“Dom, what are you doing in here?”
“Smoking my pipe.”
“I can see that,” Zeppe said, “but you never smoke in here. Something happen?”
Dominic swirled the brandy in his glass and took a sip. “Concetta called.”
“No shit. I wish I’d been here. How’s she doin’ in Texas?”
“She wanted to know about her father. She wanted to know if I am her father.”
Zeppe shook his head and took a seat in another chair. “What did you tell her?”
“I told her I wasn’t, and that her father died when she was young.”
“So you told her nothing.”
Dominic blew smoke from the side of his mouth. “I almost told her. I wanted to…”
“It would have been the perfect time. If she called, she was prepared to hear something she didn’t know. She would have been forgiving.”
“We’re a family, Giuseppe. We will stay a family.”
Zeppe stood and paced. “I know what you sacrificed for me. I know how much it hurt you not to be with Maria. All I’m saying is don’t let Connie slip away. Don’t risk it.”
Dominic stared out the window. “I never imagined I could love that little girl. The night I killed her father, she was just a baby—a gift for Maria.”
“What are you gonna do, Dom?”
“I don’t know, but I can’t lose another family.”
Chapter 47
Assault
Sahrina woke early, dressed in her sweats, walked down the hall, and then unlocked the door to the girl’s room. She was sitting on the bed.
“Where’s my mom? Why am I still here? You said I’d be going home.”
“It won’t be long,” Sahrina said.
“When? I want to go now.”
“Marissa! If you don’t listen to me, I will have to make you go to sleep again. You didn’t like that, remember?”
The girl lowered her head and pouted. “I’ll be good.”
“Excellent. I’m going for a run, but I won’t be long. Stay in your room until I get back, and don’t make noise. I’ll know if you do.”
“All right.”
Sahrina locked the door and headed to the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of water then dialed a number on her cell. A man answered.
“Are you dressed properly?” she asked.
“In my best Sunday suit,” the man said.
“Don’t play games with me. Yes or no. That’s all I like to hear.”
Silence followed. Sahrina almost felt his defiance. These men didn’t like that she was in control, but they’d get used to it. It was that or die. She waited him out. Finally, he said, “Yes.”
“Good. Be ready in forty-five minutes. I’ll meet you in the parking lot. You know which one?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect,” she said, and hung up. Afterward, she exited the front door and started her run. It would be a short run today; she needed to be back by six.
When Sahrina returned, she went to see the girl. She was awake, sitting on the side of the bed, her feet dangling in the air.
“I’m hungry,” Marissa said.
“Before we eat you have to use the bathroom.”
“I don’t have to.”
Sahrina picked her up and walked toward the bathroom. “I’ll bet you do,” she said, and set Marissa down near the toilet. “Try hard. I’ll wait outside the door.”
Marissa came out a few moments later, her face all smiles. “I went,” she said with a whisper.
Sahrina took her by the hand and led her back to the bedroom. “Great. Now you have to do one more thing for me.”
“I’m hungry.”
“I know you are, but close your eyes and I’ll give you a surprise.”
Sahrina waited a second or two. “All the way. I see you peeking.”
When Marissa closed her eyes, Sahrina covered her mouth with tape and blindfolded her. The girl thrashed about and tried screaming through the tape. Sahrina held her down and then tied her to the bedposts.
She watched for a moment, making sure the girl couldn’t escape, and then she left. It wouldn’t do for the girl to get away, or for a neighbor to hear her squealing.
Afterward, Sahrina packed a gym bag with a nylon stocking to cover her face, gloves to hide fingerprints, and a nine-millimeter fifteen-round Beretta 92FS with suppressor, along with two extra clips. Next, she went to the garage and loaded a few other items into the car. Now it was time to go.
Sahrina pulled in behind Cypress Fairbanks Hospital. From there it was a little more than a mile to their destination. A few minutes later, the SUV pulled up alongside of her. The passenger window rolled down, and a man peered out.
“You riding with us?”
“No. At your signal, I’ll come in from the street behind them. You remember the signal?”
The man narrowed his eyes and looked as if he might argue, but he nodded and said, “Yes.”
“And your friend?” she asked. “Everything is good?”
“Yes,” came the voice from the driver.
Sahrina looked at her watch. “Relax. We have four minutes before we leave.”
He started to roll up the window, but Sahrina said, “You know where to go afterward?”
“Yes,” he said.
Four minutes later, Sahrina started the car and lowered her window. The man in the SUV looked out. “It’s time,” she said, and pulled out.
***
Cruz woke early and checked the perimeter of the house while waiting for Justin to make coffee. He heard the shower running from the master bedroom and presumed that the Sniders were awake and preparing for their long day.
Long ordeal is more like it.
Mrs. Snider was a wreck, and he couldn’t blame her. It was bad enough pressing charges against a normal criminal. When that criminal was Carlos Cortes, it was something else altogether.
Patrick Snider walked into the kitchen with his daughter. “Any news on Marissa?”
“I haven’t spoken to anyone yet, sir. I’ll be calling them in a minute.”
“Is there coffee?” Snider asked.
Cruz pointed to the counter by the sink. “Justin is making some. It should be ready in a few minutes.”
“I’m hungry,” Trisha said to her father.
“Food is in the refrigerator,” Cruz said. “But if you want to wait until the relief arrives, I’ll make a run then and get you something else.”
That seemed to perk her up. “How about a taquito from Whataburger?”
Cruz laughed. “That sounds good. I could go for a couple myself.”
“When are they coming?” Trish asked.
“The relief team should be here by eight. We don’t have long to wait.”
“Coffee’s ready,” Justin hollered from the kitchen.
“Pour me a cup, will you?” Cruz said.
Daniel, the other deputy, walked in. “Save enough for me, partner. I’m gonna need a few cups this morning.”
“Not used to staying up late?” Cruz asked.
“Not this late,” Daniel said.
The sound of footsteps coming down the hall made Cruz turn his head. It was Mrs. Snider, and she looked as if she hadn’t slept all night. “Good morning, ma’am. Justin has coffee made, if you’d like some.”
“I think I would, please. It’s going to be a long day.”
“Yes, ma’am. But you’ll have support all the way. Detectives Gianelli and Denton will be with you. They’ll take good care of you.”
She nodded but didn’t seem any more relieved. “Is there any—”
Patrick hugged her and rubbed her back. “Nothing yet, dear. But the detective hasn’t spoken to the people at the station yet.”
She looked at her watch. “Can you call now?”
Cruz smiled. “Sure thing, ma’am. I’ll see who’s in.”
He walked out a sliding door onto the patio in the backyard. A six-foot fence separated this house from the neighbors on both si
des and in the back. Half a dozen trees shaded the main part of the lot. Cruz walked out a few feet and dialed Ribs.
“What’s up, Cruz? Everything okay?”
“We’re good. The Sniders are asking about the girl. Any word?”
“I haven’t heard anything. Have you called Tip or Coop?”
“No way I’m calling Coop this early,” Cruz said.
“Check with Julie. She’ll be in.”
“Okay, good idea.” Cruz hung up and dialed Julie.
“Good morning, Detective Cruz.”
“Julie, I’m with the Sniders, and they—”
“Want to know about their daughter? We don’t have anything. It’s like that woman disappeared.”
“Okay. Call me if you hear anything different.”
“I will. See you later.”
Cruz hung up but he didn’t go in right away. He didn’t want to walk in there to face the Sniders and take their hope away. Things were not looking good. Cruz knew that the longer a kidnap victim was missing the more likely it was they’d find a corpse.
As he pondered what he’d say, the door opened, and Patrick Snider poked his head out. “Anything?”
Cruz turned and walked toward Snider. “Not yet, sir.” He tried to keep the hopelessness from his voice, but from the look on Snider’s face, Cruz didn’t think he’d been successful.
“Try to give my wife some hope, Detective. She needs it.”
“I understand, sir. I will.”
They walked in together, and Cruz got some coffee. He put as much enthusiasm as he could into his voice. “Mrs. Snider, Detective Gianelli isn’t in yet, but I spoke with Julie, and she said everyone’s out working on it. They’re following some good leads they picked up overnight.”
Cathy’s face sank. “But we don’t have her.”
“No, ma’am. Not yet.”
She nodded and took a seat at the table. “Thank you.”
“When will the other cops be here?” Trisha asked.
“It won’t be long,” Cruz said. “In about an hour, if they’re on time, but they may be early.”
Patrick finished his coffee and took the cup to the sink. “I think I’ll take a shower, Cathy. I won’t be long.”
She got up from the table and started for the hall. “I’ll come with you. I need to dress in something else anyway.” She turned to her daughter. “Trish, are you coming? You need to change clothes.”
“Not yet, Mom. I’m going to ride to Whataburger with Detective Cruz.”
Cruz raised his eyebrows. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’d love to take you, but you should stay here.”
“I’m tired of this place.”
“No arguing,” Cathy said, and she walked off with Patrick.
“Relief coming in,” Justin said from the foyer.
“Woo hoo,” Daniel said.
Cruz looked at his watch—seven o’clock, an hour early. Not that he wasn’t grateful, but he never knew a relief team to be this early. “Don’t open the door,” he said.
Justin shot Cruz a look. “This ain’t my first rodeo, Detective.”
Outside, the two deputies walked toward the door. One of them stopped to talk on the radio before joining the other. Justin watched from the glass side panel on the front door. The bigger deputy knocked twice.
“What’s the color of the day?” Justin said from inside.
“We don’t have a color, but the password is mansion.”
Justin reached for the door handle. “Mansion it is,” he said, and opened the door.
The first shot wasn’t much louder than a balloon pop. It hit Justin in the chest, near the center. His eyes went wide, and his mouth opened. He was wearing a vest, but the impact knocked him backward. As he fell, he reached for his gun.
The second shot sounded louder, like a cap gun. This bullet caught him in the throat. Blood gurgled out. Justin’s arms flailed, and he lost control of his legs. He landed flat on his back in the foyer.
The two men dressed as deputies burst into the house, guns raised and firing. Cruz had been moving through the living room. He squeezed Trish’s hand tightly and dragged her as he ran down the hall, screaming, “Snider, open the door! Call 9-1-1!”
He busted through the bedroom door. Mrs. Snider was in the midst of dressing. Snider was still in the shower. He shoved Trish at her. “Put her in the closet! Get in with her.”
Snider came out, a towel around him. Cathy was crying and not in the closet yet. Cruz got on the radio. “Shots fired! Officer down at the safe house. Officers under fire. Repeat. Shots fired. Officer down.”
“What can I do?” Snider asked.
“Stay away from the door,” Cruz said, and then he grabbed hold of a corner of the mattress and yanked it off the bed. “Help me with this. Put it against the door.”
They leaned the mattress against it, and then Snider slid the nightstand behind the mattress to support it. Cathy and Trisha were huddled in the closet. Cruz radioed again, repeating the distress call. This time he added something.
“Tell Delgado that they knew the password. Repeat, they knew the password.”
***
After the first shot hit Justin, Daniel ducked into the kitchen. A four-foot wall separated the eating area from the living room. Daniel crouched behind it and peered over the top. The two men entered the house; he fired. Return fire came rapidly, peppering the wall in front of him, bullets whizzing past his head. He ducked, moved to the right, and took a shot from a position near the floor. His hands shook, and he missed.
The men rushed him, taking turns firing. Daniel retreated toward the garage. As he made a move from the kitchen to the laundry room, he caught a shot in the right leg. He fell to his knees, rolled left, and fired, getting off three rounds—all misses. Daniel braced his left foot against the door jamb and pushed himself into the laundry room. Before he could close the door, they rushed him. The first shot hit him in the back, just above the right kidney. Two more followed quickly.
Daniel fell to the floor, and this time he didn’t get up.
***
Sahrina walked quickly through the backyard of the house behind the safe house. She tossed her gym bag over the fence, followed by another bag. Inside were two small cans of gasoline and a Molotov cocktail. She climbed the fence, picked up the bags, then moved swiftly toward the safe house. Shots were coming from the bedroom—the loud ones were from the cops. Her men had silencers. A window faced the back yard, with shades drawn.
Drawing her gun, Sahrina entered the house through the sliding door and walked to the kitchen. She grabbed a frying pan from the cabinet and went back outside. She walked to the master bedroom window. Using the pan, she broke the glass, unscrewed the top on one of the gas cans, and threw it into the room. Shots came from the room in a spread pattern. The cop was hoping to hit her, or at least hold her off. She unscrewed the top of the other can and tossed it into the room. More shots came, but only a few. He probably wanted to conserve ammunition.
From inside the room, a man yelled, “Take them into the bathroom. Lock the door and don’t come out.”
Sahrina lit one of the kerosene-soaked rags on the end of a bottle and tossed it gently into the room. A huge whoosh sounded as flames consumed the room. A man screamed. Sahrina darted for the back door and went into the house.
She approached the hallway and shouted. “Time to go!”
Her accomplices ran toward her. When they were a few feet away, she fired two shots into each of their heads, and then she lit the other two Molotov cocktails, tossing one into the hallway and the other into the kitchen.
She walked out through the back door and easily climbed over the fence. Less than a minute later, she was in her car and driving home.
Only one more loose end.
Chapter 48
A Leak
The alarm went off, and I was half-tempted to push the snooze, but we had too much planned today. At the top of the list was bringing Cathy and Patrick in for the
lineup. I couldn’t wait to see Carlos get his due.
I went to the kitchen, put water on for espresso, popped a bagel in the toaster, and then went back to the bedroom to dress. I was tying my shoes when the phone rang. I looked at the caller ID. “Good morning, Tip.”
“Morning yourself, darlin’. I hope you’re ready.”
I looked at the clock. “It’s only six thirty.”
“I’m on my way,” Tip said. “We need an early start.”
“Shit. All right, but we’ll have to stop for coffee on the way in.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Tip said.
“Have you talked to anybody this morning?” I asked.
“Ribs called a few minutes ago. He’s already talked to Cruz. Everything’s fine, and they plan on bringing the Sniders in by nine.”
“Okay. See you in a few.”
I was waiting outside when Tip pulled up. I climbed in the car and said, “First stop is coffee.”
“Starbucks?”
“I don’t care where, as long as it’s not corner-store coffee.”
Forty minutes later, we turned onto the Loop heading south. That’s when my phone rang. It was Coop. “What’s up, Captain?”
“They hit the safe house! Officers down!”
“What? Who’s down? What about the Sniders?”
“We don’t know anything else. I’ve got units on the way. Cruz called it in.”
“We’re on it,” I said.
I told Tip, and then he put the lights on and punched the gas. We hit ninety within seconds. “Call Ribs,” he said. “See if he knows anything.”
Tip’s phone rang before I dialed. It was Ribs, so I answered.
“You hear?” he asked.
“We’re on the way. Almost to 290 now.”
“I’m coming in from Highway 6,” he said. “I’ll be there in five.”
“Son of a bitch!” I said. “How the hell did they find them?”
“There’s a leak,” Tip said. “We’ve got a fuckin’ rat in the house.”
Who it could be? Who knew?
Fortunately we were going against traffic on 290, but there was still plenty of traffic. The siren helped. Cars moved out of our way, but some not fast enough. Tip laid on the horn as we passed a car that had been slow to react.
Bullet From Dominic Page 25
