As darkness begins to descend, a soft-spoken, bespectacled, octogenarian driving a small motor-home rented from an RV outlet in San Bernardino pulls into a spot at a campground a quarter mile from the Lamb Canyon Resort.
27
Riverside County Sheriff’s Deputy Cameron Young is manning the sub-station located a few hundred yards from the Hemet Lake Lodge on Highway 74 at 11 p.m when he receives a call from a motorist reporting a serious motor vehicle accident on the Pines to Palms Highway about thirty miles to the east of where Young sits. The caller, who sounds frantic, hangs up immediately after relaying the information.
* *
Standing in the woods Marius Dupree powers off his cell phone, slips it into his jacket pocket, and wraps his fingers around the .44 Smith and Wesson revolver once belonging to Jake Foley. Completing the job he began by using the same weapon is important to him - he is a man who finishes what he starts.
He uses night vision goggles to sight in on Foley’s cabin, identified by the presence of the Ford Taurus parked to the side of the building.
No lights, no sign of movement. He could simply walk up to the cabin, kick in the door, and start blasting away. But that would lack the touch of grace he desires here. One, maybe two, shots to the heart. Followed by one between the eyes. Survive that, Mr. Homicide Detective. A shiver of delight ripples through him at the thought of how outrageously daring this assassination will be regarded by the public. The public’s fear factor will be multiplied tenfold when this hits the news. He will be the most potent individual force ever to terrorize an American city. He takes a moment to imagine the panic that will ensue to protect Foley’s daughter, Tristan.
All to no avail, of course.
* *
After receiving the frantic call that reported an accident on Highway 74, Deputy Young immediately radios the County Sheriff’s office in Palm Desert. “Yeah, Cam Young here,” he says. “I’m at Hemet Lake, just got a call from a motorist reporting an accident about thirty miles east of here. Obviously the caller wasn’t familiar with the area because that puts it pretty much on your doorstep.”
“Not a problem, Cam,” the on-duty Palm Desert deputy replies. “We’ll get a car out there right away. If your caller is close on the mileage it should mean it’s only about five miles southwest of us. You can sit tight.”
“Roger that,” Young says. He’s happy to take a pass on another highway run. He puts water in his coffee maker and sits back waiting for it to brew.
* *
Steve Bates and Kenny Hexler occupy the cabins on either side of Jake. They are in constant contact via their walkie-talkies. These guys are extremely professional and they take their jobs as security specialists very seriously - even more seriously than usual given the circumstances surrounding the Foley case. During darkness, one of them has the cabin under constant surveillance while the other walks the resort’s outer perimeter. During the day they will take turns catching power naps.
It is ironic that the very device designed to help them maintain their safety puts them in jeopardy. While Hexler scouts the woods his walkie-talkie squawks – a communication from Bates, checking to see if everything is okay.
The squawk is heard by Dupree who is less than a hundred feet from Hexler at the time. Although it speaks well of Hexler that, until that moment, Dupree was unaware of his presence, irreparable damage has now been done.
Dupree, who is standing beside a thick pine tree, edges slowly to the opposite side of the tree from which the sound was heard. He stands motionless. The communication he heard has not been responded to. He interprets this – quite correctly as it happens – as evidence that his own presence has been discovered or is suspected. So it would appear he has been set up. The so called fishing trip was nothing more than a ruse to draw him out.
He has a decision to make. Does he remain silent and hope that his pursuer moves on, or does he deal with him and then beat a hasty retreat? While he ponders his next move he hears the ever so faint sound of a footfall, very nearby.
Dupree, the .44 held in a two-handed grip, silently brings the weapon up and into firing position. In one fluid movement he steps around the tree. Hexler is less than fifteen feet away and, hearing Dupree’s movement, turns to face his foe. But he doesn't stand a chance. Dupree puts three well-aimed bullets into Hexler’s chest and watches him crumble lifelessly to the ground.
Dupree doesn’t hesitate now. He abandons all plans to get Foley, concerned only with escape. Before he has covered more than a few feet a voice behind him calls out, "Freeze.”
When Steve Bates didn’t get an immediate response to his last communication with Hexler he made the correct assumption that something was wrong. “Put down your weapon now,” Bates orders. “I will not hesitate to shoot you.”
Dupree drops the .44 at his feet and remains still.
“Move away from your weapon and lay face down on the ground with your hands at your back.” After Dupree complies, Bates says, “Don’t move.” He moves to Hexler’s body and feels for a pulse. His partner is as dead as dead gets.
A vehicle’s headlights appear through the trees and shortly after that a car is heard stopping nearby. Bates is torn between calling out for help and remaining quiet. At this point he doesn’t know what to expect from the new arrival. Is it friend or foe? Then a powerful flashlight beam illuminates the area. A voice calls out, “This is the Sheriff’s Department. Whoever you are, show yourself immediately.”
Dupree's ploy to send the cop away on a bogus accident run has failed. Before Bates has a chance to respond, Dupree decides to use the cop's arrival to his benefit. “Help me, Sheriff!" he shouts. "He shot my partner!”
Bates steps into the flashlight's beam, his intention to counter this nonsense with the truth. But Deputy Young, startled by the sudden appearance of an armed man, fires on Bates who is knocked back against a tree and slides noiselessly to his death.
Dupree takes advantage of the apprehension and uncertainty that follows to slink closer to the .44 he dropped ten feet away. While the deputy moves to check on Bates, Dupree reaches his gun, rolls onto his back and from his prone position fires on Young. The shot goes wide, giving the startled deputy a chance at survival. But in his horizontal position Dupree is impossible to see.
With no clear target, Young scrambles for cover.
Dupree then takes an enormous gamble and fires off all three remaining rounds at the dim shape moving quickly away from him.
With his last bullet he finds his mark.
Young drops to his death with a bullet in his heart.
* *
At the sound of the first gunshots, Jake startles awake. As soon as his eyes open a pain attack – the worst yet – ratchets through his head. He falls back, paralyzed in agony. The gunshots that follow are heard but he is simply unable to react to them.
* *
Dupree beats his way back through the woods to his campground. People are up and around, alerted by the gunfire but he assimilates himself into the gathering crowd without being noticed. Once at his RV he dons his fat suit and octogenarian disguise. He can’t take a chance on being stopped by the police - he needs his i.d. to match his current persona. Accomplished as he is, it does not take long to complete the disguise. Within a few minutes he’s fired up the RV and is on his way out of the campground. He is on Highway 74, headed west toward Los Angeles, when the first sirens are heard. Soon three police cruisers with sirens wailing and lights blazing speed by him coming from the direction of Hemet.
He lets his heart rate calm. He’s home free.
Jake Foley has once again managed to evade his clutches. But Marius Dupree is nothing if not resilient; already his mind is hard at work, calculating how best to turn this setback to his advantage.
28
With three men dead by gunshot wounds at the Lamb Canyon Resort, the Riverside County Sheriff's Department, within whose jurisdiction the crime scene falls, has its work cut out for it.
While t
he scene is secured sheriff's deputies interview Jake. He provides enough information to leave heads shaking in disgust. If not for his vigilante actions these men, one of whom is their fellow officer, would still be alive.
But that aside, it doesn't take long to determine the prime suspect is none other than the Goddess Slayer.
Road blocks are put in place while detailed searches of the Lamb Canyon Resort and an adjacent campsite are undertaken. Several occupants of the adjacent resort report seeing a small motor-home leave very soon after the events at Lamb Canyon took place. The driver was an elderly fellow who spoke to no one prior to his departure.
* *
Anticipating he might be leaving Hemet Lake under rushed and difficult circumstances, Dupree had left his car at a mall in San Bernardino. There will be no returning to the motor-home rental outlet. He drives to the mall and switches vehicles after wiping down the motor-home of all fingerprints and removing his cache of supplies. Although he has gotten away from Hemet Lake in time to avoid road blocks established at primary junctions, there are helicopters in the air now in great numbers.
Dupree has been extraordinarily lucky. But he wastes no time on either morbid reflection on his good fortune or self-congratulation. He has other, more weighty, matters occupying his thoughts.
Thoughts of retribution.
I may have missed with Foley once again, he muses, but I will not miss with his daughter. Dear, lovely Tristan.
He reaches for his cell phone and punches in the fast dial code for his associate.
* *
The news of the Hemet Lake debacle reaches Keith Abrams while en route to check on his partner's condition. Schultz has booked off sick, claiming a bout of the flu. But as Abrams is well aware, Schultz's current state has nothing to do with influenza. Abrams has suggested rehab but, so far, Schultz has vehemently refused such a course of action, opting instead to ride it out at home.
When Abrams gets the call on his radio that an attack has been made on Jake at the Hemet Lake Resort, and that the Goddess Slayer has killed a Riverside County Deputy Sheriff as well as two security people that Jake had put in place, his reaction is one of astonishment. He pulls his car to the side of the road and pulls his cell phone from its holster. He dials a number, but while it's ringing a beep announces he has an incoming call.
* *
Tristan is attending a lecture at UCLA when her cell vibrates. Ed Murillo is calling. A call from anyone other than an LAPD officer would go to message but Tristan notes the caller i.d. and moves out of the lecture hall to answer. "Yes, Officer Murillo."
"Tristan, I'm afraid I have bad news. Your father has been attacked at the Hemet Lake Resort."
"Oh, God!"
"He's alright. But a Riverside County Deputy and two security people have been killed."
"What about the killer?"
"He got away."
"Not again. What---"
"Tristan, the brass want you picked up immediately and held in safe custody until the killer's whereabouts can be determined."
"What about Daddy?"
"I don't have any info on him right now but I'm sure he'll be joining you as soon as possible. Where are you right now?"
"I'm at Bunche Hall."
"Okay, I'll pick you up at Portola Plaza in approximately twenty minutes. Wait in front of the café."
* *
Bobby Schultz is brought out of a stupor by the ringing of his landline. He stumbles from his sofa and reaches for the phone but by the time he picks up there's no one there. He's not particularly concerned about missing the call. Anything important would come through on his cell.
He knows he should call Abrams and check in but right now he simply doesn't have the energy.
He falls back on the sofa and closes his eyes.
Then his cell phone chirps.
* *
By the time Tristan gets her things together and walks to Portola Plaza almost twenty minutes have elapsed. While waiting she sits at an outdoor table at the Portola Plaza café and phones Abrams.
Abrams checks his caller i.d. "Tristan. I was just going to call you. Have you heard what's happened?"
"Yes, Officer Murillo called me."
"I'm coming to get you."
"Actually, Officer Murillo is already on his way. He should be here in a few minutes."
"What? Where is he taking you?"
"I don't know. All he said was that the brass want me held in safe custody until the killer's whereabouts are known."
"Listen to me, Tristan. I want you to call a cab and go to my condo. Don't wait for Murillo. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, but why? Officer Murillo said---"
"I don't care what he told you. Just do what I'm telling you."
"Keith, what's going on?"
"Go now. I'll see you soon."
Confused and scared, Tristan is uncertain about what she should do. Then Ed Murillo pulls to a stop in front of the cafe. He's driving his personal vehicle and is dressed in civilian clothes. He beeps the horn and motions for her to hurry.
She's torn about what action to take. Keith was adamant that she not wait for Murillo. But he's here. It seems ridiculous to wave him off and take a cab. She walks to Murillo's car and leans in the window. "Keith just called and said I was supposed to take a cab and meet him at---"
Murillo shakes his head. "No, Tristan. I'm under strict orders to pick you up immediately. Please get in the car now."
She hesitates briefly and then does as Murillo has ordered.
"Where are we going?" Tristan asks as Murillo pulls out and heads in the direction of Sunset Boulevard.
"I have to ask you for your cell phone, Tristan," Murillo says, ignoring her question. "It's important that it be turned off. I'm afraid you won't be able to place or receive any calls for the time being."
This strikes Tristan as extremely odd but she assumes it has something to do with the possibility of it being used to trace her whereabouts. She digs the phone out of her purse and hands it to Murillo.
Murillo powers off the phone and drops it into the cup holder in the console. "We're going to a safe house," Murillo says. "It's not far."
"Have you had any further word on my father?"
"He's okay. You'll see him soon. He'll be joining you at the safe house."
For some reason Tristan can't quite clarify in her mind, she senses the first faint stirrings that something is not quite right.
* *
Marius Dupree winds his way through the city to his home in Holmby Hills. If all has gone as planned, Tristan should be awaiting his arrival with great anticipation.
The vision of her in his mind is enough to send him into a frenzy of desire.
29
Ed Murillo's arrival at Central Bureau is met with considerable interest, not the least of which is from Keith Abrams. "Where the hell have you been?" Abrams demands.
Murillo looks shocked at the unspoken threat. "I went to the university to pick up Tristan as soon as word came in about what happened at Hemet Lake. I phoned ahead to have her meet me but she never showed up."
Abrams is clearly mystified at this development. "You mean you don't know where she is?"
Murillo shakes his head. "I assumed you must have picked her up before I got there."
"Oh, shit," Abrams moans. "I told her to take a cab to my place because I didn't want her waiting around on her own. But I've been phoning both her cell and my place and she's not answering either of them."
Bobby Schultz arrives while Abrams and Murillo are talking. "What's happening, Keith?"
"We can't locate Tristan."
"Oh, Christ. You've got to be kidding."
"I wish I was."
"Jake's on his way here right now," Schultz points out. "How the hell are we going to explain this to him?"
Abrams doesn't even want to think about that. He digs out his phone and dials Tristan's number again. Without ringing, it goes immediately to message. "It's been powered off. She'd
never do that with everything that's going on."
"What are you saying?" Schultz asks.
Abrams puts his hand to his forehead like he feels a monster migraine coming on. "I think she's been grabbed."
Schultz pales. "That's impossible. She'd never get in a car with somebody she doesn't know. And how could she be grabbed in broad daylight at the university, with probably dozens of people around?"
Abrams shakes his head "I don't know how it could happen, but it damn sure looks like it did."
"Geez," Murillo says, "I feel like this is my fault. I should have---"
"You didn't do anything wrong, Ed," Schultz says.
Abrams says nothing, struck dumb that simple arrangements to pick up Tristan could have gotten so screwed up. He sits down at his desk and goes through the steps of reporting her as missing. Given the serious nature of her situation, an all points bulletin is immediately put in force.
No sooner has Abrams cradled his phone than Schultz's desk phone rings. "Schultz. Homicide." He listens for several moments and responds, "Okay, thanks." He looks at Abrams and Murillo. "The motor-home the killer used at Hemet Lake was just located at a mall parking lot in San Bernardino."
A moment later Jake and Lillian Hudson are ushered into the detectives squad room. The first words out of Jake's mouth are, "Where's Tristan?"
Murillo, Abrams, and Schultz stand in a semi-circle in front of Jake who sits at Abrams' desk. The news that his daughter is missing, most likely at the hands of the Goddess Slayer, has rocked him like nothing else could.
Jake grapples with the reality of what the news of Tristan's disappearance means.
As difficult as it proves to be, he struggles to focus his mind.
THE FOURTH BULLET: A Novel of Suspense Page 15
