by C. M. Sutter
Lutz shook his head. “Last night made more sense under the cover of darkness. Why didn’t they strike then?”
None of us had a response other than the probability of them having grabbed a hotel room for the night.
“I told Jared to hold out one more day. Separating him from his wife and kids just gives the Vance brothers more options.”
Bob nodded as he stood to leave. “So the best excuse to give the chief is what?” He looked directly at me.
“That the plan is still going forward. We’ll have units positioned at Bell’s workplace and at his house. If the Vance brothers are sighted, the officers can take them down by any means necessary. We can still use the cover that the stakeout was for Cruz so we don’t get a beatdown from the FBI.”
Lutz blew out a long breath and patted the doorframe before walking out. “Okay, keep me updated. I’ll call Abrams and get those patrol units put in place.”
After our boss left the bull pen, I squeezed my temples. “He’s pissed and now has to make up a BS story for the chief.”
Potter smirked. “He’s a big boy and will get over it. He’s been on the force long enough to know nothing ever goes according to plan.”
I had to agree and let go of the guilt that weighed me down. “Maybe we should go ahead with that BOLO. This isn’t a pissing match between the Feds and us. What’s most important is getting those maniacs off the street and behind bars.”
“Let’s give it a few hours, partner,” Frank said. “They aren’t going to get close enough to hurt anyone, so let’s see how it plays out.”
Chapter 65
They sat at the small table in the corner of their motel room. John poured coffee from the four-cup carafe into two Styrofoam cups. Earlier, he’d brought up an assortment of sweet rolls and a stack of bacon from the Continental breakfast.
“I’ve got a plan to draw Bell out,” he said as he tore off a bite of the glazed doughnut.
Curt’s eyebrows lifted higher. “Good, let’s hear it.”
“I promised him a hundred thousand bucks for killing Maria Vasquez and Mark Conway, and I’m sure he’s itching to get it. He needs that money to maintain his law firm. I’ve done some checking, and there’s a Western Union location on East Fifty-Third Street, and it’s halfway between Bell’s office and McCord’s house. I’m going to call Jared and say I’m wiring the money to his bank, but he has to go to that branch, show proof of his identity, and sign the transfer documents first.”
Curt took a sip of coffee. “Think he’ll fall for it?”
John popped a piece of bacon into his mouth and the right side of his lip curled up. “He’s an attorney, not a genius.”
“Right. So then what?”
“We’ll be waiting there for him at the Western Union location, follow him back to wherever he’s holed up, and kill him and his precious family. That’ll leave McCord for later.”
Curt shook his head. “That won’t work. As soon as the police get word that we’ve taken out Bell, McCord will be expecting you. We won’t get within a mile of him. It’ll all be for nothing if we don’t have the chance to kill that piece of shit detective too.”
“Fine.” John blew over his coffee and took a gulp. “Then it’s on to plan B.”
Chapter 66
My cell phone rang at ten thirty. I fished it out of the inner pocket of my jacket that hung on my chairback, then I looked at the screen—it was Jared Bell.
“Now what?”
Frank glanced in my direction. “Something wrong?”
“Guess I’m about to find out. Jared’s family must be getting restless.” I swiped the screen and answered. “Detective McCord speaking.”
A pissed-off voice sounded on the other end. “Detective McCord, it’s Jared Bell.”
“I assumed so. What’s up? Kids getting bored with swimming and video games?”
“No. I got a call from Vance earlier.”
I sat up straight and grabbed a pen and paper. Jared had my full attention. “What the hell did he want?”
“He said he was wiring that hundred thousand bucks to me. He needed my banking information and told me to go to the Western Union office on East Fifty-Third Street to sign for the transfer.”
I wrote as fast as I could while he ranted on the phone. “Yeah, and?”
“And the transfer never came through. That son of a bitch was playing me.”
“Jared, you do know he never intended to pay you, right? His only intentions were to kill you, hence us keeping you and your family safe at the hotel. Where are you now?”
“Pulling back into the hotel parking lot, and I’m steaming mad.”
“Jesus! Look in your rearview mirror. Do you see a burgundy Porsche Panamera 4 Sport Turismo following you?”
“What? I don’t even know what that is or what you’re talking about.”
“Jared, listen to me closely! Do not get out of your car. Vance is in Chicago, and he’s likely tailing you as we speak! That was a setup to see where you’d go, so get the hell out of there now and drive to our station.”
“You can’t be serious! What about Elizabeth and my kids?”
“Do as I say now or you’ll be dead and never see them again, anyway. I’m sending detectives to the hotel, so stay off the phone unless it’s me. Now do it!” I hung up and leapt from my chair. “Everyone get over to Jared’s hotel. Vance knows where he’s staying, meaning his family is in danger. Lock that place down and secure his wife and kids.”
Frank grabbed his holster and badge. “I’ll drive.”
“No, I’m going home and getting Bandit out of the house. I know what Vance is capable of, and I’m not going to put my dog in harm’s way again. John will be coming after me next, so I need to be prepared. I told Jared to head here, and I’ll let Lutz know. Now hurry up and go. Get Bell’s family in protective custody!”
I raced down the hallway to Lutz’s office. I had only a minute or two to spare and paraphrased everything. “Boss, Vance is on the move. He’s likely following Bell, so I told Jared to come here. The troops are heading to the hotel to make sure his wife and kids are safe.” I bolted from his office.
“Wait, Jesse! Where are you going?”
“Home. I need to keep Bandit safe, so I’m taking him to Dean’s house. Vance will be coming after me next. Frank and the guys can head my way after the Bell family is secure. Now, I have to go!”
I raced through the hallway to our rear exit—it was faster. Down the steps and around the building took me to the side lot where we parked our personal cars. After diving in behind the wheel, I ripped through the gears as I peeled out onto the street. I had nine stoplights to get through, and I hoped that every one of them was green or yellow. Unless I saw bright red, I wasn’t slowing down or stopping.
My eighteen-minute drive took only thirteen—I was lucky with the lights. I hit the button to raise the garage door before I even reached my driveway, then I killed the engine and jumped out of the car. Inside the house, I found my unsuspecting dog stepping off the couch to investigate the noise.
“Hey, buddy, how ya doing?” I knelt at Bandit’s side and embraced him. “Want to go play with Jackson?” Bandit’s tail began to wag double time. “Okay, let’s go.” I grabbed his leash, snapped it to his collar, and stuffed a handful of treats into my pocket. We crossed the yard to Dean’s front door, and I knocked.
Seconds later, I heard Jackson’s bark and Dean’s footsteps heading our way. He pulled open the door, and a look of surprise and confusion covered his face.
“Jesse? Was I supposed to—”
“No, no, you didn’t forget anything but I need your help, Dean.”
His eyes darted left and right out the door, then he ushered us in. “Come inside. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing yet, but I don’t want to take any chances. I’m expecting trouble, and I want Bandit to be safe. You know what those people have done to him before.”
He looked from me to Bandit. “Hell yeah I do. Wha
t do you need?”
“Just keep Bandit here, that’s all, and lock your doors. Don’t go out, not even into the backyard until I return. Can you do that for me?”
“Of course, but what about you? I know what they’ve done to you in the past as well.”
“I’ll be waiting. No sneak attacks this time. The troops will be arriving before long, and we’ll be one step ahead of the bad guys. I’ve got to go. Just lock up and don’t come out. I’m so sorry to bring this to our neighborhood, but hopefully, it’ll all end today.”
Giving Dean a firm handshake of gratitude, and Bandit another embrace, I raced to my house and lowered the garage door at my back. Inside, I positioned myself at the best possible place—my living room. With my service weapon and two other handguns at my side and ready to fire, I took a seat and waited.
Chapter 67
Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I looked over the array of guns at my side. I was ready for the Vance brothers.
Damn it, where’s my phone?
I stood and dug through my pockets—nothing. I looked on the kitchen counter—not there. The realization came over me that I’d probably left it in my car when I raced inside to get Bandit. I headed to the front door and stopped dead in my tracks. The screen on the monitor next to my TV was black.
What the hell?
I raced down the hall to my bedroom. That monitor was dark too. Black screens on both couldn’t be a coincidence. The brothers had arrived and cut the camera feed from the box leading into the house. I was literally in the dark as far as seeing where they were, and I couldn’t call for help. Back in the living room, I dimmed the lights and peered out between the slats in the blinds. I didn’t see anyone or the Porsche they’d been driving. I ran to the kitchen and closed the blinds over the sink. Ever so slightly, I moved one of the vertical blind slats on the patio doors and looked out over the deck—nobody.
Are they really here, or is it just a malfunction with the system? Damn it, I have to know.
I tiptoed from room to room and looked out every window but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. I was sure my imagination was getting the best of me. They weren’t there, so I still had time to run out and grab my phone.
With one more glance at the monitor, I walked to the door. With my hand on the knob and about to turn it, I heard a sound outside that made me freeze in place. Somebody was on the porch. There was no denying it. After slinking back to the window, I peeked out, but the shrubs blocked my view. I couldn’t see anything at the door.
Shit! My doorbell app is on my phone. How am I supposed to see who’s sneaking around at the door?
I squeezed my eyes closed as I tried to think.
“Wait! My tablet is synced to my phone. I’ll be able to see the doorbell camera view on there.”
I pulled open the top bookcase drawer, grabbed my tablet, and powered it up. I pressed my ear against the door and listened again. It was quiet. Lifting the slat slightly on the living room blinds, I looked out and saw nothing.
Damn it. I need the upper hand with those two, or I won’t have a fighting chance. They have to be armed as well as me, or better.
Glancing back at my tablet, I saw that there was only a sliver of battery power left. “Come on. Give me a break here.” I rifled through the drawer again and found the charger. I plugged in the tablet and fired up the doorbell camera app. Seconds later, the front porch and beyond came into view. Cars were passing by, and then, slinking along the wall and coming to the door was Curt. His hair was different—darker and likely dyed as a way to disguise his identity—but I knew it was him. He couldn’t change his face. I whispered my disgust. “You son of a bitch. Now where is your piece of shit brother?”
I tiptoed closer to the door, and my ears perked at the sound only a foot in front of me. Looking at the doorknob, I saw it turning. It was my only chance to catch him off guard. I needed both hands to pull him off balance and slam the door behind him. I holstered my gun and prayed things would work out in my favor, then I slowly turned the dead bolt and yanked the door inward.
Curt stumbled forward and fell to his knees which gave me just enough time to close the door and lock it. I saw the pistol in his hand as he got his feet beneath him, but I kicked it before he could get a bead on me, and it spun across the tiled entryway. Curt leapt to his feet and swung. I ducked and delivered a blow to his jaw. Rushing me, he shouldered me into the door and pressed his hefty forearm across my throat. I stomped his foot with everything I had. He was an equal match or better and likely had thirty pounds on me—and another few inches in height. With only a second before he regained his composure, I swung and connected with his nose. Blood sprayed across his face and speckled the wall. Curt charged me again, and we crashed into the foyer table at my back. We both went down hard.
I heard the front door being kicked, and it wouldn’t be long before John broke through. I found myself behind Curt with only a second to react before he overpowered me. With my arm around his neck, keeping him in a choke hold, I squeezed with all my might.
The crashing sound at the patio slider caught me by surprise. Glass blew inward and covered a good fifteen feet of the floor, even with the vertical blinds drawn. The elder Vance stormed in and was headed my way. I had just enough time to draw my gun.
“Not another step! Drop your weapon, or I’ll shoot Curt right here, right now!”
John laughed as he continued toward me. “You won’t kill an unarmed man in cold blood. You’re a cop!”
“I said to stop and drop the weapon, now!”
Curt grunted out to John. “Just kill him. Shoot the son of a bitch in the head.”
“You’re in the way, brother, but I’m not backing down. You killed Jake, McCord, and you deserve to die!”
“After you.”
John looked at me and then at Curt. I could see his wheels spinning, and he was about to make a move. I held the barrel of my gun against Curt’s temple, wishing that our plan had played out last night.
“You wearing a vest, cop?”
I remained steadfast, with my arm cutting off Curt’s air supply and I felt him losing strength against me.
John tipped his head and smiled. “I take the fact that you didn’t respond as a no.” He looked at Curt again. “Sorry, bro, but it’s every man for himself. I have to do right by Jake, even if it’s at your expense.”
I yelled out, but it was over within a second. John had blown a hole right through his brother’s heart, and the slug hit my vest. I felt like I had been punched by a heavyweight boxer. I had less than a second to react as he put the bead on me. I pulled the trigger and shot him center mass. John Vance crashed to the floor like a boat anchor. Pushing Curt’s dead body off me, I got to my feet, still sucking in much-needed air, and rushed John. I kicked the gun away and stood over him with my gun pointing at his head.
Muttering something about me being a piece of shit, he gasped and gurgled a few times as blood seeped out of his mouth. His movements stopped, his eyes remained open and fixed, and his body went limp. I knelt, put my fingers against his neck, and felt for a pulse—there wasn’t one. Both Vance brothers lay dead on my living room floor. I sat on the couch and took in what had just happened. They were larger than life and evil to the core, but as I stared at their bodies, they were just dead criminals. I was glad it was over. They would never run a drug cartel or kill again and they’d gotten what they deserved. I stood, still shaking, and walked outside. The neighborhood looked as peaceful and safe as it had prior to last week. We would get to that place again; I’d make sure of it. I stumbled to the car and picked up my phone from the cup holder, then I called Lutz.
Chapter 68
I took the next two days off of work. My body was sore, but I also needed my house repaired. A cleaning crew came in and, with a special solution, was able to remove the bloodstains from my hardwood floors. Another crew came in, replaced my patio door, and patched the holes in the drywall from the fight between Curt and me.
It was Wednesday morning when I walked into the bull pen again and was greeted with a round of applause.
I swatted the air. “Okay, okay, knock it off.”
Henry chewed on a muffin then grinned. “All in a day’s work, right, Jesse?”
I shook my head. “Not quite, but all you losers were busy chasing ghosts. I’m pretty sure the whole going-after-Jared was a ruse used by John to divert everyone away from me. I’ll admit, I fell for it hook, line, and sinker.” When Lutz walked in, I glanced at the clock. He met me with a hug and a handshake. “That was a good shoot, Detective McCord.”
I grimaced with the memory, still fresh in my mind. “It was the only option I had.”
“I know. Good news for our team. I just got off the last call, I hope, with the FBI. I explained how, in hindsight, we realized the Morton murder was tied to Vance through his associates, but we didn’t know they had returned to Chicago until they showed up at your door. You had no choice but to defend yourself on your own turf. They seemed to accept that as a plausible answer and agreed to let it go. In reality, I think they knew how little information they had gathered in the last week and didn’t want the bad press.”
Potter spoke up. “So what happens to Maria Vasquez and Mark Conway now?”
“Same as before,” Lutz said. “Their arraignment is over, and they’re sitting in county lockup until they have their day in court. I’m guessing they’ll both be looking at a five-year minimum behind bars, but that depends on how well Jared Bell does his job. There’s nobody left alive that can testify against them, and neither of them actually committed Tina Morton’s murder.”
Frank huffed. “The only smart man that’s still standing is Abraham Cruz, and he’s gone underground.”
Lutz huffed, and we all put eyes on him.
I rearranged myself in the chair to face our boss. “What?”
“Maybe he’s going to take over the cartel.”
We all groaned.
My cell phone rang in my jacket pocket. I fished it out and swiped the screen. “Jesse McCord speaking. Uh-huh, tomorrow? I completely forgot. No, why don’t we go ahead and cancel that appointment. I think I’m okay now.”
