“Do something!” she screamed, still several feet from Danny, who stood with his car door open, weighing his options.
There was, of course, the guns blazing approach. But he wasn’t sure if Lisa had her piece with her and a two on one gun battle with a couple of feds didn’t seem like a firefight he wanted to wage. Negotiation was definitely out of the question. How do you negotiate with robots? Barely 5’9”, Danny was all too aware of the unlikelihood that the much taller Agent Beene would find him intimidating. Still, it was his best shot, at least of stalling them.
“Lisa, get on the horn to the Captain. Explain the situation to him. Then get Chuck Gaines and find out what he’s got for me. I’m gonna have a couple of feds for lunch.”
Stalking over to her, Danny decided to go for Agent Kim first. He knew that female feds had the reputation of being particularly hard, feeling as if they had more to prove than their male counterparts. He’d be better served, he thought, by attacking the seemingly strongest point and wearing her down first. He only hoped he could find a chink in her armor somewhere.
“What in the world do you idiots think you’re doing?”
“Our job,” Agent Kim said, dismissively. “Something you should have done a long time ago. We’ve got an arrest warrant for Scott Bryan for murders in Tennessee, Arkansas, Kansas, Oklahoma, Louisiana and Texas, just to name a few states.”
“That’s impossible! What charges?” Danny said.
“You opened the can of worms, Detective. We just connected the dots you couldn’t.”
Danny was seething – so angry he had not even noticed Alex rolling up beside him.
“I’m Lieutenant Alex Mendez. And you are?”
“Agent Kim. FBI.”
“And your partner back there?” Alex said, pointing toward Agent Beene, who was still struggling to manipulate the wheelchair into the trunk.
“The brainiac who seems to have been outwitted by that hunk of metal.”
“Agent Beene. Now will you kindly step aside”?
“If you haven’t noticed, Lady,” Alex began, “I’m in a wheelchair. Which means I won’t be stepping anywhere. But if you think I’m just going to roll out of the way and let you wannabe cops screw up this investigation you are sadly mistaken.”
“And you’re going to stop us how?”
“We could just stand out here arguing all day,” Alex said. “Heck I’m not the one standing, so I’m plenty comfortable.”
“I don’t have time for this. Step aside or I will have your badge.”
“Well, okay,” he said, pointing to the front driver’s side tire. “But, I don’t really think I have to do anything to stop you. It’s going to be pretty difficult to drive on a busted tire.”
“What the—”
She stalked around Alex. To her surprise, the tire was completely flat. Not sliced. Not punctured, it didn’t appear, just deflated. Mere seconds. A minute or two at most. Hardly any time had lapsed, Danny thought, but it was enough.
“Might wanna check the passenger side too,” Alex chuckled. “I think I noticed it a little low as I was stepping up.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?” Danny whispered, just loud enough so that Agent Kim and Alex both heard him. When Agent Kim’s glare iced Danny down, he simply batted his lashes, grinned sarcastically and walked back toward Lisa, whistling innocently, between muffled chuckles. “How’d you do that?” Danny asked.
Looking toward Mike, Alex simply winked and said “Plausible deniability, Danny. What you don’t know can’t hurt me,” he smiled at Lisa. Looking back toward the Fedmobile, Danny couldn’t help but be entertained by the look of sheer horror on the face of Agent Beene, who had finally managed to wrestle the wheelchair into the trunk, only to find himself feeling grossly inadequate for the task of fixing two flat tires. Danny could just see the words “Now what?” written on his face.
Turning his attention toward the crowd, Danny was struck by a sudden urge to play cop again. The crowd needed to be dispersed for its own safety, if nothing else.
Calling Lisa and Alex into a mini huddle, Danny said, “Okay look. I need some crowd control here. Alex, do you think you and Mike can get the folks back into the building while Lisa and I take care of Witch Cassidy and the Suntanned Kid?”
“Sure thing,” Alex said, “But what are you going to do?”
“You’ve already done it for me, Alex,” Danny said, “You stalled them. Lisa, what’d the Captain say?”
“What could he say? He said that, on the Chief’s orders, we were to cooperate with the agents, and aid them in any way possible.”
“That gives me an idea,” he said, grinning.
“Danny,” Lisa answered.
“I am not fixing their tires,” he laughed, “Alex has already taken care of that one.” A mixture of sarcasm and innocence, Danny finished, “As for me, I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout fixin’ no tire. What’d Chuck find out, Lisa?”
“All he could say is that Dave Collins apparently had a brother or something named Gene. He said he’s investigating the connection but, same last name, so it’s obviously a relative.”
“Is that what you needed to hear, Lisa?”
“It connects a dot, sort of. ”
“So why kill Dave Collins?”
“Search me,” Lisa said. “Didn’t want him to carry on the family business? Whatever that might be.”
“Gene Collins’ death was ruled a suicide,” Alex interrupted. “How can it connect to this situation?”
“Could be personal, somehow. Maybe Gene stopped the guy from killing somebody and the killer decided to take his revenge by killing Gene’s brother.”
“Okay look,” Danny said, “We’ll have to play ‘Guess The Motive’ later. Right now we’ve got bigger fish to fry.”
* * *
The feds had no choice but to allow Danny to help them escort Scott Bryan back to the Longview Police Department. They read him his rights on the way to the station, searched him, and rolled him into the station, cuffed to his wheelchair armrests like a condemned psychopathic cannibal being restrained in the presence of a potential human buffet table. Even Danny had to admit it was excessive. In the last few minutes, he’d become somewhat of a champion for the child. The feds were not allowing Scott to phone his mother, so Danny ordered one of the uniforms to do it, quietly. He could only hope Lindsey Bryan got there soon, if for no other reason than to buy him some time to find a way to keep Scott in the custody of Longview’s finest. Danny refused to leave during the questioning and, after every question the feds fired at Scott, Danny would intercede with “You don’t have to answer that,” or “He takes the fifth.”
Considering his lack of training in legal maneuvering, Danny had to admit being quite proud of how he was handling the situation. Thirty minutes later, and no sign of Lindsey Bryan, Danny began to worry just a little. Maybe it was just the lights, but Scott appeared changed somehow. His whole being seemed darker. Bags appeared under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept in days. His face was bloodless, his complexion pale, but mildly ashen. He was sweating so profusely that his hair had begun to darken under the perspiration. Still, he sat silently, unable to get a word in, between the endless firing of questions from the feds and the professional answer dodging done by Super Law Dog, Danny Peterson.
In a moment of frustration, Agent Beene slammed his fist down on the table, throwing himself eye to eye with a quivering Scott Bryan.
“Answer me!” he demanded, compelling Danny to grab the worm by his tailored white shirt and force him into the two-way mirror. Danny wondered, though only for a microsecond, if anyone was observing. When no one interrupted his defense of Scott Bryan, Danny guessed he had his answer.
“Now you listen here, you bum. Maybe abusing children is how you do things back in Washington, but out here in Podunk, us Hillbillies tend to treat our young’n’s with a little more respect than that,” feigning an accent that would make Chuck Gaines sound like “City Folk.”
> “Get your filthy hands off me, or else,” Agent Beene growled.
“Or else what?” Danny asked, raging. “I’d be more than happy to take this outside.” He turned toward Agent Kim. “I don’t hit women, but I’m sure there is no shortage of willing tag team partners in the lobby if you’d like to join us.”
“Leave.” When Danny heard Scott Bryan’s voice, it took him a second to realize that his request was, in fact, not a request. It had been an order. A suggestion. A warning. One word with the power to render an entire room full of trained law enforcement agents standing in stunned silence.
“Scott,” Danny said, finally releasing Agent Beene. “I’m not going to leave you alone with—”
The blow from the back came so unexpectedly that Danny had no time to steady himself. He tried to catch himself on the table, but his arms were trapped. A sharp pain immediately seized his neck. Falling to the floor, Danny’s head slammed into the leg of one of the wooden chairs. Instantly, he felt blood begin to trickle from a gash that had formed above his left eye. Before he could respond, he felt his back and shoulder being repeatedly slammed by a ham hock of a fist. He flipped himself over just enough to see the blood red snarling face of Agent Beene clearly enough to slam an elbow flush into his jaw, moments before Danny’s own eye was pummeled by a tightly clinched fist. Danny tried to scream for help but he could not get enough air into his lungs, which were weighed down by Agent Beene’s sharp knee. His arms finally free, Danny struggled to fend off a blow with his right arm while swinging wildly with his left palm just under Agent Beene’s chin. As the man fell backwards, obviously stunned by Danny’s blow, Danny felt a sharp pain in his temple. A shoe. A woman’s shoe. A foot. Agent Kim was kicking Danny in the head repeatedly, screaming in a foreign language Danny guessed was her native tongue. The entire room seemed to be shaking. Beside his head, the chair legs began to rattle. It seemed they shook with his heartbeat, or was it with every kick of Agent Kim’s shoe?
A slight hissing noise filled the room, just as Danny’s vision begin to fog behind a mass of tears, blood and sweat. A scream. A shrill scream. Agent Kim. Danny blinked rapidly but his vision wouldn’t improve. Dancing lights, swimming behind an ocean of cloudy pain, played with Danny’s mind. Toyed with his senses. What looked like fireflies one moment, gave Danny the sensation of being in a discothèque the next. A crashing sound. Exploding glass. The mirror? Another scream. Gunshots! More explosions. Glass? He couldn’t be sure. Mind. Cloudy. Can’t focus. Growling, like no animal Danny had ever heard. Not like a lion’s roar. Not the call of an angry bear or a frightened dog. But definitely a growling. There was no other word for it. Pain shot through his body. His back ached. His temples throbbed, seemingly matching rhythm with the pulsing lights. The sharp pain in his neck had now given way to the dull, but intense aching of being thrown suddenly in one direction with the neck thrown in the other. He’d never had whiplash that he could recall, but he was pretty sure this was what it felt like. He felt a breeze on his face, as if somebody were breathing softly on his cheek. It was a welcome subtlety to the pain cocktail that was ravaging his body. He heard the words mere moments before losing consciousness. Heard them, but did not understand them. Did not register them. Heard them but did not digest them. Not until the world of sleep welcomed him.
Death must come.
* * *
The first face Danny saw clearly was Chuck Gaines.
“Lay still,” he said, in his country boy twang which, despite the circumstances, was quite soothing.
Beene!
When Danny thought of the sucker punch, the kicks to the head by Agent Kim, the sounds of wood breaking, screaming metal and shattering glass, his heart rate skyrocketed. His mind flashed hot with anger and, though riddled with pain, he sat upright with a quick singular jerk. Looking around, Danny realized he wasn’t in the interrogation room any longer. Rather, he was in the break room, lying on the couch.
“Scott,” Danny mumbled, realizing his lip was sore and swollen. “Scott Bryan.”
“Just lay back Danny,” came another voice, which Danny failed to recognize. A paramedic, Danny realized, that was busy working on his injuries.
Weak, Danny shoved at the paramedic’s hands. “Where’s Scott Bryan?” He demanded. “Where’s Agent Beene? I’ve got a little something to say to that sucker-punching son of a—.”
“Just relax a second, Boss,” Chuck offered, motioning for Danny to lie back down.
“Now!” Danny screamed. Even he was startled by the gravel in his voice. His jaw hurt. His shoulder throbbed.
Danny no doubt had gotten thrashed. At least it took a sucker punch and two angry feds to do it, he thought. He almost smiled, thinking about the one-punch knockout he’d gotten on Agent Beene. Almost smiled.
“He’s gone, Boss,” Chuck whispered, his voice a mixture of fear and shame.
“Gone?” Danny screamed. He cursed repeatedly, growled and punched the air. “What do you mean he’s gone? Where did he go?”
“We don’t know yet, Boss. We’ve got every man we can spare out looking for him. His mother was here, but she’s out looking for him too.”
“His mother?” Danny sighed. “I’ve got to go.”
He tried to stand. His head swam horribly and his legs turned to jelly. His vision, which had been virtually clear from the moment he awoke, began to flicker, much like an inner light bulb in his head that was threatening to go out. Had Chuck Gaines not been standing nearby, Danny’s backside would have found floor instead of couch. Holding his face in his palms, Danny rubbed his throbbing temple, trying to steady his swimming eyesight. A sharp pain coursed through his head and neck, causing him to wince. Danny always found the nervous system confusing. Even now, amid all the pain, dizziness and sudden rush of blood, Danny wondered how massaging his temples would send a lightning bolt of pain firing down his right leg.
“You’ve got some nasty cuts, bumps and bruises, Danny,” said the paramedic.
“Look, my friends call me Danny. My fellow cops call me Lieutenant. Since you’re neither, can you just call me Mr. Peterson?”
“Certainly, Mr. Peterson,” whispered the properly chastised paramedic. “I had asked your associates what your name was. They told me it was Danny. I’ve been trying to wake you for some time.”
“For some time?” Danny asked. “How long was I out?”
“Couple hours, Boss,” Chuck Gaines said. “Three maybe.”
Attempting to stand again, Danny’s vision swam even more violently. Fighting to stay erect, Danny lost his balance and fell into Chuck Gaines grasp.
“If this makes it out of this room, Chuck I swear I will be feeding you your badge rectally. Got it?”
“Sit down for a second, Boss,” Chuck said. “There’s some things you’re gonna wanna know about.”
“Only thing I want to know about is how the heck a police station full of armed policemen couldn’t stop a boy in a wheelchair from rolling his happy little self right out the front door.”
“Sir, I don’t know if this will explain anything, but we found it folded up next to you.” Chuck Gaines handed Danny a small piece of paper, folded twice. Danny unfolded it and read the simple message.
The end is not yet.
“Get me Agents Beene and Kim,” Danny said. “I want some answers.”
“I don’t think they’ll be answering any questions any time soon, Boss.” Chuck Gaines said, nervously.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Where are they?” Danny demanded. “Dagblasted, Chuck. What’s going on?”
“They’re dead, Boss. The both of ‘em.”
“What do you mean they’re dead?”
“Scott Bryan,” Chuck said, still nervous. “He killed ‘em both, left you for dead and walked right out the front door. Walked! At least four cops fired shots at him. I fired two myself. I had him dead in my sights, Boss. And he kept on walkin’ like it was nothin’.”
“Want to explain how he suddenly got a miracl
e healing from life in a wheelchair and somehow managed to develop a bullet proof skin along with it?”
Chuck Gaines just shrugged.
“Find out,” Danny ordered him. “I’m going to be on the road.”
He stood. His head swam again, though not nearly as bad. He fought to keep his balance, steadied himself on Chuck Gaines’ shoulder and slowly limped out toward the parking lot. It was a long walk. One made even longer by a sore knee, a throbbing shoulder and an eye that felt like tiny nails were being driven into it. He noticed cuts on his arms and hands and guessed that it was from splinters of glass or wood that, mercifully, had been removed while he slept.
As he neared the exit to Police Headquarters, he noticed the sun had already gone down.
“How freakin’ long was I out?” he mumbled to himself. Checking his watch in the dim light of the lobby, he read 8:37. He cursed.
A winter wind had settled in on the night. It was unbelievably cold. And Danny’s bandages provided little in the way of warmth. He regretted not having worn his jacket this morning. Shivering, he hugged himself and pulled the car keys out of his back pocket. Cranking his car, he threw on the heat, sending a blast of cold air firing from the vents. He gasped, caught off guard by the shocking cold. It would take a few minutes for the car to warm up. Maybe by the time he got to Alex and Lisa’s house it would be warmer. In the meantime, he’d have to survive on adrenaline and rage.
Part IV
Chapter 22 ~
“And that was really all we talked about,” Alex told Lisa. He’d been going over everything Scott Bryan had said while Lisa had been on the phone, before all the heck had broken loose with the feds.
“So he swears he doesn’t know anything about the night his friends died, and he can’t explain his father’s death, even though he was the only one in the house. That’s just too convenient for me.”
“I had the same thought,” Alex admitted. “But you are forgetting one factor.”
Mendez Genesis Page 36
