Last Shot (Dev Haskell - Private Investigator, Book 6) (27 page)

I found
a couple of quarters in a dresser drawer and made my way to the pay phone in the lobby of Fabulous Ferns, a bar within sight of my front door.

“Dev?”
Louie answered.

“H
ow’d you know it was me?”

“Your call came through as ‘pay phone’. You’re the only guy who calls me from a pay phone
, and when you do it means things probably aren’t going your way.”

“That’s the understatement. Look
, you free to pick me up at home? I’ll explain once you get here. It’s a mess.”

“Gee
, surprise, surprise.”

I was waiting in front of my house when Louie pulled up. I’d cleaned up some
what and my stomach seemed to have settled, but my head was still pounding.

“That a rash all over you? I
t’s not contagious, is it?” Louie asked as I gingerly climbed into his passenger seat. My skin was still red and a little tingly from that toxic chemical stuff Driscoll had dumped over me. I caught the slightest hint of an afternoon bourbon wafting off Louie’s breath.

“Not to worry. B
esides, there isn’t the germ that could live in your blood stream. I’ll tell you about it as we drive. Mind if I borrow your phone?”

“A
nything else you need? Bills paid, paperwork filled out, maybe scrub your back?” he asked as he handed me the phone.

I phoned Annie and brought her
up to speed on what had happened to Lydell. It was not the most pleasant conversation.

“Oh
, God, you and that damn Lydell. I just knew this wasn’t going to work out well,” she said ten minutes later when she opened her front door. She’d had just enough time after my phone call to get really worked up.

“Annie, I told you
Lydell didn’t do anything wrong. He helped me. Actually, saved me as a matter of fact.”

“Sure
, Dev, that’s why they’ve got him in jail, again,” she said, then crossed her arms, cocked a hip and made it very clear we weren’t going to be coming inside.

“Jail
might just be the safest place for him right now. Kind of like he’s under police protection, at least until I get some answers,” I said, trying my best to soothe a volatile situation.

“Yeah
, sure, that’s what it is, police protection. I’m not buying it, Dev. Anything else? Cause I got a lot of things to do.”

“Well
, actually, I was just wondering if he maybe kept a spare set of keys around. You know for his truck.”

“Well
, since he’s been arrested, again, and you seem to know way more than me, why don’t you just go and get them from him? Apparently he won’t be going anywhere so he doesn’t need them now, does he?”

“They’re probably locked up in a property room and
, well, it sort of gets complicated. It might be better for everyone, if I just stayed away. You know, let the cops do their job and all that.”

She seemed to think about tha
t. “Wait here.” she finally said, then slammed the door closed.

“I see you haven’t
lost your touch,” Louie said.

The door opened a few minutes
later and Annie tossed a set of keys over my head and out onto the front sidewalk. “Next time you see the big dope you can just inform Mr. Lydell Hammer that all his worthless shit will be out on the curb with a sign on it that says ‘free’. So, if he wants anything, he better get his ass over here and you can just tell him I’m changing the locks again, too. So he can just not bother trying to contact me, ever! By the way, that goes double for you too, Dev. Now, both of you get as far away as possible from my front door.”

“Annie
, maybe you…”

She
just glared, looked like she might yell something and then slammed the door again. We both felt the vibration standing on her front steps.

“Nice work, Dev, real nice,” Louie said.

“I can’t worry about her right now. Let’s grab those keys and see if we can just find his truck.”

It took a while
, but eventually we did find Lydell’s truck.

“What a
great bomb,” Louie said, admiring the dual rear wheels and the Ultimate Fight Club bumper stickers. The truck was parked up the block and around the corner from Dawn Miller’s house and sporting a recent parking ticket on the windshield.

I drove the truck down
the alley, then around the block, but didn’t see Karla’s Lincoln anywhere. I was thinking maybe they stashed it in the garage or in Gaston Driscoll’s garage. I drove past Driscoll’s house, hoping I might check things out. At the very least I could verify that was the place where Pauley Kopff was shot and where I’d last seen Marsha. Unfortunately, there was a squad car parked in front standing guard so I just kept moving.

There was one other place I hadn’t checked, Pauley
Kopff’s grungy little apartment. I drove over to the East side to take a look. It was a little after midnight when I cruised past the building. Since Pauley’s unit was in the back of the building, I really couldn’t see anything, except that there wasn’t a squad car parked out in front. There were three people, two guys and a woman smoking and drinking beer on the front stoop, probably attempting to catch what little breeze there was on a sweltering night. I drove further down to the next block, parked then walked back trying to act like I belonged in the building.

As I walked up the fro
nt sidewalk, I looked directly at the people lounging around the front door. I nodded at the largest in the group as if we were casual acquaintances. He had close-cropped hair, a tattoo around his neck and looked to be Hispanic. I gave him a nod that suggested we knew each other, made my way around all three of them and pulled the front door open. There was an empty beer bottle wedged in the door frame so the door wouldn’t lock. As I reached for the door, the smaller of the two guys said something in Spanish, which brought a chuckle from all three of them. I pulled the door open and laughed along with them, pretending I got whatever the joke was, then took the stairs to the second floor.

The hallway didn’t smell any better after midnight
than the last time I’d been here. I moved as quietly as possible down toward the last door on the right, to Pauley’s apartment. There was a dim blue light coming from under the door. The sound of either a radio or a television playing drifted out through the door and into the hallway. I guessed the light and sound probably came from the flat screen TV I’d seen in there the other day. A baby cried out from one of the units behind me, but the hallway remained empty and the three people on the front stoop were still out there, sipping beer.

From what
I could tell in the dim light, Pauley’s door was secured by the same lousy lock system. I pulled out a card, ran through the layout of the place in my mind and then figured there was nothing like the element of surprise. I slipped the card under the door latch, then ran the card up along the door frame and barged into the room.

I’d been correct
. The room was illuminated by a large flat screen TV casting a blue light over everything, including Marsha bound up with tape wrapped around her legs and arms lying on the floor in front of the couch. Her eyes went wide as I swung the door open. She started to shake her head, then seemed to indicate the back kitchen area just as the bathroom door opened and a large figure in boxer shorts stepped into the room, dabbing his face with a dirty towel.

He took on
e look at me and lunged toward the window. It caught me off guard for half-a-second. I thought he might be planning to jump out when I spotted the pistol resting on the window sill. I was right behind him, slamming into him full force just as he got his hand around the grip and began to raise the pistol. The thing fired, booming through the silence and flashing in the dark the moment we collided. It all happened in a nanosecond. I felt him going out the window before I actually heard any noise. I definitely remembered shoving him hard, rather than trying to hang onto the guy. The next thing I knew he was spread out on the ground below. I heard bits of glass tinkling around him and he lay very still with a dazed look across his face. I recognized him as the jerk from the SUV who gave me the elbow shot just before he climbed into the Lincoln in front of my office.

I didn’t waste any time
worrying. I stepped over Marsha who was making noise and rolling away from the couch. I checked the bathroom to make sure it was empty then looked around the kitchen. The light didn’t go on when I flicked the switch, but I couldn’t see anyone in the light filtering behind me from the bathroom. My heart was still pounding too loudly to really hear anything.

I rushed
back out to Marsha and pulled the tape from around her head, then tore it off her wrists. I was aware of a baby crying from somewhere out in the hallway.

“Bout fucking time.
Jesus, where the hell have you been? I thought you were dead.” Marsha gasped.

“Let
’s just get your ass out of here,” I said.

I helped her up.
“Just a second,” I said then stepped over to the little mirror hanging on the wall, grabbed the gold chain with the Claddagh I was sure was Desi’s and placed it in my pocket.

The two guys from the front stoop were
standing at the end of the hallway, watching us as we fled down the back stairs. They didn’t appear to have any intention of getting closer. We ran out the back door. The guy in boxer shorts was still lying on the ground and hadn’t moved, so we sidestepped him as we ran down the block to Lydell’s truck. I had to slow down and take Marsha by the arm, pulling her along. I wasn’t sure if that was because she’d been bound up for a long time, or I was just more frightened and moving faster. Fear had always served as a big motivator for me.

By the time I got her in the truck and myself behind the wheel
, she was sobbing. I reached over and clicked her seat belt into place. I was still too frightened to cry myself so I just fired up Lydell’s truck and we drove straight to the police station.

Chapter Fifty-Three

“That’s your description?” Manning
asked. We were back in the same interview room where we’d been earlier. Manning needed a shave and his usually pink bald head had taken on a decided shade of scarlet. He also appeared a lot less smug than he had in our earlier meeting. For my part, I was still shaking.

“I’ve told you a half dozen times it was some guy in boxers reaching for a gun.
A pair of boxer shorts was all he had on. I can’t even tell you the color…and a gun, an awfully big gun. That’s really all I remember before he jumped out the window to make his escape.”

“Jumped? Through
two panes of glass?”

“I guess he was
in a hurry or thought there were more guys than just me.”

“Any identifying characteristics?”

“Honestly, the whole thing happened way too fast, Manning. I just remember the bathroom door opening and the next thing I knew he was two stories down on the ground and I heard all the glass kind of tinkling around the guy.”

“
Including that very convenient shard that just happened to slice through his carotid artery,” Manning said.

I shrugged.
“I really don’t know anything about that. I just wanted to get Marsha and me the hell out of there. I didn’t know if anyone else was going to show up and I sure as hell wasn’t planning to wait around and see.”

“The paramed
ics transported her to Regions Hospital. She’ll get the standard examination and they’ll keep her there under observation for at least twenty-four hours. Any update on her condition and we’ll pass it on.”

“She gonna be safe? That’s where that other idiot is, the guy with the shaved head.”

“Donald Dempsey?”

“Yeah, your
graduate student.”

Manning igno
red my comment. “Not to worry. We’ve got a twenty-four hour guard on Miss Norling’s door and we’ve moved Dempsey into custodial care. He’s still unable to get anywhere under his own power. Probably will be for the better part of a week.”

“Custodial care?”

“He’s cuffed to the bed while he’s in traction and recovering. I wouldn’t worry too much about him.”

“
What about Driscoll and Dawn Miller?”

“We’re working that aspect.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I’
m not going to comment on an ongoing investigation. I can tell you this much, it looks like his phone call with Lieutenant LaZelle may have actually been through Skype or Viber or some sort of pay-as-you-go online long distance systems. He somehow programmed the thing to show a Florida locale.”

“You know they’re both guilty as sin and you know Driscoll railroaded Desi Quinn an
d was tied into that Federal Reserve robbery some years back.”

“And I think I just told you
I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation.”

“What about Lydell?”

“I suspect there’s a pretty good chance the assault charges won’t be coming through.” Manning half chuckled. “I’ll get the paperwork started and he should be released later this morning.”