Bang Switch

by Jamie Lee Scott

  “Stay in the car for now.” She never listened to him before, but he said it anyway.

  Zane got out and saw two bodies lying on the parking lot at the cellular phone store. The store was closed, but Rex Williams’ car was still in the lot, right where they’d left it. Moore had given him a ride back to his car, just like he said.

  Zane walked up to Chief Rambone. “What happened?”

  “All I know is this town is going to hell. Things have got to change.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  Lying in the lot were Lieutenant Moore and Rex Williams, both dead from gunshot wounds.

  “Holy fuck,” Zane said. The soup and bread turned in his stomach. “Oh, holy fuck.”

  “That’s what I said when I arrived. I was the first on the scene. What the hell is going on?” the chief said.

  “This guy wasn’t a threat. Moore was just giving him a ride back to his car,” Zane said, then realized he said too much.

  “How do you know that?” Rambone asked.

  He’d really stuck his foot in it now. “He called me. Said he was going to get the guy I arrested yesterday. Wanted to let me know the charges had been dropped.” Zane swallowed hard before adding the lie, “The test on the powder I found was a false positive.”

  “Since when does the lieutenant transport prisoners?” Rambone asked, irritation in his tone reaching high octaves.

  “Sir, I just don’t know. I don’t have the answer to that,” Zane said.

  “From the looks of it, this guy must have turned on the lieutenant after he was released. Shot him in the back. Then the lieutenant must have turned and shot him before going down. At least that’s what it looks like from what I’ve seen since I got here. There will need to be a full investigation.” Rambone shoved his hands in his pockets.

  There was no reason for Rex to shoot Moore, unless Moore was Sousa’s killer. But then why shoot him in the back? Did Rex get information between talking to Zane and being released? Moore had said the DEA claimed Rex and wanted him released. They hadn’t, however, told him the real reason Rex was in town, or that he was connected to Sousa, only that he was there for a drug bust of some kind.

  “Are you sure he shot him in the back?”

  Rambone looked at Zane like he was an alien, then said, “At this point, I’m not sure of anything, except two men are dead, make that four counting Sousa and Trevino, and I’m getting the hell out of here before it’s five.”

  What the hell did that mean? Rambone turned around and walked to his car, got in, and left. Something was seriously wrong with that man. What police chief just walked away from the murder of his own lieutenant and a DEA agent? Not that Rambone knew Rex was DEA.

  Zane stood there, dumbfounded. Rex had known it was an inside job. Maybe he knew all along that it was Moore. The boots, the phone call, it all seemed too easy. Zane watched as Rambone drove into the darkness.

  Kate came running from the car. She never listens to me, Zane thought.

  Chapter 23

  “Zane, I was thinking about it. Moore wasn’t the only one who wore Belleville 700s. The chief did, too.”

  “What?”

  “Normally, he wore 5.11s to be one of the guys, part of the team. But when he was trying to impress someone, like another chief, or when we had visitors, he’d pull out the more expensive boots, and those were his Bellevilles. I swear he had them.”

  It was time to check the wear and micro patterns on Moore’s boots. Zane hated to think that he was going to have to ask Moore’s wife to see his boots. Then he said, “Kate, get back in the car. I don’t want anyone to see you. Go.”

  For once, she did exactly as asked without arguing.

  Zane walked up to the crime scene and looked at Moore’s body. He was wearing Bellevilles. He asked the closest officer, “MacElroy, whose scene is this?”

  MacElroy said, “Rambone said it belongs to you and Underwood.”

  Zane closed his eyes, squeezing them tight. This was going to suck.

  “Bag these boots,” he said. “Never mind, just get me the bag, I’ll do it.”

  Underwood came over and said, “Solved this one easy.”

  He seemed jovial and exhausted at once.

  “It ain't that easy, but we're not going to talk here.”

  A cell phone started ringing. Everyone patted their pockets, but it was obvious the phone didn’t belong to anyone alive.

  Zane looked down at Moore, then squatted down, lifted his jacket and pulled out the phone. “Hello?”

  “Zane?”

  It was Kate. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I just hit redial on the phone you have charging in your car.”

  “What time was the original call made?” Zane asked.

  Kate shrugged. “That’s just it, there’s no call log. I have no idea when the first call was made.”

  “Rex said the phones were provided by DEA and held no log. But you were still able to redial the number. That doesn’t make sense.”

  “It’s an old flip phone, easy enough to hit redial.” Kate said.

  It was nearly midnight before the evidence from the scene was processed, and then the scene was released. Zane could barely keep his eyes open, and even the sight of Kate asleep in the passenger seat of his Charger didn’t get his blood stirring.

  The entire time he worked the crime scene, he wondered why Rex would have been calling Moore. The phone had been in Rex’s possession, but it wasn’t the phone Zane had called Trevino from the day before. So who did the phone belong to?

  Underwood thought the case was solved; Zane knew it was only more convoluted.

  The deputies removed the bodies, and the cleaning crew arrived to remove the blood. It was time to get Kate back home.

  Zane turned the key, and she woke up.

  “Are we done?”

  He loved the way she looked first thing in the morning and realized he missed that, too. Ugh, he missed way too much about her, but that was the past.

  “I’m taking you home.” Zane put the car in gear and took his foot off the brake.

  The parking lot had been empty, so he didn’t bother looking behind him, then Kate yelled, “Look out!”

  Zane slammed on the brake pedal and turned around in his seat. Three black cars surrounded his vehicle. Well, fuck me.

  “Kate, I mean it, stay in the damn car.” He opened his door slowly and got out with his hands clear of his duty belt and gun.

  Six doors flew open at once, and Zane automatically raised his hands. He’d been on the other side of this situation enough times to know what to do. He waited to be told to turn around and walk backward, then drop to his knees.

  The tall, narrow guy in his fifties, standing directly in front of him, said, “Put your hands down, but if you go for your weapon, know you’ll be dead before your palm hits the handle.”

  He had no intention of shooting anyone. Zane dropped his hands to his sides. “Feds?”

  “Sergeant Zane Gwilly?”

  “And you are?”

  “Special Agent Chris Geary with the FBI. We need to talk someplace not so public.”

  “And where would that be, sir?” Zane automatically reverted back to his military days, deferring to his superiors.

  Next thing Zane knew, he and Kate were sitting on the couch in his living room. Wally glowered in the corner, growling and snapping, while six men in dark suits, white shirts, and thin ties stood in front of them, trying to look intimidating. It was working.

  “So you’re saying Rex was actually working for you?”

  “Yes, he and Sousa had information that would lead us to a major player in the drug cartel here in Holt County. Williams, you know that’s not his real name, right?”

  Zane nodded.

  “Anyway, he had a meeting set up with Sousa that night, but Sousa was killed before they had a chance to talk.”

  The phone. “So Kate called from a phone I got off Rex and Moore’s phone rang. It
wasn’t Rex’s phone, because I called Trevino from his phone the other day. And Rex never mentioned another phone. He had Sousa’s phone all along.” Zane slammed his hand down on the table with the revelation. “That fucker didn’t even tell me. He knew I was looking for that phone.”

  “Right,” Geary said. “Williams waited outside his house. When he saw this hooded guy leave out the back of the property, he waited, then finally walked up to the house. But by the time he got in there, the guy had already done his work, and Sousa was dead. Williams grabbed Sousa’s phone from the cruiser on the way back to his car. Why Sousa left it in the car makes no sense.”

  “So he knew Sousa was dead, but he told me he didn’t.”

  “What, did you think he was going to tell you he was at the house?”

  “Whatever. Why didn’t he tell me Sousa had called Moore?” Zane sucked in a deep breath and sat on his hands to keep himself from jumping up and punching someone.

  “Maybe he hadn’t gotten a chance to check the phone. He probably didn’t think to hit redial,” Geary said.

  “So, after all of this, you still don't know who killed my officer, or who your dirty cop is?”

  Kate had been strangely quiet in all of this. And knowing Kate, she wasn’t quiet even when she was exhausted, which meant she’d been chewing on something.

  He watched as she pulled a phone from her handbag and dialed. Everyone stared at her in disbelief.

  “What? Ordering pizza at one in the morning?” Zane asked.

  “Hi, Carman,” Kate spoke quietly, “This is Kate Darby. Are you okay?”

  Carman was Moore’s wife. Kate listened.

  “No, honey, I understand. I’m so sorry to call you so late, but sweetie, I need to ask you a couple of questions.”

  Zane couldn’t believe it, but in that moment, he was on the same wavelength as Kate. They had their mojo back. He wished it was their personal mojo, too.

  She asked about the vacation, and how everything had been since they got back home. Then she listened. Zane could hear crying through the phone.

  “Take your time.” She waited a few more seconds. “Okay, you said your son was sick the night you got back. Did you or Theo sleep with him?”

  Kate nodded her head. “Theo did?”

  Zane heard more crying, and a garbled answer.

  “Did anyone call the house last night?”

  Now she had the call on speaker phone.

  “The chief called around ten o’clock. Theo had called him to let him know we were home early, in case something happened and he needed him to come in. The chief was just returning his call.” Carman’s voice was hoarse, and her words difficult to understand with her stuffy nose from crying.

  “This is important, Carman. Did the chief call Theo’s cell phone or the house?”

  No hesitation. “His cell phone. I answered it because Theo was sleeping.”

  “Do you remember if Theo called the chief from the house to let him know he was home early?”

  “No, he called from the car, so it was his cell. Why?”

  “When the chief called, what did you say Theo was doing?”

  “He called so late, which was unprofessional. I mean, I could understand if it was an emergency, but he was just returning Theo’s call. I told him we were sleeping. Everyone was exhausted from the trip, and with J.J. being sick, Theo was sleeping with him.”

  Everyone in the room looked at each other.

  “Honey, I know you don’t want to answer these questions, and I really appreciate you helping me out. One last question; was it the chief’s name on the phone when you answered it?”

  “I’m not sure. I mean, well, it was a local number, which was why I answered it. But it was a phone number, not a name. Why?”

  “No reason, I was just wondering. Thanks for your time. I’m so sorry for your loss,” Kate said. “Carman, honey, I want you to know we’re going to find who did this.”

  “But they said it was some drug dealer, and that Theo shot and killed him.” The panic of not knowing the truth sounded in her words.

  “Yes, I know what they said. Now you just get some rest. It’s going to be a rough couple of days, even weeks. You call me if you need anything.”

  Kate disconnected.

  “Rambone knew that the lieutenant was home,” she said, the anger in her voice evident. “He knew he and his family were exhausted. He knew Moore wasn’t answering his cell phone. I’ll bet my life that those boot prints look like Moore’s Belleville 700s, but they aren’t. And if you don’t get over there in a hurry, that murdering, drug dealing son of a bitch is going to pack up his passport and leave the country.”

  Now Zane knew why Sousa’s phone had Moore’s number as the last call. The chief had called Moore from Sousa’s phone. To implicate him? The chief had been acting weird, and now he thought he knew why.

  Chapter 24

  The thing about shoe prints: they’re as individual as fingerprints. Most criminals don't even consider how valuable they are, and neither do many detectives. They’d always been Zane’s favorite piece of evidence, mostly because he liked lifting the prints. He’d lifted quite a few on his rotations as an investigator, but he’d never had the need to refer back to them because some other evidence closed the investigation. But he knew someday he’d get his chance to use them.

  Geary, Kate, and Zane stood at the kitchen table, looking at the boot print photocopy he received in the envelope from the state. It wasn’t the original, but it was all they had. They could use it for initial investigative purposes, and the original could be used for prosecution. Zane pulled Moore’s Belleville boots from the evidence bag he’d gotten from the murder scene. In turn, they looked at wear patterns, the nicks and cuts in the treads, and any missing chunks from the soles of Moore’s boots, comparing them to the photocopy of the prints from the Sousa crime scene. No way these were the same boots worn at the crime scene at Sousa’s house.

  “All this proves is that Moore wasn’t at Sousa’s house,” Geary said.

  Kate pulled her phone out. “I know this isn’t a great picture, but it’s all I have. This was given to me by Newton’s aunt. She was in the house when he was murdered.”

  “That’s not what the police report said,” Geary said.

  “I know. She was terrified. She told them she came home and found him. She thought if they knew she was in the house, she’d be dead, too.”

  Kate went on to relay the rest of the story as they compared the boot prints.

  “Not clear enough to see the fine details, but the wear pattern sure looks like the crime scene prints.” Geary’s grim face almost showed a smile. “Can’t get much higher than the chief of police when it comes to a small town. The cartel must have him by the balls.”

  Zane said, “That also explains Rambone’s fingerprints at the crime scene. I didn’t remember him touching anything, and yet Moore had been excited to see his prints lifted from the scene. I told Moore that he probably touched the banister railing.”

  “Rambone’s print was found on the doorframe of the bathroom,” Geary said.

  “He never went in the bathroom,” Zane said. “Never went near the doorway.”

  “He’s too cocky for his own good,” Kate said.

  “So who takes the lead?” Zane asked Geary.

  “We have the manpower in place on this one. We’ll take the lead, but if you like, you can be the one to cuff him and read him his rights.”

  Kate looked at Zane, probably thinking he was going to flip out. It was his case, his officer, his homicide, and now the FBI came in to put their stamp all over it. Kate probably thought Zane wouldn’t let it happen, but she was wrong. Zane never wanted this case to begin with and was happy to turn it over.

  “Let’s do this thing,” Zane said.

  Then Geary, Kate, five nearly silent FBI agents, and Zane walked single file out of his house, and he led the way to 4545 Front Street in Peculiar, Texas.

  When they arrived at the chi
ef’s house, the last thing Zane was going to do was tell Kate to stay in the car. But he thought maybe Geary would want them to, at least until they knew Rambone wasn’t a threat.

  But nothing ever goes down as planned.

  Rambone must have been in way too deep to get out easy. When they arrived, he had his family in the car, and was putting one last suitcase in the back. It wasn’t his police issue vehicle, but a brand-new Range Rover. Last time Zane checked, a police chief couldn’t afford a $250,000 SUV, but what did he know?

  The irony of the Range Rover wasn’t lost on him, either. The same car the government had given Newton. According to the story Kate told him, the government had also come to take the car back.

  From Zane’s vantage point, from the end of the caravan, he thought Rambone had put his hands up, but as they approached, Zane could see he had put a gun to his own head. His lips were moving, and his body language made it seem like he was making threats.

  “Let him do it,” Kate said. “That douchebag is the reason I almost lost my life. He planned to have me killed.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Zane asked her, because Zane wanted him dead, and knew she did, too. But by suicide?

  “Stop here.” She unbuckled her seatbelt. “If he’s going to die, I want him to see my face before he does. I want him to know he didn’t get rid of me that easily.”

  Before she opened her door, Zane handed her the extra vest he kept in the back seat. “You aren’t getting out without this on.”

  She didn’t argue. One gut shot will cure anyone of wanting to leave the Kevlar vest behind, Zane thought. He helped her into the vest, and they got out of the car.

  The deer in the headlights look on Rambone’s face was priceless, even if he recovered quickly.

  Of course, Rambone knew Kate was alive. But somehow, Zane knew he didn’t expect she’d ever return to Peculiar, at least not as a cop. He’d spoken of it several times over the last few months, wondering if she remembered anything about that night. Over and over, Kate had told him the entire incident was a blur.

  “Put the gun down and talk to us, Chief. We just have some questions,” Geary said.