Blood Legacy

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Blood Legacy Page 17

by C. M. Sutter


  “Probably. Chances are Dr. Ramsey has already scheduled it. It’s going to be a wait-and-see situation. Meanwhile, check in with Sheriff Burke and see if they’ve retrieved those shell casings from the site yet.”

  “On it.” I dialed the sheriff’s cell phone, but it kept going to voice mail. “Humph. Maybe they’re at the scene right now. I can’t get through to him, and you know how unreliable the cell service is in that area.”

  “Then try the sheriff’s office instead. They should know where he’s at.”

  “Okay.” I dialed that number, and someone at the front counter picked up.

  “Meagher County Sheriff’s Office. Is this an emergency?”

  “No, ma’am. This is Agent Monroe from the FBI. I was wondering if Sheriff Burke is there. I tried his cell and can’t get through.”

  “He and several deputies left about an hour ago for Lewis and Clark National Forest. They’re working on getting those shell casings for you, Agent Monroe.”

  “Great. I assumed as much. If he checks in, will you let him know we’re on our way back with Mrs. Philips? She’ll be admitted to Mountainview as soon as we get there.”

  “I certainly will.”

  I thanked her and hung up.

  “Sounds like he’s at the site?”

  “That’s what the receptionist said. Hurry up and wait, as always.” I watched the scenery pass by out my window then glanced at the side mirror. “Geez! That motorcyclist is coming up really fast. He better slow his ass down before he hits our rear bumper.”

  Renz checked the rearview mirror. “What the hell is his problem?”

  I looked out my window again just as he sped up alongside us. Then everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Wearing his black full-face helmet, the rider gave me a nod, reached inside his jacket, and pulled out a gun.

  “Renz! Gun!”

  I ducked just as bullets blasted through the passenger-side window and glass exploded all over me. Renz swerved into the median. The car fishtailed then bounced up on the other side. We nearly wiped out an oncoming truck. Horns blared, and cars hit the ditch. Renz cranked the wheel, and we ended up back in the median at fifty miles an hour as he tried to regain control of the car.

  “Get your gun, Jade, and fire back!” Renz made a hard right, and the car leapt back onto the highway. I ducked again as another spray of bullets took out our windshield.

  “Son of a bitch!” I ripped my weapon from my purse and rapid fired at the motorcycle. Cars around us nearly crashed into each other to avoid being caught in the crossfire. Renz yelled, and I spun toward him.

  “Shit, I’ve been hit in the shoulder!” He slammed on the brakes. The car slid sideways and finally came to a screeching stop.

  I fired off the remaining bullets until the motorcycle disappeared from view. “Damn it, Renz, are you sure it’s only your shoulder and nothing else?” He checked the rest of his body as I grabbed my phone and called Tyler in the transport vehicle ahead of us. “We’ve been ambushed, Tyler. Pull over. We need the paramedic’s help right away. Agent DeLeon has been shot!”

  The brake lights flashed, and the transport vehicle pulled into the median. I made another quick call, that time to 911, and reported that we needed immediate assistance nine miles north of Livingston on Highway 89. I said FBI agents had been fired on and one was hit. A black sport bike with a driver wearing a black full-face helmet and a denim jacket had emptied a pistol on us. The culprit was going north at a high speed on Highway 89. When Tyler and the paramedic exited the van, I leapt from our car.

  The back doors swung open, and Sheila yelled, “What can I do?”

  “Agent DeLeon has been shot in the shoulder. You need to stay with Tara. I’ve already called 911 for more assistance.”

  Carly ran to our car. “Agent DeLeon, I’m going to need you to come to the van with me. We’ve got medical supplies in the back.”

  Renz groaned as he pulled himself out from behind the wheel and walked with Carly to the van.

  “Renz, where is your weapon?”

  He grunted as he took a seat on the bumper of the van. “In my go bag.”

  I ran to the car, opened the trunk, and pulled out both bags. I didn’t like the idea of being sitting ducks if our assailant decided to come back for a second attempt on us. At the van, I dropped the magazine from my Glock and reloaded.

  “Damn it.” I shielded my eyes and looked up the road.

  Renz shook his head. “Don’t get any ideas. You aren’t going after him alone in a car without a windshield. He could be anywhere by now, so let the deputies look for him. We can’t sit out here in the open like this for long, and Tara needs to get to the hospital.”

  I looked at Renz’s blood-soaked shirt and knew he was right. “And so do you.”

  Carly spoke up. “I’ve stopped the bleeding and have him bandaged well enough for now. He’ll be okay until we get to the hospital.”

  Tyler craned his neck back and forth as he watched the highway. “Which way are we going, Agents? Back to Livingston or on to White Sulphur Springs?”

  Renz piped up. “We’re continuing on as soon as the deputies get here.” He looked at me. “Do you think you can get the car to White Sulphur Springs without a windshield?”

  “As long as I wear sunglasses to block the wind and stay on your rear bumper, yeah, I can do it. You can jump in the back with Tara.”

  “Not happening. I’m riding with you, and if he tries another attempt, two guns are better than one.”

  I rolled my eyes. “And since when can you shoot left-handed?”

  “If it’s necessary, which I hope it won’t be, I’ll figure it out.”

  Sirens were getting closer behind us, and I was relieved. I would give the deputies a brief summary of what went down, they could put out a BOLO for the bike—at least the description of the motorcycle and what the driver was wearing—then begin a search. I was told roadblocks were going up at the Clyde Park exit and also at Wilsall. The sheriff’s office was sure the shooter hadn’t gotten farther than that yet. Renz explained to the deputies that we were continuing to White Sulphur Springs. Two units offered us an escort to the county line, which would get us farther than the halfway point, and they said the Meagher County Sheriff’s Office would take over from there. We happily accepted.

  Forty minutes later, we reached Mountainview Medical Center without incident. Several doctors, including Dr. Ramsey, were waiting at the emergency entrance. As I drove, Renz called and gave them a heads-up about what had happened. Dr. Ramsey’s team wheeled Tara away, and Renz was taken to a room where his gunshot wound would be addressed. I thanked Tyler, Sheila, and Carly for their help then went to locate Dr. Barnes, who had been overseeing Jane’s care.

  At the nurses’ station on the ICU floor, I asked for him by name. Minutes later, he approached me with a frown.

  “Agent Monroe, are you okay? You look frazzled.”

  I sighed. “I’ve had better days, but I’m fine. I need to know about Jane Doe. Has she come around yet?”

  “We took her off all sleep medications last night. If she’s going to wake up, she has to do it on her own. We have seen promising signs, though. Her eyelids have begun to flutter, and her fingers have been twitching.”

  “Those are good signs, then?”

  “They are. She could wake up anytime now.”

  “Thank God. We really need her to wake up and remember everything. Her statement may very well hold other lives in the balance.” I handed my card to the doctor, told him to call me the second she came around, and turned to walk away. I stopped in my tracks and looked back. “Dr. Barnes?”

  “Yes?”

  “When Jane wakes up, will she be taken to a private room?”

  “Possibly, if her vitals are stable.”

  “What are the chances of her having a roommate?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t see a problem as long as she’s all right with it.”

  I smiled. “Okay, we’ll talk more about th
at later.”

  I returned to the ER and asked if I could sit in with Renz. They pointed me to the curtained cubicle, where I found him reclined on a table and talking to the doctor.

  “What’s going on in here?” I teased.

  The doctor looked over his shoulder and shook his head. “You can’t be in here.”

  Renz cut in. “She’s my partner, and it’s okay.” He looked at me. “The doctor is trying to talk me out of removing the bullet.”

  I frowned. “Why?”

  The doctor, who had the name K. Everly embroidered on his lab coat, said removing the bullet was unnecessary since it hadn’t damaged arteries or cracked any bones. It was better left alone.

  I shook my head along with Renz. “We need that projectile. It’s evidence in a case we’re working.”

  “You sure?”

  “One hundred percent, yes.”

  “Okay, if you two say so. I’ll prep you for surgery, Agent DeLeon.”

  My phone rang just as Renz took a seat in the wheelchair. “Call me the second they let you use your phone. I’ll be here for the foreseeable future.” He nodded as he was wheeled away, then I answered my phone. “Agent Monroe speaking. Thank God it’s you, Sheriff Burke. I’m sure you know all about the ambush. What? You’ve got to be shitting me! That’s the best news I’ve heard in nearly a week. I’ll be right there.”

  Chapter 51

  I bolted out of the hospital and headed for the sheriff’s office only a few blocks away. The Park County deputies had apparently come across the assailant while he was trying to hide his broken-down motorcycle in the tall grasses off the highway. Apparently, a few of my bullets had hit the mark—his rear tire was blown out and one bullet grazed his left calf. He was shit out of luck. He had no wheels, and he wasn’t capable of getting far on foot. He was passed off to the deputies in White Sulphur Springs, had his leg addressed, and was sitting in an interrogation room. The guy was a trapped rat, and we would finally solve the case. I was eager to share the news with Renz, but he was in surgery, so I made a quick call to Taft as I drove.

  “Boss, I only have a minute to talk. Renz was shot in the shoulder by our perp, but he’ll be okay.” I pulled the phone away from my ear as she cursed. Then I continued. “Maureen, I promise you, Renz will be fine. The sheriff in Park County has the projectiles from Tara and Byron. We’ll have the one from Renz’s shoulder soon, and they all need to be compared to one another at the crime lab here in White Sulphur Springs.”

  “How fast can they get that done?”

  “I don’t know since the slugs aren’t in my possession yet.”

  “Find out. If it’s more than twenty-four hours, have them sent express delivery to us. I can have the results in three hours.”

  “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something. Sheriff Burke should have gotten the shell casings from the rifle that shot the cougar. I’ll find that out in a few minutes. He was supposed to drop them off at the county crime lab to check for prints. The best news is that the guy who shot at us is already in custody. We’ll print him, and if those prints match the ones on the casings, if there are any, I’m pretty sure this character is going down for murder and attempted murder. We could wrap this case by tomorrow if everything goes our way.”

  “Thank God. Call me back the second you know something,” Taft said.

  “Roger that.” I hung up, parked, and ran into the building.

  The receptionist waved me through. “Sheriff Burke is expecting you, Agent Monroe. Go on in.”

  I rushed into his office, and a grin spread across Clay Burke’s face. “I think we’ve got the culprit, Jade.”

  “Damn straight we do.”

  “First things first, how’s Lorenzo?”

  I swatted the air jokingly. “He’s tough as nails. He’ll be fine. Actually, the doctor didn’t want to remove the slug, but we told him we needed it for evidence. Speaking of that, did you get the casings?”

  “Yep. The crime lab is printing them now, and we’ve already printed the perp who shot Agent DeLeon. Also, Sheriff Johnson is having a deputy drop off the slugs from Tara and Byron. They should arrive soon.”

  I let out a relieved sigh. “I’m guessing the prints will match. Now all we need is for those prints to be in the database. I don’t have any doubts that the slugs will match too. Things are finally starting to turn around.”

  “So, how do you want to handle him?” Sheriff Burke stood, tipped his head to the left, and wagged his finger at me. “Come on. Let’s go watch him squirm.”

  “Gladly.”

  We stepped into the observation room and sat down. Looking through the one-way glass, I stared at a guy who looked to be in his mid-thirties. He had dark slicked-back hair and an average build, just like Tara had described the man she’d seen in the woods with Jane. It had to be him.

  “Has he said anything?”

  “Nope, not a single word. No name, no nothing. Completely tight-lipped.”

  “Hmm. He’s been processed, though? Prints and photo?”

  “Both.”

  “Maybe I can scare him into talking. I mean, he’s already on the hook for trying to kill Renz and me. He didn’t have a wallet or an ID on his person?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Damn it, that seems to be a common theme with these people. That Malcolm character didn’t either. I can’t pretend that Jane identified him by the picture because I wouldn’t be calling her Jane. I’d know her real name.”

  “But Tara Philips saw him. You can say she identified him as the man who was with Jane and possibly as the man who killed Byron.”

  “That might work,” I said. “He has no idea that she’s still sedated, but unless he’s in the system, we still won’t know his name.”

  “Until Jane wakes up.”

  “And I hope to God that she does.” I pointed my chin at the man sitting on the other side of the glass. “Shall we?”

  The sheriff nodded. “There’s no time like the present.”

  Together, we entered the interview room. I glanced at the corner-mounted camera to make sure the light was flashing. I wanted everything on record. That man was going down no matter what, but we needed other names and the location of the ranch. There was no way in hell he was working alone, and we all knew it.

  I took a seat across from him, and Clay stood against the wall at the man’s back.

  “So, we actually meet face to face.”

  He snickered but remained silent.

  “Sucks that you weren’t a good-enough shot to kill Agent DeLeon and myself, right?”

  No response.

  “What’s your name? Mr. Sport Bike Driver or something else?”

  “Go to hell.”

  I chuckled. “So you can talk. That’s even better. Tara Philips has already identified you as the man in the woods who slammed the young lady in the head two days ago. She’s also identified you as the man who shot up their car and killed Byron, her husband.”

  “You don’t know anything, and I don’t believe your bullshit story.”

  “Really, why’s that? Did I get it backward? If you weren’t the shooter, then that must make you the driver. So who was the shooter?”

  Silence.

  “Well, we have the rifle’s shell casings with your prints on them. Got them from the mountaintop. You know when you shot the cougar that attacked Malcolm?” I watched his face go pale and knew I’d hit a nerve. “Wondering how we know Malcolm’s name, aren’t you?” I chuckled. “Go ahead and keep wondering. It doesn’t take too long to figure out names, and with that, we can find out where they live. I can only wonder what we’ll find when we locate the ranch.” I grinned and rattled my fingertips on the table to annoy him. “We also have the slugs taken from Mr. and Mrs. Philips as well as the slug that was just removed from my partner’s shoulder. I’m sure they’ll match too. That, my friend, implicates you in murder and attempted murder of federal agents. Now the question is do you have a police jacket? If you do, your go
ose is cooked.”

  He spewed his disdain for me. “And if I don’t?”

  I shrugged. “We’ll throw you in the slammer indefinitely anyway, name or no name. Makes no difference to me. What my gut is telling me, though, is that you’re only a tiny cog in the bigger wheel. A minion, patsy, gopher—you know what I mean. It’s obvious you aren’t smart enough to be running any kind of operation as sophisticated as this. There’s a top dog you report to, and when he finds out that we have you in custody, well, I can only imagine what he’ll do to you if we let you go. Maybe he’ll brand you.”

  A look of shock crossed his face.

  “What? You don’t think we know all about the brands, or do you have one too?” I cocked my head and smiled. “Hell, I bet jail is the safest place for you right now.”

  He grunted and stared straight ahead.

  “One more question. What happened to the shooter who killed Byron Philips?”

  “You’re wasting your time, bitch. I’m not telling you a damn thing.”

  “Sure. Have it your way. He’s all yours, Sheriff Burke. I hope you have community cells and not individual ones.” I chuckled. “He looks like he can use a friend right now, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do, and I have just the group of friends in mind for him.”

  I walked out with Sheriff Burke and let the door slam behind us. “Have your men check for a brand on his left hip when he changes into his jumpsuit. Let me know what they discover.”

  “Will do.”

  Chapter 52

  With our unnamed killer incarcerated, I returned to the hospital and sat in the waiting area outside Renz’s recovery room. The doctor said he was already awake but not fully alert and I should give him another thirty minutes. I took that time to find out where Tara was and to track down Dr. Ramsey. I was told the doctor had just left the operating room and Tara was in recovery, just like Renz. There was nothing I could say to Tara yet, so I headed to the ICU to speak with Dr. Barnes about Jane. Just as I turned down the corridor leading to the unit, my phone rang. It was Dr. Barnes.

  “Agent Monroe?”

 

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