“I saw those when you were on the gurney at the Emergency Room.”
“Oh, the reason I knocked, Marie said to tell you breakfast will be ready in a few minutes. I need a shower after my run.”
She shook her head. “You’re way ahead of me. Better be careful with that arm in the shower.”
He thought about adding a quip that he might need her to scrub his back, but he knew she’d endured more than her share of sexual innuendo during her days as a cop.
Sid bathed and dressed, then joined Jaz and the Wallaces in the kitchen. A large plate of bacon and eggs, plus homemade biscuits and strawberry preserves, washed down with hot coffee, left him ready to face the day’s hurdles.
“What are you going to do about that arm?” Jaz asked. “They told you in the Emergency Room to follow up with your regular doctor.”
“I’ll give it a chance to start healing before I undergo that ordeal. Right now I’m interested in getting some action out of the U.S. Attorney.”
He found the office in a large building behind the U.S. Courthouse on Ninth Avenue South. After navigating all the security, Sid explained his problem to a receptionist and was directed to the number two man, who held the title of first assistant U.S. Attorney. After telling his story for the second time, he was escorted in to meet the boss. A pleasant looking man with bushy dark hair, the top federal lawyer for the Middle District of Tennessee gave him a firm handshake and directed him to a chair.
“It sounds like you have an intriguing story to tell,” he said. “An innocent man is being held for murder?”
“You may be familiar with the Djuan Burden case,” Sid said.
The attorney nodded.
“My firm was hired by Burden’s grandmother to look into the case. We found evidence of Medicare fraud at the store where the owner was shot and turned it over to the FBI. We also discovered evidence indicating that a hired killer was probably responsible for the murder. The FBI followed up and confirmed that it was a hit man from Dallas.”
“The FBI told you this?” he asked.
“I’ve been working closely with Agent Baron Eggers. He tells me his supervisor is reluctant to go to the District Attorney because it’s still an active case. Djuan Burden spent half of his life in prison for a mistake he made at age twelve. He’s tried to make amends since being released, but he’s been jailed the past week and a half for a crime he didn’t commit. It’s an injustice I hope you can do something to correct.”
“This is a serious matter, Mr. Chance. I appreciate your bringing it to my attention. There are a couple of investigations under way that might be involved, but I’ll certainly look into it and see what can be done to rectify the situation as far as Burden is concerned.”
Sid thanked him and left. Back in his car, he called Rachel Ransom and told her to relax, that mountains were being moved. She thanked him tearfully. Next he called Bart Masterson, to see if the police had uncovered anything new regarding the intruder from Wednesday night.
“I know you’ve talked to your FBI friend,” Bart said. “He gave us the info on Carlos Ruiz, which saved us waiting for DNA results. The check with TSA agents at the airport didn’t produce any sign of him, though. I still think he’s gone. If he got treated, it wasn’t by any legitimate clinic.”
“I figured as much. But considering what Eggers heard from the folks at Quantico, I doubt that he’s left. They think he’ll want another showdown with me.”
“You don’t need that, Sid. It could be true, though. I heard something this morning I discounted at the time. Maybe I should have paid more attention.”
“What was it?”
“A passenger returning on a flight from Atlanta reported his car stolen from the airport garage. It could have been Ruiz after he turned in the rental car. Nobody’s reported seeing the license number yet.”
“They won’t,” Sid said. “He likely used a plate he’d stolen somewhere else. What kind of car was it?”
“Black twenty-eleven Focus.”
“He likes Fords. Probably used the same tag that was on the rental car when he came to my house.”
“Sounds like you’re dealing with a smart bastard, Sid. Staying at Jaz’s house is probably a good move.”
“Yeah, but I can’t stay there for long. I hope he makes a move you guys can tune in on.”
“We’ll keep looking. By the way, Wick called. Grimm told him he’d been by the Office of Professional Accountability. So the shit’s headed for the fan.”
Back at Jaz’s place, Sid set up his table in her office and worked on the missing heir case. He had narrowed down the woman’s location to New Orleans but found records lost or misplaced after Katrina. Jaz had gone downtown for another meeting with K.C. Urban about the upcoming hearing at the Tennessee Human Rights Commission. She called to say it would be after noon before she got home.
After lunch, Sid linked to his computer at home and checked his alarm system. The log was clear. Nothing had been triggered. He called his next-door neighbor, a Dupont retiree from the nearby Old Hickory plant, to find out if he had seen anything unusual.
“Hi, Ralph,” he said. “This is Sid. How’s everything around there?”
“Fine. What about you? Haven’t had any more trouble, I hope.”
Ralph had wandered out that morning to see what all the lights and sirens were about.
“No, no more problems. I’m staying with a friend for a few days, but my alarm system at the house is up and running. I’d appreciate your giving me a call on the cell phone if you see anything out of the ordinary.”
“I was just about to go check my mailbox. Want me to see if you have anything?”
“Sure. You can let me know if you find something that looks important.”
“Just hold on, Sid. I’ll carry my phone and you won’t have to wait.”
Ralph chattered away about neighborhood gossip as he walked out to the street. Sid could hear him shuffling papers when he got to the mailbox.
“Looks like junk and a bill or two,” Ralph said. “Hmm, you got an invitation to a party. Card says something about a Mountain Party. Don’t see a date. Want me to take your mail in and hold it for you?”
A Mountain Party? That sounded like something he needed to look into. “Just leave everything in the box, Ralph. I’ll come by and pick it up.”
He told John that he needed to go by home to check his mail, that he would be back shortly. Mid-afternoon traffic on the interstates moved through town with no delays, and he soon pulled into his driveway. At the mailbox he found a few inconsequential flyers, bills for garbage pickup, water and sewer, and a post card with what appeared to be a hand-lettered message. He climbed into the car and looked at the card.
You are invited to a Mountain Party.
Come as you are.
Your Hideaway Partner
He checked the postmark. Yesterday afternoon at the central mail facility on Royal Parkway, near the Donelson Pike exit to I-40. That’s why it got such quick delivery. He read the message again. Two key words stood out—Mountain and Hideaway. He thought back to that newspaper article Jaz had pulled up on her computer yesterday. It mentioned that he had referred to his secluded cabin as a Mountain Hideaway. To get there you needed to travel some fifty or so miles east on I-40.
The message came through loud and clear. Carlos Ruiz had invaded his property and challenged Sid to come after him.
Chapter 39
During the drive back to Franklin Road, Sid pondered that cryptic message and what he should do about it. He had gone into his house and retrieved a small scale map of the area showing details of his property. The hired killer’s apparent decision to take over his cabin galled him beyond words. He had worked his butt off building that structure, and it had served as his home for three long years. Sending the invitation was a brazen move. His first reaction was an urge to head for the hinterlands and flush out Carlos Ruiz. After a little more prudent consideration, he realized that rushing off without careful
planning was exactly what Ruiz hoped for. It would be an invitation to disaster.
He found Jaz in her office when he arrived at the mansion.
“John told me you had to make a trip to your house,” she said. “What’s up?”
Sid dropped the card on her desk. “Look at the signature line. That ring a bell?”
She stared at the message. “Your Hideaway Partner…your hideaway. The cabin?”
“Bingo. My Partner is a sick joke by a sick character who would like to complete a trio of murders.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And he’s betting you’ll be motivated by a challenge to your machismo.”
Sid grinned. “I thought about it.”
“Bart and Wick won’t be any help up there.”
“Bart, maybe, if we can convince Metro that it’s a chance to get a suspect who’s likely committed two murders, as well as an attempt on my life.”
“What about the county sheriff up there? As owner of a rather large hillside, or mountain if you prefer, you’re a taxpayer.”
“It’s a small county. I’m sure he wouldn’t be willing to allocate the manpower without a request from another police agency. We have no evidence of a crime in his jurisdiction.”
“Could Agent Eggers get involved?”
“As he told me, the FBI has chosen to leave the murder case to Metro for the present. Eggers’ main interest in Ruiz is to find out if his employer is involved in Medicare fraud.”
Jaz got up from her desk and strode across to the nearest bookshelf, running a fingernail along the spines as she moved around the room. She stopped and looked back at Sid.
“It’s the old rock and hard place, isn’t it? If we don’t follow up quickly, he’ll think you aren’t coming and check out. Next time you may not get a warning.”
“And the chances of getting law enforcement to move that fast on anything are pretty slim. I did pick up something favorable from my visit with the U.S. Attorney.”
“Is he willing to step in and give Djuan a break?”
“He sounded definitely interested in the case. He promised he’d follow up to see what could be done. Again, it’s a question of how fast the Feds might move.”
“Did Bart pass along what Ruiz said to you about the Earline Ivey murder?” Jaz asked.
“Yeah, but I don’t know if his superiors have bought it, particularly with Chief Kozlov involved.”
Sid opened the envelope containing the map he had brought from home and spread it out on the table. “I’d better start working out a plan to go up there tomorrow.”
“We’d better work out a plan,” she said. “You’re not going up there without me. You got mired in this mess in an effort to get me out of it. We’re in this together, Sid.”
He didn’t like the idea of putting her at risk, but he knew there would be no changing her mind. He had to admit another gun would double their odds.
“Okay,” he said. “I have a map that shows details of the area. I know every inch of that property on foot, but I need to refresh my mind on the big picture.”
“I have a suggestion. I’ll call Agee, the company helicopter pilot—you remember him.”
“Yeah. He flew us down to Centerville during the pollution case.”
“If the chopper is available tomorrow, he can fly us up there and make a low level pass over the cabin. We might even spot Ruiz.”
Sid looked up at her. “Are you planning to rappel down?”
“No, dummy. I’ll have Cassie, my admin assistant, drive the car up. Pick us a place where he can land and let us out near the car. She can fly back here with Agee.”
“Call him and see what he can do. I’ll go over this map and get to work on devising a plan of attack. ”
After getting the flight arranged, Jaz called her assistant and asked her to come by and pick up the Lexus. She also called her lawyer to inform the court she would be making a short business trip in the morning.
While they watched a TV news show in the rec room after dinner, Bart called Sid’s cell phone.
“They’ve done it to me again,” he said in a voice that dripped with disgust.
“Done what?” Sid asked.
“I’ve been pulled off everything in the precinct and assigned to a special unit investigating the murder of that bank president in Belle Meade.”
Sid had read about the case, which took place in the small satellite city on the west side of town, Nashville’s posh old-wealth residential area.
“Who’s taking over the Carlos Ruiz case?”
“I don’t know who they’ll assign it to…or when.”
“If Jaz and I are successful, Ruiz won’t be on the loose after tomorrow anyway.”
“What are you talking about?”
Sid told him about the postcard with the Mountain Party invitation and what it meant. He explained their belief that it they didn’t make a move now, Ruiz would be gone.
“You two are going up there after him like a couple of vigilantes?” Bart asked.
“Do you know of any cops who want to go with us?”
Bart grunted. “Right now it would probably take an act of Congress to get things moving here.”
“I don’t think this guy’s going to wait around before making some kind of move,” Sid said.
“He’s a sharp cookie, Sid.”
“I know.”
“He’s not going to be holed up in that cabin waiting for you to jump him.”
“We have a plan of attack.”
“Don’t you have a contact in the sheriff’s office up there?”
“Yeah. I plan to call him in the morning before we go.”
“I wish I could go with you and make everything legal, but there’s no way, not with this new assignment they’ve stuck me on. I’ve been at it most of the day. Just got home a few minutes ago.”
After he shut off the phone, Sid thought about the new assignment. Had it come from the CJC, like the order to take Bart off the Ivey case? Chief Kozlov in action again, keeping the pressure off of Ramsey.
“I heard you mention the Ruiz case,” Jaz said. “What happened to Bart?”
Sid told her about the Belle Meade murder assignment. “Frankly, it smells a little fishy to me.”
“Do you think Ramsey had a hand in it?”
“If he’s into this business as deeply as we think, I’m sure he’s figured out that Ruiz is his man.”
“I don’t know much about hired guns, but I’d think they would keep their clients at arms length.”
“True. Kozlov would likely have dealt with him through a third party, maybe his drug contact.”
Jaz twisted around in her chair to face him. “Tomorrow had better be this guy’s final day of contacting people with murder on his mind.”
Sid agreed, but he knew they were headed for a real fight. Carlos Ruiz would not give up easily. This was not just another assignment. He had the strongest of motivations—survival.
Chapter 40
Sid skipped his run Saturday morning. Battling the difficult terrain on his property would provide more than enough exercise for the day. The years he’d spent there hauling materials up the hill, including forty-pound bags of concrete mix, sheets of plywood, and large four-by-four posts, had honed his body into the best shape he’d been in since rehab from those gunshot wounds. Before leaving Jaz’s house, he called the deputy he’d befriended while living at the cabin. He was the only one familiar with the rugged path up the steep incline.
“Hi, Cliff, this is Sid Chance. I trust you’re keeping the county safe these days?”
“Trying to. You back at your cabin?”
“I’m coming up in a little while. Thought I’d give you a heads up.”
He told the deputy he had reason to believe a suspect in a Nashville murder could be hiding out on his property.
“What makes you think that?”
“I got something anonymous in the mail. It’s sort of complicated, and I could be all wet, of course, but that’s my take o
n it. Jaz LeMieux and I are coming up to check it out.”
“Does the Metro PD know about it?”
“I told a detective friend, but they’re not currently looking in that direction.”
“You’re a former cop. I don’t need to tell you to be careful. If you see any evidence that the guy could be around, give us a call.”
Sid and Jaz showed up at John C. Tune Airport dressed in green and brown camouflage outfits and hiking shoes. The rest of their equipment had been stashed in the trunk of Jaz’s Lexus. Agee, a short, broad-shouldered man, met them on the ramp of Nashville’s general aviation airport beside the Bell Jetranger III. He had learned his trade with the 101st Airborne Division at Fort Campbell. He wore a green military style flight suit.
“Good to see you again, Mr. Chance,” he said, shaking Sid’s hand. “So we’re flying up to the Cordell Hull Dam area.”
Sid took out his map, handed it to the pilot and pointed. “There’s my property. The location of the cabin is marked. We think there’s a guy in the area who has no business being there. We need to fly by at fairly low level and low speed to get a good look at what’s going on. We don’t want to be too obvious, though, and tip him off.”
“No problem.” Agee looked around at Jaz. “You resemble a couple of special ops types.”
“That’s what I was in Nam,” Sid said. “Army Special Forces.”
“I remember now.” He glanced at the map. “And I’m supposed to land you where?”
Sid pointed to an intersection. “Right here.”
“Okay. Let’s get on board and crank up this critter.”
He climbed into the pilot’s seat. Jaz and Sid followed, taking the rear bench. Agee began flipping switches. The whine rose in pitch and the engine slowly came to life. Sid could feel the rotor turning overhead as the pilot checked his instruments. He had a sudden feeling of déjà vu, but the plush burgundy interior was a far cry from what the Army had flown in Vietnam.
Agee studied Sid’s map and made some marks on his navigation chart as the chopper warmed up. The noise made conversation difficult, and the passengers lapped into silence as the aircraft lifted off and headed east across the city. A few thousand feet above them, the clouds thickened. Sid remembered other chopper flights when he had carried a rifle and a bulky rucksack. A few of them had proven near disasters. Not wanting a repeat of that scenario, he mentally reviewed the plans for this mission, looking for any holes that might cause a problem.
The Good, The Bad and The Murderous (Sid Chance Myseries Book 2) Page 20
