“Think of the fallout if I had shot them in the head, which was my first preference.”
“That’s not funny, killer. You can’t believe the mindset of these higher up stooges. They want cops stopping the bad guys. Then they want to wail crocodile tears with the thug’s family, trying to get a payoff, all while making the despicable piece of shit into a Disneyland character.”
“Okay, you got me, Grace. Life isn’t fair. What’s chances of me getting back to the hotel in time for a little midnight delight?”
Grace gasped, incredulous at what Nick was hinting at. “That’s sick! Poor Rachel’s on the verge of having your baby you unfeeling wretch. You should be massaging her feet with your head down, not contemplating sexual perversion!”
After Nick enjoyed Grace’s accusations with enthusiasm, he put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. “Will you please stifle yourself? Rachel loves me, and she’s at a weird time of pregnancy for soon to be mothers, where she also loves my loving nature.”
Grace shook her head in feigned disgust. “Let’s go meet with Lieutenant Shrew before it gets any later. She towed the line for justice, and stayed on track. I came out to meet you because a gentleman arrived with so many credentials, it’s hard to figure out where the hell he came from. He turned off the Lieutenant’s water in an instant.”
“That must have made the Lieutenant happy,” Nick replied, knowing instinctively it could only be Paul Gilbrech. “It’s strange my unknown friend would meet me here. It also narrows the number of persons it could be. It’s been a long day’s journey into night, huh Grace?”
Grace stopped, turning to face Nick with tired eyes. “I’m trying to hold all this together, Nick. You’ve always valued honesty. Here it is. You scare the hell out of me. The name on the guy’s ID is Paul Gilbrech. I’m figuring he’s an important figure with the Company. My only question would be what our present case has to do with CIA business.”
“He and I suspect some of this is related to national security, no matter how trivial the thread. I am surprised he came here. That action is off the usual track. It’s possible he knows something about this cop-killing bunch, but I doubt it. I’m thinking something’s on his horizon concerning my getting out of here. Paul’s been getting a little too assertive on my book tour… but then again… I haven’t helped much with the situations I’ve ended up to my neck in. Let me handle Paul. I’m hoping it doesn’t concern the US Marshal’s Service.”
“That goes double for me,” Grace replied, threading her arm around his. “Oh… we’re off to see the Wizard… the wonderful wizard of-”
Nick snatched her free hand as it waved along with the song. “That’s enough of that. You handle the Lieutenant while I trade info with Paul.”
“What did you do to that Collins guy?”
“I showed him a movie. Now let’s go finish this crap, and move on. You and Tim have a symbiotic relationship with me now. I appreciated the ride out of the danger zone. I will try to keep the US Marshal’s service out of any fallout from this latest McCarty adlib.”
“You’re worrying the hell out of me, Nick. Tim and I thought we were the ones stirring your goofy life like a blender gone wild. Now, we see you in a totally new light, where you’re actually short circuiting the blender on high. You do realize Lieutenant Moragado actually suspects you of killing those guys trying to ambush cops. She has no idea how you could have done it, but she’d pin it on you in a split second if she could. How did you do it anyway?”
“Sorcery.”
“I believe it, you prick. There’s your man in Moragado’s office, smiling and winning her over by the minute. Why can’t you be more like him?”
“I doubt anything I could say other than a confession would make the Lieutenant smile,” Nick replied as they crossed the threshold into Moragado’s office.
Gilbrech reached out a hand to Nick, who shook it with a wry smile spreading on his features. “Good to see you, Nick. I’ve heard a rather disturbing rendition of your assistance in finding a damaging leak in the department. Lieutenant Moragado became curious about you. She tried to access your government files, which is of course above her pay grade. I needed to discuss another matter with you personally, so I thought it better to explain your rather unique consulting role face to face.”
“I understand now you also do consulting with the CIA, as well as other agencies,” Moragado said. “It explains your formidable contacts and resources. Mr. Gilbrech assured me you don’t work directly for the CIA, which would make it illegal for you to work inside the United States, even under the new Homeland Security measures. I’m sorry we got off to such a poor start. You produced remarkable results in a very short amount of time. Jacob Kerns has already been taken into custody at his home.
“I’m glad things worked out, Lieutenant. I promise to be out of your hair shortly. If I do another book signing in Charleston I’ll drop by the station to say hello. You could meet my family. My wife Rachel thinks I’m annoying too.”
Moragado laughed. “I’ll bet she does.”
“I need to talk with Nick before my next flight. Are you finished with the annoying one for now, Lieutenant?”
“I believe so. Marshal Stanwick and I can review the interrogation again while they bring Kerns in.”
“Let’s take a walk outside,” Gilbrech suggested.
* * *
Outside, the men walked in the same direction Nick did earlier in the evening. “I was surprised to see you in Charleston, Paul. I didn’t think a police corruption case would blow any skirts up at the Company.”
“Do I want to know how you became involved in all this? I know by the description I read describing six cop-killers going psycho and killing each other, that it was one of your favorite scene setups.”
“You’re right. It’s probably not a good idea mulling those pesky details over too closely,” Nick replied. “It was a good deed that went a bit sideways. Charleston has proven to be anything but relaxing, Paul. I think I need a vacation from my vacation. Rachel and Jean had a good visit though with Jean’s Grandma Mona. How’s the fallout from my impromptu consulting job with the local PD.”
“Very good. You earned big points for our US Marshal Service connection. The AG called me directly to thank me for allowing you to work this case with the Marshals. He doesn’t understand how you get into all these tangled webs, but he really likes the results. Aside from all that, I didn’t want anything happening to El Muerto. I wanted to give you a warning. Your new recruit called me from your place. It seems John went to the mosque in Seaside nearby, and was approached.”
“Gee… there’s some good news.” Paul had Nick’s full attention in an instant. “Did he say why he didn’t call me?”
“He knew you’d be in the middle of any number of things, so he called me first. I told him I’d brief you on what was happening. John recognized one of the men at the mosque who talked with him. His name’s Ansar Pasha. He’s an Egyptian. Pasha came here on a green card, worked and went to school for a short time in New York City, and then disappeared last year. He’s one of many we’ve lost track of.”
“And yet we’re still handing out visas. What a world. How’d John handle it?”
“He’s working it. I told him to keep going to the mosque, and not to avoid them or act overly friendly. John thinks they approached because his picture has probably been circulated. I suggested staying standoffish until these guys actually show their hand. If they do, I gave John permission to tell them the truth about what happened, and that he barely escaped with his life. He can tell them all about El Muerto, and how he nearly died, but managed to get away before the police arrived on scene. After all, there is an El Muerto video out there proving it.”
“Good cover. I don’t want John killed before I get a chance to train him a bit, and I don’t like him doing this without backup.” Nick began running scenarios in his mind at rapid speed, imagining all the negatives and positives, including the nearness to his
home. I guess I should have thought about all that before I did something as public as wounding three bad cops. Jesus… I need to talk to Payaso. I think Muerto has finally rounded the bend, taking my reality with him.
Paul did a double take at what he thought crossed Nick’s features. “I didn’t like that look you just flashed. If I’m shooting too much at you, say the word, and I’ll back off. We can put John in hiding until things cool off. I’m with you on the importance of a freelance asset like John. On top of that, I’ve never had a contract killer asset so attuned to right and wrong like you. It’s made a difference in the way I think, Nick. Your quirky side has admittedly brought us closer to exposure than we can afford. On the other hand, you’re doing what’s actually right while taking care of national security. I’ve made my choice. I’m backing you all the way down the coal chute. Your results are gathering a real following.”
Nick met Paul’s unwavering look with an acknowledging nod of the head. “Okay then… you have me on the pad, pal. I see something between us psychos besides professional courtesy. I won’t abuse it. I’m happy to get the hell out of Charleston. I want to sit on my favorite beach in Pacific Grove, and sip a coffee with Payaso laced with the Irish. I’ll work on ending this threat with John ASAP. Threats so close to my home make me queasy. I tend to kill with abandon when I get queasy.”
“Understood. I’m not sure what you’ll face when you access the situation in person, including another one of these damn Isis cells, but if you can use any help, in any way, shape, or form, please call me, Nick. I don’t want to lose you for any reason. You would be surprised how far I’d go to keep you alive.”
That statement stunned Nick into silence for a moment. “You’ve grown fond of El Muerto, huh? This action being so close to my homestead, I will seek to be more circumspect in my dealings with these suspected wrongdoers. It’s been a pleasure working with you too, Paul. I don’t care to have anything happen to you either.”
“Would you like a ride to the hotel? I’ll bet Rachel will be glad to see you.”
“I believe you’re right, Paul. My Rachel has become unusually dissatisfied with her surroundings here in Charleston.” Nick walked over to put a guiding arm around Gilbrech’s shoulders. “Although excited at first with my tour, Rachel, Jean, and even Deke the dog have become restless. I think I have them spoiled with West Coast living, even though it’s been getting a bit violent out there too. New York, Boston, and Charleston have awoken my ladies to the fact sometimes it’s violent everywhere.”
“Have you considered the fact it may just be you, Muerto?”
“That’s hurtful, Paul… probably true… but hurtful.”
Chapter Eleven
Home, Sweet Home
John threw the Frisbee for Deke, watching with glee as the dog raced through the sand at Otter’s Point, snatching the black disc from the air. Nick’s new recruit never seemed to tire when playing with Deke. On the other hand, Deke caught the Frisbee, and then head tossed it off to the side before joining Jean at one of the tide pools.
“I believe Deke has signaled an end to my Frisbee tossing joy,” John said.
A typical Pacific Grove morning with low lying fog, gray cloudy skies, and dead calm ocean surf made for a cool morning in the high fifties. Nick, Gus, John, and Jean wore hoodies and ball caps. To Nick it was a perfect Sunday morning, complete with mild breeze, Gulls’ piercing cries haphazardly upsetting the nearly silent scene, and hot coffee spiked with Bushmill’s Irish.
“Have a seat then, John,” Gus urged. “We’re in heaven here, bundled as if trapped on an ice floe in the arctic, and wondering what the hell is so great about the beach before dawn.”
“Pay no attention to this heretic,” Nick countered. “He’s been whining ever since I moved his ass out here to Pacific Grove. Gus like’s nothing better than to complain. If we ever came down here, and the sun was shining on a crystal clear morning, he’d find something else to bitch and moan about. This is a perfect time to meet though as you suspected. Without traffic, it would be very difficult for someone to tail you here. You were unsure when we talked on the phone whether they’re that interested in you yet.”
“They are interested,” John responded, sitting down in his beach chair. He accepted a spiked coffee from Gus. He sighed deeply as the mixture wound down his throat. “You two are devils of temptation with this demon drink you have forced on me. It is very good. I am glad you have returned. Ansar has begun calling me at night. At first it was polite conversation, wondering about my situation here. Lately, he has begun suggesting vaguely it is time to get back in the game, because they need my experience.”
“Have they ever shadowed you to the Carmel Valley house after seeing you at the mosque?”
“Yes. The second time I attended, they followed me, but because of your Carmel Valley home’s location, it is very difficult to do so without being seen. I can tell they are anxious to know how I could be living at such a place. I believe they have visions of making it into a training ground. I have a scenario in mind I would like to share with you. I can tell Ansar I made a connection with a true believer while in Boston. It is his land I am staying on.”
“I like it,” Nick replied. “He can be an anonymous benefactor to use as a cover. Damn… this could be fun. We’ll let Ansar turn my Carmel Valley place into a terrorist training ground. Paul will pass out cold on the floor when I tell him about this new angle in the war on terror.”
“Wait a minute,” Gus interrupted Nick’s psycho reverie. “Isn’t the Carmel Valley place in your name?”
“Nope. I bought and developed it under a fictional business interest tied to my place in Las Vegas. The dummy corporation there pays all taxes and utilities through an on-line account. It will be perfect for what John has in mind.”
“I know Gilbrech’s going to ask this,” Gus continued. “What the hell are we going to do with a terrorist training ground? I know I’m interested in knowing.”
“We will let John play the Pied Piper, getting all the rats together. Then, El Muerto, Payaso, and the newest member of our violent band, El Kabong, will swoop down on these wrongdoers.”
Gus let out the breath he had been holding. “Oh boy.”
“El Kabong?” John’s questioning glance from Nick to Gus went unanswered until Gus grabbed his iPad, doing a quick on-line search. He then turned it for John’s viewing pleasure of an old ‘Quick Draw McGraw’ cartoon, featuring the goofy horse Quick Draw and his alter ego, the vigilante, El Kabong. It was many moments before John could speak.
“See,” Nick pointed at John. “He likes his new secret identity.”
“We’ll be the laughing stock of all creation when our first violent video hits,” Gus said. “Are you meaning this as an insult so as to attract a response?”
“Of course. When terrorists die at the hands of cartoon characters, it provides the right message for these assholes. Instead of instilling fear in the populace, the people will see terrorists hunted down by cartoons.”
“Yes… yes… it is just so,” John managed to blurt out in agreement. “It will be seen as a great insult, and it will lower their esteem when seen in this light you have planned. Do I also get a costume?”
“Of course,” Nick answered. “You shall have a black mask like El Muerto, but you will have an impressive El Kabong swashbuckler hat.”
“May I shop for one?”
“Sure, John. Gus picked out his own Payaso mask. We will be a famous trio by the time we get done with this new group of thugs. Paul is very happy with your actions here on the coast. Did you get your credentials?”
“Yes. I have them hidden though, so in case I begin getting visitors at your Carmel house. I like it there, Nick. Thank you for letting me stay at your other home.”
“It’s already paid dividends. I’ll contact Paul when we finish our Sunday morning beach walk.”
“I should go now before I am seen,” John said. “El Kabong… away!”
John scur
ried along the Otter’s Point rock wall, waving at Jean. Deke ran to get a last pet before John reached the stone steps. Jean hurried over.
“Dad? Did you make John into El Kabong?”
“Oh… you know of the great El Kabong, do you?”
“I saw him on Nic-at-Night. He’s a cartoon horse named Quick Draw McGraw, who turns into El Kabong the cartoon vigilante.” Jean began giggling. “So… you added El Kabong into your gang. That is so cool.”
“Remember to keep that to yourself. I have plans for El Kabong.”
“I bet you do. What does Payaso think of this new guy on the team?”
Gus shrugged. “I guess it makes sense in some alternate universe. John seems to like it… a little too much for sanity’s sake though.”
“John recognizes genius when he sees it, Payaso.”
“If you say so, Muerto.”
A police car drove to the roadside near the stone wall. Sergeant Dickerson exited the vehicle, waving at Nick. “Hey, Nick, I thought our resident crime fighting writer would check in when he returns from a book tour. You’re not holding up your end of this Pacific Grove PD and ‘Castle’ type collaboration.”
Nick reached and shook hands with the crouching Dickerson by the rock wall. “Sorry, Neil, but I figured you’d seen enough of me for a while after the Kader mess. Thanks, by the way, for backing me up on the consulting gig I managed to get Gus and I tangled in with. You know my daughter Jean, don’t you?”
“We met under bad circumstances when the Kader mess unfolded. Hi Jean. Not to switch topics on you, but I need another pair of eyes on a murder I’m working with other police departments to solve. Would you take a ride with me, and take a look?”
“Go on, Dad,” Jean urged. “Gus will see us home. Mom should be wide awake pretty soon anyway with the Sergeant’s visit. I’ll tell her where you’re at. I doubt she’ll be surprised.”
Nick got a nod from Gus. “Sure, I’ll take a look, but why is everyone getting bent out of shape over this murder? It’s not like you to want me to take a look at a crime scene before you’re on your last nerve.”
Cold Blooded III: Sins and Sanctions (Nick McCarty Assassin Series Book 3) Page 23
