by C. M. Sutter
“You can leave if you need to, Jesse.”
“Nope. There’s still twenty minutes before I have to go. I’ll wait it out.”
Lutz’s desk phone rang seconds later. He took in a deep breath, nodded at Frank and me, then answered. “Commander Lutz speaking. Yep, and I’m putting you on Speakerphone, Mike.” Lutz pressed the button, and Mike’s voice came to life.
“Hey, guys. Ready for the results?”
“Go ahead,” Lutz said. “We’re holding our collective breath.”
“The results are positive. Maria is a familial match to the DNA that was found under Tina’s fingernails.”
The commander high-fived both of us. “Good deal. Thanks, Mike. I’ll be down to pick up the paperwork soon.”
As much as I wanted to sit in on the meeting with Maria and her lawyer, it would likely be another hour before that would happen. I was dying to see Maria squirm when she was told about the familial match. I knew Lutz and Frank would do a great job, and I would watch the recorded interview later, but right now, I had to get home to meet with the security guys.
Chapter 22
“We’ve got to roll.”
With his gun well hidden beneath his sport jacket, Mauricio grabbed his cell phone off the table in the room of the two-bit motel and waited for his brother to finish in the bathroom.
“What’s up?” Antonio adjusted his pants and followed Mauricio out the door.
“Cruz just called. We’re checking out of this shithole and staying with him for a while. He wants us to drive by the detective’s house and see if he’s home. Maybe he’s nursing his dog back to health.”
Antonio snickered. “Or digging a hole in the backyard for it. Then what?”
“Wing it, I guess. Cruz said to wait for a good opportunity to pounce on McCord and give him a taste of our Vasquez medicine. Of course, we’ll have our faces covered.”
“Sounds like the perfect day to me. Let’s hit it.”
Less than ten minutes later, Mauricio pulled to the curb two houses away from Jesse’s. Within seconds, a van with the name Windy City Security on the side panel rolled to a stop just beyond the McCord driveway.
“Check it out,” Antonio said. “Looks like the detective is getting worried about his well-being. He’s having a security system installed.”
“And we can work with that.” Mauricio stepped out and closed the car door quietly.
“What are you doing?”
“Being Detective McCord. I’ll distract the driver while you sneak up on the passenger side. We’ll catch them off guard and knock them out, then we’ll take their place and be ready when the detective shows up.”
Antonio slipped out the passenger door without making a sound then jerked his chin toward the van. “Go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”
As Mauricio approached the van, Antonio sprang into action. Scurrying to the back of the vehicle, he waited, and as soon as Mauricio began talking to the driver, Antonio grabbed the passenger door handle and yanked it open. A fast swing with the butt of his gun was all it took. The installer on the passenger side was out cold. Mauricio did the same, and the driver slumped over the steering wheel.
“Climb in, Antonio, and let’s toss them in the back. They were obviously expecting McCord to show up.”
The men moved quickly, pulled the polo shirts over the heads of the unconscious men, and replaced their own shirts with the Windy City ones.
“We have to jam something into their mouths.” Mauricio pointed at a wheel of speaker wire. “Tie their hands behind their backs with that.”
“Here’s a box of shop rags,” Antonio said. “That’ll work to keep them quiet.” He pushed a rag into each man’s mouth and made sure their hands and feet were tied.
“Shit! A yellow Camaro just turned this way two blocks back. Run to the car and get the masks. We need them now!”
Antonio bolted from the van, ran to the car, and grabbed the masks from the footwell of the passenger seat. He was back within seconds. Mauricio handed him a shop rag.
“Wipe yourself off. You’re sweating like a pig. Be sure to look down when McCord passes by, and we’ll make our move as soon as he pulls into the garage.”
“Ready and raring to go, brother.”
With the clipboard in hand as if he were studying the work order, Mauricio watched discreetly through the driver’s-side mirror. The Camaro put on its blinker and slowed down. “He’s turning in.”
Antonio dropped his head lower but watched when the car passed the van. The overhead lifted, and the car pulled into the garage.
Mauricio pushed open the door handle. “Put on your mask and grab your gun. We have to take him by surprise now before he has a chance to step out of the garage.”
With their masks lowered, the men jumped from the van just as Jesse opened his driver’s-side door. As he looked up, confusion covered his face while Mauricio cocked his fist and drove it into Jesse’s chin. Stunned and staggering backward against his car, Jesse took another blow that buckled his knees and sent him to the garage floor. He swatted his hip for his gun, but a second man kicked it away and sent it spinning across the concrete floor. Then a boot to the back of his head knocked Jesse senseless.
Mauricio pointed at the disabled detective. “Grab his cell phone and let’s go.”
Antonio dropped Jesse’s phone into his pocket as the men pulled off the masks, ducked under the closing garage door, and retrieved their shirts from the van. They casually walked to their car and drove away as if nothing had happened.
“Yeah! That’s what I’m talking about. That was awesome!” Antonio said. “That prick had no clue what was about to happen, and I would have enjoyed beating his ass a little longer.”
Mauricio laughed. “Me too, but we were instructed to send a message, not to kill the bastard. John wants that privilege himself.”
“Where to now?”
Mauricio lifted his hip and pulled out a slip of paper. “Here’s Cruz’s address. Program it into your phone and have the GPS lead the way. He’s expecting us.”
Chapter 23
Jesse groaned in pain as the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. He spat and rolled to his belly. Getting his knees under him was difficult, and every time he tried to right himself, his head spun. Lying flat, he patted his pockets in hopes of calling 911, but his pockets, turned inside out, were empty.
Where’s my damn phone?
The area surrounding him was pitch-black, and he couldn’t make out where he was or see his hand in front of his face. He tried to shake the cobwebs from his head and think.
The guys from the security company did this, but why? I’m in the garage—I think.
Jesse attempted to get to his knees again, and that time, he managed. With his palms flat on the floor, he inched forward. He didn’t know which way he faced, and having a cloudy mind didn’t help, but as he crawled along, his hand finally bumped something. He reached out and felt the shape—a tire. He was in the garage, and that was his car. Following the side panel, he realized he was at the back tire, then he turned the opposite way. He needed to get to the visor so he could lift the garage door with the remote. It seemed to take forever, but he finally reached the door handle and jerked it open.
Grabbing the steering wheel for support, Jesse lifted himself to the seat and gulped in deep breaths to deal with the pain.
Shit, that hurts.
He pressed the remote, and daylight shone in as the door rose.
Thank God.
A vehicle at the curb caught his eye through the rearview mirror.
The security van is still here? Are those men going to knock me senseless again?
He rifled through the console and felt for it on the floor, but his phone wasn’t there. Glancing across the garage, Jesse saw his gun, but in his condition, reaching it would take time. His entire body ached, and pinpointing the worst of it was nearly impossible.
I’ve got to get to my gun.
Mentally blocking
out the pain, he reached his service weapon and had protection in case the men returned. Jesse cocked his ear and heard sounds from inside the van.
What the hell was that? I need to get Dean’s attention, but how?
Stumbling but with his feet finally under him, Jesse shuffled to his car and pressed the horn. Going into the house could be risky since the men who attacked him might be inside. He held down the horn for what seemed like an eternity and finally heard his neighbor’s familiar voice. Dean was headed Jesse’s way and calling out his name. Relief swept over him when he saw Dean turn in to the garage.
“Jesse, what the hell is going on in here? Jesus! What happened to you?”
“Thank God you heard the horn. Hit the wall switch so we have some light and then close the overhead. Two men attacked me, and they may still be out there.”
“Yep, on it, but I’ve got to call 911. You’re beat up pretty bad.”
“I’ll be okay, but I need you to call the police. I heard sounds coming from that security van outside.”
Dean made the call then hung up. “Dispatch said a patrol unit is in the area. They should be here in a minute or two.”
“Good.” Jesse asked for Dean’s phone. “I need to call Lutz.”
“You need to have someone take a look at you. Your cheek is really beginning to swell.”
“I will once I talk to Lutz and the police clear the area.”
After the phone rang five times in Jesse’s ear, Lutz finally picked up. “Sorry, buddy. I just got back from the crime lab. What’s up? Did you get the security system in place?”
“Bob, I’ve been attacked, and as crazy as it sounds, I think the installers did it. Dean called 911, and a patrol unit is en route. They should be here any second. The security company van is still along the curb, and I heard sounds coming from inside.”
“Son of a bitch! I’m on my way. How badly are you injured?”
“I doubt if anything is broken, but everything hurts.”
“Okay, I’m sending EMTs to check you out.”
“But—”
“Not another word. Sit tight.”
“I’ve got to go, Bob. I hear the sirens outside. They need to know about the sounds coming from the van.” Jesse clicked off the call and pointed at the wall switch. “Open the overhead, Dean. I have to talk to the cops.”
The garage door lifted just as a squad car screeched to a stop in the driveway. Two officers jumped out.
“Over here,” Dean said. “Detective McCord was attacked, and he needs to talk to you.”
Jesse waved the officers to the car, where he sat sideways in the driver’s seat, his feet resting on the garage floor. He pointed out to the street. “I heard sounds coming from that van. I was supposed to have a security system installed today, and when I pulled into the garage, I was attacked from behind. Clear the van and then the whole street. Take a look in my house too. I was knocked out for a few minutes, so I don’t know if anyone made entry inside or not.”
“You got it, Detective McCord.” The officer called out over his radio. “We need two more units at the Cregier Avenue location. The assailants may still be at large.”
Jesse explained everything he remembered, then with their guns drawn, the officers pulled open the van’s doors. Bound with speaker wire and gagged with shop rags, the two shirtless men were lying on the van’s floor.
Within seconds of Lutz’s cruiser arriving, two more units squealed to a stop behind the security van. The installers were speaking to the police and giving their account of what had happened. Forty-five minutes earlier, they were assaulted, their shirts were ripped from their bodies—likely so the perps could impersonate them—and they were bound and gagged.
The senior patrol officer called out to the units at the scene. “Listen up, guys. We’re looking for two men who may still be in the area. Detective McCord’s house and property have been cleared, but everyone needs to spread out and look for two large men with dark hair. They may be wearing shirts with the security company logo on them.”
Lutz and Mills rushed inside the garage. “Let me take a look at you, Jesse,” Bob said. “The EMTs are three minutes out.”
Jesse waved him off. “It’s more important for you and the patrol units to find those guys right now, Bob. Frank and the EMTs can worry about me.”
“Can you ID them?”
“No, they were wearing masks, but I heard that the installers saw them for a split second. They’ve already given Officer Paulson back there their account of what happened.” Jesse pointed at the officer who was calling out orders.
“Okay, I’ll talk to him.” Once he stepped out of the garage, Lutz looked back toward Jesse. “The EMTs are here. Frank, make sure McCord cooperates with them.”
Frank stood to the side while the EMTs addressed Jesse’s injuries. He returned to Jesse’s side twenty minutes later. “You okay, buddy? I mean for real.”
Jesse shrugged. “Bruised ribs and a few good cracks to the head.”
Frank pointed. “The butterfly stitches on your noggin are a nice touch. How does the rib band feel?”
“Tight, but I’ll live.”
“Guess the EMTs are working on the security installers now. Lutz said they got their eggs scrambled pretty good too.”
“I need some fresh air. Something that doesn’t smell like lawn mower gas.”
“Sure thing, pal. Is the porch okay?”
“It’s fine, but first I want to talk to the installers.” Frank and Jesse joined them at the back of the rescue squad where the EMTs were addressing their wounds. “How exactly did the two men catch you off guard?” Jesse asked.
Steve, the van’s driver, spoke up. “I thought the guy coming to the window was you. A second later, somebody pulled open the passenger door, clubbed Drake over the head, and then I felt a sharp crack just above my ear. It was lights out for me too. Apparently there were two men.”
“Describe the guy that came to the driver’s-side window.”
“It happened so fast, but I remember seeing dark hair, and he was big.”
“Big how?”
“Tall and muscular.”
“Taller than me?”
“Hell yeah. Sorry, Detective McCord, but he had a good five inches on you, and I didn’t see the second man at all.”
Jesse motioned to Frank, who waved down a patrol unit.
“Officer Markle,” Frank said. “Pull up the files for Antonio and Mauricio Vasquez on your car’s computer. We need the height and weight for both men. Grab their arrest mug shots too.”
“Yes, sir, Detective Mills.”
Lutz returned to their sides with a chair hooked through the bend in his left elbow and Jesse’s phone in his right hand. “Here, an officer found this in the bushes.”
“Great. That’s one less thing to deal with.”
Lutz continued. “If you insist on conducting interviews, at least plant your ass in this chair.”
“Thanks.” Jesse turned to Steve. “Did you see the vehicle he exited?”
“Can’t say that I did. It’s like he came out of nowhere and was just standing at the driver’s-side door.”
Jesse nodded a thank-you and took a seat. “They had a car nearby, otherwise they would have been found by now.”
Frank lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. Lutz gave him a frown. “You are on the clock, Mills.”
“Sorry, Boss, but they help me concentrate. Do you really think it was the Vasquez brothers, Jesse?”
“Who else would it be? My question is, with Hal and Maria in lockup, who’s calling the shots?”
Chapter 24
Mauricio turned right at the driveway on Filbranz Lane. The garage door lifted, and Cruz waved him in. With the car snugged in next to Cruz’s burgundy Escalade and motorcycle, the men climbed out of their nondescript black Chevy sedan and joined their handler inside the house.
“John said you should stay with me temporarily, but you’ll be out on your asses if you cause any shit o
r attract attention to yourselves. I live a quiet, peaceful life here, and I have neighbors. Understand?”
They agreed to keep a low profile and said they would leave the premises only when instructed to do so.
“Good, because I report to Mr. Vance daily, and I wouldn’t want to piss him off. What’s the latest on that murder case?”
Antonio shrugged. “All I know is that Maria is being held for questioning. I’m sure it’s standard procedure when the husband of a murder victim has a girlfriend, that they’d both be hauled in, but if Maria runs her mouth, I’ll kill her myself. She has as much to lose as we do since she’s the one who set the wheels in motion. The husband wanted the wife out of the way, but he was too much of a pussy to do anything about it himself.”
“Okay, but starting now, turn off the locations on your phones and don’t accept any more calls from your sister. Remember, every phone call she makes from jail is recorded.” Cruz walked to the humidor, opened it, and pulled out three Montecristo Cuban cigars. “Enjoy these, because they aren’t cheap.” He took a seat in the leather wingback chair. “Now, tell me the play-by-play details of how it went at McCord’s house. John will want to know everything.”
Chapter 25
A party was underway in Brownsville. Back at Luca’s house, the men celebrated a successful crossing into Mexico and back to the United States. Their passports had been stamped, and not a single border agent raised a suspicious brow. It helped that Luca and both border patrol officers had been paid well and the documents were top quality.
John glanced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Staring back at him was a man with black hair and a fake mustache. He carefully eased the mustache from his upper lip and carried it into the bedroom he shared with Curt, then he placed it in a tin box. Rubbing away the remaining glue that stuck to his face, he returned to the living room and joined the other two.
“Check it out, Luca. John is clean-shaven again.” The men laughed as Curt twisted the cap off another beer and handed it to his brother. “Maybe I should do the same. This damn mustache makes me sneeze.”
