison, there was no confusion about jurisdiction for Tammie. She’d interfered with a federal trial, she’d assaulted (and tried to kill) a federal law enforcement officer, and she and her uncles had tried to bomb a town. An entire town. That was federal.

  She had the temerity to ask Morello to defend her. Morello laughed in her face. “Everyone has the right to representation, Ms. Hatch, but I literally cannot defend you. I’ve already been subpoenaed by the prosecution—seeing as how you involved me in your abduction.”

  No other private attorneys would take the case either, so Hatch was forced to make do with a public defender. Luis was twitchy about that. Apparently, the Justice Department had decided to seek the death penalty in Tammie’s case, both because she’d tried to kill a federal agent and because of the whole terrorism thing. Donovan once again found himself ambivalent.

  She initially pled not guilty. Donovan had no idea how that was supposed to work, but she had the right to lie he guessed.

  Prosecutors asked to meet with her, her attorneys, and Judge Sullivan. After a moment’s thought, Sullivan invited Luis to be part of the meeting. “I wouldn’t normally do this,” he advised everyone, “but in this case, I think it’s important.”

  And so Luis and Donovan got dressed up for court. They drove down to Boston and went back to the very chambers in which they’d been married, where they sat down at a table with Fahey, Sullivan, Hatch, and her defender.

  “It’s not my fault.” Tammie’s permanent grin seemed especially vile when she looked Luis up and down. “My uncle’s pissed at you, by the way. You wrecked artwork that had lasted forty years.”

  “He can die mad.” Luis flashed her an insincere grin and turned his attention back to the situation at hand.

  “Ms. Hatch.” Fahey cleared her throat. “I’m aware that you insist the abduction was not your fault.”

  “It wasn’t. Santo put me up to it.”

  “The power to say no was still yours, or it would have been had you been telling the truth. But you’re not.” Fahey gave her a thin smile. “Surely, you know every conversation in prison is recorded.”

  Tammie’s smile never faltered. Her eyes didn’t widen. She couldn’t make either expression. The color did drain from her face.

  “You suggested the scheme. Gelens went along with it, of course. He gave you pointers. But you were the one to initiate the crime. And the bombs were your brainchild too. Your uncle told us so. He definitely didn’t mind blowing up the town he’d been living in for fifty years, but he wouldn’t have done so on his own. You’re the one who set that whole thing in motion.” Fahey leaned forward just a little. “No one’s coming to save you, Tammie. I’m going to offer you a deal—one time only. You plead guilty and take life.”

  Tammie swallowed, hard. “And if I don’t?”

  Luis cleared his throat and reached out. He put his hand over Tammie’s. “I didn’t ask them to seek the death penalty. I don’t like you, and I think you’re dangerous, but I’m not a fan of that particular punishment. I might be able to get you out of a death sentence for what you did to me because you didn’t actually kill me.

  “The bombs are a different story. The fact that no one died is just coincidence. The administration wants to look tough on crime. They want to look tough on terror, and they’re desperate enough for a win that they’ll overlook every mitigating factor. They’ll find a way to loop Gelens in. You did everything you did to try to save him. Do you really want to be the one to get him killed?”

  Tammie tried to stare Luis down, but she couldn’t do it. Not when she didn’t have any power over him. “Fine. I’ll plead guilty if the death penalty is off the table.”

  “The people accept.” Fahey quickly turned to Sullivan.

  “I approve of this arrangement.” Judge Sullivan passed the plea agreement document to Tammie, who signed it and handed it to Fahey. “I’ll go tell the jury the good news.” Sullivan returned to the courtroom, and the bailiff returned to bring Tammie to face the rest of her life.

  Fahey shook Luis’ hand before leaving with the public defender. Donovan was alone with Luis now.

  “You actually intervened to save the person who did all that to you?” Donovan only glanced down at Luis’ leg once. He didn’t have to do more.

  “Not so much. I mean it was Fahey’s idea, but she did feel me out on the subject before approaching anyone else about it.” Luis moistened his lips. “I . . . I mean, you already know how I feel about capital punishment. Especially given the other stuff.” He glanced around, and Donovan knew he meant seeing ghosts. “But it’s more than that. If I let her, and what she did, change who I am, then she wins and I lose.

  “My whole reason for going into law enforcement, as someone from a background that doesn’t have great relationships with the cops, has always been to help. To save lives. I’m not always able to do that, but I have to take every opportunity given to me. I don’t have a choice, you know? It’s part of who I am. Tammie’s gone through a lot. She let it become an excuse for why she did some really bad shit. But she can still change. She can do some good, even if it’s behind bars. I don’t want to be part of taking lives. I want to save lives.”

  Donovan wrapped his arms around Luis. “And that’s why you’re here.”

  Luis chuckled. “I’m here because I found someone who makes me feel like I can save lives.” And then he kissed him.

  Also by J. V. Speyer

  Prodigy (2020)

  Hollywood Lighting (2020)

  Faith (2019)

  Absolution (2019)

  Hunter (2018)

  Professional Courtesy (2018, MLR Books)

  Snowed In: Ross and Ashton (2019, JMS Books)

  Paper Hearts (2019, JMS Books)

  Whirlwind (JMS Books, 2018)

  Carriage House (NineStar Press, 2017)

  The Dented Crown (2017)

  Rites of Spring (Less Than Three, 2017)

  Starlit (MLR Books, 2017)

  Midnight (Less Than Three, 2016)

  About the Author

  J. V. Speyer has lived in upstate New York and rural Catalonia before making the greater Boston, Massachusetts, area her permanent home. She has worked in archaeology, security, accountancy, finance, and nonprofit management. She currently lives just south of Boston in a house old enough to remember when her town was a tavern community with a farming problem.

  J. V. finds most of her inspiration from music. Her tastes run the gamut from tr
aditional to industrial and back again. When not writing, she can usually be found enjoying a baseball game or avoiding direct sunlight. She’s learning to crochet so she can make blankets to fortify herself against the cold.

  You can get exclusive updates, cocktail recipes, and other notes here: http://eepurl.com/dtlwBH

  www.jvspeyer.com

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