by Tony Peluso
“That’s pretty bold of these guys,” I said. “I’ve never encountered anything quite so daring.”
“Neither had we,” Bennett said. “Nor had we seen the escalation to this level of violence. We haven’t identified all of the dead guys yet, but the four we’ve made were all violent felons.”
“That makes their possession of weapons in furtherance of drug operations serious separate felonies,” I said.
“We don’t dispute that, Tony. We expect that the rest of those guys will have violent criminal records too,” Ledger said.
“How does that play out?” I asked.
“We’re concerned that this distribution point, the kind of men working it, and other evidence we’ve uncovered demonstrates an effort to export the drug violence south of our border to the American Southwest by a dangerous cult,” Ledger said.
“Does that explain why the killers were so well armed and so violent?” I asked.
“Sort of.” Chuck Hudson said. “It explains the Kalashnikovs, body armor, and tracking dog. But there’s more here.”
“More than violent drug dealers trying to import massive violence into your community?” I asked.
“Maybe,” Hudson said. “In parts of South and Central America, where the violence has been the worst, a cult has arisen among the folks who cannot see an end to the danger and fear that their lives will be cut short. They call their cult Santo Diablo. It means Saint Devil.”
“What bearing does that have on the men we shot?” I asked.
“Three of the men you killed had tattoos of Santo Diablo,” Hudson said. “We found several icons and figurines of the cult figure at the drug emporium in the woods.”
“I’ve heard of these guys. As I recall, the Catholic Church has outlawed this cult. No other Christian sect recognizes it,” I said.
“I think that’s correct,” Mary Smith said. “We don’t know exactly how all of this shakes out. We do know that you and your pals knocked over a hornet’s nest and now you’re in grave danger.”
The state prosecutor’s use of the term hornet’s nest startled me. It’s the same phrase that Dan Ostergaard used when he warned Claire 15 years earlier.
“How do you figure that this cult impacts on Fleet’s murder?” I asked.
“The Cult of Santo Diablo celebrates homicide. Its beliefs are based on ancient myths and legends that claim that their patron suffered a stinging defeat from Michael the Archangel. The Santo Diablo followers call themselves the fallen angels,” Smith said.
“Here’s a picture of the tattoo on one of the guys you and your pal whacked,” Hudson said as he slid a photograph across the table.
I picked up the photo and examined the tattoo. The figure stunned me. It was an exact replica of a petroglyph that I saw at Schnebly Tank. It was not the Christus, but it was definitely identical to a different figure carved on that rock face.
I recalled Don Hansen’s explanation that inter-dimensional beings comprise different species and races from different universes. The implications frightened me. Eddie, Father Pat, and I had gotten caught up in the ancient war between angels and the demons. Maybe the entire drug war fiasco was a battlefield of that war.
I kept this revelation to myself. I didn’t want to give Ledger and Smith another reason to hold me.
“I’m starting to understand. You’re worried that the Santo Diablo cult has infiltrated Coconino County and poses the triple threat of illegal arms, contraband drugs, and wholesale violence,” I said. “What do you want with me?”
“Tony, nobody will charge you with a criminal offense. All of the evidence supports self-defense. We’ll need you as a material witness as we go after the rest of the Santo Diablo conspirators. The case gets complicated. We believe that the Diablos didn’t kill Fleet to protect the drug operation,” Ledger said.
“Huh?”
“We found a cell phone on the guy whose head you blew off. It was a throw down, but it had text traffic. He’s Stevie Lindstrom. Had a record as long as your arm. He realized that it was Fleet guiding you. He texted someone with an untraceable phone who confirmed that Fleet was in the woods with some clients,” Craig Scott explained.
“So the bad guys knew it was Fleet when they shot him?” I asked.
“That’s about the size of it,” Mary said. “The local dealers have wanted to take him out since he capped two of their buddies, possible Diablos, a couple of years ago.”
“It’ll take a lot more investigation, but we think the person who provided the information knew Fleet. The texts occurred after you guys ran into Stevie in the woods.”
“So where does that leave me?” I asked.
“As I explained, you’re a material witness in grave danger. If you cooperate, we’ll let you stay with Mr. Grimes at his home. Mr. Grimes suggested it. The DEA, Yavapai Sheriff, and Sedona Police will help with your security. You’ll have to stay in Arizona for a while.”
“If I don’t cooperate because I want to go home to Florida?”
“I have a material witness warrant. The Magistrate Judge has already approved it. We’ll apprehend you here and take you to the Magistrate for a hearing. He can release you with the conditions that I suggest, or send you to Phoenix where we’ll protect you in the Federal lockup. You know how this shit works, Tony. So why don’t you cooperate?”
“What about my credentials, IDs, credit cards, guns, knives, and so forth?”
“We’re keeping all the firearms and that fancy K-bar. They’re evidence. You can have your other personal stuff,” Detective Scott replied.
“What about my wife and sons?”
“The U.S. Marshals will provide security for your wife, since she’s an AUSA. They’ll assign teams to both of your sons and their families.”
“What are the conditions of release? Is this like a house arrest?”
“Not quite. You can move around Sedona, but you can’t do it unless two state or federal law enforcement officers accompany you. If you behave yourself and don’t cause the deputies any trouble, we’ll let you go home as soon as it’s safe to do so,” Mary Smith said.
“Agreed,” I said.
“By behaving, we mean that you engage in no investigation on your own.”
“Of course,” I said.
“Tony, this includes this Christus thing. Put it on hold,” Ledger directed.
“Who told you about that?”
“Father O’Malley. Your pal, Eddie, wouldn’t discuss it. He claims that you’re his lawyer and he won’t discuss that issue without you,” Hudson said.
“Why do you care about the Christus mystery?” I asked.
“I don’t have much evidence to support this yet, but from the phone texts it appears that whoever told Stevie about Fleet knew about your personal quest. If they’re part of the Santo Diablo cult, they wanted to make sure that you failed,” Craig Scott said.
“Why do you think that?”
“The content of the texts, which is investigation confidential. Right now our best information is that a handful of people knew that Fleet was headed to Schnebly Tank. Three quarters of those folks were you, Grimes, and the priest. We have one good suspect, who happened to be in Sedona at the time. He claims to have an airtight alibi.”
“Don Hansen. Right?”
“Bingo!” Ledger agreed.
The ride from Flagstaff down to West Sedona was surreal. It took 40 minutes. Unlike the trip from Williams, I wasn’t handcuffed. I got to sit in the front seat of the four-wheeler. The deputy was a handsome white male, mid-thirties, and a seven-year veteran of CSO. He’d also been a Marine sergeant who did a tour in Afghanistan and one in Iraq. He treated me with respect, as you would expect from a kindred spirit.
“You doing all right, Mr. Giordano?” He asked about five minutes into the trip.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“This shit up at Schnebly Tank wasn’t your first rodeo, was it? We heard that you were a Paratroo
per? Been in law enforcement too, right?”
“Right and right,” I said.
“I saw what you and Grimes did near White Horse Lake. Good work, Mr. Giordano.”
“Call me Tony, please.”
“OK, Tony. I’m Randy Stone.”
“Thanks for the ride to Sedona, Randy.”
“No problem. It’s my zone of patrol anyway. You’ll be staying right outside my jurisdiction. If you need anything, I can get over there quick. The Yavapai deputies are first rate. I know them. They’re briefed on this dirty business. They’ll take good care of you.”
“Did you know Fleet?” I asked.
“Yeah. He was a pal. I wish I had been with you and Grimes,” Randy said.
As I watched Randy’s jaw clenching, I had no doubt that he meant every word.
“I knew him for less than a day, but I liked Dave.”
“Tony, I saw a lot of shit at Fallujah, if you need to talk.”
“Thanks, bud.”
“The PTSD can be a mother fucker. It slips up on you when you least expect it.”
“Drink beer?” I asked him, as we started down Oak Creek Canyon.
“Been known to hoist a few.”
“When you’re off duty, come over to Eddie’s. We’ll swap tall tales.”
“Wouldn’t miss it, brother,” Randy said, paying me the ultimate compliment.
“Gotta be careful drinking with these meds, though,” I said.
“True,” Randy said. “You do a lot of drug cases as a fed?”
“A dozen or so. When I was an AUSA, I did organized crime, violent crime, and fraud. My wife is the drug prosecutor.”
“We’re losing the drug war, Tony.”
“We seem to be.”
“There’s a rumor that you saw aliens at the chapel in Sedona,” Randy said.
“Wrong. When I was a kid in college, a buddy of mine and I were drinking at the chapel. We saw lights. It could have been an aircraft of some kind. That’s all. I never saw any little green men.”
“Detective Scott says you’re a good man,” Randy continued, as he mulled something over in his mind.
“Glad he thinks so. My fate is in his hands.”
“He says the deputies in Florida think you’re a stand-up guy. You can be trusted.”
“Glad to know that, Randy. Where’s this going?”
“If I tell you something, do I have attorney/client?”
“Probably not. I don’t have an Arizona law license.”
“Can you keep a secret, anyway?”
“Depends. If you tell me that you killed someone or committed a crime, I’d be duty bound to report it. I represent a Sheriff after all.”
“Craig Scott said you’d take that position. It proves that you’re honest.”
“Thanks.”
“I didn’t kill anyone. At least, no one since Afghanistan.”
“Good.”
“I have seen an alien, though. But I don’t want anyone to know. I love this job. I don’t want anyone to question my sanity.”
“Randy, I’m the last guy who can criticize you. If you want to talk about it, your secret is safe with me.”
“It wasn’t a little green man.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Two years ago, I was coming down Schnebly Road above Marg’s Draw late at night. It was overcast, no moon or stars. It was real dark, except for the lights from Sedona. I stopped to take a leak. I turned out the lights on the vehicle and walked over to the edge of the road. When I finished, I turned around and standing next to my four by four was an alien being. It stood at least eight feet tall. It was very thin. It had long arms and legs. I’d never seen anything quite like it.”
“How’d you react?”
“I wasn’t scared. I didn’t even think to draw my weapon. I stared at it for at least a full minute, maybe longer.”
“What did you hear, smell, and feel?” I asked.
“I heard nothing. I smelled the juniper and pine, nothing else. I felt calm but a little apprehensive,” Randy said.
“What happened?”
“Nothing, other than the alien turned to the right and walked up the road into the dark. I watched as it faded from sight, like ten seconds later.”
“Borrow your cell phone?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said, handing his Smartphone to me.
I pulled up the Internet, and brought up the McMannes’ article with a picture of the Christus.
“Did it look like this?” I asked, showing him the photo from the article.
“Holy shit. Dead fucking ringer,” Randy claimed, as he took the phone.
“Have you ever seen strange lights in the sky here?” I asked.
“In the last two years, I’ve seen unexplained craft in the sky at least five times.”
“Ever report it?” I asked.
“Did you?” He asked back.
“No.”
“Other than to Detective Scott, same,” Randy said.
“Detective Scott knows about your encounter?”
“Yeah. We hunt together. I told him when we were deer hunting near Payson. He’s the one who suggested that I tell you.”
“When you first told Scott, what did he say?”
“He said that the Sheriff would think I was crazy. He’d claim that I’d run into Bigfoot or something. I’d be the target of derision.”
“Was the Schnebly Road incident the only time you saw an alien?”
“Once is enough. Right?”
By this time, we’d reached Eddie’s house. A Yavapai County four-wheeler sat on the road. A Sedona Police patrol car blocked the driveway. The police officer waved at Randy, gave a thumbs-up sign, and pulled his car up to allow us to drive to the house.
I noticed a black Ford Edge in the driveway. It had California plates.
Randy helped me with the equipment. I was still wobbly from the meds. I walked up the door and rang the bell. When the door swung open, Eddie’s daughter, Yvette, greeted me. If anything, she was more beautiful than I remembered. She no longer had a nose ring.
“Yvette, good to see you.”
“Tony, come in. You too, officer,” Yvette said, gesturing with her right arm.
“Where’s Eddie?”
“I made Poppa go to bed. He’s been waiting to talk to you. He’s been worried about you. He was exhausted. I told him that I’d wake him once you got here.”
“I’m pretty tired too. Let him sleep awhile. Maybe I’ll crash for a bit.”
“Better call your wife first,” Yvette directed. “She’s worried.”
“OK. They kept my cell as evidence. Does Eddie have a house phone?”
“No. He thinks they’re a waste. You can use my cell. I’ll find it as soon as I get you settled. Officer, is there anything I can do for you?” Yvette asked, as she turned to Randy.
Randy stared at Yvette. He looked a little like a puppy that’d been called by his mistress. He was captivated by Yvette’s striking beauty. She must get that a lot from men.
I had to check. He wore no ring on his left hand.
“Hello, deputy,” Yvette repeated, but she had a knowing smile on her pretty face.
“Oh, sorry, Ma’am. No, I’m fine. I’ll be going. But here’s my card. If you need anything, call. I’ll be back after I’m off duty. Tony and I have a beer to drink and a discussion to continue,” Randy said, but his primary motive for the visit had changed.
Randy and I shook hands and he took his leave. I went back to my room, grabbed a shower, changed clothes, and walked back into Eddie’s great room. Yvette was on the phone. When she saw me, she walked over to me and handed me her cell.
“It’s Gretchen,” Yvette said.
I took the phone and put it to my ear.
“Hey, Gretch.”
“Yvette says that you have two little black eyes and the bandages make you look like a raccoon. Somebody beat the snot o
ut of you.”
“The other guy fared worse.”
“Apparently, since he’s dead. Yvette says you’re not so distinguished looking at the moment.”
“Damn. That means that I won’t be able to put the moves on her until I recover my good looks,” I said, as I smiled at Yvette, who shook her head and sighed.
“Tell her she can have you. You never listen. I told you not to brawl.”
“I did follow your other advice.”
“What advice was that?”
“Quintuple tap.”
“I believe I said double-tap,” Gretchen corrected.
“Sorry, babe, I misunderstood. Don’t fret. I’ll buy you new bullets.”
“Tony, I was so worried about you,” Gretchen began, weeping at the other end of the conversation. “I wanted to leave today, but I’m scheduled to start a trial on Monday. Since you’re in no immediate danger, Judge Livingston wouldn’t continue it over the fucking defense counsel’s objection. I’ll be out there later in the week after I kick the defendant’s ass.”
“It’s OK. I’d like a couple of days to convalesce anyway. I’ll look a lot better by the end of the week.”
“Listen, Tony. The Tampa news is all over this. I’ve been getting calls. I’m not allowed to discuss the case. Look out. When they find out where you are, they’ll swarm over you and your pal, Eddie.”
“Hold on, Gretch,” I said, turning to Yvette. “What’s the local news on this?”
“It’s big in Phoenix. CSO and the feds haven’t released your names. But it’s a matter of time. Some neighbor will put two and two together when they figure out the police cars. After that, the media will be camped outside. Enjoy the calm before the storm.”
I comforted Gretchen and we spoke for another few minutes. Then, I begged off, claiming that I needed to get a little sleep.
After I ended the call, I got a beer. I walked back to the bedroom. I lay down on the bed on top of the covers and took a big sip. I closed my eyes and fell into the deepest sleep in 20 years. I woke up 12 hours later on a bright Sunday morning.
