Shadows of Doubt (20 page)

“I know, I understand.” Joe’s shoulders slouched just a bit. “But the Fates can be kind sometimes, can’t they?”

“Yes.” Max smiled softly. “Yes, they can sometimes. Let’s hope that this is one of those times.”

Lou had been
grateful for Vinny’s call that afternoon. While Caroline had managed to pack away a not-so-short stack of pancakes at breakfast, Lou’s mind had been racing and she had more or less just shoved her food from one side of the plate to the other rather than eat it. When Vinny called stating he needed an escape from nursery prep and suggested they go out for some beer and barbeque, Lou immediately began over-salivating. As far as she was concerned Vinny couldn’t get her there fast enough.

The restaurant was a definite dive but it was also a coveted local institution that had been family owned and operated for nearly a hundred years. Tucked back on a side road nestled between the foothills and a reservoir, it was probably the only joint in the universe where bikers and cops hung out under the same roof in relative harmony. Whether perched at the bar or parked at one of the family-style tables made from old railroad ties, rookies, seasoned detectives and hard-core leather clad dudes alike kicked back to have a few beers and partake in some of the heavenly concoctions the old man cooked up at the ten foot barbecue outside. The building itself had once been an old barn that had been converted by Jeremiah Jackson Sr. about a hundred years ago to accommodate his entire church congregation for regular Sunday barbeques. His wife, Sarah Ann, had become legendary for her sauce and cornbread, so Sundays expanded to include Wednesdays with a donation jar to help recoup the cost for the meals. From there it snowballed into a full time pit-stop for the entire town. Since then a full kitchen was installed and revamped several times over the decades. The barn had been retrofitted to accommodate the forty foot bar and a small stage where local musicians cranked out everything from blue-grass to speed metal depending on the day of the week. Jeremiah Sr. and Sarah Ann were long gone now but his son Jeremiah, Jr., at the spry young age of eighty-two, his wife Maggie and their four kids, Jeremiah the 3rd., David, Johnny and Annie all ran the local treasure together like a well oiled machine. Cooking up the same amazing food every day of the week.

Watching Vinny slather yet more sauce on his sandwich, Lou smiled to herself, knowing Vinny’s wife would have a fit to see the mess he was ingesting. This was definitely not something in the healthy eating category. After double-dipping one of her huge steak fries in ranch dressing in almost an act of solidarity, Lou looked around the expanse of the barn and marveled at the variety of people gathered. Rumpled business suits, uniformed deputies and LAPD blues. Leather motorcycle pants as well as some jeans that looked like they were so old and filthy they would stand up on their own. One table near the barbeque patio was filled with a group of women who appeared to be nurses, given their green scrub pants and trademark floral and cartoon scrub-shirts. They were laughing uproariously at something one of them had said and were ogling the Hulk Hogan look-alike that had just strutted back from the bar in his well-worn jeans, shit-kicker boots and nothing else but an open leather vest. He had foregone the draft mug and was drinking straight from the pitcher as his bronzed abs twitched with each gulp. It was easy to deduce that whatever the women were going on about, it was definitely not PG-13.

Lou munched another french fry while Vinny ranted about his impending fatherhood and the implications of green versus yellow paint for a nursery while her eyes continued to peruse the packed house around them. At the far end of the bar, obscured by a group of most-likely investment bankers, she thought she caught a pair of men staring at her. When she eyeballed them directly they appeared to be talking amongst themselves but Lou felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up for no apparent reason. Casually she tried to get a good look at the two but neither of the men looked even remotely familiar to her, aside from the standard visage of blue-collar grease monkey.

“Can I get you two another beer?” The lanky bartender’s squeaky voice jerked Lou’s attention away from the dubious pair.

“Not me, thanks though.” Lou smiled politely at Jeremiah number three who in turn gave her a nod.

Vinny picked up his mug and drained the last gulp before sliding it to the man. “One more, then the bill if ya don’t mind, JJ. Thanks.” He mopped his face with his napkin and eyed Lou wearily. “Any idea who they are?” Lou looked at him with a crooked glance, only semi-surprised he had caught the two grease monkeys looking their way.

“No bells going off.” She picked at another fry as she glanced back to the end of the bar just in time to see the two leaving. “Guess it was nothing.”

“Maybe, but they seemed fishy.” Vinny watched the pair head for the door as Jeremiah the younger plopped down his foamy draft and the bill. “Thanks JJ. Tell your mom and pop it was delicious as ever. Hey, you happen to know who those two guys that just left were? That were at the end of the bar?”

JJ looked in time to catch the backsides of the men in question stepping out the saloon style doors. “Nah. They’re not locals for sure though. Been hanging around just about a week, I guess and not exactly the friendly type if ya get my drift.” The sound of breaking glass drew JJ’s attention and a scowl to the opposite end of the barn. “Hey! You break it you bought it!” He shouted over their heads. “Duty calls. Take care you two.” The man rushed off to handle the scuffle leaving Lou and Vinny with their suspicions of the noobie grease monkeys and the unpaid bill. They each fished out a twenty and stacked it over the check, leaving well more then the standard fifteen-percent gratuity as was well deserved.

“Probably just that parolee-vibe, ya know what I mean?” Vinny speculated as he took a sip from his mug.

“Maybe.” Lou conceded, not wholly convinced. “So, Vera won with the yellow despite your bitching?” She brought the topic back to a more pleasant one. Dismissing the strangers that were now gone.

“Yeah but I still think it’s a girlie color. Too damned perky!” Vinny grumbled.

Lou chuckled at him. “If you two are set on not finding out if it’s a boy or a girl, then you gotta go neutral. It’s not banana yellow or anything, right?”

“Nah, Vera says it’s buttery. Whatever the hell that means. The name of the paint she picked is called spring serenity or some shit like that. Here! Look!” He shoved up the sleeve of his shirt to show her the yellow paint splatters on his skin. “See? That’s it here.”

Lou looked at the soothing pale yellow and nodded her approval. “That’s a nice color.”

“Yeah I guess.” He rolled his sleeve back down, took another slug from his mug then plunked it down on the bar with a thud. “She says she wants me involved in all this but you know as well as I do she’s gonna pick everything the way she wants it no matter what I say. I don’t know why the hell she even asks me!”

“Because she wants you to feel included but knows you’re crap at things like that.” Lou gave him a gentle nudge. “It’s a girl thing, Vinny. She’s nesting or whatever it’s called. Find your patience and avoid the stress.”

Vinny shoved his half-empty mug away and mopped his face once more with his napkin as he rolled his eyes at her. “Words of wisdom, grasshopper. Easier said than done! I better get you home and get myself back to the nest before momma-bird decides to clip my wings once and for all.”

Lou snorted at his all-too-accurate bird analogy as she got up from the bar and made her way for the door. For some odd reason the image of Vinny in a Woody-Woodpecker costume popped into her head. By the time they got to the car she was chuckling out loud at the visual.

“What’s so funny?” Vinny asked as he fished his car keys from his pocket.

“Nothin’, Woody.” She chortled.

“Huh?’ He stared at her with confusion for a moment. Lou heard a pop then suddenly Vinny dropped to the ground with a thud.

“Vinny?!” Lou shouted as she rounded the back of the car towards him but was slammed to the ground by some unseen force just as she reached the driver’s side. As Lou tried to get up and get her bearings she heard an unknown voice from behind her shout to someone to get the car. Glancing up she saw Vinny pushing up off the ground and getting to his feet. “Vinny?” She croaked this time, only semi catching her breath from whatever blow she had taken to the gut. Since there was no blood and she was already able to move to get back on her feet, she deduced it had to have been a bean bag or a low-dose stun gun that nailed them.

“Behind you, kid!” Vinny shouted as he came to attention and reached for his gun.

“Don’t even think about it!” The male voice from behind Lou was gruff and gravelly, sounding like a two-pack a day smoker’s voice. “Hands up, both of you!”

Lou turned slowly to face one of the grease monkeys who was now standing in front of them with his Glock pointed at them. Still no bells ringing as to who the man was, Lou figured grease monkey number two was the one getting the car and she had precious little time to waste getting this guy out of their faces.

“Hey Einstein, you got about thirty seconds before the three dozen or so cops that are inside there come out and turn you into swiss cheese.” Vinny’s colorful yet accurate observation bought Lou the second she needed when the man turned his head to look at the restaurant.

“Duck!” She shouted at her partner as she pivoted on the ball of her left foot, swinging her body around and nailing the asshole hard with a solid roundhouse kick. The blow knocked the gun from his grip and sent it and him skittering across the dirt. Lou did an almost perfect pirouette, righting herself above their would-be attacker who was now face down on the ground, choking for breath. She straddled him, yanked his arm up behind his back almost popping it out of it’s socket while placing her boot firmly into the small of his back.

“I got him.” Vinny assured her as he planted himself on top of the man’s back and reached for his handcuffs. Lou glanced over her shoulder to see the herd of charging cops approaching as promised. She quickly turned to catch sight of the dust cloud approaching from what could only be the second grease monkey in the requested vehicle. As the beat-up sedan closed in, Lou reached for her gun and relinquished her hold on the first asshole to one of the uniforms that was now assisting Vinny. In what could only be described as a twisted game of chicken, Lou took several strides head-on towards the sedan, aiming her gun dead at the driver. With a jerk of the wheel, the sedan skidded sideways and the driver pointed his own gun likewise at Lou through the open window and popped off two shots in her direction before he hit the gas and sent yet more dirt billowing into the air, obscuring Lou’s sight. She ducked instinctively and fired her own two rounds before the sedan’s wheels caught hold of the loose dirt and started making it’s getaway.

“Go! We got this one!” A uniformed deputy shouted, sending Vinny in a sprint for their car.

“Let’s go!” He demanded of Lou as he cranked the engine and flung the passenger door open for her. Before her butt was even in the seat, Vinny floored it and they were in hot pursuit of grease monkey number two.

Although he had a mild lead on them, it wasn’t difficult to deduce the direction their man had gone. The trail of dust had them heading southwest along the old road then hanging a prompt left onto Box Canyon.

“Ah crap. I got a bad feeling about this, Lou.” Vinny grumbled as they headed into the pitch black of the windy canyon road while Lou called in to dispatch and relayed recent events.

“Not allowed to have a bad feeling Vinny. Vera will kick my ass if you aren’t safe and sound to finish that nursery tonight.” Lou tried to make light of the situation with her joke but she too had a bad feeling as they headed further into sketchy territory through the canyon. “Fifty bucks says we hit the pass.”

Vinny snorted at her comment. “That’s a sucker bet.”

Sure enough, the faint red glow of tail-lights ahead of them pulled right onto the Santa Susana Pass which as both Vinny and Lou expected would inevitably lead them into the infamous territory of the former Spahn Ranch. Once a location notorious for filming such classics as the Lone Ranger and Bonanza, the deeds of Charlie Manson and his “family” had forever scarred the location and made it a well known campground for crooks and kooks alike. Despite it falling victim to Manson and numerous wild fires, the ranch that was now part of the Santa Susanna Pass State Historic Park still held dilapidated outbuildings, makeshift shanties and enough hollowed out car carcasses to make it a tricky place to chase down a suspect at night. Lou knew once they turned off onto the old dirt road that was exactly what they were going to be doing and relayed such to dispatch right before Vinny slammed on the brakes to avoid rear ending the ratty sedan that was now at a standstill, driver door agape and still running.

“Dammit!” Vinny grumbled as he unhooked his seat-belt and bolted from the car.

“He’s not heading into the hills, you know that, right?” Lou followed her partner to the back of their vehicle where Vinny was already pulling a shotgun from the trunk.

“No shit, Sherlock!” He gave her a wry smirk as he clipped his flashlight to the barrel of the shotgun. “I’ll go left and come up the rear. You good?”

“I’m good. Heading up the middle. Watch your ass.” She retorted as she stuffed an extra magazine in her pocket and flipped on her flashlight.

With that, Vinny nodded and headed to the left side of what appeared to be an old double-wide with various plywood modifications. The kicked up dust from the vehicles tasted salty on Lou’s tongue and among the smell of dirt, old wood and sagebrush was the stench of piss and stale beer. The faint note of a chemical smell pulled memories of meth-lab busts from Lou’s mind and she wondered if there might be enough crap left to cause an explosion if a bullet caught the wrong target. Just another fun and exciting fly in the ointment of what had been a perfectly lovely evening up until a little bit ago. She proceeded cautiously through the burned out hull of some sort of outbuilding, possibly an old barn or corral once upon a time. Any trace of daylight was long gone, making anything five feet in front of her lost in the pitch black of the moonless night. Not a sound stirring, not even a shuffle from Vinny in the distance as she carefully climbed over a pile of wood that appeared to have once been a barn door. She could smell stale hay and kerosene as she ducked under a collapsed rafter, proceeding deeper into the ruins and trash. He was in here. She could feel it and she shut off her flashlight so as not to give him a spotlight on his target. Slower and more cautiously she hugged the right of the structure as best she could. Ducking and weaving silently through the wreckage of the corrals that perhaps once housed the horses for Little Joe or Hoss from Bonanza. Man she really loved that show when she was a kid and what a crush she had had on Pernell Roberts. She tried not to snort as she realized where her mind had wandered while skulking through the dark in pursuit of an armed twit that had only just minutes ago taken a couple shots at her. Surely Ben Cartwright would be impressed with her nonchalant attitude in the situation.