by C. M. Sutter
I dialed Henry as Frank drove, and Maria sat in the back seat with her hands cuffed behind her.
“Detective Henry Johnson speaking.”
“Hey, pal, it’s Jesse. Pull the names Antonio and Mauricio Vasquez and see if they’re in the system. We’re heading back in with their sister, Maria.”
“If they have records, the info will be on your desk by the time you get here.”
“Thanks, bud.” I clicked off the call and looked over my shoulder at Maria. “The clock is ticking.”
Chapter 15
Brownsville was only fifty miles away. They would be there by six o’clock. All they had left to do was get past Border Patrol with their false documents, and after that, they would truly be free.
Curt munched on a bag of chips as John drove. “Luca told me he has connections with certain people that work in Border Patrol. It’s the safest way to get into Mexico.”
John grinned. “I imagine anybody can be bought for the right price. If our documents look legit and we can pass in and out of Mexico through these friends of his, it’ll be worth every penny they charged us. Luca has gotten plenty of money already, and once our passports clear the crossing, he and his helpers will be killed, just like the others. One by one, everybody that has a connection to us has to die. It’s the only way to guarantee our freedom.”
Curt passed the bag to John, who reached in and pulled out a handful of salty chips.
John smirked. “El Chapo escaped prison twice and was on the lam for years. There’s no reason why we can’t go back and forth between countries while raking in the money.”
“But Guzman was eventually caught.”
John nodded. “True, but he let his elevated ego get the best of him. He thought his network was impenetrable, and it wasn’t. We’ll succeed because everyone along the way will die. The Vance brothers will vanish into thin air, and we’ll run the business with assumed names from a location that nobody will ever connect our real identities to.”
“Works for me. Should I call Luca and tell him we’re almost there?”
“No, let’s surprise him. Catching him off guard is the only way to know if he’s trustworthy. Doing that keeps people loyal.” John reached for Curt’s phone. “I need to call Conway, though, and find out what happened with McCord’s mutt.”
Chapter 16
Our interview with Maria was at a standstill. She’d lawyered up. As we sat in the bull pen and waited for her attorney to arrive, we reviewed the information Henry pulled up on the Vasquez brothers. Our criminal database showed both men had served time in jail over the last five years. Their parents, who owned numerous restaurants, had deep pockets and kept the most expensive lawyers on retainer. Their sons’ crimes were conveniently swept under the rug as little more than misdemeanor charges with short jail stints.
“So Antonio and Mauricio could be good for Tina’s murder,” Lutz said as he read over the list of crimes they had committed—robbery, aggravated assault, selling oxy and coke, check forging, hacking bank accounts, and the list went on. The commander took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “How do they get away without serious jail time?”
“Criminals walk when money talks,” I said. “We need to haul those boys in and swab them both. One of them could match the unidentified DNA that was under Tina’s fingernails.”
“But there’s still the fingerprints at the scene. If they belonged to the brothers, they’d be in the system,” Frank said.
Henry added his two cents. “They could have been gloved and had help from somebody whose fingerprints aren’t in the system. It’s worth a shot. As of now, we don’t have enough for a conviction, but if they start throwing each other under the bus, you never know.”
“Circumstantial at best, but if we’re creative and their nerves kick in, it might work.” Lutz checked the time. “The night shift boys are about to show up. They can pick up the brothers and bring them in for questioning. Don’t forget, somebody has scratches on their body from Tina fighting back.”
I reached in my pocket and pulled out my buzzing phone. “That’s weird. My neighbor is calling.”
Lutz tipped his chin toward the door. “Go ahead. Everyone take five minutes.”
I rose from my desk and entered the hallway as I answered my phone. “Hey, Dean, is everything okay?”
“Jesse, something is wrong with Bandit. He’s panting and convulsing. I carried him over to my house after I found him lying on the deck in your backyard.”
“Jesus Christ, Dean. Take him to Hyde Park Animal Hospital. Hurry! I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes.” I raced back into the bull pen. “I’ve got to get to the animal hospital. Something is wrong with Bandit.”
Lutz waved me off. “Go, go, go! Take care of your pup.”
I bolted for the outside door, ran across our parking lot, and jumped into my car. I wished I could take a cruiser with lights and sirens, but I couldn’t if it was for personal reasons. I hit the gas and barreled out of the lot. It would take under ten minutes to get there if I hit every green light. A million scenarios filled my mind, and none of them made sense.
Please, God, don’t let Bandit die. What the hell could have happened, and how did he get outside?
There wasn’t a logical explanation, but I would ask Dean if he saw anything unusual at the house. In the moment of urgency, he might not have looked. He didn’t think like a cop, and there was no reason he should.
As soon as I parked, I raced to the building, and through the wall of glass, I saw Dean pacing the waiting area. After barging through the door, I ran to his side. “What happened?”
He shook his head. “I have no idea. I walked next door to feed him, went in the house like I always do, and saw him through the sliders. I opened them and called him in, thinking he was asleep, and that’s when I saw his condition. He was lying on his side, facing away from me. His tongue was flapping against the deck, and his body was shaking. That’s when I scooped him up and carried him home.”
“But how did he get outside?” My question was rhetorical, and I was actually asking myself. I didn’t leave the slider unlocked when I left home that morning, or did I?
“Did you see anything, like a broken window or an open door?”
“I wasn’t looking for that. Like I said, I unlocked the front door, went in, and immediately saw him through the glass when I walked toward the kitchen to get his food.”
I patted Dean’s shoulder. “Sorry, buddy, I’m not trying to interrogate you. It’s habit. That’s all. What did the vet say? How is Bandit doing?”
“No word yet. They took him in the back just before you got here.”
My voice cracked with the question. “And his condition was still the same?”
Dean nodded and wiped his eyes with his handkerchief.
Moments later, the emergency area doors parted, and the vet, Dr. Leeson, walked toward us. “Are you Bandit’s owner?”
I said I was. “What happened? Will he be okay?”
“It looks like Bandit ingested a significant dose of rat poison. We’ve induced vomiting, which was successful. He threw up a good amount of the poison and about a pound of hamburger. We’re doing an internal wash with a sodium bicarbonate solution to get the poison out of his stomach, and then we’ll be pushing liquids through him all night. Bandit will be under observation, so he’ll have to remain here.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “But will he be okay?”
“Luckily it was caught before the poison did too much damage. Bandit should make a full recovery, but he’ll be weak for a few days.” The doctor walked with us to the reception counter. “Go ahead and fill out the required paperwork. We’ll give you a call tomorrow and let you know how he’s doing and when you can pick him up. I’d suggest you track down where and how Bandit got ahold of that poison.”
I shook the doctor’s hand and thanked him. After filling out the forms and paying for the night’s emergency services, Dean and I walked out.
“J
esse, what the hell is going on? You and I are the only people in the neighborhood with dogs, and neither of them are nuisances. Do you think it was a deliberate act?”
I was furious. I knew all my neighbors, and nobody living near me would do such a thing. But there was no way Bandit could have been exposed to rat poison unless it was intentional, and I hadn’t given him hamburger either. “I don’t know, but I’d keep Jackson behind closed doors or in your backyard. Don’t let him out of your sight until I get to the bottom of this. Somebody had to have gotten into my house, and the only way that could have happened is if they broke in or I accidentally left a door unlocked. You didn’t see anyone nosing around during the last few hours?”
“I made dinner and then watched the news, so no. As soon as it ended, I walked to your house.”
“Okay, thanks, buddy. I owe you plenty.”
Dean waved off the comment. “What are neighbors for? Anyway, Bandit is like family, and you’d do the same for Jackson.”
“Damn right I would. Now I need to go home and start investigating. Remember, keep Jackson safe and your eyes peeled.”
“Will do.”
I walked with Dean to his car then headed to my own. I had work to do that night, and a call to Mills couldn’t hurt. Two sets of eyes belonging to detectives were better than one.
I tapped Frank’s number on my car’s infotainment system and he answered right away.
“How’s Bandit?”
“He’ll be okay thanks to Dean. Bandit was poisoned, Frank.”
“Poisoned? How? He’s locked in the house when you’re at work. Did he get into some cleaning products?”
“Nope. The vet said it was rat poison mixed with hamburger. I haven’t given Bandit hamburger, and I sure as hell don’t have any rat poison at home.”
Frank cursed. “So it was deliberate?”
“How else could Bandit have ingested it? How about giving me a hand looking around the house and yard. Somebody gained access to my property, and I damn well plan to find out how they did it.”
I clicked off the call and pulled into my garage a few minutes later. With my gun drawn, I cleared the basement before climbing the steps to the main level of the house. Going up the stairs felt strange without Bandit there to greet me. I walked from room to room and checked the closets and under the beds, only to find nothing. The beams from Frank’s headlights shown between the slats in the living room blinds. I crossed the room and opened the front door for him.
“Find anything out of place?”
My shrug told him I hadn’t. “Not inside.” I pointed at the flashlights I had placed on the kitchen counter. “But I still have to check the entire backyard, around the gate, and see if the side garage door looks like it was tampered with.”
“That doorbell camera hasn’t arrived yet?”
“It did yesterday, but it’s still in the box. I haven’t had the time or energy to install it.”
“We’ll do it tonight, but that doesn’t help the rest of your yard.” Frank’s forehead wrinkled, and his eyebrows nearly touched.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“You find a toxic plant left on your porch by an anonymous sender, and now Bandit gets poisoned with rat bait? Somebody is sending you a message, Jesse, and it’s a dangerous one.”
I was fuming. “Messing with me is one thing, but going after my innocent dog? No way in hell. I’m getting security cameras installed around the entire house tomorrow.”
“Maybe we should talk to Lutz. He can have Abrams instruct his patrol units to make extra rounds in this neighborhood.”
I pulled out two beers from the refrigerator and handed one to Frank. “That’s a good idea, and I’ll bring it up in the morning.”
Chapter 17
It was pushing nine o’clock by the time Frank yelled out across the backyard. “I found their point of entry!”
I raced toward him and stepped up on my deck. “Where?”
“Right there, and you’d never see it without the glare of the flashlight bouncing off the slider. Check it out.”
I followed the beam of light to where Frank was pointing. Two handprints, evenly spaced, were at the five-foot height on the glass.
“The son of a bitch lifted the slider out of the locking mechanism?”
“Exactly. So why isn’t there a bar in the track?”
I shook my head. “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but this has always been a safe neighborhood, and I’ve lived here my whole damn life.”
“Just busting your chops, buddy.” Frank waved his flashlight over the handprints. “Unfortunately, they were wearing gloves and likely rubber ones to help grip the glass. I hate to say they’re professionals, but everything is pointing in that direction. My question is, why would Hal Morton send goons after you specifically?” Frank followed me to the gate as he talked.
“Not sure.” I pointed my light at the gate and saw screw holes where the latch had been. “They pulled the latch off. Who carries a tool kit and rubber gloves with them to break into a house?”
“Like I said, professionals.”
“Guess I need something more secure on the gate too.”
“Or a motion-sensor light with a camera aiming in that direction.”
I retraced my steps to the back of the house and went inside through the slider. Pulling two more beers out of the refrigerator, I jerked my chin toward the kitchen table. Frank took a seat while I grabbed a pad of paper and a pen from the junk drawer.
“We need to figure this out tonight.” I tapped the pen against the blank pad then looked at Frank. “Even if Hal Morton set the plan in motion and the Vasquez brothers carried out Tina’s murder, why would that have anything to do with me? I’ve never met any of them in my life.”
“The rap sheets on the brothers showed they were arrested for selling oxy and coke. You used to work Narcotics, Jesse.”
“And so did a lot of other detectives that still do. They were only hit with misdemeanor charges, so either the judge was on their payroll or some of our cops were, but I doubt that it was them. Whoever did this was clever, and it’s unlikely that those brothers have one complete brain between them.”
“Then who?”
“John or somebody that works for him.”
“Seriously?”
I took a swig of beer and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “I’ve never told anyone this, but the day I finally made the arrest and snapped the cuffs around his wrists, he threatened me.”
“Jesus! That was three years ago. What did he say?”
“He said, ‘You’ll pay for killing Jake, pig, and you’ll never see it coming.’”
“Was that verbatim, because it sounds like you memorized it?”
“A threat coming from him? Damn straight, I memorized it.”
Frank crossed the kitchen and grabbed the doorbell camera off the counter. “Put your reading glasses on. It’s time to set this up. Then get somebody out here tomorrow to install security cameras and motion-sensor lights all the way around the house, and buy a damn bar for the patio door track too.”
Frank did most of the work, but soon the doorbell camera was in place, and we tried it out. Frank stood on the porch and rang the bell, and with the app on my phone, I could clearly see him, the entire porch, and the sidewalk.
“There, that’s a start,” Frank said. “Now, let’s secure that gate too.”
From the side yard, we braced a board against the gate for the time being, and tomorrow, I would buy a better latch that could be accessed only from the back of the gate. Once the security measures were in place, I’d feel a lot better for myself and my neighbors. But that night, all I could do was thank Frank for his help and hope Bandit would make a full recovery. I wanted answers about John Vance, and I’d talk to Lutz about that in the morning. If I had to contact the FBI myself to find out more, I’d make the effort.
I walked Frank to the door. “Thanks for the help, partner, and I’ll see you in the morning
.”
He gave me a look of concern. “Turn every outdoor light on, make sure all the windows are closed and latched, and dead bolt the doors. Get your baseball bat out of the garage and jam it in the slider track. At least it’s something.”
“Thanks, but if somebody wanted to get inside the house bad enough, they’d just break the glass.”
“But it would give you plenty of time to shoot them dead if they did.”
I had to agree. I said good night and locked the door after Frank walked out, then I watched from the living room window as he got into his truck and drove away. I was alone for the first time since Bandit had come to live with me, and I felt empty inside. My pup was tough and he’d pull through, but I vowed to find the monster, or monsters, who did this and personally show them my own kind of justice.
Chapter 18
John and Curt had reached Brownsville earlier, bought dinner at another drive-through restaurant, and ate it behind an out-of-the-way gas station. They continued on, using the navigation on Curt’s phone to find the home of recently transplanted Luca Vasquez, the cousin of Maria, Antonio, and Mauricio. The Vasquez family was large and had a wide reach. With people in every big city and major border town throughout the US, they always had somebody to contact for any job that needed to be done.
“Here we are,” Curt said as he checked the time—9:16. He backed into the driveway and parked the Camry. “Looks like a quiet area without neighbors up in his grill. Luca did a good job picking this place.”
John opened the maps app on Curt’s phone. “How far are we from the border?”
“Luca said it was four miles away.”
“Okay, let’s bang on his door and see what’s up.”
Once they exited the car, the men walked the last hundred feet to the front door. John made a fist and gave the door three hard raps. Footsteps clacked against the floor, getting closer. The porch light went on, and they waited. Seconds later, the door swung open.
“Amigos! You made it! Come in, come in.” Luca gave John a tight embrace. “I haven’t seen you in ages. How have you been, my friend?”
