Fatal Strike

by DiAnn Mills

“Sorry I interrupted you,” Jon said. “Keep going.”

  “The guy popped the hood. As I was looking at the battery and the wires, three of them got real close. One of the other guys said he had an invitation for me to join the Venenos. He told me I’d make 2K a week to start and be my own boss. I wasn’t interested and told him so. The guy reminded me about my cousin in prison who got into trouble for hacking computers, and could I do the same thing? I knew where he was headed, so I told him I gave up those ways. No more jail time for me. No thanks.”

  When Henry paused, Jon pressed him to continue. “What happened then?”

  “They threatened to kill me if I didn’t do what they said. I told ’em if they wanted me to kill people, then we were finished talking. But one of them said I’d help them get into computers and find stuff for them. I gave in.” He sniffed.

  “Whose computers?”

  “I forgot.”

  “You had to have names to get into systems.”

  Henry only shook his head.

  “For a man who wants to help and be protected, you’re not cooperating,” Jon said.

  “My mind isn’t good.”

  “Try leaving the drugs alone.” Jon swallowed his aggravation. “What kind of information did you access?”

  “Personal stuff mostly.”

  “Like what?”

  Henry shrugged. “Don’t remember.”

  “Do the names Ian Greer and Marcia Trevelle sound familiar?”

  “Nope.”

  “Did you get into any computers belonging to Officer Ian Greer, Attorney Marcia Trevelle, or Judge Nicolás Mendez?”

  “I don’t remember.” Henry coughed.

  “Do you need some water?” Jon said.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  Jon turned to the water cooler in Father Gabriel’s office and pulled a cup from the dispenser. He flipped up the lever.

  Henry rushed the door.

  Jon dropped the cup and raced after him. Midway down the hall, he grabbed Henry by the shoulder and flipped him around. The man struggled but couldn’t throw a punch with his wrists cuffed. Jon tossed him to the floor onto his stomach. He searched his pockets and wrapped his fingers around a syringe.

  “What’s in this?”

  “I’m a diabetic.” Henry groaned as Jon pressed him into the floor.

  “If this is insulin, then I’m Frosty the Snowman.”

  “Please,” Henry whimpered. “You’re hurting me.”

  Jon let him see the syringe with the yellowish substance. “What is this?”

  “None of your business.”

  Jon tightened his hold. “I made it my business.”

  “Rattler venom.”

  “Who were you going to use it on?”

  “Father Gabriel. But I couldn’t do it.”

  Jon huffed. “In front of all these people, cops, and FBI agents?”

  “I was supposed to wait around until it was over and ask to make confession.”

  Like Brad Dixon. “Who else is with you?”

  “Nobody.”

  “Attempted murder puts you under arrest.” Jon radioed for officer assistance and alerted Leah and the other agents inside the sanctuary to look for others who might be waiting for the service to close.

  “You said you’d help me,” Henry said.

  Jon eyed the syringe in his hand. “Can’t help you unless you give me names and information.”

  “Anything. Whatever you need.”

  “Here’s a word of advice, Henry. Don’t break the law. Ever. The consequences are never small.”

  47

  LEAH MET UP WITH JON as he ordered Henry to be held in protective custody at the Galveston Police Department until he and Leah could question him further. No one was to enter the cell.

  The service ended and Judge Mendez’s body was transported to the cemetery. After a brief prayer time, the body was lowered into the grave. Jon and Leah stayed at the grave site until the mourners left.

  Rachel approached them while her mother escorted the children to the car. Two police officers and Chief of Police Everson awaited the small procession.

  “Agent Riesel, do you have time to talk?” Rachel said.

  “Yes, of course.”

  The two women made their way to a bench, leaving Jon and Father Gabriel alone. Rachel took a deep breath. “I apologize for not telling you the truth about Dylan. I’d like to explain a few things about me, my past, and how Nicolás helped mold me into a better woman.”

  Leah questioned if Rachel’s explanation was the truth.

  “I was a selfish younger woman. More narcissistic than I’d like to believe, and nothing I’m proud of. My modeling and law school were more important than anyone or anything. At least I had the sense not to abort Dylan. Silvia is a godly woman. She loved my son and became the mother I never could have been.” Rachel swallowed hard.

  “Take your time.” Leah patted her arm. “This week has been a nightmare for you.”

  “Thank you.” She glanced at her children and mother in the distance. “My mother is my best friend. Dad died of a heart attack shortly after Nicolás and I were married. She and Dad knew I had given up my baby for adoption, but they thought the family lived in Dallas. Last night I told Mom the truth, and she cried with me. I watched my son grow up and kept my word not to interfere. The only thing I’ve done for Dylan is establish a trust account for him when he’s twenty-five.

  “After graduating from law school, I went to work at a law firm and became friends with Marcia Trevelle. She introduced me to Nicolás. I’d never met a man so complex before. He believed in God and the law in that order. His faith in action moved me to place God foremost in my life too. While he had a reputation of little leniency with offenders, he had a gentle side. He laughed freely and loved life. I fell in love, so deeply that the emotions frightened me. He acted as though I were a queen, and when he told me he loved me, I knew I didn’t deserve it. I wanted to be the woman who helped him serve the community. I confessed my past, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about Dylan. Last Sunday after church, he asked me about a son I’d given up for adoption. I have no idea how he learned the truth. Perhaps Lucinda told him or the lawyer who handled the adoption, but it doesn’t matter. It was hard, but he didn’t condemn me.” She peered into Leah’s face. “I believed I could finally establish a relationship with my son. Then Monday came. We were devastated about Ian and Marcia.”

  “And your husband didn’t say a word about something they were working on together?”

  “No. When I questioned him, he said he’d tell me what was happening on Tuesday after he talked to the FBI.”

  Father Gabriel told Jon he’d never heard of Henry Kantore. Another person linked to the crimes, but where did Kantore fit?

  Everson waited until Rachel and her family left the cemetery before approaching Jon and Leah. What the man lacked in height, he carried in command and wide shoulders. Not an ounce of waste on him.

  “Tell me about the guy sitting in my jail,” he said to Jon.

  “His name’s Henry Kantore. He confessed to being a Veneno. Hired to hack into computers. Says he was supposed to get Father Gabriel alone and use rattler venom on him. Tried to make a run for it during questioning. Had a syringe full of something in his pocket. We’ll test it.”

  Everson huffed. “I want five minutes.”

  “He’s in FBI custody.”

  “In my jail.”

  Jon gave him a stern look. “Not happening.”

  “How’d he get in with the Venenos?”

  “Claims he was approached by four men who wanted his computer skills. Threatened him if he didn’t agree. He said he hacked into systems but never had a name. Seemed clueless about Ian Greer or Marcia Trevelle.”

  Everson’s face reddened. “Did he hold Marcia down when they injected her with rattler venom?”

  “Agent Riesel and I are ready to question him.”

  “I’m sitting in.”

  Any prob
lems with Everson’s personal involvement with the victims, and Jon would have him removed.

  Two hours had passed since Jon arrested Henry Kantore. His dilated pupils and the track marks on his arm indicated cocaine use.

  “You had a fix this morning.” Everson stated the obvious.

  Henry ignored him and focused on Jon. “Who are these people?”

  Jon introduced Leah and Everson. “We need information. Unless we get it, you’ll be tried for three counts of murder and an attempt on a fourth. Not to mention the illegal drug use.”

  “How do you figure?”

  Jon had heard pathetic whining before. Back a criminal against a wall, and he still thought he had bargaining power. In this case, Henry had a little leverage if he’d provide names. “You cooperate, and I’ll see about reducing your sentence to violent street gang involvement and hacking—by your admittance. Three people might be alive if you hadn’t given the killers a way into their computers.”

  “But I know some bad stuff going down. I expect a better deal—”

  Everson bellowed out a swear. “Like your hands slapped so you can walk the street again, free to murder?”

  Jon bored his attention into Everson. “We have this.”

  Everson dragged his tongue over his lower lip and glared at Jon.

  At Jon’s nod, Leah resumed questioning with the gentleness he’d come to expect. “Nasty bruise on your face. How’d it happen?”

  “I fell yesterday.”

  “Where were you?”

  “Don’t remember.”

  “Could it have been the Falstaff building?”

  Jon inwardly startled. Could Henry have been Brad Dixon’s partner?

  Henry hung his head and nodded. “I want out of this mess.”

  “So you were with Brad Dixon,” she said. “What were you planning to do?”

  “He’d left something in the priest’s office from another time. He wanted out of the gang—we both did. But before he left the island, he wanted to make confession. When he was ready to talk to Father Gabriel, Everson walked in. Dixon got scared ’cause he had school bus on him.”

  Jon recognized the slang for Xanax. “What happened then?”

  “When the priest left with the cop, Dixon hid the pills on a closet shelf. The boss got real mad and told him to get the drugs or he’d kill ’im. I went with Dixon ’cause he asked me. Then we planned to leave for Mexico.”

  “Did you kill him?”

  Henry shook his head wildly. “I don’t know who fired the shot.”

  “Were the drugs recovered?”

  He nodded. “There were three of us. The other guy gave them to me later, and I made the drop.”

  “Who?”

  “Not going there.”

  “Really? I thought you wanted to help. Where did you take the drugs?”

  “I’m not saying anything else unless I get a better deal.”

  Leah sighed. “Like Agent Colbert, I want to help. But you’ve got to give me info and names.”

  “I’m a dead man!”

  “We want to keep you safe,” she said. “But think about the families of victims who are crying for justice. If Dixon left the drugs in Father Gabriel’s office, why ransack it?”

  “We were high. The boss wanted Dixon to leave syringes in the priest’s office and look for anything to implicate him in the judge’s death. Neither of us wanted to go to hell for planting evidence on a priest.”

  “Where are the syringes now?”

  “Tossed them in the Falstaff building.” Henry sighed. “I’ll tell you what I can, but I need protection.”

  “Question one.” Leah spoke barely above a whisper. “Who told you to attack Father Gabriel at this morning’s funeral?”

  “I don’t know his name.”

  “How did he contact you?”

  “My phone.”

  They had his cell phone. Running down numbers was part of the process.

  “You told Agent Colbert about four Venenos who showed up at your garage,” she said. “I need their names.”

  “I can give you two.” Henry stared at his cuffed wrists. “They’re dead—Aaron Michaels and Landon Shaw. They also stole Judge Mendez’s SUV.”

  That answered another question. “Is Dylan Ortega someone you know?”

  He shifted and twisted in the chair.

  “I’m waiting,” she said.

  “Never heard of him.”

  “Marcia Trevelle?”

  He shook his head.

  “Ian Greer?”

  Henry flinched. “Nah.”

  “Elena James?” Leah said.

  “No.”

  She turned to Jon. “He hasn’t given us anything solid but who stole the Mendez SUV.”

  Everson broke into the conversation. “Our man here forgot another detail. Hey, Henry, according to your record, Officer Ian Greer arrested you for possession.”

  “I’m not good with names.”

  The lack of memory came with fried brains and a tendency to lie.

  Everson rose from his chair and clamped his hands on Henry’s shoulders. “Tell me about Marcia Trevelle.”

  “I’ve never heard of her.”

  Everson dug his hands deeper and Henry winced.

  “Chief Everson,” Jon said, not wanting to intervene further unless Everson got out of hand. “We are conducting the interview. Henry, you’re lying. We’re tired of hearing it.”

  “Told you, my memory’s bad.”

  “One more question.” Everson applied more pressure to Henry’s shoulders. “Did you witness the gang committing murder?”

  He glared. “No.”

  Everson jerked him to his feet and went nose to nose. “What about watching them die?” His hands went for the throat.

  Jon pulled him off. “Let him go, Everson. He’s not worth it. His confession seals his guilt.”

  “I have my rights.” Henry sputtered his words.

  Everson released him and stepped back. He trembled with visible rage. “My jail.”

  “But you don’t make the laws.” Jon turned to Henry. “A word of warning while you’re a guest of Galveston’s finest. Chief Everson’s fiancée was Marcia Trevelle. Officer Ian Greer was his good friend, like a brother. He’s an angry and grieving man.”

  Henry’s widened pupils sparked fear.

  Jon looked from Everson to Henry. “I suggest helping us find the killers.”

  “Okay.” Henry licked his lips. “I know a little about the rattlers.”

  48

  LEAH KEPT A STOIC FACE while Jon faced Henry, but she wanted to believe they’d made progress. The suspect had sobered a bit, and she had an idea to press him on before he lawyered up.

  “Henry,” Leah said, “Agent Colbert and Chief Everson have lost patience. They don’t understand you’re frightened and want to help. Would you rather I ask them to leave the room so we can talk?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Jon and Everson protested, then left her alone. She’d nominate them for an Oscar. They’d be viewing from the one-way glass.

  She gave Henry her full attention. “The truth now, or I might have to leave you alone with the chief of police and Agent Colbert. You haven’t seen my partner in action, but I wouldn’t cross either of them. They both scare me.”

  “Okay. The rattlesnake farm is not far from here. If there are others, I don’t know about it.” He stared at his cuffed wrists. “Alvin area. I can show you on a map.”

  She navigated on her phone to a map surrounding Alvin and zoomed in. Henry pointed to a rural spot and gave county road intersections. Jon would have local authorities notified of the location before she finished questioning him.

  “Is the rattlesnake farm owned by Venenos?” she said.

  “I suppose. Never asked.”

  “Who’s the big boss?”

  “How many times are y’all going to toss that question at me? No one has a name. It’s the truth, and the honest truth.”

  “How ma
ny Venenos are there?”

  “We aren’t together at the same time.”

  Pulling answers from Henry was like deciding to diet with a candy bar in her mouth. “But you have names of some of them.”

  “So do you.” He glanced at the window to his left. “Since one of ’em might be a cop, I’m not giving you any more than you already have.”

  She’d pose the question again at the Houston office. “Tell me about reconquista.”

  “It’s something we’re supposed to say to make the boss happy. I guess it matters to him.”

  “How does the gang make money?” She paused for the question to sink into Henry’s head.

  He squinted. “I work at the garage.”

  “Wrong. Try again.”

  He shuffled his feet. “We sell drugs.”

  “Cocaine?”

  He shook his head. “Mostly prescription drugs.”

  “What kind?” she said.

  “OxyContin, Percocet, Ambien.”

  “Have you sold to Dylan Ortega?”

  “No idea.”

  “Where’s your stash?”

  “Sold ’em. You won’t find a thing in my apartment.”

  She moved on. “How does your boss contact the gang?”

  “Texts. He’s smart. He gets me a new phone regularly. I think we all get new ones.”

  “How often?”

  “Depends on how many texts we get.”

  “How does the phone transfer take place?”

  “I get a text to leave my phone at a spot and how to pick up a new one.”

  “Where?”

  “Never the same place. Sometimes in Galveston and other times in or around Houston.”

  “I’ll need the locations of where you’ve dropped off or received a phone.”

  “What I’ve told you is good.”

  “I’m going to need more, Henry. Names, places. You know the charges without them.”

  “I’m a dead man if I give you a single name. I’d rather take my chances with the cop and a jury.”

  She shook her head. “Chief Everson and Agent Colbert won’t like this. What if they choose to put the word out on the streets that you leaked names? Then cut you loose?”

  He pointed at her with his cuffed hands. “I said I know about the rattlers. I told you where the farm is. I deserve a break for risking my neck.”