Blood Truth

by Matt Coyle

  “I’m not going to spend the rest of my life in prison.” She grabbed the receiver of her house phone sitting on the counter and hovered her index finger over the keypad. “I’ll call the police and report that you broke in and tried to rape me or you lie to the Russians about where you found the flash drive.”

  I pulled out my cell phone and tapped the phone number associated with Tatiana’s text and hit the speaker button.

  “Talk.” The distant voice with a hint of a Russian accent.

  “I’ve found the flash drive.”

  “Where?”

  I held up the phone to Dina. She hung up her house phone.

  “In the hotel room where Sophia had been staying. She taped it to the bottom of the nightstand.”

  “And how did you find it there?”

  “I bribed a maid to let me into the room.”

  “Really? How clever. Wait for my text on where to meet.” Tatiana hung up.

  “If you don’t turn yourself in to the La Jolla Police Department by noon tomorrow, my story for the Russians will change.”

  “How do I know that you won’t just change the story anyway?”

  “How many different stories do you think I want to give to the Russians?” I limped toward her. “Where’s the feed from the security camera stored?”

  “It doesn’t work.”

  “Where?”

  “It’s recorded on CDs in the entertainment center.”

  “Show me.”

  I followed her across the living room to a large wooden entertainment center. She opened a cabinet below the TV and pointed at a silver and black metal box with the name Lorex on it. It was old technology. Newer models recorded to a DVR or stored in a digital cloud. I popped open the CD tray and pulled out the CD and put it in my back pocket. Then I unplugged the box and detached the cables just in case Dina had thoughts of popping in another CD and recording my exit. It would be useful if she went back to plan A and called the police.

  I walked over to the front door and turned back to face Dina. “Noon tomorrow.”

  I opened the door and left the house where Dina Dergan slaughtered Sophia Domingo.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  PETER STONE ANSWERED on the second knock like he’d been expecting me. His security cameras, no doubt, had a wider view than Dina Dergan’s.

  “Rick. What a pleasant surprise.” He stepped back from the door and butlered his arm. “Festus your way on in.”

  I didn’t know what he meant, but let it lie. No need to show my ignorance and tee him up for another insult. I shuffled through the foyer. He closed the door and passed by me in three strides.

  “Have a seat.” He stood next to his leather throne in the living room and nodded to the mini me version.

  This time I sat down immediately. I was tired and sore. I didn’t care about showing weakness or having to make a quick move for my gun. I hadn’t even brought it with me. Stone was evil and dangerous. But, right now, he and I were on the same team. And I’d learned he had a twisted honor that was real. And that you didn’t want to be on the wrong side of it.

  “I have the flash drive. The goth psychopath is going to text me where to meet.”

  “I knew your blue-collar bulldog resourcefulness would come in handy sometime.” He smirked to remind me that even though we were on the same team, he was in charge and I was forever lesser than.

  “Stone, just for one night, give it a rest.”

  The smirk creased sharper. Then he let it dissolve and his shark eyes softened to human for only the second time since I’d known him.

  “Where did you find it?”

  “I can’t tell you, but Jeffrey Parker didn’t have it.”

  “That won’t be enough for the Russians.”

  “I lied to the Russians.” Probably a mistake. “I don’t want to lie to you.”

  “Why did you come to me instead of just waiting for the Russians to tell you where to meet?”

  “I need you to broker for Kim’s and my life.”

  “Hmm.” Stone leaned back in his chair and put his hand to his chin. Seemingly in thought as opposed to relishing the situation I was in and the power he had over me. “I’m sorry to say I don’t have quite the pull you think I do. At least, not with the Russians. Not after I let inculpatory information be stolen from me.”

  “You’re the only shot I have.” I leaned forward. “I’m involved because you hired me to find Sophia. Kim’s life is in danger because you gave her name to the Russians as leverage against me. I found your flash drive. I bailed you out. I need your help.”

  “They’ll want to meet somewhere secluded. They’ll kill you there.” Stone stood up and started pacing. That didn’t calm my nerves. “They’ll know you lied. Don’t ask me how. But, trust me, they’ll know you lied. You might be able to save Kim’s life if you tell them the truth, but they’ll kill you. If you run, you might be able to stay alive for a while. Maybe forever, if they get bored looking for you. But Kim will die.”

  “So, the only choice I have is me or Kim? Best case is that only one of us lives?”

  “There might be one other option.”

  * * *

  Three SUVs were parked in a semicircle, facing forward, in the clearing at the end of the dirt road in the middle of a horse ranch in Harmony Grove. The moon provided the only light. The black Hummer from the other night was the back of the arc. Two black Chevy Suburbans bracketed it. I parked across from the Hummer, thirty feet away, forming the arrow to the other cars’ bow. Two men holding Kalashnikov AK 47s stood next to the bumpers of the Suburbans.

  I got out of the car and stood in front of it. The headlights of the Hummer flashed on, flooding me in light. I slowly opened my bomber jacket wide to show the armed men and the people behind the lights in the Hummer that I was unarmed.

  The passenger door of the Hummer opened and someone got out. Footsteps on gravel, then Tatiana appeared in front of the headlights. Matching black leather outfit to the one last night. The driver door opened and the skinhead I’d headbutted in the Hummer last night appeared next to Tatiana. He had two black eyes and a swollen nose. He held a handgun at his side. The way he looked at me told me he held a grudge.

  “Bring me my flash drive.” Tatiana held out her hand in front of her. “And tell Mr. Stone to get out of the car.”

  I looked through the windshield of my Accord and nodded to Stone in the passenger seat. He got out and leaned against the car with his arms folded. The default smirk on his face. For once, it wasn’t pointed toward me. I limped toward Tatiana and everyone holding guns pointed them at me. Her mouth was still swollen where I kicked her last night.

  I put the two-inch-long Lexar flash drive in Tatiana’s outstretched hand. She snapped the fingers of her other hand and the backpassenger door of the Hummer flew open. A man in his early twenties trotted up to Tatiana holding a laptop. He plucked the flash drive from her hand and opened the computer on the hood of the Hummer. He opened the flash drive like a folding knife and put it in a USB port on the side of the computer.

  Tatiana kept her eyes on me, wearing the same insolent smile from last night, as her minion studied the contents of the drive on the computer. He pulled it from the port then closed the laptop.

  “This is it,” he said, then handed Tatiana the flash drive and got back into the Hummer.

  “Did you look at this?” She held up the flash drive.

  “No.” I told the truth.

  “Are there any other copies?”

  “That’s the only one I found.” The words were true if not the intent.

  “That’s because Miss Domingo taped the flash drive under the nightstand of her hotel room.” The smile hardened. “Right, Rick?”

  “Right.” I doubled down.

  Tatiana nodded to her driver. He put his gun in a holster under his coat, threw Stone’s smirk at me, and walked toward my car. Tatiana raised her eyebrows and then looked at the driver like I was supposed to watch him. He went to the ba
ck of my car on the driver’s side and kneeled at the corner of the back bumper and slid his hand under the car. I knew what he’d come out with even before he removed it from the frame. He walked back to Tatiana then turned and stuck out his hand in front of my face. A black device about half the size of a package of cigarettes sat in his hand.

  A GPS tracking device. I’d used similar models myself when tailing surveillance targets from a distance. The device connected to an app on your phone or tablet or whatever. You could watch where the subject went from the comfort of your own home, or you could follow in a car out of sight. Tatiana’s men must have put it on my car last night when I was inside the Hummer negotiating for my life.

  “You went to The Pacific Terrace Hotel and bribed a maid to get into Miss Domingo’s old room?”

  “No.”

  They knew I went to Dina Dergan’s hidden house in Point Loma. They may have even tailed me there.

  The driver pulled something from the pocket of his jacket and dropped it on the ground. A small canister bounced and rolled to a stop in front of me. Pepper spray.

  Dina Dergan wouldn’t confess to the police tomorrow. She was dead.

  My heart redlined and I fought to keep my breath from following.

  “Why did you lie to me, Rick?” Tatiana, in a teasing voice. “We had a deal.”

  “I was trying to keep an innocent man from spending his life in prison.”

  “The husband of the woman you love? You are a stupid puppy dog. And stupid puppy dogs don’t live very long all alone in the wilderness.” She looked around at the trees outside the clearing to make sure I got the metaphor. Or just for fun so I could twist on the end of her knife a little longer.

  “I got you back the flash drive. That was the deal.”

  “The deal changed. As you can see we took care of the one loose end you lied for.” She kicked the pepper spray with her Doc Marten and it skittered into the dark. “That leaves one loose end left.” She reached out and tapped my nose. “You.”

  I eyed the men pointing guns at me. No escape.

  “Call your father, Tati.” Stone’s voice floated in over my shoulder. I’d never thought I’d be so happy to hear it.

  “Don’t call me that.” Tatiana straightened and eyes and swollen lips went tight. “Are you here to beg for Rick’s life? I didn’t think you two were that close. I didn’t think you were that close with anyone, Peter.”

  Stone walked over and stood next to me.

  “I’m here to make a business arrangement. Call your father.”

  “My father’s not involved in this.”

  “We both know that’s not true. Call him.”

  Tatiana put her hands on her hips and stared eyes dead enough at Stone to be his own child. He tilted his head and gave her more smirk. Her driver shifted his feet and mean-mugged Stone. Stone looked unimpressed.

  “Do you want to call Sergei before he goes to bed or are you going to wait and wake him up?” Stone asked, his head still tilted.

  Tatiana maintained her pose for another ten seconds, then yanked her phone from her pocket and stabbed a number on it. She held the phone to her ear and glared at Stone. I wasn’t relieved that she’d directed her anger at someone other than me. There were still men pointing AK47s at me waiting for the command to use them. But Stone had gotten Tatiana to make a phone call that might save my life.

  “Papa?” Tatiana’s tone didn’t match the anger in her eyes as she stared at Stone. She turned her back and walked into the dark. She spoke heavily accented Russian that rose in excitement with every fifth word. The only English word she spoke was “Stone.” After a minute of arguing or pleading, she walked back in front of the headlights and handed the phone to Stone.

  “Sergei?” Stone lost his smirk. “Yes. That was my fault. I had an error in judgment that won’t be repeated. The problem has been resolved with no further repercussions.”

  Stone listened for a full minute before he spoke again.

  “I’m afraid Tati has directed her anger and need for reciprocity at the wrong person.” He listened and nodded his head a couple times. “The man who solved our problem is very capable. He lives between both worlds.” He nodded again. “You’re right. My problem. This man and a friend of his should not be held responsible for my error. Particularly after he took care of the problem. For me. For us.” He listened again.

  Stone handed the phone to me.

  “Mr. Cahill.” The voice on the other end was heavily accented, guttural. A wolf’s bark. “You disrespected my daughter. That cannot stand.”

  “It was a mistake. I apologize.”

  “Apology is not enough. I will give you the life of your friend. You will owe me for your life. I will call you. Maybe next week. Maybe next year. I will ask you to do something and you will do it. One favor for your life. You will do it, I will not call you again. If you don’t do it, you will die. And your friend will owe me a favor. I think you know the rest. Do you agree to these terms?”

  If I didn’t, Kim and I died now. If I agreed now but couldn’t do what he asked, I died and Kim would have to make the same deal offered me. Not much of a decision.

  “Yes.”

  “Hand the phone to my daughter.”

  I held out the phone to Tatiana. She snatched it and stomped off into the dark. She spoke into the phone then listened for a couple minutes without saying another word. Finally, “Okay, Papa.”

  Tatiana put the phone in her jacket and walked over and stuck her goth-painted face up into mine.

  “Remember, Rick, I know where you live. And where your girlfriend lives. Enjoy your stay of execution.” She whipped around, snapped her fingers, and strode back to the Hummer. Her posse hustled into their SUVs and hit the ignitions. The lead Suburban spit gravel and dirt and headed down the dirt road, the Hummer three feet behind it with the other Suburban riding its tail.

  Stone ambled over to my car and got in. I let the dust settle on the dirt road and in my head, then got into my car.

  “I guess I owe you a thanks,” I said to Stone and started the car.

  “You owe me a lot more than that.”

  I drove out of the clearing wondering what I’d have to do for the two devils to whom I’d just given my soul.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  I MET DETECTIVE Sheets at the Brick House the next day. He led me upstairs into the same square white room where he’d interrogated me just a couple days ago. I sat down in the seat that seemed to be reserved just for me.

  “You sure you don’t want to grab a coffee like I suggested? It’s on me.” The walls were already closing in on me.

  “It’s here or nowhere.” Sheets sat down diagonally to me and dropped a manila file folder on the table. “I don’t want to talk at my desk because I don’t want to have to explain to the rest of the squad why I’m talking to you. You’re not very popular around here. Or thought of as trustworthy.”

  I wanted to tell him what I knew and get the hell out of there. But I couldn’t tell him everything and stay alive. I could point him at Dina Dergan, but couldn’t tell him the Russians had killed her.

  “I know someone with LJPD interviewed Dina Dergan. How close did you look at her?”

  Sheets let go an irritated sigh and opened the folder. He flipped through some pages and read one for about a minute. “Dina Dergan, founder of Dergan Consulting.” He held a piece of paper up that had probably been copied from the three-ring binder Domingo murder book and read from it. “Last known employer of Ms. Domingo. She and Ms. Domingo had lunch in Carlsbad on Thursday. Ms. Dergan had dinner with a client the night Sophia was murdered.”

  “Ms.? I thought she was married.”

  “Separated.”

  “Where was dinner and what time did she leave?” “Are you working for the defense, Rick? All of this should be in discovery.”

  “I’m working for the same thing you are, Detective. Justice.” I opened my hands in front of me. “Just trust me for five minutes.”
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br />   “I’ll try.” Sheets looked back at the sheet of paper. “They ate at Coasterra and Ms. Dergan left around eleven p.m. She was back home in Del Mar around eleven thirty.”

  “I’ve eaten at Coasterra. It’s in Point Loma.”

  “So?”

  “Did you know that Dergan owns a home on Lucinda Street in Point Loma under a shell company named Gaia Trust?”

  “No. Whether she does or doesn’t isn’t pertinent to our investigation. Besides, we already arrested the killer.”

  “The house is probably a five-minute drive from Coasterra.”

  “With no traffic, the drive from Coasterra to Del Mar is at least twenty-five minutes. And that’s just to the Del Mar Heights exit.” Sheets put the paper back into the folder. “Are you positing that Ms. Dergan left the Brigantine at eleven, made the five-minute drive to this house, killed Ms. Domingo, stabbing her forty-two times, carried her to Ms. Domingo’s car, stuck her in the trunk, drove her to the Parker Real Estate office, left the car there, flew like Mary Poppins back to the house in Point Loma, then drove home to Del Mar, all in thirty minutes?”

  “No. She didn’t do all that at once. How do you know that she got home at 11:30 p.m. Friday night?”

  “We’re relying on her word. But we know she was home at 12:45 a.m. when her son arrived after driving down from San Jose State that night.”

  “Did you know that someone using a Dergan Consulting company credit card rented a car from Hertz in Carlsbad Friday morning, the day of the murder, and it was dropped off at San Diego Airport Saturday morning at 4:27 a.m.?”

  I knew whoever murdered Sophia and left her car in the PRE parking lot had to have gotten back to their own car somehow. That morning, I’d played fake cop on the phone and called every car rental business in Carlsbad about rentals by Dina or Dergan Consulting. I got a hit at a Hertz near Palomar Airport. I’d committed a misdemeanor by impersonating a police officer, but my bluff had worked well enough to even get the drop-off information about Lindbergh Field.