Death in Her Eyes (A Mac Everett Mystery Book 1)

by Nick Vellis

  The General nodded.

  “Wan Tran was responsible for the deaths of dozens of prostitutes. Your daughter-in-law, Stephanie…, she was a whore too wasn’t she?”

  “Yes, the worst kind. She married a man she didn’t love for his money and kept company with someone else. I didn’t find out who that was until tonight.”

  “You had to take out one more prostitute and your daughter inadvertently handed you the weapon of choice – tetrodotoxin?”

  “I found it in the trash. There was a label on the damn tube, for God’s sake. I didn’t want to think why it was in my home.”

  “You could have dumped it,” I said.

  “I could have,” he said, “but seeing that word on the vial was divine inspiration.”

  “You could have walked away. You’d paid her off,” I said.

  “But they always come back for more, don’t they Captain. You reminded me of that. ‘Envy, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these. I warn you, as I warned you before, that those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God,’ Galatians, chapter five, verse twenty-one,” he said.

  “General…”

  He was glassy eyed, with a faraway look.

  “Wan Tran tortured, raped, and killed more than twenty young women in Nha Trang province. There may have been more. It took us three years to catch him,” he said. He dropped his head, but his .45 never wavered.

  “General…” I said.

  “It was a war zone,” he mumbled. “There was death all around. Once I left Nam, I tried to forget what he did to those women. I believed every life had value. When I learned how horrible their deaths had been I just couldn’t get them out of my mind. That drove me to catch a serial killer in the middle of a war. I still think about those poor women. When I go out on the lake, I don’t think of anything else. I still believed every life was important. Then I found out what Stephanie was and how she’d betrayed my son. She was a parasite. She married my son for his money, she was blackmailing me, and I just had to end it. The juice was right there. I…”

  “You couldn’t help it, could you sir?”

  Ashton broke in, “Daddy you killed Stephanie?”

  He just nodded, an old man beaten down by time and history.

  The door buzzer shattered the silence and all four of us glanced at the door. I hoped the answer to my prayer was downstairs. Ashton stood frozen ten feet in front of me. Nancy was to her right, against the back wall maybe a dozen feet further away. General Hunt was fifteen feet to my left. My office never seemed smaller.

  I pushed the button to unlock the street level entrance as I dove for the floor. Nancy cranked off three quick shots. One caught me in the left shoulder. Another flew high, shattered the window behind me showering me with broken glass. I took a quick peek around the corner of the heavy desk, the little .380 in my hand. Two shots whizzed by my head. I took aim and gave Nancy a double tap to the chest. She flew back against the wall with a loud humph and then slid down the wall leaving a smeared trail of blood. She settled into a seated position then fell to her right, DRT- dead right there.

  Two more shots from my left splintered the desk above my head.

  “General, give it up. The cops are down stairs,” I shouted.

  I heard the bookcase by my apartment door crash to the floor. Without waiting to aim, I fired two shots about chest high in the direction of the door. A moment later, I fired two more about knee level. I heard the general grunt as my rounds hit home.

  I heard feet pound up the stairs and gave a sigh of relief as I heard my buddy call out.

  “Mac, hold your fire,” Stan shouted.

  “Watch it Stan, there are three tangos down. They may still be alive.

  I stood slowly and immediately saw Ashton panting, sprawled at an odd angle on the floor. A blossom of red was expanding from a hole in her chest. Over by my apartment door, General Hunt was face down next to the overturned bookcase, his .45 still in his hand.

  “Clear Stan, come on in,” I shouted.

  Stan burst through the door, his Glock in his right hand.

  “Put it down Mac and get ‘em up,” he said, as he trained his Glock on me. “What the hell are you doing?”

  I put the .380 on the desk and raised my right hand. The left hung loose at my side as the wound started to burn.

  “It’s all over Stan. I think the blond is still alive, better call the paramedics.”

  “Turn around and spread ‘em Mac. I’m takin’ you in,” he said.

  “Sure Stan, but let me show you some things first. Howdy L-T,” I said as Lt. Raven burst through the door huffing and puffing. Logan and Deeds were on his heels. Even worn out from the stairs Raven still wore his familiar sneer. “Hey, what's the matter with your L-T Stan? He having a coronary, I hope?”

  “Cut it out, Mac,” Stan said. “What goes on here?”

  “It’s a long story Stan, a long twisted story. I shot that one by the back wall and the one over there,” I nodded in the direction of the general.

  Deeds was checking Nancy for a pulse, but I knew it was no use. The general hadn’t moved so I guessed he was gone too.

  “Her name’s Nancy Cameron. She did Sharon Greer tonight. I think she shot the tennis coach and Detective Wagner too. I’m not sure about Taylor.”

  “Who’s that?” Stan asked.

  “That is General Hunt.” I said. “This,” nodding toward Ashton, “is Ashton Hunt, the general’s daughter.

  “Who shot Ms. Hunt?” Raven asked. He smelled blood in the water.

  “They had the drop on me until you rang the bell. I used this backup piece when the lead started flying. My Beretta is in the corner. Cameron’s shot hit me, Ms. Hunt and blew out the window with the first few rounds. I put two in her chest.”

  “And the old guy?” Raven asked.

  “I was on the floor by the desk. He threw a couple shots at me. I fired. I think it was four times. I dropped him with the second volley.”

  Ashton groaned as Logan hovered over her.

  “Can I talk to her Stan?”

  “Sure, Mac.”

  Raven tried to object, but Stan cut him off. Stan was first on the scene and as such, in charge. No matter how much Raven wanted me, he’d have to wait.

  Stan will pay for that, I thought.

  I knelt down next to her as she rasped out a few words, “We could…have been together…”

  “Sure we could have kid, you, me, and your millions.”

  “I…I’m sorry.” She smiled as she clutched my hand. She lifted up as though she wanted to kiss me, but fell back. I looked into her pale green eyes. There was only fear in them now. I think she finally realized nothing, not her money, her looks, even her considerable feminine wiles, could get her out of this spot. She’d dealt her last card and it was a joker. I didn’t know if she would make it. The wound was bad, real bad. A weak smile was on her lips, but death was in her eyes.

  A couple EMTs hustled in followed by two more pushing a gurney up the stairs. One look at Ashton was all these guys needed. With little discussion, they started an IV and applied a pressure bandage to her chest wound. They sprang to work packaging her for rapid transport. There was no time for detailed triage. One of the guys saw my bleeding shoulder and slapped on a field dressing. “Call another unit for this guy, will ya’,” he said to one of his partners.

  “Mac,” Ashton called as the EMTs put her on the gurney.

  I stood back and let the medics work. I tried to see her through a frantic sea of blue uniforms.

  “Mac,” she said again.

  I looked at Stan and he nodded. I pushed my way to her and took her hand as they strapped her onto the gurney.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “We could…”

  I remember seeing the same glassy look in Stan’s eyes when he hit that IED in Iraq. I knew it meant he was a goner and I lied to him. I told him he’d pulled through, but I didn’t think it was going to work this time.

  “Hang in there Ash
,” I said. “You’ll pull through, hold on.”

  She gave me a weak smile. Her eyes fell closed as the EMTs began to roll her out.

  “That’s a bad one, Mac,” Stan said as he stood next to me and we both watched her disappear down the steps. “I don’t think she has much of a chance.”

  “I know, but I had to give her hope,” I replied.

  I looked at him and saw he recognized what I had done.

  “That’s what you said to me, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “Yeah, and I didn’t believe it then either.”

  “But I did. I believed it because you said it. Thanks.” He drew himself up to his full height and reasserted his role as investigator. “The Hunts are wrapped up in this?” Stan asked.

  We turned toward the window as a siren wailed outside, jarring us as Ashton’s ambulance raced away.

  “Wrapped up with a pretty bow, it’s a family affair,” I said once I regained my focus. “I’ve got some exhibits for you.”

  He squinted trying to make sense of it. I wished him luck.

  As I walked back to the desk, I said, “Ashton’s .45 is there next to where she fell,” I said as I walked by a .45 in a pool of blood. “Cameron’s is there next to her body. I’m not clear who shot which of the victims. I think I know, but the lab will tell you for sure.” I said pointing to the two guns on the floor. “Those two pieces will match the slugs in Rad Wozninek, Luck Taylor, and Kristin Wagner,” I muttered. “Cameron said she’d stabbed Greer. I’m guessing she’s cashed in her chips.”

  Stan shook his head as he looked around at the carnage with bewilderment.

  “I haven’t touched anything,” I continued, “so you should get good prints.”

  “Who killed Stephanie Hunt?” Raven demanded.

  “The general did that one. That’s a very long story.” Looking at Stan, I said, “I need to open the desk drawer. Is that OK?”

  Stan nodded and Raven fumed. I took Ashton’s envelope of cash from the center drawer.

  “Here’s ten large Ashton used to suck me in. The oversized retainer should have tipped me off, but she did a good job distracting me. I’m a sucker for a short skirt and a pretty smile.” I hated to lose $10,000, but I was in this for the win. “If you check with the general’s bank you should be able to match these serial numbers with the blackmail payoff.”

  “Blackmail,” Raven shouted as he scrunched his eyes and frowned.

  “You ain’t heard the half of it, L-T. I’ve got a lot to tell you. Sharon Greer and Stephanie were shaking old man Hunt down for twenty-five million, but he told Ashton it was two rocks.”

  “Why blackmail? These people were loaded,” Raven demanded.

  “Gambling debts owed to some tough customers, but hold your horses. That’s your motive for Luck Taylor. Cameron had a personal beef with Greer. She dummied up a lawsuit to get her fired and make a bundle. Then she recovered the blackmail money and bumped Greer off. I don’t know where she dumped the body, but she said the money is in the car. I bet it’s parked someplace nearby. There’s more, but we can talk about that down at headquarters.”

  Stan looked at me as if I had two heads and Raven was licking his chops.

  “Here,” I said, taking a digital recorder out of my pocket and handing it to Stan.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “That’s the icing on the cake,” I replied.

  “Hey! It’s still running,” he said.

  “You can turn it off now it you like. Everything said in this room tonight is on that digital recorder. No missing minutes to raise doubts about the confessions.”

  “Who confessed?” Raven roared.

  “The general and Cameron were both singing. Ashton copped to some of it too. You can’t tell your players without a scorecard. I know you’re disappointed L-T, better luck next time. Well, shall we get on down to headquarters so we can get this all on tape?” I suggested.

  “Mac, you need an ambulance. Sit down why don’t you?” Turning to Deeds, he said, “Run downstairs and see if that second ambulance is here yet.”

  Deeds took a powder, disappearing down the steps. I realized how weak I felt so I didn’t argue. I slumped into the chair. Seeing the shot of rye on the desk, I slammed it.

  “Ah,” I said as I wiped my mouth. “That’s awful.”

  “What’s this all about?” Stan asked.

  “Ashton said there was never enough,” I replied, “but greed kills.”

  Stan shook his head, and said, “What a waste.”

  “Yeah, it always is,” I said. “Come on, let’s get going. It’s going to be a long night. Hey, you mind calling Charlie Ross for me?”

  “Sure Mac, he’ll have you out by morning.” Stan cuffed my good arm behind me and slipped the bracelets through my belt as he said “Sorry to have to do this Mac. You know the drill.”

  “It’s OK Stan. Once you guys hear what’s on that recorder even Raven will want to let me go.”

  Stan walked me down the stairs. I gave Dave a smile as I went past him and the regulars at the Dunk Monk, and walked out into the night. The EMTs were just opening the second meat wagon. A light mist shimmered in the white lights of the open ambulance door. Red strobes flashed in the wet sheen on the sidewalk. I looked up expecting to see a dark sky, but the moon highlighted a line of low clouds that wept onto the earth.

  “Watch your head,” Stan said as he climbed into the ambulance next to me as rain began to fall.

  Chapter 12 Epilogue

  “The State Attorney decided to take the case to a grand jury,” Charlie Ross said. He was wearing his ‘lawyer face’, concerned, but in control.

  It had been nearly five weeks since the firefight in my office. My apartment and office were still sealed off, an official crime scene. I was tired of living in a motel. Maybe a grand jury could put an end that nightmare.

  Charlie sat down in the room’s only chair and put his feet on the bed.

  “They had no choice,” I said, “with seven bodies to account for including one of the state’s most prominent citizens. At least Cary Hunt got sprung.”

  “Yeah that’s good, but as for you, well they should rule the shootings justifiable, but with a grand jury you never know. They could charge you with Conspiracy, Manslaughter, or even Felony Murder. There is always Assault with a Deadly Weapon too. I’m sure we can beat anything they come up with, but you never know.”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “I know what I did was right and I wouldn’t change anything… except for Kristin Wagner.”

  I regretted Kristin’s death most of all. Ashton had her master plan, but I got Kristin involved. She was truly in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  “They’ll want you to testify,” Charlie began. “I don’t want you to take the stand. There’s too much at stake.”

  “I’ll testify, Charlie and I’ll answer every question. I owe it to Kristin.”

  “Are you always going to be stubborn?” he asked.

  “I guess so, Charlie.”

  A week later, the grand jury convened. The law enforcement and laboratory witnesses testified for four days. Charlie advised me, again, not to take the stand, but I figured I’d acted in good faith. If twenty-one ordinary Joes thought I’d screwed up, I’d take whatever came. I was on the stand two days. They asked a lot of questions, but there were no surprises.

  As my representative, Charlie sat through all the testimony, even though he couldn’t ask any questions. He told me when they played the tape of that night in my office there was no doubt what had happened and that I’d told the truth. They indicted Ashton for murder, conspiracy to commit murder, fraud, and any other damn thing in the statute book they could find. Ashton died from her wounds the next day, seven weeks after catching a bullet in my office. I had gone to the general’s funeral, but I skipped Ashton’s.

  “Mac, are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Charlie Ross asked. “Commercial real estate can be risky. This is a huge step for you.”

&
nbsp; “Charlie, what if I never take a risk?” I replied.

  “It’s never too late to back out of a deal like this. Are you sure?” Charlie asked for the hundredth time. “You have no experience in property management and you’re putting in too much of your own money. What if…”

  “I appreciate your concern, but I believe, no I know I can make this work,” I replied. “I got a great interest rate on the loan. The seller is paying for all the repairs the inspector recommended including a new roof. Dave has raised the money to buy the Drunk Monk. I’ve confirmed things with his bank. He has some awesome changes planned and I’m helping him finance the renovations.”

  “Did he sign the lease I drew up?” Charlie asked. “Never do business, even with a friend, without a contract.”

  “Yes, Charlie, he signed it. We’re all set.”

  “Do you have leases from the other tenants?”

  “You know I do. I have signed leases for the two office suites on the second floor and the Drunk Monk. I had to show all three of them to the bank. The rent from the bar and the new office tenants will about cover the mortgage.”

  “Remember, you can write off your office space.”

  I knew Charlie was looking out for me, but this deal was too sweet.

  “I won’t be paying rent on my office or apartment any more either. Look, you’ve always given me good advice, but I’m sure this is the right thing.”

  We were sitting in a little room at the title agency waiting for the closing agent. Charlie was doing what he does best, running through the contingencies, finding ways around them and checking them off. He was right though, buying the building was a big step. I’d never owned anything bigger than my car and most of those payments were late. I had more clients than ever, but I needed to make an investment in my future. There would never be a better time.