Blass grabbed the phone and dialed the concierge desk.
“Yes, Mr. Laurin, how can I help you?” asked the call taker, oblivious to ‘Laurin’s’ true identity.
Blass smugly answered. “Please have the car ready, I’m coming down.” He'd never met his father, but he’d read how Raymond Laurin and Roger Levesque, two men in his father’s gang, had ratted him out during a bank robbery. Blass had used the fake name of ‘Laurin’ to cover his tracks for years. He’d also kept it as a reminder about rats, and how they were unacceptable and should be killed on the spot when located.
“Sure, where are we headed?”
“The airport. Make sure the car has ice and bubbly.” Blass hadn’t seen Marie in a week and he was horny. He knew she had a thing for champagne and he was hoping they’d be celebrating her accomplishment if she showed up with the money.
“Will do. See you in five minutes.” The concierge buzzed Mr. Laurin’s driver, the car was prepared, and both the car and the driver waited in front of the hotel entrance.
Blass and his two bodyguards exited the hotel quickly. The guards scanned the area and walked in such a manner to ensure Blass was in between them, making it very difficult to get a shot off had someone wanted to. The two men were armed, but their weapons were concealed. They made it to the limousine, opened the door for Blass, and he climbed in. Once he was secure, the men moved to the other side. One man walked up to the front of the limousine while the other followed them in an armored SUV.
As the caravan with Blass pulled alongside the front of the ferry building exit, Blass could see Marie sidling through one of the sliding glass doors. He smiled and noticed she looked slightly nervous. Right behind her, Blass saw three Royal Canadian Mounted Policemen (RCMP). They were clearly having a discussion with Marie. His smile left his face and he felt his pulse race. He motioned to the man in the SUV to move in front of the limousine and told the driver to be ready to move in an instant. Blass peered through the bulletproof glass and saw that the RCMPs were rolling Marie’s luggage and one was carrying her dog carrier. He began to chuckle once he realized Marie had created several excellent diversions to keep the RCMPs preoccupied. In doing so, it was very unlikely they’d notice Marie had money strapped around her body. She’s a smart one, that’s for sure.
Blass wanted desperately to kiss and hold Marie, but he could not be seen, at least not by police. The secret to his amazing success had been his anonymity. His aliases and varying forms of identification always kept people guessing. He’d learned at a very young age who his father was and what he did for a living. Blass studied where his father had gone wrong and made every effort not to repeat the same mistakes.
The driver of the SUV got out and immediately began helping Marie and the RCMPs load her luggage and the dog carrier into the SUV. Blass could see one of the RCMPs appeared smitten by Marie. He flirted with her and she flirted back. After a few minutes, everyone said their goodbyes and the SUV pulled away.
One of the RCMPs looked back and noticed the SUV carrying the pretty lady was being followed by a limousine. He had no idea Canada’s most sought after criminal was riding in the backseat contemplating his next target.
The limo and SUV pulled into the underground structure at the Ritz-Carlton. While the bodyguards dealt with the cars and luggage, Marie ran over to embrace and kiss Blass.
“Hello, you crazy man.” She kissed him passionately. She could feel him getting aroused and rubbed herself on him harder.
Blass laughed and pushed back against her. “I missed you. I can feel something wrapped around your body. Is it the money?”
She pulled away a little. “Is it always about the money? No, ‘happy to see you too’?”
“Of course I missed you. But, business is business,” he replied flatly. He escorted her into his room overlooking the bay, eager to see the money… and her naked body.
She smiled and slowly undressed in front of him. Her body was amazing, but Blass was fixated on the cellophane wrapped around her midsection and thighs. Marie grabbed her knife and sensuously cut away the cellophane, careful not to cut the money or herself. The money popped off, and she threw it on the bed. She itched her belly and felt less bloated instantly.
“Come on, I think I earned some alone time with you,” Marie said in a sexy voice.
Blass snapped his fingers and the two guards in the living area of the room left quickly.
He and Marie made passionate love, each trying to figure out if the other could be trusted fully. Blass had no idea what Marie was capable of, and she had no idea he’d kill her in an instant if she ever crossed him. It was a dangerous game they played, but they both enjoyed playing it and were equally crazy enough to think they could both come out ahead.
Chapter 8:
Dix pulled into the Las Vegas Metro PD station as Miami-Dade Police Captain Pierce finally answered his call.
“Dix, I don’t even want to know. You and Petersen have outdone yourselves this time. You’re supposed to retire in a month, you runaway to Las Vegas, and wouldn’t you know it, you get into another shootout!” Pierce was livid.
“Captain, I know you’re upset, but the bottom line is Steve’s hurt, he may not even come back to work, and I’m in no mood to listen to your pompous rhetoric.”
Pierce was a great supervisor. He was well respected at the police department and one of the reasons was because he took good care of his troops. The fact Dix was so upset meant a lot to him. He was close to Dix and Petersen and realized the hard-ass routine would serve no purpose here.
“All right, Bill, calm down, okay?” he replied in a less irritated tone. “Whatever you need, the chief’s onboard, as am I.”
Dix felt himself calming some. He didn’t mean to snap at the captain, but he’d had it coming, and there wasn’t anything anyone could say or do to dissuade him from taking down the people responsible for shooting Petersen. He recalled feeling this way when seven of his men were killed during an ambush in Desert Storm. The pain would never leave him. Their faces haunted him and he never stopped thinking about them. Never.
“I’m okay, Captain. Sorry about that. Just a little shaken up at seeing Steve in a hospital bed, almost dead. It was touch and go for awhile.”
“It’s okay,” the captain replied, genuinely concerned about his men. “When you’re ready, give me the update.”
Dix proceeded to tell the captain everything. He’d been a little nervous asking to help on the case because he was afraid they’d say no and he’d have to make a decision he didn’t want to make. Quitting his beloved PD and walking away from a historic career in law enforcement would have been difficult, but necessary to avenge what happened to Petersen. Family, as Dix felt Petersen was, was more important than anything to Dix.
Dix added, “So the bottom line is, we’ve got a UC that was robbed, Steve got shot, the shooters killed two more cops on the Las Vegas Boulevard, and the assholes got away!” The last of his statement bothered Dix to no end. Who’d do such a thing? In broad daylight no less, he wondered.
“The chief already said he’s allowing you to work the case,” Pierce reassured him. “He called the police chief over there to talk about the situation, who stopped him short and said he needed you on the case. Our chief said he’d send the whole damn team if you think it will help.” Pierce was pretty sure the chief’s gesture would make Dix feel better. He secretly hoped it would pull Dix out of the funk he was currently in. It wasn’t that the captain didn’t feel compassion for him; it was the fact that a pissed off, or depressed Bill Dix, could miss something in the investigation and everyone needed him on his ‘A’ game for this one.
Dix was impressed by the support from his PD. He raised an eyebrow and caught himself getting slightly emotional. Get your head together, he thought. “That would be great. I’ll let you know if I need them out here. Thanks for the support, buddy.”
“You bet. Dix, I hope you know the whole PD and I have your back. It’s time to send a m
essage that no one grabs police officers, uses them as human shields, and puts a bullet in one of them. We’ll hunt these cowards down to the ends of the earth.” Pierce was amped up and feeling nostalgic. He loved being an officer, and he loved law enforcement. It seemed like every day a cop was being attacked, ambushed, or killed. He wanted to turn the tables against these scoundrels, at least this one time.
“All right Captain, I’ll keep you in the loop all the way and I’ll update you on Petersen’s condition when I hear anything.”
“Thanks, Bill. Stay low, and charge hard,” Pierce replied as he hung up.
Dix stepped out of his car and began walking toward the police station when he felt his cell phone vibrate. He retrieved it and looked down at the screen to see it was Petersen’s wife. He felt a pit in his stomach.
“Hey, Michelle…”
“Bill, there’s a problem. Steve will be fine, but the doctors are saying he may need more surgeries on his hand.” She began to sob. “They don’t know if he’ll be able to use his shooting hand again.”
Dix was confused. He’d been told by the doctor just hours before that it was likely Petersen would be able to return to duty.
“Michelle, it’s going to be okay. He’s going to need you right now. Is the doctor there?”
“Yes,” she breathed through sobs.
“Put him on will ya?”
“Hello, is this Bill?” Dix recognized the same voice as the doctor he spoke to earlier.
“Hey, Doc, what happened?” Dix was greatly concerned and he could feel his face becoming hot.
“The swelling went down and we x-rayed his hand again. I’m sorry, but the bullet did more damage than we’d thought. I’m contacting an expert to get him here to see if she can fix his shooting hand. Right now, it doesn’t look good.”
Dix felt like he’d been punched in the gut. On one hand he was grateful Petersen was alive, but on the other, he was sure Petersen would be a wreck if he couldn’t wear a badge after all this.
“Listen, Doc, the man you have there lives and breathes law enforcement. It’s his whole life. You’ve got to do everything you can to save that hand!” Dix was frantic, but refused to give up.
The doctor understood Dix’s frustration and Petersen’s plight. He was determined to try to save his patient’s hand, but one of the unfortunate things about his job was making these types of calls.
“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll do the very best I can.”
Before Dix could thank the man, he hung up. He waited a second to see if Michelle would call him back. She didn’t.
Dix texted his wife and asked her to head back down to the hospital to be moral support for Michelle and Petersen. He walked into the PD stressed out, but more motivated than he recalled ever being. I’m going to find you assholes, and when I do….
Chapter 9:
Dix entered the police department foyer looking for someone who could point him in the direction of Sergeant Frazier. A nice-looking lady caught his eye. He asked her if she knew where Frazier’s office was.
She pointed down the hall to the right. “Head to your right at the t-intersection and you’ll see everyone gathered in the conference room next to his office.”
Dix nodded. “Thanks so much.”
He cleared the corner just in time to see a bunch of people exiting a doorway. He could see Frazier and they made eye contact.
Frazier looked excited. “Bill, follow me. We just got a report of a burning Range Rover in Pahrump.”
“Where’s Pahrump? And what does it have to do with finding who shot Petersen and your UC?” Dix asked.
“I’ll brief you on the way,” Frazier replied as he threw Dix a black duffle bag, “Here’s the gear you’re gonna need.”
Dix caught the bag, unzipped it, and noticed it contained a gun, ballistic vest, handcuffs, and a flashlight. He smiled and nodded at Frazier.
Frazier nodded back. “We’ll talk as we head out. I’ve got two guys working the shooting on the strip; we need to get to the Range Rover. I’m hoping the local fire guys can put out the fire quickly and there will be some clues left for us.” While Frazier huffed and puffed, he noticed Dix pulling away as they walked down the hall. “Dix, slow down!”
Dix realized he had no idea where he was going and could see Frazier was struggling so he slowed down. His adrenaline pushed him forward. The two made it through the maze of offices within the police station and out to the area where the patrol cars and unmarked cars were kept. They jumped into an unmarked car and drove with lights and sirens on toward Pahrump.
Dix quickly dressed in the gear from the bag and noticed a binder with a pen at the bottom. The sight of the pen made Dix chuckle.
Frazier nodded toward the bag. “You still like writing with a pen?”
“Yup, I can’t stand the feel of pencil on paper.”
“Well, start taking notes. I’m going to give you all the updates as we race over to Pahrump.”
Frazier filled Dix in on the recent information gathered from the shootout, witnesses, and confidential informants. He told Dix that surveillance cameras showed the two unmarked police vehicles became disabled as they were riddled with rifle rounds in broad daylight on the Las Vegas strip. The footage showed three people, one of them female, in the same Range Rover that he and Petersen had seen in the alleyway. The license plate Dix had given Frazier matched the one on the Range Rover in the footage.
Dix shook his head. “These people are crazy. This is going to get worse before it gets better.”
“My friend, the whole state of Nevada wants these bastards. Somehow, we’ve stumbled into some bad apples that just so happen to be well armed, well trained, and have no regard for law enforcement.” The statement made both men cringe and look at each other concerned.
Frazier continued to give Dix information about the crew they were hunting. Analysts at the police department speculated that the suspects might be from Europe, possibly Russian.
Dix shook his head. “No, they had Canadian accents. They even added ‘eh’ to the end of some of their sentences.”
Frazier looked skeptical. “How do you know what Canadians sound like?”
“Both my brothers live in Scarborough, just outside Toronto,” Dix replied matter-of-factly.
Frazier grabbed his cell phone and dialed one of the analysts assigned to the case. “Hey, it’s Frazier, start looking for criminal groups out of Canada. The people we’re looking for had Canadian accents.”
Frazier looked back at Dix. “You remember anything else from the exchange with these guys?”
Dix thought hard, but couldn’t come up with anything useful. The images from the shootout played out in his head. When he recalled the sight of Petersen taking a round, he couldn’t remember much after that.
“We’re headed northeast from Las Vegas. There ain’t much out there, but that car’s going to be our only lead into this group. I’ve got the guys scanning through the files for the narcotics case we're working on with the UC, and they haven’t found anything. One thing is clear, we had no idea what or whom we were dealing with until the deal,” he paused, “went bad.”
Dix noticed Frazier was getting down on himself. He’d worked narcotic cases long enough to know investigators take risks and they never really know everything. Lies and deceit built the foundation for long-term investigations.
“Listen Randy, there’s no one to blame except the people we’re hunting. It doesn’t matter how much you guys knew or what the score was—they were coming, and law enforcement wasn’t ready for them.”
Frazier nodded. “We’re stretched thin, I’ve asked the feds for help, but things haven’t been too good between us after a DUI incident.”
Dix whistled. “Don’t worry, buddy, I can call out my team if we have to. But, you’ll want to send them back as soon as they get here. They’re a bunch of rowdy do-gooders.”
They shared a laugh. Frazier stopped laughing and grabbed his car radio. He advised di
spatch he’d be on scene shortly. The road veered to the left. As they made it around the corner, they could see several firemen running around a burning vehicle and a dark plume of smoke billowing in the air.
Dix looked at his watch. “That car should have been out thirty minutes ago—it looks like it’s still burning.”
Frazier looked at the clock and did the math. “You’re right. I wonder what’s up?” He mashed the accelerator and passed cars to get closer to the scene.
Both Frazier and Dix had responded to burning vehicle calls numerous times in their career. However, they weren’t prepared for what they saw when they got closer. A few yards from the burning vehicle, Dix could see a badly burned white Range Rover. The one the firemen were working on was similar in size, but silver in color.
Frazier quickly identified himself and Dix to the fire captain, who ordered them to stay back as his men tried to put the fire out. They watched as firemen worked feverishly with the Jaws-of-Life to extract a person from the vehicle. The screams from the victim in the car caused chills to run down the backs of Dix and Frazier. Their natural urge was to help, but they would have only gotten in the way if they tried to get involved. The victim’s cries grew louder and Frazier finally had to turn away or risk getting sick to his stomach.
After what felt like an eternity, the victim was pulled from the wreckage. Paramedics were already on scene and rapidly began working on the victim. Dix could see the man was in excruciating pain, and based on the burns and compound fracture to his legs, he was sure the man wouldn’t survive.
“Randy, I’m going to go with this man to the hospital.” He pointed at the victim. “Work the scene and meet me at the hospital or come back, pick me up, and bring me back to the scene.” Dix was sure something would come from the ambulance trip that would help with their case.
“Will do, Bill,” he replied with a stunned look on his face. They both could see the burned vehicle had no front-end damage, but the victim’s legs were clearly broken. It meant to them that his legs were broken prior to the vehicle being set on fire.
Sin City Assassin (The Bill Dix Detective Series Book 3) Page 3
