When Doubt Creeps In: A Harry Bronson Suspense Thriller

by L C Hayden

  El Patron jabbed the blade toward Beto. “Then cut.”

  “Que?” Beto looked down at the blade and up to El Patron’s eyes, and then back at the blade. The vein in his temples bulged.

  “Cut.”

  “Cut what?”

  El Patron waited a few seconds. “Your arm. Cut deep. I want to see blood pour out.”

  Air fled Beto’s lungs in harsh gasps. Sweat soaked his shirt.

  “You cut, or I cut.” El Patron held on to the knife. He pressed it against Beto’s cheek. “You choose.”

  Pablo’s phone beeped and he looked down. “It’s from Mike. What do you want me to tell him?”

  El Patron snapped the switchblade shut, straightened up, and looked at Beto. “Thank your lucky stars.” He turned his attention to Pablo. “Tell him I’m not available to talk. I’ll call him back.”

  Pablo nodded. “El Patron will call you back.” He disconnected and returned his cell to his pants pocket.

  “I need to think.” El Patron pointed to Beto and Ignacio. “You two go. I’ll call when I need you.”

  Beto sprung to his feet and headed toward the door. Ignacio followed close behind.

  “Me, too?” Pablo remained sitting.

  “No, you stay.”

  Pablo nodded and waited until his two co-workers had closed the door behind them. “Mind if I ask you a question?”

  “Ask away.” El Patron walked around the desk and sat down. “How do you want to handle Mike?”

  “As always, through the chain-of-command. We’ll let Pedro bring him in.”

  Pablo’s forehead wrinkled. “Here?”

  “No.” El Patron cast him a look that told him he was being an idiot. “Too many things can go wrong if we do it here. Tell Pedro to set up the meeting in the desert. The body will be easier to dispose of there.”

  Pablo took in a deep breath. “The body. That means you plan to—”

  “—kill him. Of course. What other option is there?”

  Pablo didn’t speak for a long moment. He shrugged. “I can’t think of an alternative.”

  El Patron leaned toward Pablo. “You have something against killing Mike?”

  Slowly, Pablo shook his head. “It’s just that first you killed Finch, then—”

  “Technically, it was Mike who killed Finch. He’s the one who fired the shot.”

  “But after the chief loaded Mike’s gun, you’re the one who switched the blank for the live ammo.”

  “Mike is a trained detective. He should have made sure that his gun had a blank.”

  Pablo nodded. “I can’t disagree there. But what I’m saying is that maybe we’re attracting too much attention. For years, we’ve had this nice quiet operation. I don’t want to see it jeopardized.”

  “Make no mistake. Mike is a dangerous animal. That’s why we must get rid of him. I’ll kill him and tell the police I shot him in self-defense. He pulled out a gun on me while refusing arrest. I will be cleared of all charges. I’ll be the hero. After all, Mike is the number one enemy right now and everyone is on the lookout for him.”

  “That will work—except for one minor detail.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Mike’s right-hand man, Alex Bentley. Do you think he will transfer his loyalty to you?”

  El Patron puffed. “Hardly. But you leave Bronson to me.”

  Pablo’s eyebrows knit slightly in puzzlement. “Who?”

  “There’s no Alex Bentley. His real name is Harry Bronson. He was Mike’s first partner and still remains his best friend.”

  Pablo took a breath. “He’s a policeman, too?”

  “A detective. An ex-detective. He’s retired, and he should have stayed retired. He had no business butting in.”

  Pablo ran his fingers through his hair. “That really complicates matters. What are we going to do about … about—”

  “Bronson.”

  “Bronson,” Pablo finished the sentence.

  El Patron leaned back and smiled. “I’ve been thinking. I’ll meet with Bronson and tell him we are both going to be there when Mike meets El Patron, but before we can do that, some of my men will capture us and hold us prisoners. They will take me to a separate room to interrogate me, but of course, I’ll manage to escape so that I, as El Patron, will be able to keep my meeting with Mike.”

  Pablo nodded. “I can see the possibilities.” He frowned. “But you still haven’t answered my question. What are we going to do about Bronson?”

  “By the time Bronson manages to escape and heads toward the designated place, Mike will be dead. Bronson will find me, a very grieving detective, mourning over having to kill Mike.” El Patron’s smile broadened into a grin. “I can’t wait to see Mike’s reaction. All of this time he has been wanting to meet El Patron and all of the time, I’ve been right there in front of his nose.”

  Pablo curled a smile. “And the great Detective Dave de la Rosa strikes again.”

  Dave threw his head back and laughed a sound between a bark and a snort.

  34

  “I heard some very disturbing things so I decided to follow up.” Dave looked at the cell to make sure he wasn’t on speakerphone. “I’m here at the Hobbs Police Station. Give me half-an-hour and then we can meet. I’m sure you’ll want to hear what I have to say.” Dave leaned back on the wooden chair located in the Hobbs Auto Shop office. He put his feet up on the desk and smiled when he told Bronson the lie.

  “Half-an-hour it is,” Bronson said. “Where do we meet?”

  “How about Green Meadow Park? There’s a bench facing the lake. I’ll be there. Do you need the address?”

  “I can find it.”

  Dave disconnected and looked at Pablo who sat across from him. “And that’s how that’s done.”

  “You don’t think Bronson suspects anything?”

  Dave smirked. “He doesn’t have a clue, and do you know why he doesn’t?”

  Pablo shook his head.

  “Because he allowed his feelings to interfere with logic. He is so desperate to help his friend that he can’t see what’s in front of his face. Take that as a lesson. Always put the job before your feelings.”

  Pablo nodded then nodded again. “That’s why you reached the top.”

  Dave bolted upright. “Make no mistake about that. I haven’t yet peaked. Stick with me, and we’ll both get there.”

  Pablo grinned from ear-to-ear.

  * * *

  Bronson sat quietly staring at the lake. He sipped his coffee and set the cup down on the park bench. Mike, what have you done? His fingers drummed on his lap. How can I help you when you refuse to be helped? He reached for his coffee but didn’t drink any.

  A few yards in front of him, a bird dove and scooped a mouthful of something, maybe water. He flew to a nearby branch and chirped. For a long time, Bronson watched the bird as it went from limb to limb.

  He moved swiftly and with no apparent purpose to its actions, but all the time, Bronson knew the bird alerted to any possible dangers.

  Possible dangers.

  Should he alert?

  “You’re here early.”

  Startled, Bronson looked up to see Dave staring down at him.

  “You beat me to it.” In his hands, Dave held two cups of coffee.

  Bronson pointed to the cup on the bench. “That one is empty. Thanks for the refill.” He reached for the one Dave held. He set the other one down and almost spilled its full content.

  “I ordered it the way you like it: full of sugar and cream.”

  “Perfect. Thanks.”

  Dave sat beside him and pointed to the lake. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Bronson nodded. “Very peaceful.”

  “It is, and it’s the opposite of you.”

  Bronson’s sight pivoted from the lake to Dave’s face.

  “I can see it in your eyes,” Dave said. “You’re worried.”

  Bronson looked away.

  Dave ran his fingers through his hair and frowne
d. “Don’t tell me. Mike refuses to turn himself in.”

  Bronson gulped down some of the coffee. “He said he would.”

  “But?”

  “But I can’t seem to read him as I have before. All I know is that he wants to bring El Patron in. He said he’d turn himself in after that.”

  “But you’re not sure he will.”

  “Exactly.”

  Dave tapped Bronson’s arm in a brotherly way. “Maybe he thinks he’s got bigger fish to fry.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That’s part of the story I want to tell you, but please, don’t ask me for my source. You know how that goes.”

  “I do.”

  Dave looked around, making sure no one was near. “Right after Finch was murdered, Mike set up the delivery of what I believe was a very lucrative drop off Egyptian artifacts. Mike’s share was two Egyptian god figurines that belonged to Cleopatra. They’re worth $5 million, and he said he had a buyer.”

  Bronson’s body sagged as though the words wore him down. His grip on the coffee cup tightened and the hot, brown liquid overflowed. Bronson set the cup down but didn’t bother to clean his hand.

  Dave continued, “Soon as several huge boxes filled with Egyptian artifacts were dropped off, Mike demanded that the statues be given to him immediately. Once in his hands, he boarded the contraband plane and disappeared for a couple of days. Rumor has it, he sold the statues to a private collector. I don’t know what else happened back there, but by the time Mike returned, he was ready to be head of Los Muertos. That means he plans to replace El Patron, and that’s why he is so eager to hand him to the police.” Dave shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe Mike even figured a way to frame El Patron for Finch’s death.”

  Bronson bent down and picked up his cup. He took a swig and set it back down by his feet. “I see a huge hole in that theory.”

  Dave moved his index finger back-and-forth, indicating no. “Not a theory but facts. Facts that I can prove. But we can get back to that later. Let’s talk about that hole first.”

  “Let’s.”

  A cool lake breeze blew and for the moment, Dave remained quiet. When he spoke, his tone was soft. “Mike hands El Patron to us, he turns himself in, and Mike is acquitted.” He looked at Bronson. “So far, so good?”

  Bronson nodded.

  Dave paused for a brief moment. “This is where we part ways. The way I see it, once we have El Patron under custody, he’ll squeal in an effort to avoid jail time. That means he’ll reveal Mike’s involvement in Finch’s death. No way is Mike going to allow that to happen.”

  “But Mike is innocent, and we’ll be able to prove it. He—”

  Dave waved his hand, silencing Bronson. “Okay, let’s look at this from a different perspective. Mike tells us where he’s meeting El Patron, but by the time we get there, El Patron is dead. And Mike? He disappears and takes his business elsewhere.” Dave lowered his head and rubbed his eyes. “Can you see this happening?”

  Bronson bit his lower lip. “As I was sayin’. I know Mike. He wouldn’t do somethin’ like that.”

  “So you’re still defending him.”

  “Let’s just say this doesn’t sound like Mike. So humor me. Let’s for a minute go with the theory that Mike is innocent.”

  Dave shrugged. “An unbelievable theory, but I’ll hear you out.”

  “El Patron is settin’ a trap.”

  Dave’s eyebrows arched. “How so?”

  “Mike is goin’ to the desert believin’ that Pablo, Beto, and Ignacio, along with a handful of other men, are goin’ to stand by him. Instead, their loyalties remain with El Patron. Before he has a chance to hand El Patron to us, they kill Mike.”

  “What do you propose we do to prevent that?”

  “We notify the local authorities. We arrive in large numbers. This way, we not only apprehend El Patron, but we’ll also arrest several of the gang members. With luck, we’ll destroy Los Muertos.”

  “That would be ideal, but it’s a no-go.”

  Bronson remained quiet, waiting for Dave to explain.

  “Remember I told you I was at the police station?”

  Bronson nodded.

  “I had the same plan you outlined. But when I got there, I saw a mass movement to apprehend ‘that cop killer.’ What I saw, I didn’t like. The hate. The anger.” Dave shook himself. “They want to bring him in alive or dead, and dead seems to be the preferred method. If you treasure Mike’s life, I’d advise you not to get the local police involved.” He opened his hands and waived them, telling Bronson it was up to him. “I’ll go with you to protect Mike, but this is your call. What do you want to do?”

  Bronson took in a deep breath. “I feel we’re gropin’ like blind men in a maze. I suggest we get there early so that when Mike and El Patron and his men arrive, we’re ready for them.”

  “That’s not a bad idea.” Dave nodded. “Do you know where this meeting is taking place?”

  “I talked to Mike right before I called you. He told me they’re meetin’ in the desert. He gave me specific directions, but since I’m not from here, I was hopin’ you’d get us there faster.”

  “Tell me what you know.”

  “Someone named Pedro took care of the details. Mike and Pedro are to—”

  “Alex Bentley.” The loud, firm voice came from behind Bronson.

  Bronson recognized Pablo from the meeting after the car chase. What was he doing here? He forced a smile. “It’s Pablo, if I remember right.”

  Pablo nodded. “That’s my name. Too bad you can’t say the same.”

  Bronson shrugged. “I’m not sure I could convince people I was a Pablo.”

  “Very funny, Mr. Bronson.” He spread the word out so it sounded like Brr-oon-son. “Or should I say Detective Bronson?”

  Shiitt! He put on his poker face. “Bronson is fine.”

  “Speaking of funny, I find it very amusing that you’re keeping company with another detective. Tell me, what plans have you two come up to destroy us?”

  “Thing is—” As he spoke, Bronson’s hand reached for his gun. “—we’re more action than planners.”

  “Freeze right there,” Pablo said. “Both of you. Look to your right.”

  A man, leaning on a tree, held an open book. As Bronson and Dave glanced his way, he moved the book down just far enough to reveal the gun pointed at them.

  “Now look to your left.”

  Bronson and Dave did. This man held the gun behind an open newspaper.

  “There are three more men, not including me. If you want to live, I would advise you to head slowly toward the red sedan. Get in and keep your hands where we can see them. That’s Beto standing by the car. He will relieve you of your weapons.”

  Bronson headed for the car, Dave following close to him.

  Shiiit!

  35

  As soon as the sedan turned onto Main and 5th Avenue, Bronson knew where they were being taken. The auto shop. He and Dave would be thrown into that makeshift cell he had previously occupied. He searched his mind, recalling each detail. Small. Empty. Nothing in there that could help them.

  He looked down. On the floor, he spotted a wadded piece of paper. Next to it was a paper clip and a penny. He scooted over, placing his left foot on top of the clip. He dragged it as close to the edge of the seat as possible.

  He raised his right hand and formed talons with his fingers. He scratched his head with slow, jerky movements. All eyes reverted to his right hand.

  He inched his left hand forward and felt around until his hand located the paperclip. He pocked it.

  He should have also picked up the penny. Who knows? Maybe that would have been the lucky penny.

  “Hands on your lap where we can see them,” Pablo said.

  Bronson brought down his right hand and placed both hands on his lap. “As you wish.”

  Beto turned into the shop’s parking lot, but instead of parking in the front, he drove around to the back. He turned off t
he engine when they reached the back door.

  “Out,” Pablo said. “And no funny business from either of you. Do I need to remind you that I’m the one carrying the gun?”

  “No, no need to do that. We remember.” Bronson scooted out and stood next to the car. He scanned the area, searching and processing information.

  Beto pushed him. “Inside.”

  Bronson regained his balance and moved toward the building. Dave followed close to him. As soon as they stepped inside, Bronson noticed that the door to their cell was ajar, an open mouth ready to devour its victims.

  Beto pushed them inside the cell and slammed the door shut. Bronson managed to pull the light string hanging from the ceiling just before the darkness swallowed them. The bulb bathed them more in shadows than light.

  Dave looked around. “Not exactly a Holiday Inn.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “What do you suggest we do?”

  Bronson stood still, like a bird ready to take flight.

  “What’s wrong? What do you hear?”

  “It’s not what I hear. It’s what I don’t hear.”

  Dave frowned. “Huh?”

  “Last time I was here, they pushed the desk against the door. If I managed to open the door, I still couldn’t get out.”

  “Did you?”

  “Did I what? Manage to get out?” Bronson shook his head. “Look around. There’s nothing we can use to open that door. Unless you see somethin’ I don’t.”

  Dave ignored the question. “Is that why you think they didn’t push the desk against the door this time?”

  Just as Bronson opened his mouth to speak, the doorknob turned. Pablo stood holding the door open. “El Patron is here. He wants to talk to you both, but one at a time. Who wants to go first?”

  Bronson and Dave exchanged looks.

  “Bronson it is!” Pablo said.

  Bronson stepped forward but at the last moment, Pablo extended his right arm, preventing him from going any further. “I’m thinking that the one who has the most information is Detective De La Rosa. Let’s start with him.” He moved to the side, allowing Dave to step out.

  Pablo locked the door behind Dave, leaving Bronson in semi-darkness.