COLLATERAL CASUALTIES (The Kate Huntington mystery series) (14 page)

BOOK: COLLATERAL CASUALTIES (The Kate Huntington mystery series)
2.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

            “What the hell are you doing?”

            “I’m not giving the cops my granddaddy’s pearl-handled pistol. I didn’t fire it, but they’re gonna want to take my gun and test it. This is the piece I keep in my desk.”

            “Actually I hear them coming so you might want to put the gun down.” The words were no sooner out of Rose’s mouth than two officers came through the fire door at the top of the stairs. Their guns were drawn. “Don’t move, mister,” one of them yelled.

            “I’m the victim, officers. I’m going to slowly stoop down now and put my gun on the floor.” The older of the two uniforms nodded. Skip bent his knees to place the bloody revolver beside the doorframe.

            “One of the two men who attacked me is in my office there. He’s dead. The other one got away. His buddy is the one who shot him, not me.”

            “Move away from the gun, sir,” the senior officer said.

            Skip complied. Both he and Rose kept their hands where the officers could see them. The younger one moved toward the doorway to look into Skip’s office.

            “I’m Rose Hernandez,” Rose said. “This is my partner, Skip Canfield. We own this agency. I saw the one who got away run out of the building as I was approaching.”

            The senior officer acknowledged the nod from his partner. “Secure the outer door of the building ’til the detectives get here.”

            He turned back to Rose as he holstered his gun. “Hernandez. You used to be with BCPD?”

            “Yup. Went private a few years ago. More money, less bullshit.”

            The cop smiled. “Bill Lindsey and I partnered for awhile. He mentioned you a few times.”

            “Oh yeah. He and I used to catch a beer after shift. Tell him Rose says hey.”

            “Will do.” He took out a notepad and asked Skip to repeat what had happened.

            “Guy who got away musta been shooting at you and got his buddy by mistake,” he said when Skip had finished.

            “I don’t think so, officer,” Skip said. “My sense was he wasn’t leaving anybody behind who could ID him, or whoever he’s working for.”

            The cop snorted. “Doubt he’s working for anybody. Just a couple of thugs looking for somethin’ to steal.”

            “Let’s refrain from jumping to conclusions, officer,” a female voice said from behind him.

~~~~~~~

            An unbecoming shade of red crept up the uniform’s face as a tall, thin woman with a cap of short dark hair stepped around him. “Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled.

            The woman was wearing a white tailored shirt and snug black slacks. A gold badge and holstered gun were clipped to her belt. Her only jewelry was a man-sized gold watch and small gold rings in her ears.

            Avoiding the pool of blood, she leaned through the doorway to get a look at the victim. “Don’t see too many thieves wearing business suits,” she observed.

            “No, ma’am,” the uniform answered, standing at attention.

            “You got here fast, Detective Anderson,” Skip said.

            The detective turned. The light shifted in her eyes as she recognized him. “Canfield, right?”

            “Yes, ma’am. You’ve got a good memory.”

            She arched an eyebrow at him. “What’d you shoot this guy with?”

            Skip shook his head. “I didn’t shoot him. His buddy did. Guy’s gun looked like a .45. Only got a brief glimpse of it though. The dead one’s gun is on the floor somewhere. I knocked it out of his hand, then grabbed him as a shield. Told the other guy to drop his gun. He shot his buddy instead and took off.”

            “Guy was coming out as I was coming in,” Rose said. “About five-seven or eight, Hispanic, black hair, medium build. Also wearing a suit. Didn’t look all that scared. Ignored me when I yelled at him to stop, even though he’d seen my gun.”

            “Detective Anderson, this is my partner, Rose Hernandez,” Skip said.

            The detective shook Rose’s hand, then pointed to the gun on the floor. “That yours?” she asked Skip.

            “Yup. But I didn’t fire it.”

            “Got any idea who these guys were?” Anderson asked.

            Rose caught his eye and shook her head slightly.

            Skip hesitated. Judith Anderson was Dolph Randolph’s former partner and, according to Dolph, she was a top-notch detective. Plus she’d helped them out with a previous case. He hated to lie to her, but Rose was probably right. The police mucking around in this mess would no doubt make things worse, if that was possible.

            “Nope. Best of my knowledge I haven’t annoyed anybody lately, other than my wife.”

            “No pissed-off husband you caught shacking up with his honey and now his wife’s divorcing him?”

            “We don’t do adultery cases,” Rose said.

            A middle-aged man in rumpled slacks and sports jacket came tearing through the stairway door. His rust-colored hair, liberally sprinkled with gray, was standing straight up in places. He raced toward them. “You guys okay? What happened? I had a helluva time convincing the uniform on the door to let me come up here.”

            When he saw his former partner, Dolph froze. “Aw, shit! Who’s dead?”

            “It’s a pleasure to see you too, Dolph,” the detective said.

            “Sorry, Judith. How are you?” the older man asked in a distracted voice, as he looked around.

            “The corpse isn’t one of ours,” Skip told him. He filled Dolph in on what had happened.

            “You sure you’re okay, son?” Dolph asked, eyeing his bloody arms.

            “It’s all the other guy’s.” Skip turned to Judith. “How soon can I get this gunk off of me?”

            “Crime scene techs and M.E. should be here any minute.”

~~~~~~~

            While Judith had Skip run through the whole event again, Rose called some of the agency’s bodyguards and sent them to Kate’s and Janice’s offices and to the house. The guards were told to be discreet but to not let their charges out of their sight. She figured the kids, who only went to school for a half-day, would be home by now. She called Maria to check on them, and to tell her what was going on.

            Two hours later, Skip was finally allowed to leave. He had showered in the agency’s locker room and donned the spare jeans and shirt he kept there. His bloody clothes had gone into an oversized evidence bag.

            They had been told that it would be morning before they could get back into their offices. As they were leaving, they overheard the medical examiner telling Judith that there was no exit wound. He suspected the bullet had lodged in the victim’s spine.

            “You were damn lucky, partner,” Rose muttered to Skip. She waited until they were outside, out of earshot of the young cop standing at parade rest by the front door of the building, to continue. “I made a couple calls while you were showering. Rob’s waiting for us at his office. Mac’s gonna meet us there.”

            “What’s this all about?” Dolph asked.

            “We need to tell him,” Rose said.

            Skip shook his head.

            “This has gone way beyond what happened to Kate’s client,” Rose said. “They’ve invaded our offices. If anybody else had been there, they would’ve killed them to get to you. Our people need to know there’s a risk.”

            Skip ran his fingers through his still damp hair. “Kate’s gonna be pissed.”

            “She’ll understand.”

            “So now you know my wife better than I do?” Skip snapped at her.

            “Don’t get pissy with me, partner.”

            Dolph had been standing, hands stuffed in his pants’ pockets, swiveling his head back and forth. “You all gonna tell me what’s goin’ on? Or are you gonna stand here and squabble awhile longer?” He cocked one bushy, mostly-gray eyebrow.

            Rose looked up into Skip’s face. She didn’t like what she saw. His jaw was clenched, his eyes muddy brown with emotion. Apparently the implications of the afternoon’s events had sunk in. Skip could handle being shot at without batting an eye, but the one thing that could make him lose his cool was a threat against his wife or family.

            In a gentle voice, Rose said, “If Kate’s pissed, it’ll be on me. Meet us at Rob’s office. Check your truck over good before you start it. And look for Hispanics hanging around Rob’s building, just in case they’re watching him now.”

            She turned on her heel. “Dolph, you’re with me. I’ll fill you in on the way.”

~~~~~~~

            Rob led Rose and Dolph down a hallway to a medium-sized conference room. Mac brought up the rear, carrying a cardboard box that he set at his feet as they settled around the table.

            Fran followed them in, a carafe of coffee and a fist full of empty mugs in her hands. “Thought maybe a few of you could use a little pick-me-up.” She tilted her head slightly toward Skip. He was sitting slumped in a chair at the opposite end of the table, his long legs stretched out to the side, staring at his feet.

            “I’ll be back with cream and sugar,” Fran said.

            “You got any more like her around here?” Rose asked. She was thinking the agency needed a Fran to run the office and, well, to take care of them.

            “Nope, she’s one of a kind,” Rob said.

            “Just have to steal her then,” Rose said.

            “You try it and I’ll break both your legs,” Rob replied good-naturedly.

            Rose snorted. “You and what army?”

            “For Fran, I’d fight to the death.” They fell silent when the subject of their banter returned with the promised cream and sugar.

            Fran poured a cup of coffee. “How’s he take it?”

            “Cream, no sugar,” Rose said.

            Fran added cream, then carried the mug down and placed it in front of Skip. He didn’t seem to notice. He was still staring morosely at the toe of his sneaker.

            “There’s blood on my shoes. Guess I should’ve given them to the M.E.,” he said, as Fran left the room, closing the door behind her.

            “I don’t think it matters, Skip. They’ve got your clothes,” Rose said.

            “What the hell are we gonna do?” Skip asked, his eyes still on his shoe.

            Rose and Dolph exchanged a worried glance. Rob caught the look and nodded at them.

            “Drink your coffee, son,” Dolph said.

            Skip looked startled to find the cup in front of him. “Thanks,” he said, not realizing the person who’d provided the coffee had left the room. He took a sip.

            “I sent Manny Ortiz to Kate’s office and a couple guys to the house,” Rose said, partly to inform the others and partly to remind Skip that everyone was safe for now.

            She’d decided on a strategy, for the meeting at least. She had no idea yet what they were going to do about the problem itself. “You’re still lead on this, Mac, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to summarize where we are.”

            Mac nodded.

            Rose got up and walked to a large pad of paper propped on an easel at one end of the room.  “Can I use this?”

            “Of course,” Rob said. “That’s what it’s for, to hash out strategies for cases.”

            Rose picked up the black marker from the tray and started writing. “What we know. One, Kate’s client was murdered. Two, the ambassador’s admitted he used to be a rebel. Three, he says he means us no harm but he doesn’t know who’s doing this. Four, Miller’s house was torched.”

            “Five,” Rob said. “The ambassador comes to my office, says somebody’s making inquiries.”

            “Number six,” Dolph said. “Two Hispanic hit men show up at Skip’s office.”

            “Seven,” Rose added. “When one of them’s caught, the other guy shoots him. Anything else that we know for sure?”

            After a moment, several heads shook.

            Mac got up. “Anybody want any coffee?” Dolph raised his hand.

            While Mac poured two mugs of coffee, Rose tore the top page off the pad and put it in the middle of the conference table. On the next page, she wrote
What We Think
.

            “Number one,” Rob said. “Ambassador Garcia may be telling the truth that he’s not behind all this.”

            Rose wrote, then added a number two. “The ambassador thinks the killer may be connected to the Colombian rebels.”

            “You didn’t tell me that,” Skip said.

            “We hadn’t gotten that far when we were interrupted. You want to fill everybody in, Rob?”

            He gave them the details of his conversation with the ambassador. “And Garcia said something else interesting. He implied that I was protected because he had told those on his staff who knew about his mistress that he was seeing me to set up a trust fund for her. Makes me think he suspects someone in the upper echelon of his staff.”

            Rose wrote the number three, then
May be staff member close to ambassador.

            “If the ambassador’s not the problem,” Mac said, “whoever’s behind this may not even know that we’ve taken out insurance.”

            “Were these guys today trying to kidnap Skip as their own insurance policy?” Rose asked as she wrote
4. Perp may not know about insurance.

            “Doubt it,” Mac said. “If that was their agenda, they would’ve picked a different place. Most likely a parking lot. I think they were s’posed to take him out.”

            “Maybe they were going to use Skip’s death as an example,” Rose said. “Contact Kate and say the kids would be next if she didn’t get Rob to get the envelopes back.”

            “Okay, so one of the things we think,” Dolph said, “if these guys know about the insurance policy, is that they’re not taking it lying down. They’re trying to come up with a way to cancel out the threat that the ambassador’s real identity will be revealed if anything happens to Skip or Kate.”

BOOK: COLLATERAL CASUALTIES (The Kate Huntington mystery series)
2.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Price of Candy by Rod Hoisington
The Shortstop by A. M. Madden
Underground Warrior by Evelyn Vaughn
Collected Stories by Willa Cather
The Little Friend by Donna Tartt