Dark Duet
Page 16
Time for decisions. What to do now? Shooting Mike he could have covered. Shooting Tracy, his wife? No way. Too many questions.
The first big decision: come clean or cover up?
Sutherland had stood staring at the bodies long enough he knew already that if he were going to call it in, he would have already done it. So the next decision presented itself: what to do with them?
A light went on, a cartoon depiction of an idea. But Sutherland hadn’t had an idea. He turned and saw the neighbor’s back porch light was now burning where before it was dark. He heard the slow shuffling of feet.
“Everything all right over there?” The man’s voice was old, timid.
“It’s okay,” Sutherland said. “Sheriff’s department.”
A tuft of grey hair appeared over the hedge, then a wrinkled face weaving as if the man stood on his tiptoes. Sutherland reached into his shirt and drew out his lanyard with his badge, flashing it in the dim light for the old man to see. “Just go on back inside. I got everything under control.”
“Thought I heard something. Shots maybe.”
“Like I said, I got it taken care of.”
The old man’s head dipped back below the hedge, his legs a few inches too short to offer him a decent view. Sutherland couldn’t be sure what he could see. Probably his eyes were bad and he wasn’t wearing glasses. It was dark and the two bodies didn’t stand out against the bricks. Sutherland tried to put his body between the neighbor and the victims.
The voice had snapped him out of his daze. Now that his blood was flowing, the pain in his leg where Tracy shot him burned like new. He limped when he turned, spinning on one good leg like a lawn sprinkler.
“Just head back inside. Sorry to disturb you.”
“Well, all right. If you say so, Sheriff.”
“You have a good night now.”
“You do the same.”
Sutherland heard the screen door slam shut, then the porch light went out again. He knew he had to do something with the bodies now. First things first, get them out of here.
He limped down the block and brought his car back to the driveway, reversed in so his trunk butted against the pathway to the backyard. He dragged Mike first, held him under his arms and set him in a sit against the back bumper, then popped the trunk. Sutherland took a break, catching his wind and letting the pain in his leg go from raging fire to burning coals.
The body wasn’t easy to muscle in, but Sutherland was working on a full froth of endorphins and jolts of pain to keep him motivated.
He went to Tracy next, but knowing how difficult it was to hoist Mike in from the ground, he bent to scoop her in his arms and carried her like he was crossing the threshold on their wedding night. He limped her down the path to the car, then set her inside the trunk on top of her lover, their chests thumping together and their bullet wounds making mirror images of each other.
Sutherland slammed the trunk.
He stopped at the spigot he’d whacked his knee against and washed off his hands to clean himself of the blood. He knew he should probably do his best to wipe down the crime scene, but he didn’t know how much time he might have. And if he did it right, no one would know this guy was missing for a while so he’d have time to double back and take care of it later. And when the time came, if it came, Sutherland would have some influence about how thorough the investigation was. It was a thin thread, but he held on to it.
He stood up and shook the water off his hands when the phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the number. Cliff, his deputy. Shit. Not one he should ignore if he wanted to give the illusion that all was normal.
“Yeah, Cliff. What is it?”
Cliff was in the car. “Sorry, Chief, for bothering you, but we got a report of shots fired. Thought you’d want to know about it.”
Sutherland tensed. A chill ran through his body from his still-wet hands. “Shots?”
“Yeah. Down at the Smart Mart. I’m headed there now. But, like I said, I figured you’d wanna know. I mean, gunshots, Chief. Damn. We never get those around here.”
Normally Cliff’s adolescent glee when a “real case” came in was an endearing quality to Sutherland. Cliff was a small-town cop with big city ideas of what the sheriff’s department really did. More than once Sutherland had to tell him to tone down his wide grin at a crime scene out of respect for the victim.
“The Smart Mart?” Sutherland exhaled finally. “A robbery?”
“Not sure. It wasn’t the owner who reported it. Someone in the neighborhood. I’ll be there in five.”
Sutherland checked the time on is phone. Keep it normal. Cliff wants you there. On any other night it would be a big deal and you’d show up. You wouldn’t miss the chance to take charge of a real shots fired call. Could be a big case. Not showing would seem suspicious.
“I’ll be there in ten.”
CHAPTER 17
The house was huge, by Bishop standards. Convenience stores and loan sharking seemed to be boom industries.
Garret pocketed the gun as he got out of the car. Kyle got out but looked like he’d just as well stay behind and keep the engine warm.
“You ready?” Garret said.
“Fuck, man. What are we doing?”
“Finishing this.”
“I know but…what are we doing?”
Garret got it. He understood and he felt the same way, even when Kyle hadn’t pulled the trigger. “That first night I said it would work itself out,” Garret said. The looming faux mansion stared down at them, almost daring them to enter. “It didn’t and Trip is dead. We can’t sit this one out. We have to act. It’s way too late to tell my dad. It’s way too late to think he won’t come after us with everything he’s got. It’s too late for any other way.” Garret watched Kyle, saw the gears turning his head. “I’ll keep the gun. All you have to do is back me up, help out if I need it.”
“I got your back,” Kyle said. He held up his own gun. “I snagged it from the Smart Mart. Same one he shot at us with.”
The two friends locked eyes. “It’s two against one,” Garret said.
“Three,” Kyle said. “Trip’s always with us, man.”
Garret nodded. They turned and walked up the path.
The backyard held a rectangular swimming pool with a hot tub attached. They crept past a trio of lounge chairs and past an unlit fire pit. A steel sculpture of an elephant, at least half the scale of a real one, was set to look like it was drinking from the pool. A gaudy bit of kitsch to ruin a perfectly good landscape job. Garret could tell Rafael was not a subtle man.
Garret saw the lights were on in the hot tub, a purple glow. A wine glass, only a sip of white left at the bottom, sat on the edge. Wet footprints led away from the tub to the back of the house to a set of open French doors.
Garret put out a hand to make Kyle duck. Sharp clicking footsteps passed by the doors. When they’d moved on, Garret poked his head out to see a tall brunette in heels and a swimsuit moving deeper into the house. Her hair was slick and tight to her head in a bun as if she’d just come out of the hot tub.
Once she was out of sight, Garret waved Kyle on again and they both made for the open door.
The rear of the house was a long portico in terra cotta tile like some Italian villa. Fake Renaissance paintings and reproduction Grecian vases lined the walkway. A large living room spread out through an archway ahead.
“Nicole, where you at?”
Rafael’s voice panicked the two intruders. Garret waved Kyle away, splitting up down opposite ends of the corridor. Rafael continued to yell from deep within the oversized house. “You take my lighter? I told you it’s for fine cigars, not your faggy-ass menthols.”
Garret quickly reached the end of the portico and found himself at the bottom of a set of stairs. He could hear Rafael moving somewhere in the house behind him and the thought of confronting him frightened Garret. He needed more time. Now there was another person in the hous
e, a potential witness. Trouble. He needed time to make a new plan. He went up the steps.
Kyle moved past the open kitchen. The empty bottle of Chardonnay sat on the counter. He kept moving forward, seeking an escape or at least a place to hide out until Garret had done the deed.
Tough talk outside had given way to stark reality inside. They were here to murder someone. An asshole, sure. A killer himself, fine. But Rafael had surprised them off their game. Kyle needed time to recuperate.
He came to a door sitting slightly ajar at the end of the corridor. He felt the weight of the gun in his pocket but didn’t draw it. He stepped close and peered through the gap but saw nothing that could help him decide if it was safe.
He set the fingertips of his right hand against the thick wood of the door. He pushed forward. The hinges were silent as the door opened wider. He saw an office. Large desk, bookshelves, a flat screen on the wall, a framed Joe Montana jersey and a full-size suit of armor for good measure. Kyle knew now that Rafael did a lot of shopping out of the SkyMall catalog.
Kyle stepped into the office, thinking it was a good place to hunker down and wait. Garret would give him a sign somehow, maybe come find him when it was time. He didn’t want to let his friend down, he just needed to catch his breath.
His lungs constricted and he nearly yelped when the man in the chair came awake. Kyle hadn’t seen the still figure sitting in the shadows, his arms bound to a chair and blood on the floor in front of him. His legs were bloody, his knees specifically. His mouth was swollen so he looked like a man with a rare disease. The bloody man flinched at Kyle, wrestled with his restraints.
“Don’t hurt me,” the man said.
Kyle finally knew more about the man they were up against.
The gun felt good in Garret’s hand. He moved as quietly as he could down the hall past bedroom doors, linen closets, and a bathroom. He tried to think if setting an ambush would be the best way to go. He could park himself in Rafael’s bedroom and wait for him to come to bed. He’d catch the man with his guard down. Maybe the shower would be better. Garret could hide out and wait for him to come brush his teeth or take his last piss of the night, then step out from the shower where he’d been hiding and shoot, getting rid of the threat at last.
Maybe because it was the easier path and it meant putting it off for a while, but Garret liked the idea. He kept moving to the end of the hall toward what he assumed was the master bedroom. The double doors hung slightly open and he pushed them all the way to reveal a king-size bed, fireplace, sixty-inch plasma TV, and a portrait of Rafael himself over the mantle.
He also saw the girl in the heels.
Garret lifted his gun, fear in his eyes where there should be confidence. All she seemed to see was the gun.
“Quiet,” he whispered. “Shut up, shut up,” even though she hadn’t made a sound.
The top of her bikini was off, her caramel-skinned breasts firm and siliconed. She put a manicured hand to her mouth and stifled a scream. Panicky, Garret motioned her toward a walk-in closet.
“Get in. Go.”
She obeyed and he followed after her, pressing his body against hers as he shut the door behind them.
Kyle thought about untying the man, but the thought of leaving him and getting the fuck out of Rafael’s house was winning the argument in his head.
“Did he do this to you?” Kyle asked.
The man didn’t answer. Now that he was awake he seemed to be experiencing his pain like the first time. Tears mixed with the blood on his face.
“Yes. I did.”
Kyle turned at the voice. Rafael stood in the doorway, a length of steel pipe sitting snugly in his hand.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Garret said.
Silent tears rolled in fat drops down Nicole’s cheeks. She made no attempt to cover her breasts.
Garret tried to keep a calm voice. “We’re just here for him.”
He tried to think how this could possibly work to have her stay alive. When he started this, his violence had an endpoint. He realized how foolish a thought that was. One would lead to the next, covering their tracks. Where would it end?
The cold metal of the gun barrel brushed the girl’s nipple and she jerked away. Garret flinched and he felt his hand tighten around the gun. He quickly loosened his grip, fearing what he might do. He looked down and saw her nipples erect in the chill, tiny bumps of gooseflesh dotted her skin. He could see her pulse moving in her neck, a rapid heartbeat matching his in the confines of the closet.
“You don’t want to be here,” she said.
How right she was. Garret thought she must have seen some weakness in him that made her talk. His pale, blood-drained face or his own thumping heart must have given him away. “I told you, we don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m not worried about me, little boy. I’m worried about you.”
“You don’t need to worry about me.”
She stared at him, taking deep breaths to slow her breathing. “You know who he is?”
“I know he killed my best friend.”
“You were friends with Willy?”
Garret made a face. “Who’s Willy?”
“Who’s your friend?”
“None of your fucking business. Now shut up and let me think.” Garret had never spoken that way to a woman before. He’d only seen bare breasts once before, also. To somehow salvage the good guy he knew he still was he said, “Please.”
She stayed quiet.
“Come on out, motherfucker.” Rafael’s voice came through the closet door muffled and far away. With it Garret heard water splashing, he thought.
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck,” he whispered.
“I got your friend,” Rafael shouted.
Garret tensed. Kyle had been found.
“Thought you said your friend was dead,” Nicole said.
“Different guy.”
She watched him improvise a panic dance, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“I could scream, y’know. Bring him right up here.”
Garret turned the gun her way. “Don’t you dare.”
“Then you should leave. Get out over the balcony. You can make the jump if you aim for the bushes.”
Rafael taunted him again from far down below. “He’s not gonna last long, you little shit.” Garret heard more water thrashing sounds and then he realized—they were out by the pool. He opened the closet door and went to the window, peeking out with one eye. He saw Rafael leaning over the pool and pushing Kyle’s head under. Kyle thrashed and kicked up water, but Rafael kept his head submerged.
Nicole appeared at his side.
“I’m not leaving him behind,” Garret said.
“Kid, you are full of some real bad decisions tonight, aren’t you?”
CHAPTER 18
Sutherland pulled into the Smart Mart parking lot. Cliff had the lights on the cruiser lit and spinning blue and red like a “real” crime scene. An ambulance was parked next to the dumpster, but the two paramedics looked bored sitting in the open back. There was obviously nothing they could do for the body lying there.
Cliff came trotting over to Sutherland before he brought the car to a stop. The closer Cliff got, the louder the “Tell-Tale Heart” sounds rang in Sutherland’s ears. To him, the two corpses in the trunk flashed as bright as the colors on top of Cliff’s cruiser.
“Hey, Chief. It’s one of the owners, the brothers. Multiple GSWs and he looks all beat to shit too. Looks like most of the action took place inside.” He gestured to the broken glass door which Cliff had already strung with one anemic length of yellow crime scene tape.
Cliff turned back to Sutherland to explain. “I ran out of tape. You believe that last one made it three years?” He began to move around to the back of Sutherland’s car. “Pop the trunk and I’ll use yours to contain the scene.
Sutherland tensed up, felt his ass cheek clench. “No.” He coul
dn’t get out and go stop his deputy or he’d expose his wounded leg. But he really didn’t want Cliff poking around in the trunk right then. “I’m out too,” he said.
Cliff came back to the window. “You too? Damn. Guess we need to reorder. You want to come out and inspect the scene?”
“No. Nope. You got it. Looks like you’re doing a real nice job on this, Cliff. I want you to take point. Fill me in tomorrow.”
Cliff was a mixture of proud and confused. “Well, you want to call in the coroner?”
“You can do it. I just need to head back and get some sleep. Been having a hell of a time with my insomnia lately.”
“Oh, shit, Chief. I’m sorry I called you so late.”
“No, it’s okay.” He managed a pasted-on smile despite the digging pain in his leg. Sutherland wondered if Cliff saw the sheen of sweat on his forehead.
“Okay. I’ll call it in. I was thinking of canvassing the neighborhood to see if anyone heard anything.”
“Sounds good.” Sutherland could see it in Cliff’s face that he was a pig in shit with a genuine homicide on his watch. And to get to run the investigation? Jackpot. If it kept him busy for a few days and let Sutherland do what he needed to do, then great. And if it meant when a call did come in about Mike’s whereabouts—someone was bound to miss him eventually—then Sutherland could take that case and leave Cliff on his murder.
This might work out. He had all night now to get rid of the two bodies in his trunk and come up with a story about how he hurt his leg. Sutherland backed out of the Smart Mart lot and threw a wave out his window as he drove away.
CHAPTER 19
“You gotta come with me,” Garret said.
Nicole took a step back. “The fuck I do.”
Garret raised his gun, aiming right between her bare breasts. “He’s gonna kill my friend.”
“And you said you’re gonna kill him.”
“Because he already killed my other friend.”