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Authors: Janice Cantore

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BOOK: Avenged
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14

“WHAT?”
Carly set her taco down and pushed the plate away. Londy was serious, and she assumed Victor was too.

“Victor copies everything Crusher does. Even when Crusher wouldn’t let him, he followed him around. He saw Crusher talking with some dudes.”

“Back up, Londy. When was this?”

“About a week before he was shot. Victor says Crusher left the house late at night, and he followed him to the train. They both got on and rode to where it ends at the transit mall. Then Crusher walked down to Seaside, to where there’s a building all fenced off. I figure he meant the Bluestone. Anyway, he squeezed through a hole in the fence and Victor followed. Crusher was all by himself; he didn’t even have
Rojo with him. He met these guys who gave him drugs to sell. Victor heard one of them tell Crusher he didn’t want Trey or anyone knowing. And he heard the guy asking if he was sure no one knew he was coming to the meeting.”

“Did Victor tell you what the guy looked like?”

Londy nodded and then shifted in his chair, all of a sudden looking uncomfortable. “There were three guys, all white dudes. One dude never said anything, and Victor didn’t get a very good look at him. The other two . . . well, one had a beard and the third . . .”

“What, Londy? What did the other guy look like?”

“You know how in the Bible it says not to falsely accuse people? I didn’t see this; I’m just saying what Victor said. The third guy . . . well, Victor said he was ugly, that his face was scarred and his ear half–chewed off. That could be Mr. Barton’s brother.”

Carly brought a hand to her mouth, as much from shock as to keep from saying something she shouldn’t. That Dean Barton could be giving kids drugs to sell didn’t surprise her. That there was a possibility he killed two kids did. But she had to stop. What if this was just wishful thinking on her part? She thought of the man who’d been waiting for Barton at the white van the first night she saw him. He had a beard, and she remembered now that he’d looked familiar. But she hadn’t really gotten a good look at him.

She changed her line of questioning. “Why does Victor think these guys who were giving his brother drugs are the same ones who shot him?”

“Because they shot Rojo and D., too. Victor thinks Crusher told Rojo and D. something he wasn’t supposed to and the white dudes shot them all.”

Carly considered his logic, or rather the logic Londy was relating that came from a ten-year-old boy.
Why would these men pick someone like Crusher from the Ninjas in Las Playas to sell drugs for them and then insist it be kept secret from the rest of the gang? And then when Crusher lets something slip, they shoot three gang members? It’s plausible they’d try to cover up the murder by making it look like a gang shooting. But in covering it up, they also wanted to start a gang war?
She rubbed her temples. None of this made sense. She was missing something important.

Lunch turned into an interview as Carly grilled Londy for every bit of information he’d gotten from Victor.

“Did Victor say how long Crusher knew these guys?” Carly struggled to remember her last contact with Crusher and realized he’d been under the radar for a while, maybe two or three months.

“I asked him that. He said Crusher’s been squirrelly for about a month—you know, disappearing till early in the morning, then showing up with cash. He gave Victor an iPod Touch. Only Victor can’t show it to his mom ’cause she don’t want nothing in the house that was bought with drug money.”

“How did Crusher meet them?”

Londy shook his head. “Don’t know. Victor says he tried a couple of times to follow Crusher and got caught or ditched.”

Carly finished her Diet Coke and thought for a minute. “Someone from gangs will have to talk to him,” she told Londy.

“He don’t like police. He won’t talk. He wants to take Crusher’s place in the gang, thinks it will make him a man.”

Carly knew thinking like that was prevalent in Victor’s neighborhood. And she remembered his attitude when she had him in the back of the patrol car.

“We’ve both tried to talk to him,” Mary Ellen spoke up. She’d been so quiet Carly had almost forgotten she was there. “I’ve spent time with his two sisters. But the gang call is so strong for Victor. He thinks it’s his job to get revenge for Crusher. It’s very sad.”

“Sounds like you both have spent a lot of time with the family.”

Heads nodded. “We want Crusher to wake up,” Londy said.

“We have his little brothers and sisters write letters—you know, about what’s going on in their lives,” Mary Ellen continued. “As soon as we can, we want to read the letters to him.”

“They’ll let you in to read to him?”

“Yeah,” Londy said. “His mom gave us permission. We’re both over eighteen, so since Tuesday we’ve been able to visit and talk to him. We pray, too. This morning I asked him to squeeze my hand and I think he did. He’ll wake up soon; I know it.” He cast a glance at Mary Ellen, who was watching him with undisguised affection.

Carly processed their look. She certainly hadn’t seen that coming.

“We think God will heal Crusher. He’s alive for a reason,” Mary Ellen said. “He’ll wake up. And I bet he’ll tell us who shot him.”

Her tone was full of youthful optimism. But Carly remembered the shooting scene, remembered how she’d had to stop Crusher’s bleeding, and was hard-pressed to muster the same optimism.

•••

After Carly dropped Londy and Mary Ellen off, she parked and called Peter Harris in homicide. She wanted to call Nick and almost punched in his number, but he was working with the feds and she didn’t want to interrupt whatever they were doing.

Harris was in, and he listened while she relayed what Londy told her.

“I remember Victor,” he said. “Londy is right; he doesn’t like cops. He took the shooting the hardest, really wants to be his brother’s avenger. We’ll go back out there and talk to him, but I doubt he’ll tell us what he told Londy. But you should know that we just had a bomb threat callout.”

“What?”

“At your coffee shop, Half Baked. Bomb guys rolled out there about an hour ago.”

•••

Carly rushed to the coffee shop, only to be stopped a block away. Barriers surrounded the large black van used as the
command post and kept traffic off Broadway. She leaned out of her car window and spoke to the officer at the barrier.

“They evacuated this far out?”

He nodded. “It was the real deal, not some bogus, fake device. One of the coffee shop owners found a bomb wired to the safe in the office. I think it’s all code 4 now. There’s just some cleanup left. I can’t let you drive in until I get the all clear, but if you want to walk to the command post, I’m sure that would be okay.”

She thanked him and parked her car. The command post was a block away from Apex Court, and Carly saw Ned and Erika standing outside. There were also several agents with
ATF
in big yellow letters across their jackets milling around.

“Hey,” she called out to Ned.

He saw her. “Carly, thanks for coming by.”

“What happened?”

Ned and Erika exchanged a glance. “I found the device,” Ned said. “I worked in bomb disposal in the service, so I knew immediately what it was.”

“It would have taken out the whole shop,” Erika said, grabbing Ned’s hand. “Ned’s not the one who usually opens the safe. If I had . . .” Her voice thickened and she stopped.

Carly folded her arms, stunned. “First the newspaper stand, now this. What? Who?”

“It was Dean; I know it.” Erika spit the words out.

“That would be my guess as well, but we can’t prove it,” Ned said with a heavy sigh.

“You told the bomb guys?”

“Yeah, even though part of me knows it was him, another part of me can’t believe it. We had a falling-out the other day, right after I told you we were working things out. We’ve had our differences, but I’d really hoped Dean had changed.” He shook his head sadly. “Obviously not if he was trying to murder me and anyone else in close proximity. And in Iraq, there was always a secondary device, so I asked the bomb guys to do a thorough inspection of the entire area. I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of our feud.”

Carly thanked them for the information and then went into the command post to find Captain Jacobs.

“Is there anything you can tell me?” she asked.

He leaned back in his chair. “Well, the ATF is handling everything. Since the substance they found in the device is not commonly available, they’re certain the plastic explosive used here is part of the loss from Arizona, but a small part.”

“So there’s a lot still outstanding?”

“It’s a good thing Ned Barton was the one to try to open the safe today. He saw something off and knew exactly what it was. What they have pieced together is that someone broke into the shop early this morning and set the device. Had it gone off, the whole corner would be gone.”

“What about the alarm? The cameras?” Even as she asked, Carly knew that security systems could be circumvented.

Jacobs pointed to a diagram on the desk in front of him. “They have a camera at the back entrance, but the lens was spray-painted by someone wearing a ski mask. As for the
alarm, it was bypassed. They don’t have a state-of-the-art system; it’s just a run-of-the-mill alarm.”

“And Ned thinks his brother did this.”

“Yep. ATF is trying to find him now.”

15

BY SATURDAY MORNING
Carly had talked to everyone she could to get information on the ATF investigation into the bomb. The feds had contacted Barton, but she hadn’t heard whether or not he’d been arrested. Tired of thinking about it and talking on the phone, she took Maddie for a walk and on the way home decided it was a great day for a swim.

When she got home and changed, she turned on her handheld radio to listen to police activity in the city. She was greeted with active, nonstop radio traffic. Her pulse sped a bit. Something big was going on. Was it more gang stuff or something related to the bomb?

The phone rang just as she figured out that there’d been a shooting in the new marina.

Joe was on caller ID.

“Hey, Joe, how are you doing?”

“Good, Carly, good. Knee surgery is scheduled for next week. But that’s not why I called. Are you following the shooting?”

“I just turned the radio on. Do you know the details?”

“Yeah, I heard a blurb on the news radio and I called dispatch. The Oceans First people hit the new marina from the ocean side.”

“What?”

“They launched a couple of boats from the rec launch, motored around Sandy Park, and then jumped off the boats to swim into the construction site. A couple of them handcuffed themselves to equipment. One or two had red paint, and they were tossing it everywhere. It’s a mess. But the worst thing is that a few of them headed for the old marina to occupy Walt’s, and marina patrol tried to stop them. Jarvis shot one of them.”

“You’re kidding. Was the protestor armed?”

“No details yet, but from what I gather, he was in the water. I don’t know how Jarvis will justify his actions. Anyway, I know we won the lawsuit to evict those people, but the city is dragging its feet to actually kick them out. This was probably a desperation ploy.”

“Nick’s in Arizona looking into just how crazy Oceans First is.” She told him about the investigation into the guns and about the bomb at Half Baked.

“Wonder if his brother was the one who threw the newspaper rack through the front door last week.”

“You’re probably right.”

The radio traffic had calmed quite a bit.

“So tell me about your surgery.”

“It’s supposed to be easy. I have torn cartilage in my left knee. The doc will go in arthroscopically and cut it out. No big scars, just two small holes. It’s outpatient, so I’ll be walking the next day.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I’ll pray that everything goes well.”

“Thanks, Carly. You take care.”

After he hung up, she listened to the radio a bit more and understood from all the traffic that Oceans First was still creating havoc at the construction site. Joe was right—they knew they’d be kicked out soon, so why not go for broke? As she listened to the environmentalist-created mayhem, she had to give them credit for originality. Though she was surprised they hadn’t thought of it sooner. The ocean side was the only way to circumvent all the security and fencing. Since they’d completed a successful swim, Carly found herself giving them a little more respect.

Details about the shooting wouldn’t be aired since Jarvis was a city employee. Carly hoped, for Jarvis’s sake, that the shooting was justified and the injuries were minor.

The phone rang, and her heart sang when she saw it was Nick. After making sure he was well and happy, she told him about Oceans First’s latest gambit.

“Well, that’s interesting because nothing’s panning out on the Oceans First front here in Arizona. I also heard about the bomb at the coffee shop. Have you talked to Ned?”

“Briefly. He thinks Dean did it.”

“And the ATF agents with me were glad to have a name to work with. But Dean was in prison when the original theft occurred.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not working with whoever stole it. I saw him with another man.”

“That’s why we’ll be here a little longer. We’re taking part in a conference call with prison authorities in Florence, Arizona, about Barton. But I still plan on being home in time for dinner tonight, and we’ll go to church together tomorrow.”

“Good. I miss you.”

“Miss you, too. Love ya, babe.”

Carly played his last words over and over in her mind while she swam. She was overjoyed to know he’d be home soon. After her swim, she got busy taking care of household duties she’d been neglecting.

Nick, true to his word, arrived home in time for dinner, and the house was sparkling. He wrapped her in a hug she would have been happy to have lasted forever.

“Sorry you didn’t close the case with Oceans First in the suspect column,” she said as he held her at arm’s length so he could look at her.

He gave a tired shrug. “Environmentalists as cold-blooded killers didn’t really track for me. Those people are annoying and they do damage, but they don’t kill people execution style. Jarvis is going to be in a world of hurt for shooting the one who tried to get into Walt’s. The guy wasn’t armed with anything other than spray paint.”

“Oh, I stopped listening to the radio and didn’t turn on the news. Have you heard more?”

“I talked to Fernando. He said the guy was just trying to climb onto the old dock near Walt’s when Jarvis shot him. He would have drowned if the other marina patrol guy hadn’t jumped in and pulled him out while Jarvis did nothing. The guy is in critical condition.”

“What does Jarvis have to say for himself?”

“Not talking. He’s suspended pending a shooting board. It doesn’t look good.”

“I didn’t care for the guy, but I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m sorry as well, but we have our own pressing issues. I’m really anxious to see how things pan out with Barton as our prime suspect regarding the explosives.”

“What did you learn from the prison?”

“He was a model prisoner. That’s why the early release. He settled down, went to school, even earned a degree in engineering. But we still have six years of visitor and phone logs to go through.”

“I can tell you’re not sold on him as the suspect, while I think he’s pure evil and belongs back in prison. There’s too much coincidence here.”

Nick yawned and gave her another hug. “I agree that the coincidence is compelling. I’m just beginning to think the people who stole the guns and explosives are the same people who shot the gangbangers and tried to make it look like a gang deal.”

“Why else would they give Trey the guns?”

He nodded. “Yeah, and while I can understand Barton having a beef with his brother, what’s his problem with Las Playas gangbangers? They were shot a week before this bomb was planted.”

“The key has to be who he’s working with.”

Carly had Nick sit at the table, poured him a large glass of ice water, and told him to relax while she served dinner. As she got plates and dished out the food, she told him what Londy had said about Victor.

“I know Victor. Caught him tagging the first time I was out with the gang unit,” Nick said, smothering a yawn.

“He made an impression on you, too?”

“He did. He’s a bright kid whose cleverness is all being channeled the wrong way. Wants to be a gangster more than anything.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. How sad. If what Victor said is accurate, then Dean Barton has two partners. Either of them could have a problem with Las Playas gangbangers. My gut tells me Barton needs to be taken off the streets. It’s not a stretch to think him capable of murder. Maybe even murder as a distraction.”

“You think he shot the gangsters to distract us from him blowing up Ned?”

“It’s possible.”

Carly sat once everything was served. She took Nick’s hand as they bowed their heads, and he said a blessing.

“Ned doesn’t always open the safe,” Carly continued, thinking out loud, trying to solve the puzzle. “If he hadn’t
on Friday, the place would have blown with no one to point the finger at Dean.”

Nick shrugged. “Praise God no one was hurt. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” He took a bite of dinner.

Carly knew that while Nick was away, mealtime was whatever fast food was available. So she didn’t want to subject him to takeout or any food other than home cooking. There were only two dishes she made with absolute confidence, and she’d made one of them for dinner that night.

“Mmm, this is great.” Nick oohed and aahed with pleasure, his mouth full of meat and cheese lasagna. He swallowed and toasted Carly with his water. “For three days I’ve choked down greasy hamburgers and stale deli sandwiches. This makes me forget all that junk.” He grabbed a piece of garlic bread and continued eating with relish.

Carly smiled. It was so good to have him home and across the table. The gang mess seemed to have calmed down, and Carly silently thanked God for keeping him safe.

She waited until after dinner when they were sitting together on the couch to tell him about the nasty blog posts Ginny Masters had written. The sting was gone, and Carly was glad she hadn’t been able to tell Nick right away when she’d felt outraged. Nick had his arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. The TV was on, but she really hadn’t paid any attention to what was shown.

“She thinks picking on you is going to get her a better job?”

“I guess. At least that’s what Alex thinks. I haven’t talked
to him. Andi has. He needs prayer. It sounds like his dad is really having a hard time with the death of his wife.”

“That’s tough. I’ll admit I miss reading his columns. Alex doesn’t beat around the bush; he always gets right to the point.”

Carly could tell by the tone of Nick’s voice that he was sleepy, and she decided they didn’t need a deep conversation right now. “Second service or first?” she asked, closing her eyes in anticipation of a nice doze.

“Second. I want to sleep in.”

Carly smiled and snuggled closer. In a few minutes Nick was asleep, and Carly followed shortly thereafter.

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