by C. M. Sutter
I shook my head. “We can’t take that chance since he may be friends with his neighbors. Somebody could easily give him a heads-up.”
Henry snugged his cruiser to our rear bumper, then they joined us at our car. “What’s the plan?” He looked around and pointed. “The houses are in close proximity to each other.”
“Noted,” I said. “We have to slither in like snakes, stay well hidden, then storm the house on my command.” I pointed through the trees. “I can see the front door from here, and I imagine there’s a back one too. I also imagine they’re well-armed inside that house.” I gave myself a minute to think things through. “Change of plans. We’ll wait for backup. Four detectives against three criminals that probably have semiautomatic rifles isn’t the best odds, especially when we don’t know where they are inside, or the house’s floor plan. I’ll have Lutz call those patrol units. I don’t think they’re far away.”
The wait was a short five minutes, then three patrol cars rolled up. They parked single file behind Henry’s cruiser and got out.
I caught the attention of the officer who climbed out of the driver’s seat of the first car and whispered for him to get the ram. He gave me a nod and popped the trunk, and the officer in the second car did the same. A ram for each door wasn’t a bad idea.
They approached and asked how we wanted to proceed. As the lead detective, I took the reins, and now there were seven of us—much better odds.
“Morris, you watch the overhead garage door in case they try to make a run for it. Tillson, you go with Henry and Shawn at the back, and Frank, Jefferson, and I will storm the front. Since you’re wearing radios, we can coordinate the exact second to ram the doors and make entry.” I slapped my chest. “Everyone wearing vests?”
They said they were.
“Okay, hug the tree line then scramble to your location. Wait for my say-so, and we’ll barge in, guns drawn and ready to fire. By all accounts, they’re armed to the teeth, so watch yourselves. Let’s move out!”
We stayed low and behind cover at every opportunity we could find. The overhead garage door was closed, and so were all the curtains, which gave me a sense of relief—they wouldn’t see us coming. I jerked my head at Jefferson to get in front of Frank and me—he had the ram. With a head tip, I told him to let the others know we would burst in on the count of three. Jefferson counted, swung the ram, and broke down the front door. Frank and I charged inward, and Henry, Potter, and Tillson mirrored us from the back.
We cleared the living room within a second as the others barged through the mudroom and met us in the middle. Lying on the kitchen floor with overturned chairs at their sides were two men I assumed to be the Vasquez brothers. Blood pools, still spreading beneath their torsos and heads, indicated that the shooting was within the last half hour. The holes in their chests, and no weapons in sight to fight back with, told me they were taken by surprise. The coups de grace were the kill shots that landed squarely in each forehead, execution style. Dead men definitely told no tales.
“Son of a bitch! Let’s clear the house and check the garage. We have to make sure nobody else is here.”
Moments later, with the residence cleared, I made the call to Lutz. “We’ve got two dead men at the Cruz home, Boss. I assume they’re the brothers since they look similar, injuries included. Cruz is missing. We need to find out what he’s driving and get a BOLO on that vehicle immediately. He couldn’t have gotten far since the blood under the bodies hasn’t even coagulated yet. Send Forensics and Don out here right away.”
“I’m on it, Jesse, and I’m on my way too. Have the officers start knock and talks with the neighbors.”
“Yep, and we’ll see you soon.” Ending the call, I carefully knelt near the bodies to give them a more thorough look. I was mindful to stay out of the blood that had begun to follow the grout lines between the tiles. The positions of both bodies told me the shooter was in the kitchen facing them while they sat at the table. Poker cards spread out indicated the brothers were playing the game and didn’t know what Cruz was about to do.
Frank scratched his head as he took a spot at my side. “Blindside?”
“Looks that way.” I pushed off my knee and stood. “But I wonder why. By all appearances”—I jerked my chin toward the poker cards—“it seems like a normal day. The brothers were playing cards, and the TV is still paused on a movie.”
“You think Cruz was watching TV and then took action when the right opportunity presented itself?”
“Probably.” I headed to the garage to have another look inside. Frank, Henry, and Potter joined me. “Here’s that 2008 black Caprice we couldn’t track down.”
Frank covered his hand, opened the driver’s-side door, and peered in. “No wonder we never got a hit on the BOLO. I’ll leave this to Forensics.”
Henry scooted past the car. “There’s a motorcycle in the corner too. Hear anything back from Tech on Cruz’s main vehicle?”
“Not yet”—I pulled my buzzing phone from my pocket—“but it looks like we’re about to find out. McCord here. What have you got, Todd?” I jerked my head at the men. Somebody needed to write down what Tech was about to tell me. “Sure, go ahead. A 2017 burgundy Cadillac Escalade. Good enough. You already told Lutz, right? Okay, then he’s taken care of the BOLO. Thanks, Todd.”
I hung up and pressed the button on the wall with my sleeve. As soon as the garage door lifted, I stepped outside. There weren’t any outbuildings to concern ourselves with, so I walked to the mailbox and pulled open the door—empty. I continued to the cruiser and grabbed the box of gloves and booties from the trunk and returned to the residence. At an active crime scene, we didn’t need a warrant. It was time to start going through Abraham Cruz’s house.
Chapter 38
Cruz headed to the home belonging to Hal Morton’s sister. He pulled to the curb, got out, rang the bell, and waited. Moments later, the door swung open, and a disheveled-looking Hal Morton stood in front of him.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Hal whispered, then he stepped outside. “I can’t have people connected to Tina’s death coming to my sister’s house!”
A female voice called out. “Hal, who’s at the door?”
He growled in Cruz’s face. “My damn sister is here!”
“Then you better tell her something before she comes out to check for herself.”
Hal looked back inside. “It’s a coworker. I’ll just be a few minutes.” He closed the door behind him and turned to Cruz. “You’re lucky my kids aren’t home.”
“Cool your jets and come with me.”
“Where?”
“I have a message from Maria in my SUV. She wanted me to give it to you personally.”
Hal swore under his breath. “I’ll lead the way. I don’t want anybody seeing me get into that hard-to-miss vehicle of yours.”
“Suit yourself. Go somewhere private, then.”
After digging into his pocket, Hal fished out his keys, then he walked to his car sitting in the driveway. “There’s a park about a half mile from here. Follow me.”
Cruz returned to his Escalade and pulled out behind Hal then let out a relieved sigh.
You just made my job a whole lot easier, idiot.
As he drove, Cruz rifled through the console to find anything that might resemble a message on paper. His last oil change receipt was inside. He grabbed it, folded it in half, and killed the engine at the far end of the parking lot next to Hal. He quickly exited the Escalade and went to the driver’s window before Hal had a chance to get out.
“I have what Maria wrote right here. There’s no point in me sticking around.”
Cruz waved the paper in his left hand as he slowly reached around to his waistband, where the pistol was still tucked. Hal’s eyes focused on the slip of paper, and he didn’t see it coming. A short crack, no louder than the sound of a BB gun, filled the air for a split second, and Hal slumped sideways in the seat. He was hit nearly point blank in the temple. Cruz look
ed around—nobody in sight—then opened the car door with his sleeve, raised the window, and removed the suppressor from the gun. The stolen pistol wasn’t registered to him and wouldn’t be that much of a loss. He had others. He wiped it down then pressed it into Hal’s left hand and closed the car door. When he was found, everyone would think Hal Morton had killed himself because he was involved with the murder of his wife. His career was in shambles, anyway, and he would likely go back to jail sooner or later. He’d be convicted of murder along with the rest of them. Cruz snapped a picture of Hal and returned to his vehicle.
Sending a quick text to John with both pictures proved he’d done what was asked of him. His short note said only, “It’s done.”
Cruz turned off the locations on his phone, even though it was a burner. He wasn’t about to take any chances.
A return text came seconds later. “Good job. Where are the bodies?”
Cruz had to think fast. Saying the wrong thing to John Vance could absolutely seal his fate. If the Vasquez boys were disposable, he was sure his own life didn’t mean much either.
Conway can’t be trusted. He’ll do anything to save his own skin, and for all I know, he’s already told the cops where I live. What can I tell him that he’ll be happy with?
Cruz fired off a text telling John that all three men would be dumped deep into the woods some fifty miles away. He said they were in the back of his SUV and he was driving there at that moment. His phone buzzed again.
“Good, send me another pic after you’ve tossed them in the dump site.”
“Shit! Why won’t he leave me alone?” Cruz responded that he would. It was time to ditch his phone and the Escalade then head south. He needed a different car, and he knew exactly where to get one.
Chapter 39
I looked over my shoulder and saw Lutz step on the broken front door and enter the house. He walked toward us.
Staring down at the men, he slid his hands over his balding head. “Run me through everything, Jesse.”
I nodded at the bloody bodies. “Mauricio and Antonio Vasquez, each shot through the chest and head. From how the scene appears, they weren’t expecting it. The head shots, I believe, were because Cruz wanted to make sure they were dead before he fled the area.”
Lutz cursed. “We finally found the Vasquez brothers, but they sure as hell aren’t talking.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “Nope, they sure aren’t.”
“Anything from the neighbors?” Lutz gave each of us a glance.
“I’ll ask the officers where they are with the knock and talks.” Henry crossed over the broken door just as Don Lawry, the Cook County coroner, arrived.
“Don.”
“Gentlemen. Those are the Vasquez brothers, huh?”
I spoke up. “Their faces, minus the blood, match the mug shot photos of them, so yes, I’d say it’s a positive ID on both. They couldn’t have been killed much more than a half hour or so before we arrived. Both bodies were still warm to the touch when we got here, and the blood was still pooling under them.”
“Okay. I’ll need a little room to work. Mike and Danny are a few minutes out.”
Lutz nodded. “Thanks, Don. We’ll back out of your way.” Lutz turned to Frank and me. “Have you started going through the house?”
“We were just about to begin when you got here. I’d like Henry and Shawn to pitch in since we’ll get it done twice as fast with their help. We have the names Maria gave us and know what we’re looking for.”
“Sure, go ahead. See what Henry found out with the officers too.”
I walked outside and shielded my eyes. The sun was bright, and with all the curtains drawn indoors, it seemed like we were in a cave. As I peered down the street, Henry and the officers were heading toward me.
“Learn anything?”
Jefferson slapped the air. “Nothing of value. Seems like the neighbors keep to themselves. The only person that knew anything about Abraham Cruz was the guy across the street, and that’s only because they talk on occasion at their mailboxes.”
“What did he know?”
“The usual, which won’t help us because it’s bullshit. Cruz told him he was a salesman for pharmaceuticals and he was often on the road. Said he was part of the Mexican Army years back.”
“Actually, that information might be true and helpful. We need to find out if he has dual citizenship and if he did serve. As far as being a drug salesman? He just told us what his role is for Vance. The noose is getting tighter and it’s just a matter of finding out what players are left.” I pointed at Henry. “Make sure TSA is alerted in case Cruz tries to board a plane. Have Border Patrol flag his passports, too, unless we find them in the house. It’s time to tear this place apart.”
Chapter 40
“Have you made our travel arrangements?” John walked out to the patio to find Curt tapping away on the computer.
“It’s all done, and the rental car is on hold. We cross back into the US and pick up the car using our new driver’s licenses that say we’re Donald Hendricks and Morgan Allen.” He rolled his eyes. “Seriously stupid names if you ask me.”
“The names don’t matter at the moment. We’ll get back to Chicago and do away with Cruz first, and then we’ll enjoy the time we spend with Detective McCord. Cruz said he took care of Hal Morton and the Vasquez brothers. Here, look at the pictures he sent.” John took a seat, opened the gallery, and handed his phone to Curt. “Spread the pics so you can see the full effect.” He smiled as Curt studied the pictures. “Nice work, right? Too bad Abraham will be next.”
Curt handed the phone to John. “Where did he dump the bodies?”
“He’s sending more pictures after the bodies have settled into their final resting places. Somewhere fifty miles or so out of the city, he said.” John scrolled through his phone’s contact list.
“Who are you looking for?”
“Jared Bell, of course. You mentioned how Conway and Maria were the most dangerous and impossible to get to because they’re in jail. Well, my brother, that isn’t true. Attorney Bell is entitled to private visits with them. Attorney-client privilege, you know.”
A wide grin spread across Curt’s face. “What do you have in mind?”
“I’m thinking a little contraband can’t hurt. I’ll make all the arrangements, and the money I’ll offer Attorney Bell… Well, let’s just say it’ll be too good to refuse.”
Chapter 41
We methodically cleared each room before moving on to the next. Every drawer, closet, cabinet, and box was searched, and every piece of paper was read. We flipped mattresses, went through clothing pockets, and looked under rugs and behind hanging pictures.
We didn’t find his passports, which told me Cruz was probably heading south, but he wouldn’t get beyond Border Patrol.
The usual paperwork filled his three-drawer file cabinet, but it was nothing that concerned us. Three thousand dollars remained in his checking account, and if he didn’t want to leave a trail, he would stick to cash. I was sure the amount of money he had would keep him under the radar for a while. Our only hope was to catch him trying to get past TSA security, the border, or by using a credit card. I didn’t have faith that he’d be caught because of the BOLO on his vehicle. Criminal Handbook 101 instructed people on the run to always ditch their vehicle as soon as possible.
The only names we’d found written down belonged to Mauricio, Antonio, Conway, and Hal Morton, once again confirming that they were all connected. I tapped my finger on the scratch pad containing those names.
“Something on your mind, Jesse?” Lutz looked over my shoulder.
“Yeah, sort of, I guess. Conway is in jail, thanks to Frank connecting the dots and Maria’s list of names. Mauricio and Antonio are dead. So where does that leave Hal?”
Lutz rubbed his chin. “He was in jail, so maybe nowhere until we actually connect him to Tina’s murder. Maria is going to have to say he was involved in the plot, or he’ll remain a fre
e man. Right now, it’s too circumstantial. We’ve only got one chance to make a conviction stick, and the district attorney won’t prosecute unless we have more.”
“Hal obviously knows all these players. Maybe I should pay him another visit and ask whatever I want now that he isn’t in jail and could lawyer up.”
“Sure, give it a shot and take Mills with you. I know he’s dying for a cigarette. I’ll probably head back to the station and let the crime lab and Don finish their work here. If the warrant for Conway’s apartment has arrived, I’ll send some officers that way. I’ll let you know, and you guys can swing over there when you’re done with Morton.”
Frank and I walked the driveway to the road then back to our cruiser. He was already on his second cigarette by the time we reached the car doors.
“Put that out before you get inside.”
He frowned at me. “I just lit it.”
I stood my ground, but he did too.
“Fine,” I said. “Let’s discuss the case outside until you’ve smoked that thing to the filter.”
He leaned against the front quarter panel and took a deep drag. “The Vasquez family is going to be pissed off and out for blood when they get the news. Three men from that family have died in the last twenty-four hours.”
I shrugged. “They’re a family of criminals. What else would they expect? Do you really think they’d want more bloodshed?”
Frank raised a brow. “Hell yeah. That’s what crime families do. An eye for an eye.”
I stared at Frank’s cigarette. “Come on. Let’s go, and make sure you’ve completely squashed that out before you walk away.”
He blew out the last puff of smoke, shredded the butt with the toe of his shoe, then climbed in behind the wheel. “Do you have the sister’s address?”
“Yep, right in my notepad.” I reached into my inner pocket, pulled it out, and flipped pages until I found the address for Carla Reed. “Here we go.” I programmed it into my phone’s GPS, and we took off.
