Grave Consequences (18 page)

“So we find a safe house here in the city. DuPree has to know, of course, but I'll insist he keep this from the rest of the undercover unit. If one of them leaked your identity we can't risk giving away your location as well,” Charlie added.

“How much do you trust DuPree?”

“He's a pain in the ass, but he's a decent cop and smarter than he looks. He can keep a secret,” Gordon said.

Charlie nodded. “Gordon's right. In the meantime, let's take care of that gunshot wound. You're going to need bandages, antibiotics, painkillers, and whatever else they can add to the bill.”

 

Chapter Fifteen

They made good time, and twenty minutes later Al was being treated in a doctor's examination room in the clinic wing of the new hospital. A Rio Rancho cop was standing in the lobby guarding the door, and another uniform was outside the clinic, watching the parking lot.

Charlie put a dollar in the coffee machine, punched the right buttons, then waited as the device clanked, sighed, then emitted a hint of aromatic steam. Gordon, hot brew already in hand, took a sip and nodded his head. “Not bad, for machine coffee.”

Charlie looked down at the machine as the brew trickled down into the foam cup. “Anything to keep my eyes open, bro.”

“You think maybe it was Al who screwed up?” Gordon whispered.

“Wouldn't be the first time, but if he didn't, then the alternative is a bit scary. Who called Clarence and told him Al was an officer? Undercover work is filled with pressure, and there must be a lot of opportunities to go bad,” Charlie suggested. “It could have been another cop.”

“Okay, that's a possibility, but I doubt it was the same person who tipped off DuPree that something was going down. He was already on his way to the warehouse before I made the call,” Gordon pointed out.

“Maybe it was one of the men at the warehouse not tied to the Night Crew? The mechanic?” Charlie suggested.

“At least the way it turned out, whoever tried to help out Al won't end up in the bull's-eye. It'll just be you and me—again.”

Charlie nodded. “We can't put Ruth and Jake in any more danger, though. We need to stay in business—and look after our people.”

“Okay, then how about you take care of your brother—get him to a safe place, and I'll take care of our quarters and FOB until he's tucked away?” Gordon offered. “We've also got three broken windows to deal with.”

“So, I'll split with Al in your truck and you'll take care of the rest? You've got a key to my house.”

“Okay.” Gordon looked at his watch. “Nancy should be getting off her shift pretty soon. I think she'd give me a ride to your place.”

“If not, you can take a cab,” Charlie said, grinning.

“You know how far that is? I'll need to take out a loan. I'll call Nancy right now.”

*   *   *

It was nearly two in the morning when Charlie took one last look at Al, who was asleep in the master bedroom of the upscale town house, then stepped outside onto the covered porch. The safe house in a gated compound had once belonged to a district attorney, now deceased, who'd willed his home to the city. The residence was set aside for visiting dignitaries and celebrities who needed security and anonymity.

The guards at the gate were retired APD officers, as was the private security firm responsible for this high-end housing development. Most of the residents were retired physicians, attorneys, and other businessmen and officials, including senior administrators from the big government-funded labs. Al had been impressed, though he knew he'd soon be returning to the Navajo Nation.

DuPree's captain had called ahead, clearing the way for Charlie and Al, who'd been eyed suspiciously by gate security nevertheless.

When he stopped at the gate on the way out, he had to wait for a quick once-over of the interior of the big pickup and the bed. After years of roadblocks and security outposts, he never gave it a second thought.

When Charlie arrived home he was happy to see the sheet of plywood over his garage window. He parked Gordon's pickup up close to the overhead door and climbed out, locking the truck with the key fob.

Once inside, Charlie checked on his car first, noting that the floor had been swept free of glass. In the bedroom, Gordon had duct taped heavy cardboard over the hole left by the broken pane and swept and vacuumed the carpet. He and Gordon had learned how to clean expertly and quickly as they'd advanced in rank in the Army, and Gordon was obsessive when it came to cleanliness.

The bed was unmade now, but Gordon had set out clean sheets, pillowcases, and two blankets, leaving them folded on the bare mattress. The bedspread—Charlie had only one—was probably in the hamper in the utility room.

Thinking he'd gotten the easier job getting Al hidden away, Charlie quickly made the bed and crawled in, hoping, at least for the rest of the night, he wasn't going to find any more bodies or bricks in his house. Reaching under the other pillow and feeling the cold comfort of his Beretta, he patted it good night and fell asleep almost immediately.

*   *   *

Charlie and Gordon arrived at FOB Pawn just as Jake and Ruth were bringing out the cash register trays from the office safe. It was ten minutes before the eight
AM
opening time posted on the front door and they were all in a bit of a hurry.

“Looks like even our bosses are on time this morning,” Jake said to Ruth, who'd come out into the short hall just ahead of him.

“Hi, guys,” Ruth said, turning to give them a smile before heading out into the display area. Gordon nodded, then turned to lock the heavy back door.

“Morning, Ruth, Jake,” Charlie said cheerfully, walking behind them. “We were able to get our transportation straight again and arrange to have our respective windows replaced. Hopefully, everything will be back to normal for a while.”

“There's always something weird going on with you two,” Ruth said, stepping aside as Jake went behind the counter and headed toward the cash register closest to the entrance.

“You're smiling instead of grumbling this time, boss, so they must have trashed something besides your car,” Jake concluded. “Maybe just a raging fire in the kitchen, or all your furniture ripped to shreds?”

Everyone laughed, knowing how Charlie loved the Charger. Gordon continued on toward the front entrance. He stopped at the door to take a look out through the small window.

“It all started with a brick. Well, three bricks,” Gordon replied. “Tell them about the miracle in the garage, boss,” he added, nodding to Charlie.

Charlie was brief, cutting out most of the warehouse incident. He also omitted mentioning Al's current situation except that he'd been barely shot.

“How does someone get barely shot?” Ruth asked just as the first customer walked inside, ringing the bell attached above the door. The middle-aged woman, wearing a pink UNM Lobos ball cap, looked over at Ruth, then quickly around the room. “Shot?”

“We're talking TV, Mrs. Radcliffe,” Ruth added with a beautiful smile. “Did you happen to watch
Grimm
last night?”

Mrs. Radcliffe was one of their regulars, and she'd been bringing in pieces of estate jewelry to sell or pawn every week since the death of her mother-in-law. She shook her head sadly. “No, all those strange creatures were giving me nightmares so I changed channels. I'm watching
Survivor
now. This season it's between those former contestants from California who got voted off early.”

“Sounds entertaining,” Ruth replied. “So what treasure do you have to show me this morning?”

*   *   *

A few minutes before ten, Nancy came into the shop a few steps ahead of Detective DuPree. Gordon was writing up a ticket for a young man pawning an old-looking shotgun, so Charlie, who'd been patching a newly discovered bullet hole, walked over to greet the two officers.

“Good morning, Sergeant, Detective,” Charlie said, carrying the bucket that contained the repair tools and supplies.

“Hello, Charlie,” Nancy said, eyeing DuPree with raised eyebrows before giving Charlie a look. What about, he had no idea.

“Henry, Sweeney, we need to talk in private,” DuPree announced.

“I'll finish up, Gordon,” said Jake, who was coming up the aisle toward the front after taking a coffee break.

“Thanks, Jake, but we're almost done here. All we need is your signature, sir,” Gordon said to the customer. “Here and here. Be right with you, officers,” Gordon added, smiling at Nancy as she approached.

The young man, temporarily distracted by the tall, attractive woman, turned back abruptly to Gordon. “Uh, sorry. Sign where?”

“Follow me,” Charlie said to DuPree, nodding toward the office.

A minute later, Gordon joined the others. Ruth, who'd been working in the back, left the office to help Jake out front.

“Hey, guys, what's going on?” Gordon asked immediately.

“Alfred Henry is now staying at your sister's place in Corrales,” DuPree announced.

“The mayor overruled APD. He decided Al wasn't important enough to stay at a city government guesthouse,” Nancy added cynically.

“Politics,” Gordon offered.

“Let me clarify that,” DuPree interrupted. “The residence had already been set aside for presidential hopeful Senator Doull, who's scheduled to be here for the dedication of the Executive Convention Center.”

“Which doesn't take place for two weeks,” Nancy added.

“Politics,” Charlie responded.

DuPree shrugged. “If it matters, tribal police officer Henry said he'd be happier staying with his sister than among the one percent. Reverse snobbery, maybe?”

Charlie cut in. “I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Jayne's live-in boyfriend, Rand Brewer, is a loser and maybe a druggie. Sometimes I worry about
her
safety. We don't talk much and I've only been over to her place a couple of times. Brewer hangs out with some rough-looking people.”

“What does the guy do for a living?” Nancy asked.

“Supposedly he buys stuff then resells it online,” Charlie replied.

“You mean, like stolen stuff?” Gordon got right to the point.

“Probably shoplifted sports jerseys, jackets, and caps, for instance,” Charlie replied. “Jayne defends him, though, and she's pissed off with me because I asked too many questions last time I was there.”

“The important thing is, will Al be safe in Corrales with her until he's fit enough to go back to the Navajo Nation?” DuPree asked.

“That depends. Is he getting protection from APD or the sheriff's department?” Charlie asked.

DuPree shook his head. “No, just increased patrols by the state police and the Corrales cops. According to what I heard, Officer Henry should be able to return to desk work within a week, maybe less. He's been pulled from his undercover assignment, naturally.”

Gordon looked over at Charlie, who shook his head. “Bad vibes on this?” Gordon asked.

“Yeah. But it is what it is. Any
good
news today, officers?” Charlie asked hopefully.

“The warehouse contained three missing vehicles that were taken in carjackings within the past month. One, a damaged Escalade, was being stripped, apparently by the mechanic our people arrested. The parts were still on hand, however, in boxes. They included the catalytic converter and twenty-four-inch rims and skinny tires, which sell for a bundle, I guess,” DuPree reported.

“A low-profile setup is expensive,” Gordon confirmed.

DuPree nodded. “There were also items reported to have been inside the carjacked vehicles, such as leather jackets, cell phones, tools, even a couple of antique guns—old Civil War–era revolvers. Also, there were watches, expensive purses, and stuff like that.”

“How about Indian jewelry? Any silver and turquoise pieces?” Nancy asked, looking at Charlie, who nodded.

“No jewelry at all, even though every one of the carjackings on record in the area had rings, necklaces, and other jewelry taken from the passengers. Speculation is that the gold items were melted down immediately and the other stuff sold at flea markets and such,” DuPree said.

“What evidence is there linking the Night Crew to this, especially Clarence Fasthorse?” Charlie asked DuPree.

“We know Fasthorse was at that warehouse just prior to our arrival,” Gordon pointed out.

“You saw him, then?” DuPree asked. “An eyewitness really helps the case. Al, of course, identified Fasthorse as being there, pulling the gun on him, and making the threats. Unfortunately, his story is contradicted by the mechanic and the warehouse security guard. Their story is that Al turned up, got in a fight with some other strangers in the alley, and that the fight moved into the warehouse garage. Then you two showed up, started shooting, and everyone split. They've stuck to their story, and Clarence has three people that say he was at some truck stop at the time.”

“Unfortunately, we never saw him face-to-face, just his vehicle as it was leaving the area. We know it was his because the license plate matched the one he rides around in,” Charlie answered. He didn't want to reveal the bug they'd placed, which was, of course, illegal.

DuPree looked over at Gordon, who nodded, but Charlie saw Nancy rolling her eyes. She didn't know about the bug, but Nancy was a smart cop and she knew them well.

“Neither the security guard nor the mechanic is talking much. They'll probably continue to keep quiet. The mechanic was moonlighting from his day job at an auto shop on Central Avenue, but refuses to say who was paying him to strip the cars. The guy is otherwise clean and has already posted bail. We spoke to the owner of the warehouse, and, supposedly, it's a legitimate facility. Most of the square footage of storage is used as a public school textbook depository, believe it or not,” DuPree said.