Grave Consequences (27 page)

“I doubt she has the manpower right now. I'm thinking she's going to strike closer to home,” Charlie said, “and fast, before the authorities can get anything solid on her.”

“Closer to home … like you and your family?” Nancy asked. “She made that threat back in Shiprock the other night, right?”

Charlie nodded. “That's my guess. I'm too dangerous to attack again, and Al, his family, and my parents are in hiding. That leaves my sister, Jayne. She's local and within easy reach of whatever forces Sheila still has available. That makes her the most vulnerable.”

“That's all we need,” DuPree grumbled. “Who am I dealing with here? Is your sister anything like you and your brother?”

Charlie shrugged. “She's hardworking, but stubborn.”

“In other words, yes,” DuPree replied. “But is she as dangerous? Any police or military background?”

“Just the opposite. I doubt she even owns a weapon. Besides, Jayne tends to be naive about strangers unless she's standing up for family. Right now she's got a loser boyfriend and he's a bit of a liability. She's stuck by him, though,” Charlie added. “Jayne's not the kind to run from trouble. If I gave her an airplane ticket and told her to get lost, she'd hand it right back.”

“Okay, so that means she's going to need some protection. I think you mentioned that she lives in Corrales, right?” Nancy asked.

“Yeah. I should give Jayne a call and warn her to stay home and away from strangers until I get over there,” Charlie said, standing.

“I've got officers watching the Ben house. Nobody's left there yet or I'd have gotten a call,” DuPree commented. “Your sister's probably still safe.”

“Gordon's watching too,” Charlie said. “So I'll make the call and come up with a plan. Know anyone who can help out?” He looked at Nancy, then DuPree.

“More than ever, Sheila's the obvious suspect in the Cordell Buck homicide case,” DuPree answered, nodding. “You want to be in on this, Medina?” he asked Nancy.

“Of course. You need to call your sister, Charlie. Now.”

Charlie managed a smile, then touched Jayne's image on his phone.

*   *   *

Charlie came up from behind Jake's SUV and climbed in the passenger side, joining Gordon, who lowered his binoculars and eyed him closely.

“So Clarence is really dead.”

Charlie nodded. “I saw the attack coming but tried to protect the wrong target.”

“Wrong? Nancy's a real friend. I understand your instincts,” Gordon added. “It happens, and it isn't as if Fasthorse was undeserving. Besides, like you said over the phone, it will probably push Sheila over the edge.”

“Yeah, but maybe in the direction of my family. I think she'll make a move on Jayne. Sheila is smart and clearly knows something about my family. Dad was a judge on the panel that sent her packing, and Mom taught in the local schools. A few clicks on the Internet, a call to one of her sources, and she'll also discover where Jayne lives—if she doesn't know already.”

“You've called Jayne and she knows the risks?”

Charlie nodded. “There's going to be a state police officer in the area for the next few hours, and Jayne has his cell phone number. Before I tell you the plan we've come up with, anything new on Mrs. Ben and her companions?”

“I've got the bug turned on right now, but unless they come into the garage or decide to leave, we have no way of listening in. I hope the battery holds out,” Gordon said, looking over with his binoculars again. “No sign of activity, though someone has looked out the living room window a few times. So tell me about your plan.”

*   *   *

It was close to 5:00
PM
, and Charlie was getting hungry when a voice came out clearly over the bug monitor. It was Sheila.

“I'm going through all kinds of shit, but with my son gone I've got to hold it together. Payback is a guarantee now, but these pawnshop assholes know what's coming and will be ready. I've got to hold back and keep them looking over their shoulders, awake at night, wondering if they're going to be alive in the morning. Then, in a month, or three months, when they think maybe they can finally relax—boom!”

“Boom?” Gordon mouthed, raising his eyebrows. Neither of them had so much as breathed once Sheila started speaking.

Charlie shook his head, rolling his eyes, still listening intently.

“We need to keep a very low profile,” Sheila said next, and there was the sound of a car door opening. “Tonight, Leroy and I will take care of the restaurant, calm our staff down, and conduct business as usual. We may have to run off some reporters once word gets out regarding my son, but we'll tough it out. I've got good people working at Pi
ñ
on Mesa, and, if anything, business will probably pick up a bit.”

“The boss would smile at that thought,” came Leroy's booming voice.

Charlie looked over at Gordon. “Does that sound…”

“Rehearsed, and contrived. Either somebody's gone mechanical or they're acting this out for us,” Gordon replied. “We're being played.”

“Badly. They found the bug,” Charlie agreed. “The third person, the one Sheila was talking to when she mentioned Leroy, must have swept the vehicles too.”

There was the sound of machinery and Charlie looked down the street. Gordon was watching again with the binoculars.

“The garage door is opening, here comes the SUV … no, it's a white Nissan cargo van.”

Charlie looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Sheila behind the wheel?”

Gordon shrugged. “Looks like. The windows are tinted, but I can make out a dark-haired woman—not Leroy, that's for sure. Take a look.”

Charlie took the binoculars and focused on the commercial-style vehicle backing through the opening gate. “Wonder where she's going? Making a business run?”

“Let's follow.” Gordon started the engine. “DuPree's team has the house covered, and we're not going to get anything useful from the bug anymore.”

Charlie's phone rang. “Hello,” he said, putting Nancy on speaker.

“That's Sheila in the van, right?” Nancy asked.

“I think. We're going to see where she's headed.”

“My thoughts, exactly. But didn't you lose the last person you tried to tail?”

“Blabbermouth,” Gordon said.

“Yeah, are we getting any help from other units?” Charlie asked, ignoring Gordon, who was creeping down the street as the Nissan turned left at the next corner.

“DuPree is on the ball and is going to acquire use of the APD fixed wing aircraft, which is above the Paseo Del Norte construction project beside the interstate. Just keep the vehicle in sight a few more minutes. I'll give you a number and you can contact the aircraft directly. I'll also call the state police officer in Corrales and put him on alert.”

“Copy. And thank DuPree.”

“Copy.” She ended the call.

“About time. Eye in the sky. Almost as good as a drone,” Gordon said, grinning, but keeping his eyes on the prize.

The drive took them north and east, and again, along the way, they lost her. Charlie called the cell phone of the spotter in the light plane somewhere overhead.

“You sure? West on Alameda?” Charlie said, loud enough for Gordon to hear, who turned north and sped up Fourth Street.

“Unless she turns back south on Rio Grande, she's heading across the river to either Rio Rancho or the village of Corrales,” Gordon advised.

Charlie stayed on the line and listened. After about five minutes, he got another report from the spotter plane.

“She pulled over at a convenience store on Alameda Boulevard, a few blocks east of the bridge,” Charlie reported, “and Corrales.”

Gordon nodded. “Then we'll get to the river first. Wanna take a position ahead of her and guess at her destination?”

“Yeah, if she's headed for Jayne's house, we can be ready before she arrives,” Charlie responded.

“Let us know if and when the van crosses the bridge. We think she's eventually headed for Corrales,” Charlie said to the observer overhead.

He held the phone to his ear as Gordon reached Alameda Avenue from Rio Grande, then was forced to stop and wait at the stoplight. They were already a mile down Corrales Road when the spotter spoke again.

“Thanks,” Charlie said, then told Gordon. “She's heading this way. Drive past the lane leading to Jayne's house, then do a one-eighty and park beside the road so we can keep watch. It's just ahead—Peach Tree Lane.”

“Got it,” Gordon replied. “What about the cop?” Gordon asked, pointing at the black-and-white state police car sitting just off the shoulder of the highway.

“I've got his number. I'll ask him to drive on into Corrales. We don't want to scare Sheila off right now,” Charlie reminded, reaching for his phone again.

A few minutes later, they were parked beside the road beneath some huge cottonwood trees with branches that draped over half the highway.

“Here she comes,” Gordon announced. “This might just be a recon, you know. The woman would have to be stupid to try a hit in daylight.”

“Or crazy,” Charlie said, looking down at the Beretta he had in his lap. “When I called Jayne, I told her and Rand to stay away from the doors and windows until we showed up. But if Sheila gets out and makes a move toward the house or pulls a weapon…”

“We take her down,” Gordon answered. “You better hit the floor before she sees you,” he added, turning so he wasn't looking at the approaching white Nissan as he pretended to talk on his cell phone.

*   *   *

It was a recon, apparently, because the Nissan drove slowly down the graveled lane, which led to eight homes on one-acre lots, turned around at the end of the dead-end street, then came back out and headed south in the direction of Albuquerque.

Gordon started the engine and Charlie, who'd ducked again, sat upright. “Time to put the plan in motion? I'm anxious to see why you think I can pass for Jayne's loser boyfriend.”

Charlie laughed. “Jayne says Rand is a changed man, so maybe I'm wrong about that.”

“I guess that depends on what Rand's changed into, I guess. Is he compact and fit like me, or bulky and flabby, like, say, yourself?” Gordon teased.

Charlie looked over at his best friend. “I'd arm wrestle you for the championship, but I'd probably break your arm, as small and delicate as you are.”

“If that's your way of backing out, I understand. Now let's go deal with your sister and her boy toy,” Gordon said, turning down the lane.

Charlie was halfway up the flagstone walk when Jayne opened the door. She was the looker in the family, with her mom's high cheekbones, eyes, and slender build, and had her legions of suitors even back in middle school. If it hadn't been for him, and Al, and mostly Dad …

Jayne rushed out toward him, and before Charlie knew what was going on she had her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“Charlie. It's so good to see you. I've been so worried about you and Al. He said you saved his life,” she whispered, her words all coming out at once. He hugged her back, then lifted her off the ground for a second.

“Good to see you too, shorty. For a second there, I didn't know if you were going to hit or hug me,” Charlie replied. It had been a long time since he and Jayne had exchanged anything besides criticism.

He held her at arm's length, looking at the smile on her face and her sparkling eyes. She was happy, healthy, and in a good mood.

Charlie looked over at Rand, a short Anglo with a wrestler's build and pale blue eyes. He was standing in the doorway, hesitation in his expression. Their last encounter hadn't been friendly. Rand looked kind of odd, and Charlie realized that was because the man now had neatly groomed, short blond hair and was wearing a shirt with a collar and tan slacks instead of calf-length shorts. It was almost a transformation. Today Rand looked more like a choir boy than a punk East Central drug dealer, his last incarnation.

Gordon came up behind Charlie. “Uh, bro, let's take this inside. We need to stay on schedule.”

“Hi, Gordon,” Jayne said, grinning and reaching over and giving him a quick, one-armed hug. “Come on in and tell me how you and my big brother are going to save our butts.”

*   *   *

Nancy arrived about five minutes later driving her own vehicle, the Jeep. She was wearing a long black wig and dressed in civilian clothes except for her service weapon. In one hand she carried a rifle case.

After quick introductions Nancy and Jayne hurried into one of the bedrooms of the old adobe house. The three men stood around for a moment, then Charlie spoke softly. “Rand, I barely recognized you. You treating my sister right?”

Rand was nervous, clearly, but not nearly so much as the last time he and Charlie had spoken. “I understand how protective you and Al are of your sister and I appreciate how Jayne has helped me turn my life around. I'm not bullshitting you either,” he added, his voice gaining confidence as he looked up at Charlie, who was almost a foot taller and sixty pounds heavier.

“You got a real job now?”

“Yes, for the last six months. I'm in a training program at Verizon, working full time in a local store, and have already applied for a management position. I've been passing all my drug tests and I won't be going down that path again. Jayne is my partner, inspiration, and harshest critic. I'm not going to let her down.”

Charlie held out his hand to shake. “Good to hear. Just treat my sister and yourself as if your life depended upon it.”

Rand looked at him curiously, nodded, then shook his hand.

“Speaking of your life depending on it,” Gordon spoke, “if I'm supposed to be passing for you, Rand, I'll need to borrow one of your shirts and a pair of those killer slacks. Our hair length and color are close enough, and I can slump down a little to match your height.”