by Aimée Thurlo
“Maybe it was one of the men at the warehouse not tied to the Night Crew? The mechanic?” Charlie suggested.
“At least the way it turned out, whoever tried to help out Al won’t end up in the bull’s-eye. It’ll just be you and me—again.”
Charlie nodded. “We can’t put Ruth and Jake in any more danger, though. We need to stay in business—and look after our people.”
“Okay, then how about you take care of your brother—get him to a safe place, and I’ll take care of our quarters and FOB until he’s tucked away?” Gordon offered. “We’ve also got three broken windows to deal with.”
“So, I’ll split with Al in your truck and you’ll take care of the rest? You’ve got a key to my house.”
“Okay.” Gordon looked at his watch. “Nancy should be getting off her shift pretty soon. I think she’d give me a ride to your place.”
“If not, you can take a cab,” Charlie said, grinning.
“You know how far that is? I’ll need to take out a loan. I’ll call Nancy right now.”
* * *
It was nearly two in the morning when Charlie took one last look at Al, who was asleep in the master bedroom of the upscale town house, then stepped outside onto the covered porch. The safe house in a gated compound had once belonged to a district attorney, now deceased, who’d willed his home to the city. The residence was set aside for visiting dignitaries and celebrities who needed security and anonymity.
The guards at the gate were retired APD officers, as was the private security firm responsible for this high-end housing development. Most of the residents were retired physicians, attorneys, and other businessmen and officials, including senior administrators from the big government-funded labs. Al had been impressed, though he knew he’d soon be returning to the Navajo Nation.
DuPree’s captain had called ahead, clearing the way for Charlie and Al, who’d been eyed suspiciously by gate security nevertheless.
When he stopped at the gate on the way out, he had to wait for a quick once-over of the interior of the big pickup and the bed. After years of roadblocks and security outposts, he never gave it a second thought.
When Charlie arrived home he was happy to see the sheet of plywood over his garage window. He parked Gordon’s pickup up close to the overhead door and climbed out, locking the truck with the key fob.
Once inside, Charlie checked on his car first, noting that the floor had been swept free of glass. In the bedroom, Gordon had duct taped heavy cardboard over the hole left by the broken pane and swept and vacuumed the carpet. He and Gordon had learned how to clean expertly and quickly as they’d advanced in rank in the Army, and Gordon was obsessive when it came to cleanliness.
The bed was unmade now, but Gordon had set out clean sheets, pillowcases, and two blankets, leaving them folded on the bare mattress. The bedspread—Charlie had only one—was probably in the hamper in the utility room.
Thinking he’d gotten the easier job getting Al hidden away, Charlie quickly made the bed and crawled in, hoping, at least for the rest of the night, he wasn’t going to find any more bodies or bricks in his house. Reaching under the other pillow and feeling the cold comfort of his Beretta, he patted it good night and fell asleep almost immediately.
* * *
Charlie and Gordon arrived at FOB Pawn just as Jake and Ruth were bringing out the cash register trays from the office safe. It was ten minutes before the eight AM opening time posted on the front door and they were all in a bit of a hurry.
“Looks like even our bosses are on time this morning,” Jake said to Ruth, who’d come out into the short hall just ahead of him.
“Hi, guys,” Ruth said, turning to give them a smile before heading out into the display area. Gordon nodded, then turned to lock the heavy back door.
“Morning, Ruth, Jake,” Charlie said cheerfully, walking behind them. “We were able to get our transportation straight again and arrange to have our respective windows replaced. Hopefully, everything will be back to normal for a while.”
“There’s always something weird going on with you two,” Ruth said, stepping aside as Jake went behind the counter and headed toward the cash register closest to the entrance.
“You’re smiling instead of grumbling this time, boss, so they must have trashed something besides your car,” Jake concluded. “Maybe just a raging fire in the kitchen, or all your furniture ripped to shreds?”
Everyone laughed, knowing how Charlie loved the Charger. Gordon continued on toward the front entrance. He stopped at the door to take a look out through the small window.
“It all started with a brick. Well, three bricks,” Gordon replied. “Tell them about the miracle in the garage, boss,” he added, nodding to Charlie.
Charlie was brief, cutting out most of the warehouse incident. He also omitted mentioning Al’s current situation except that he’d been barely shot.
“How does someone get barely shot?” Ruth asked just as the first customer walked inside, ringing the bell attached above the door. The middle-aged woman, wearing a pink UNM Lobos ball cap, looked over at Ruth, then quickly around the room. “Shot?”
“We’re talking TV, Mrs. Radcliffe,” Ruth added with a beautiful smile. “Did you happen to watch Grimm last night?”
Mrs. Radcliffe was one of their regulars, and she’d been bringing in pieces of estate jewelry to sell or pawn every week since the death of her mother-in-law. She shook her head sadly. “No, all those strange creatures were giving me nightmares so I changed channels. I’m watching Survivor now. This season it’s between those former contestants from California who got voted off early.”
“Sounds entertaining,” Ruth replied. “So what treasure do you have to show me this morning?”
* * *
A few minutes before ten, Nancy came into the shop a few steps ahead of Detective DuPree. Gordon was writing up a ticket for a young man pawning an old-looking shotgun, so Charlie, who’d been patching a newly discovered bullet hole, walked over to greet the two officers.
“Good morning, Sergeant, Detective,” Charlie said, carrying the bucket that contained the repair tools and supplies.
“Hello, Charlie,” Nancy said, eyeing DuPree with raised eyebrows before giving Charlie a look. What about, he had no idea.
“Henry, Sweeney, we need to talk in private,” DuPree announced.
“I’ll finish up, Gordon,” said Jake, who was coming up the aisle toward the front after taking a coffee break.
“Thanks, Jake, but we’re almost done here. All we need is your signature, sir,” Gordon said to the customer. “Here and here. Be right with you, officers,” Gordon added, smiling at Nancy as she approached.
The young man, temporarily distracted by the tall, attractive woman, turned back abruptly to Gordon. “Uh, sorry. Sign where?”
“Follow me,” Charlie said to DuPree, nodding toward the office.
A minute later, Gordon joined the others. Ruth, who’d been working in the back, left the office to help Jake out front.
“Hey, guys, what’s going on?” Gordon asked immediately.
“Alfred Henry is now staying at your sister’s place in Corrales,” DuPree announced.
“The mayor overruled APD. He decided Al wasn’t important enough to stay at a city government guesthouse,” Nancy added cynically.
“Politics,” Gordon offered.
“Let me clarify that,” DuPree interrupted. “The residence had already been set aside for presidential hopeful Senator Doull, who’s scheduled to be here for the dedication of the Executive Convention Center.”
“Which doesn’t take place for two weeks,” Nancy added.
“Politics,” Charlie responded.
DuPree shrugged. “If it matters, tribal police officer Henry said he’d be happier staying with his sister than among the one percent. Reverse snobbery, maybe?”
Charlie cut in. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. Jayne’s live-in boyfriend, Rand Brewer, is a loser and maybe a druggie.
Sometimes I worry about her safety. We don’t talk much and I’ve only been over to her place a couple of times. Brewer hangs out with some rough-looking people.”
“What does the guy do for a living?” Nancy asked.
“Supposedly he buys stuff then resells it online,” Charlie replied.
“You mean, like stolen stuff?” Gordon got right to the point.
“Probably shoplifted sports jerseys, jackets, and caps, for instance,” Charlie replied. “Jayne defends him, though, and she’s pissed off with me because I asked too many questions last time I was there.”
“The important thing is, will Al be safe in Corrales with her until he’s fit enough to go back to the Navajo Nation?” DuPree asked.
“That depends. Is he getting protection from APD or the sheriff’s department?” Charlie asked.
DuPree shook his head. “No, just increased patrols by the state police and the Corrales cops. According to what I heard, Officer Henry should be able to return to desk work within a week, maybe less. He’s been pulled from his undercover assignment, naturally.”
Gordon looked over at Charlie, who shook his head. “Bad vibes on this?” Gordon asked.
“Yeah. But it is what it is. Any good news today, officers?” Charlie asked hopefully.
“The warehouse contained three missing vehicles that were taken in carjackings within the past month. One, a damaged Escalade, was being stripped, apparently by the mechanic our people arrested. The parts were still on hand, however, in boxes. They included the catalytic converter and twenty-four-inch rims and skinny tires, which sell for a bundle, I guess,” DuPree reported.
“A low-profile setup is expensive,” Gordon confirmed.
DuPree nodded. “There were also items reported to have been inside the carjacked vehicles, such as leather jackets, cell phones, tools, even a couple of antique guns—old Civil War–era revolvers. Also, there were watches, expensive purses, and stuff like that.”
“How about Indian jewelry? Any silver and turquoise pieces?” Nancy asked, looking at Charlie, who nodded.
“No jewelry at all, even though every one of the carjackings on record in the area had rings, necklaces, and other jewelry taken from the passengers. Speculation is that the gold items were melted down immediately and the other stuff sold at flea markets and such,” DuPree said.
“What evidence is there linking the Night Crew to this, especially Clarence Fasthorse?” Charlie asked DuPree.
“We know Fasthorse was at that warehouse just prior to our arrival,” Gordon pointed out.
“You saw him, then?” DuPree asked. “An eyewitness really helps the case. Al, of course, identified Fasthorse as being there, pulling the gun on him, and making the threats. Unfortunately, his story is contradicted by the mechanic and the warehouse security guard. Their story is that Al turned up, got in a fight with some other strangers in the alley, and that the fight moved into the warehouse garage. Then you two showed up, started shooting, and everyone split. They’ve stuck to their story, and Clarence has three people that say he was at some truck stop at the time.”
“Unfortunately, we never saw him face-to-face, just his vehicle as it was leaving the area. We know it was his because the license plate matched the one he rides around in,” Charlie answered. He didn’t want to reveal the bug they’d placed, which was, of course, illegal.
DuPree looked over at Gordon, who nodded, but Charlie saw Nancy rolling her eyes. She didn’t know about the bug, but Nancy was a smart cop and she knew them well.
“Neither the security guard nor the mechanic is talking much. They’ll probably continue to keep quiet. The mechanic was moonlighting from his day job at an auto shop on Central Avenue, but refuses to say who was paying him to strip the cars. The guy is otherwise clean and has already posted bail. We spoke to the owner of the warehouse, and, supposedly, it’s a legitimate facility. Most of the square footage of storage is used as a public school textbook depository, believe it or not,” DuPree said.
“And Fasthorse?” Charlie asked.
“I went to his home and confronted him,” DuPree answered. “He cooperated, even came to the station with me. When we arrived, his attorney was already there. Fasthorse denied everything, of course, and his lawyer challenged us to provide proof or let his client go. We had no choice. Until we get more than just Al’s word—he couldn’t wear a wire—we can’t make an arrest that’ll stick.”
“So what’s gonna happen now?” Gordon asked.
“My guess is that we’ve put Fasthorse out of business for the time being. He knows he’s being watched, and we have officers out looking for the others in the Night Crew that Al has identified. Unfortunately, even if we track them down, we’re still going to need more than Al’s testimony,” DuPree said.
“So we’re not much closer to identifying Cordell Buck’s killer than when this all started?” Gordon asked.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Nancy said. “I heard from Lola.”
Chapter Sixteen
All eyes shifted to her.
“Well, indirectly. A friend of hers—she wouldn’t give her name—said Lola was staying with her and that Lola wanted to meet with me,” Nancy said. “The woman said that Lola had some information regarding the necklace she pawned, why Cordell Buck was killed, and that if she could be guaranteed protection, she’d help out the police.”
“That’s great,” Charlie said, noticing from DuPree’s dropped jaw that this was the first he’d heard about this.
“When the hell did you get this call, Sergeant Medina?” DuPree erupted.
“About an hour ago. I thought I’d tell you all at once,” Nancy replied calmly.
“So when is this meeting taking place?” Gordon asked.
Nancy shook her head. “Don’t know. I’m waiting for a call back.”
“Lola’s friend. She’s an old friend of hers?” Charlie asked.
“I see where you’re going with this,” Nancy said.
“I don’t,” DuPree said. “Enlighten me.”
“What do they teach you at detective school?” Gordon asked. “If she’s an old friend, others might know of that relationship too, including Lola’s ex-boyfriend, Jerry. He might have passed that on to Clarence Fasthorse.”
“And Clarence might have someone watching the woman’s place, hoping Lola will turn up,” DuPree acknowledged. “Our officers have been watching Lola’s old apartment. No luck there.”
“The longer this nameless woman waits to call me back, the more time Clarence will have to act—if our worst-case scenario is in effect,” Nancy said.
“You get a number?” Charlie asked.
Nancy shrugged. “Yes, but it belonged to a fast-food place in the southwest part of the city. You think she’d go back there to call?”
“I can have an officer watch the restaurant, but who should they be watching for, someone who looks like Lola, or her faceless friend?” DuPree asked.
“If Lola decides to meet with you, that might be the place she’d choose, well away from the Old Town area where Fasthorse hangs out, and across the city from her old apartment,” Gordon pointed out.
“Knowing that I’d likely have the call traced?” Nancy replied.
“Probably not, then,” Charlie said. “The next call, if there is one, might come from a burner phone, made from the apartment or house where Lola is staying. Lola is smart, and will stay off the streets and out of sight.”
“When she calls, make her give you an address so you can send officers to patrol the area, for her protection. Tell her you’ll approach out of uniform and with a friend, in a private vehicle. She’ll recognize you, Sergeant Medina. You okay with that?” DuPree asked.
“You look too much like a cop, Detective,” Gordon pointed out. “What friend will be least threatening, Nancy?”
“Charlie’s Navajo, so is Lola, but then, so are Jerry, Clarence, and a few others in the Night Crew,” Nancy said. “So I’m thinking maybe the least intimidating of you guys—Gordon.”
“Good idea. Gordon’s a blue-eyed Anglo, small, charming with the ladies, and, of course, can kick ass better than most,” Charlie pointed out.
“Better than most?” Gordon joked.
“Okay, better than everyone.”
“Nobody’s that tough,” DuPree answered, shaking his head. “But Sweeney’s a good choice. He’ll likely be underestimated.”
Nancy’s phone rang just then. “Maybe we’re about to put these theories to the test, boys. Stay quiet, I’m putting this on speaker.”
“Nancy?” came a woman’s voice.
Nancy nodded. “Yes, it’s me again. Can I speak to Lola now?”
“No, she wants to meet you in person, like I said on my last call.”
“She’s doing the right thing. I can leave right now, what’s the address?”
“Go to the Circle K just west of Eldorado High School. Park there and wait for my next call, a half hour from now.”
Nancy checked her watch. “Give me more details. I want to send some officers into the area to watch for anyone who might be looking for Lola.”
A half minute went by, accompanied by whispers too faint to make out. “No, just you and one other person. No uniforms. What car will you be driving?” the woman asked.
Nancy looked over at DuPree, who shrugged.
“My green Jeep Liberty—hardtop,” Nancy answered.
“Call you again in thirty,” the woman said. “Be there.”
The call ended.
“Let’s get started then. Nancy, you have your Jeep outside right now?” Charlie asked.
Nancy nodded. “Gordon, you’re with me. You need to get something first?”
Gordon lifted his jacket to show her his Beretta. “Nope, all packed.”
DuPree made a face. “You’re with me, then, Charlie, in my vehicle. I see you’re also armed. Good.”
After a quick conversation with Jake and Ruth, the two teams set off for the convenience store, which was, according to Nancy, on Juan Tabo Avenue, the major street directly west of the big public high school in Albuquerque’s Northeast Heights. From the north valley, the drive would take at least twenty minutes or more on a weekday close to noon.
