by Beverly Long
“I don’t have a last name. Maria’s maiden name was Jones.”
“Jones?” Sawyer frowned at the phone.
“Yeah. Mirandez’s grandfather was as white as you and me.”
“Bet that’s not well-known in the hood.”
“Remind him of it when you arrest him.”
“Angel Jones,” Sawyer repeated. “Or Angel whatever. She’s probably married by now. Where’s she live?”
“Not sure. Maria Mirandez moved to one of those independent living centers a couple years ago. A real nice expensive one.”
Sawyer couldn’t help but interrupt. “Guess what’s paying for that?”
“I know. If we didn’t have the drug money, the economy would be in real danger. Anyway, we got one of her old neighbors to talk. She remembers Maria visiting a daughter who lived up north.”
“Up north?” Sawyer repeated, even more discouraged than before. “That’s it? That’s all you got?”
“Maria evidently never drove at night. She could get from her daughter’s place to home all in daylight. So, I’m guessing it’s not Alaska.”
“You’re funny.”
“Hey, I said it wasn’t much. But at least we know there’s a sister.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I’m just getting discouraged.”
“Patience is the fisherman’s friend. Try to remember that,” Fluentes said before he hung up.
Sawyer wouldn’t brag about catching Mirandez. But he would get some real pleasure out of seeing him stuffed and mounted on a plaque and hung on somebody’s wall. Not his. He didn’t want to look at the son of a bitch every day.
He’d been off the phone for three minutes before Liz came out of the office. She was carrying two big cups. She got in and handed him one. He opened the straw, poked it into the hole and took a big drink. “I like a woman who can follow directions.”
“Just tell me what to do and I can do it.”
She hadn’t meant it to be provocative. He could tell that by the sudden blush on her face. But the double meaning hadn’t been lost on either one of them. He rubbed his jaw, and his whole damn face felt hot. What a bunch of idiots they were.
“News about Mary?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Mirandez has a sister. A half sister on his mom’s side.”
“Where?”
“Nobody knows. They’ll keep digging. I’ve got a name. Angel. Might be Angel Jones. Every place we go from now on, we ask for her, too. Maybe we’ll get real lucky.”
* * *
TWO STOPS LATER, luck struck. Liz flashed the picture, told her story and waited for the standard answer. When the young man behind the desk gave her a crooked smile and said that she’d be able to find Mr. and Mrs. Giovanni at cabin number seven, she almost wept.
“My sister’s pregnant,” Liz reminded the clerk, wanting so desperately to believe but knowing she couldn’t be too optimistic.
“I know. I was surprised when her husband told me that the baby wasn’t due for another couple of months. They wanted to rent a boat yesterday, and I was nervous as heck. Thought she’d probably pop that kid out when she hit the first wave. But they docked it back in last night, safe and sound. Although I don’t think your brother-in-law knows much about fishing. Your sister had to show him how to bait a hook.”
“Yes, she’s a talent. Well, I can’t wait to see them. My car is in the parking lot. If I just keep driving on this road, will it take me past cabin seven?”
“Sure thing. And if they aren’t there, look for them out at the dock. That’s where they seem to spend most of their day. She reads books, and he throws his line in the water and spends most of the day on his cell phone. That’s not how I’d spend my vacation. But since your brother-in-law tips twice as good as anybody else, I ain’t gonna judge.”
Easy to tip when it was with dirty money.
“Well, I’m going to try to surprise them. You won’t call them or anything, will you?”
“Couldn’t if I wanted to. Cabins don’t have phones.”
“Well, okay, then. I guess I’ll see you later.”
“Sure. Just make sure your brother-in-law knows how helpful I was.”
Liz managed a smile. She walked quickly back to the car, opened the door and slammed it shut before she turned to Sawyer. “They’re here. Cabin seven. Mr. and Mrs. Giovanni.”
Sawyer’s eyes lit up, and his hands clenched the steering wheel. “Giovanni,” he repeated.
“Dark hair. Dark eyes. Guess he figured people in Wisconsin wouldn’t know the difference between Hispanic and Italian.”
“Suppose. It’s not like he could have picked Anderson or MacDougal.”
“Now what?” They hadn’t really ever talked about what would happen if they actually found them.
“We call for backup. Damn, I wish Robert were here.”
“What do I do?”
“Stay here. Once I make the call, I’m going in for a closer look. I want to get the layout of the cabin.”
“The clerk said they might be down at the lake. There’s a path that runs behind all the cabins.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“I don’t want Mary getting hurt. You need to let me get her out of there.”
“You’re not going anywhere near Mirandez. He’ll kill you. Without hesitation, without second thoughts.”
“But—”
“But nothing,” he said. “Don’t fight me on this, Liz. I’ve been straight with you all along. This is a police operation. You have to stay here. You have to stay safe.”
She didn’t intend to give up that easily. “You’d have never found her if it wasn’t for me. Why can’t I just go look around with you?”
“No. Mirandez is a crazy man. Look, Liz, I’ll do my best to make sure Mary doesn’t get hurt. You’ve got to trust me.”
She would trust him with her life. If Capable Sawyer couldn’t handle the trouble, the trouble had a destiny. But she couldn’t walk away from Mary now. Not when she was this close.
“It’s not a matter of my trusting you. Mary doesn’t trust you. She doesn’t like you. She’s not going to listen to you. She’ll do something stupid.”
He seemed to consider that. “You’ll do exactly what I tell you to do?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t call out to her or say anything until I give you the sign?”
“No.”
Sawyer shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was about to do. “All right. But don’t make me regret this.” He picked up his cell phone and dialed the number he’d evidently memorized. He gave the party on the other end a terse description of their location and the suspected location of Mirandez and Mary. He listened for a minute, responded with a terse yes and hung up.
“Who was that?”
“Miles Foltran. He’s the sheriff of Juneau County. I made contact with him before we left Chicago so that he knew we were in the area. He’ll have backup here in ten minutes.”
“Now what?” Liz asked.
“I never should have listened to Fischer,” Sawyer muttered.
“What?”
“Never mind. Just be quiet. I need to think.”
Liz wasn’t even offended. The man had more on his mind than being polite to her.
“Now we go take a look,” he said, starting the car. He threw it into Drive and slowly eased out of his parking spot.
“Shouldn’t we wait for backup?”
“We are. We’re going to keep a nice safe distance away.”
Sawyer drove down the narrow blacktop road, keeping his speed around twenty. They saw the first cabin and then ten or twelve more look-alikes. Sawyer continued past cabin seven, all the way until a stand of evergreens took over where the road stopped. He
turned his car around, angling it so that he could get a view of the shorefront that ran behind the cabins.
“I don’t believe this.” Sawyer reached between the seats and pulled out his gun.
“What?” Liz craned her neck to see.
“Look between those two cabins, about a hundred yards out. That’s Mirandez.”
A short, thin man, wearing a baggy white T-shirt and blue jean shorts that fell below his knees, paced up and down the dock. He had a beer in one hand and a phone in the other.
“Keep talking,” Sawyer muttered. “Keep talking, you bastard.”
But almost as if that had been the kiss of death, Mirandez lowered his arm, snapped the cell phone closed, walked over to the lawn chair at the edge of the water, held out his hand and helped Mary pull herself out of the chair.
“Mary,” Liz murmured, more scared now than ever that she’d actually seen Mary. “You’ve got to make sure she doesn’t get hurt,” Liz said. “Promise me.”
“Damn,” Sawyer said, totally focused on Mirandez. “They’re leaving.”
Liz stared at the young couple. Sure enough, Mary and Mirandez were walking toward the black SUV that was parked almost on the sand. Mirandez evidently hadn’t wanted his vehicle far from him.
Before she could even think about what to do, Sawyer threw the Toyota into Drive and pulled up to the end of the driveway. “Get out now. My side.”
He opened the door, stepped out, grabbed her arm and literally pulled her from the car. He gave her a quick, hard kiss. “Run like hell for the trees.”
“What are you doing?”
“What I ain’t gonna do is let the bastard get away. He can’t get around me. He’s going to have to go through me. Now get the hell out of here.”
* * *
LIZ HEARD MIRANDEZ’S SUV engine kick to life, and she knew she had mere seconds. “Mary,” she managed to choke out.
Sawyer spared her a quick glance. “I’ll do the best I can.”
She ran for all she was worth, reaching the trees just when she heard the horn. Mirandez leaned on it, obviously irritated that someone had the audacity to block his way. Liz could see him looking around, and she prayed that he wouldn’t see either her in the trees or Sawyer, who had somehow managed to get behind a big oak tree about twenty yards to the left of the car.
When she heard the scrunch of car on car, she knew that Mirandez had gotten tired of waiting. With the bumper of his SUV, he pushed the rear of her car aside. In another fifteen seconds, he’d have enough space to squeeze out.
And almost as if in slow motion, Sawyer stepped out from the tree, fired twice, hitting the front wheel of the SUV. Mirandez reached his arm out of the open window, a deadly-looking gun extended from his hand, and fired at Sawyer, who had slipped once again behind the tree.
Liz wanted to scream but knew she couldn’t distract Sawyer. The bullets bounced off the tree, the only protection Sawyer had against the horrible gun. Liz, almost without thought or intent, grabbed some rocks from the ground, and with all her strength, she flung them across the road, straight toward the cabin. One hit the door, another the roof and the rest scattered across the ground.
It was enough to momentarily distract Mirandez, and Sawyer didn’t miss his opportunity. With Mirandez’s attention on the cabin, Sawyer swung his big frame out from behind the tree.
The bullet caught Mirandez’s forearm, and his gun fell to the ground.
Sawyer ran to the SUV, kicked the gun a hundred feet, all the while keeping his own gun leveled at Mirandez’s head. “Police,” Sawyer announced. “Turn off the engine.”
Mirandez looked up, maybe to judge his chances, and Liz held her breath. Then, with a slight shake of his head, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening, he turned off his vehicle.
“Mary, get out of the car,” Sawyer instructed, his voice steady.
For just the briefest of seconds, Mary didn’t move. Then she almost tumbled out in her haste.
Liz met her halfway. She reached for her and held her as close as the pregnancy allowed. She thanked God. They’d found her in time. This time she hadn’t been too late.
Mirandez screamed and yelled obscenities at Sawyer. But when Sawyer took a step toward Mary, Mirandez changed tunes.
“Get the hell away from my baby,” the drug dealer yelled. “You don’t have any right. I’ll kill you. I swear to the Holy Mother that you’re a dead man.”
His baby. Liz pulled away from Mary, wiping a gentle hand across the girl’s teary face. What the heck was going on?
“Oh, Liz,” Mary cried, “I was so scared. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I—”
Just then, four squad cars rounded the corner. Six officers piled out, guns drawn.
“I’m a police officer,” Sawyer called out. “The man in the SUV is Dantel Mirandez. He’s wanted on suspicion of murder.”
The tall one in the front of the pack held his hand up in the air, motioning those behind him to stop. “Detective, your voice sounds about right. But given that I’ve only talked to you on the phone, put your gun down now and show us some ID.”
Sawyer nodded. “That’s fine. Come a little bit closer. If he moves, shoot him. He dropped his gun. It’s to my right, twenty-five feet out.”
Sawyer laid his own gun on the ground and watched while the officers secured Mirandez’s gun. He unclipped the badge on his shirt pocket that he’d hastily attached right before he’d pushed Liz from the car and run for cover himself. He tossed it at the man who’d spoken.
The man glanced at it for a moment, and then a big grin spread across his face. “Welcome to Wisconsin, Detective Montgomery. Looks like you’ve had quite a day.”
Sawyer thought he might have the same silly-ass grin on his own face. “Watch him,” he warned again before he picked up his gun and put it back in the car. Then he strode over to Liz and Mary.
“You both all right?” he asked.
“We’re fine,” Liz answered.
Sawyer took a long look at Mary. She looked tired and pale, and she was holding on to Liz so tightly that he was surprised Liz could still breathe. “What’s the story here, Mary?”
“He’s a monster,” Mary answered, her voice brimming with tears.
“Did he hurt you?” Sawyer asked. “The baby?” Suddenly he knew killing Mirandez wouldn’t be enough. He’d have to torture him first.
Mary shook her head and took a couple of loud sniffs. “Dantel has a sister who lives around here. She’s a nurse. They were going to cut me up. And then take my baby.”
“What?” Liz asked.
“But they had to wait. His sister said I had to be at least thirty-six weeks so that the baby would be big enough.”
“But aren’t you almost thirty-eight weeks, honey?” Liz brushed her hand gently over Mary’s hair.
“Yeah. But he didn’t know that. He was gonna keep me up here until his sister thought I was ready.”
“It’s not his baby, is it?” Sawyer asked. Liz had been right. Suddenly it was all starting to make some sense. “But he thought it was.”
“Dantel treated me like a queen, bought me anything I wanted, took me anywhere I wanted to go. I couldn’t tell him I was already six weeks pregnant before we ever slept together.”
More lies. When would the damn lies stop? Sawyer pushed the disgust back. “He wants the baby?”
“His mother is dying. She wants a grandchild before she dies. His sister can’t have any kids.”
Sawyer wanted to make some sick joke about Mirandez being a mama’s boy. But he couldn’t. Dying mothers weren’t funny. “How’d you find out what he had planned?”
“I didn’t know at first. When we left Chicago, he said that he just wanted to get away and relax for a few days. I didn’t want to go but you...you can’t turn
Dantel down. He doesn’t like it.”
Sawyer bet not. “Then what?”
“I thought we were going fishing. But he didn’t have a clue what he was doing. I started getting scared. There isn’t even a phone in the room.”
“What happened?”
“We went to his sister’s house. At first she was really nice, talking to me about the baby and everything. But then I had to pee so I went upstairs to the bathroom. When I came down, I heard her telling Dantel that it would be a couple weeks before she could take the baby. That she didn’t want to take a chance on the lungs.”
The devil seed had taken root and sprouted in the Mirandez family. “Then what?” Sawyer asked.
“I pretended that I didn’t hear them. I ate dinner with that horrible woman and pretended that nothing was wrong. I thought I might have a chance to get away. Dantel had been on the phone all the time. Another gang issued a challenge. There’s going to be a big fight soon.”
“Where?” Sawyer asked. “Did you hear him say where and when?”
“Yes. Maplewood Park. On Sunday night.”
“Good girl,” Sawyer said. “That information is going to be very helpful.”
“Dantel hated that he wasn’t in Chicago to control things. He went crazy on the phone one night, talking to somebody. I thought it might be my chance. But he saw me. I told him I stepped outside for some air, but I knew he didn’t believe me. Since then, he’s been watching me like a hawk.” Her lower lip trembled, and a fresh set of tears slid down her face.
The girl had a lot of guts. “You did good,” Sawyer told her. “You saved yourself and your baby. You should be proud.”
When Liz threw him a grateful glance, Sawyer felt his heart, his stone-cold heart, heat up just a bit.
He was about to do something stupid like thank her when Sheriff Foltran interrupted him. “We’ve read him his rights, Detective. He needs medical attention. We’ll see that he gets that at the local emergency room, and then we’ll get him booked. My friend Bob owns this place, and I don’t think he’ll appreciate us hanging around until all his other guests show up.”
Sawyer nodded at the man. “Right. Put him in one of your cars. I’ll ride with you.” He turned back to Liz and Mary. “I’m going to have to deal with this. He crossed state lines, so it’s a bit more complicated to get him back into our jurisdiction. And then I need to arrange secure transport back to Chicago.”
