Never-ending-snake Page 8

  They separated in the parking lot, and Ella and Justine were soon on their way. Not wanting to waste any time, Ella pulled out her cell phone and called Rose. “Mom, just a heads-up. I’m going to text message my kid and tell her that her dad’s awake.”

  “Then I’ll have to pull her out of school early. The second she reads it, she’ll want me to pick her up and take her to the hospital.”

  “It’s almost two now, so she’ll probably see the message before going to her last class. If she calls you and pushes it, take her. It’ll be good for both of them.”

  Ella hung up, then left a text message for Dawn. The middle school—which had rules that applied to cell phone use—allowed calls and text messaging between classes as long as that didn’t create other problems, like tardiness. But students caught using them during class risked confiscation and a visit from a parent in order to get them back. Ella knew that her daughter would be checking her cell phone as often as possible today.

  Placing the cell phone back in her pocket, she glanced at Justine. “What did we ever do in the days before cell phones?”

  “I’m permanently attached to mine these days.”

  Though they’d both thought they’d been prepared for the media circus, the reality hit them hard as they approached the station’s parking lot. There were antenna and dish-encrusted vans from every area station—network, local, and cable. Half of the media people were carrying video cameras, and the other half were looking over their notes, playing with microphones, or checking their hair and ties.

  “Let’s see if we can sneak in through the back,” Ella said.

  Justine detoured, driving into the maintenance yard, but the press had all the doorways covered. Judging from the way they swarmed over anyone trying to enter or leave the station, they were hungry for information on the still-developing story.

  “Now what, partner?” Justine asked.

  “We go in and keep our mouths shut—no comments. Big Ed will be taking the heat, not us.”

  Ella picked up the bag that had the clothing she’d worn during the attack, then took the lead, pushing her way inside. The reporters pressed in, throwing out questions that always began with “Investigator Clah.” Clear passage was nearly impossible. At one point, one of the reporters grabbed her arm, hoping to make her turn and face the camera. Ella stepped on his toe with the heel of her boot, and with a yelp, he released her.

  Once they got past the outer lobby, Ella finally took a deep breath. “You okay, cuz?”

  “Yeah,” Justine muttered, taking the bag from Ella’s hand. “I’m going to my lab. Good luck evading those reporters. They’re out for blood.”

  Ella watched her escape, then glanced back at the mostly male, barrel-chested patrol officers who’d formed a wall, blocking the reporters from going any farther than the reception area. Life had become very complicated at the station—and things were bound to get worse before they got better.

  “Shorty!” she heard a familiar voice call from down the hall.

  Ella hurried to Big Ed’s office.

  “I’ve got a statement ready, and I wanted you to look it over,” he said as Ella came in. “I’m going to try and shift their focus from Adam to Kevin by telling them that we suspect Kevin was the real target because of his current legal activities. I hope that’ll take some of the pressure off the Lonewolf family.”

  “Do you think the press will buy your spin?”

  “I hope so. Kevin was in the middle of a high-profile case, so it’s not out of left field.”

  “Kevin’s not going to be happy to see his case appear on the headlines and as part of the lead story tonight,” she said.

  “It’s the lesser of two evils. I’m hoping the reporters will dig in the opposite direction so they don’t mess up our investigation. If they discover that Adam was carrying cash—and how much—things are going to get much worse.”

  “A hero-gone-bad story would explode onto every screen and newspaper in the country,” Ella said, nodding slowly.

  “Before I go out there and publicly name you as the lead detective, there’s something I need to know. Are you one hundred percent certain that you can investigate this case despite your connection to Tolino?”

  “Absolutely. If Kevin’s broken the law, I’ll bring him in. But I know that man, Chief. To serve a greater good, he might cross into the gray area, but he’d stay on the right side of the law all the way.”

  “All right then.” He picked up his notes and led the way out of his office. “Time to talk to the vultures.”

  Ella slipped down the hall and went straight to the lab. “Anything new?” Ella asked, seeing Justine processing evidence.

  “I’ve checked all your clothing, but didn’t find anything other than what you’d expect.”

  “Do you have Kevin’s laptop here?” Ella asked, looking around.

  Justine nodded. “It’s inside the box on the second shelf over there,” she said, pointing with her lips.

  Ella put evidence gloves on before handling the computer. She didn’t expect Justine to find anything on the laptop except Kevin’s prints, but she wouldn’t break protocols.

  Taking a seat by the desk, Ella turned on the device. As the main screen came up Justine joined her, looking over her shoulder. “Are you searching for anything in particular?” she asked.

  Ella nodded. “Kevin said that he had a file in here listing his sources.”

  “If that’s true, he was incredibly trusting,” Justine said, surprised. “Anyone could have hacked into it.”

  Ella shook her head. “It would have taken an expert, and even then, he would have found it a challenge. First, you need a password to get in, then another one to access his files, which are encrypted. Also you’d have to know where to look. The directory is hidden within the operating system files, and the files themselves have extensions that must be changed in order to read them using word processing programs. If you don’t know the names of his sources, you wouldn’t know where to look, either. The directory file is within a printer driver directory folder and has the name ix128.”

  Ella called up the word processing program, found the file, then changed the name so it would be recognized as a text file. Only then was she able to open it. “This is more extensive than just a list of names. He has background info here, too.” Ella studied the contents for a few minutes. “He only has three major sources, but talk about well-placed . . .”

  Justine pointed to the first entry. “Don Yazzie. The name sounds familiar, though I can’t put a face to it. According to the note that follows, he manages the warehouse at the casino, so I’m not sure how I would have met him, yet . . .”

  “I think the reason his name’s familiar is because of his wife, Cornelia. Although she’s battling cancer herself, she runs her own version of the Make-A-Wish Foundation for Navajo kids.”

  Justine nodded. “Yeah, I remember hearing about a little boy with only a few months to live. His fondest memories were of a vacation he’d taken with his family to the Grand Canyon. He couldn’t be moved, so Cornelia’s foundation revamped the kid’s room and turned it into a replica of the cabin his father had rented there. That boy passed on in peace.”

  Ella sighed. “I don’t know how she does it. Constantly being with kids who are fighting a death sentence. It would destroy me one inch at a time.”

  “She’s a Christian, Ella. That gives her a totally different perspective. Ask Ford.”

  Ella smiled and shook her head. “No way, partner. We avoid discussing things that we’ll never agree on. Ford’s beliefs don’t allow him to accept any other way but his, and I’m not so quick to walk a line of absolutes. I’ve seen too much I can’t explain. I’m no Traditionalist, but I know that my brother’s ceremonies and rituals often get amazing results, yet Ford’s religion insists it’s all just pagan magic and superstition.”

  Before Justine could comment, Ella brought their focus back to the text file. “Here’s another one of his sources. Ang
elina Manuelito is the receptionist at CEM’s local office. She’d be in a position to know quite a bit.” Ella paused. “I don’t remember ever meeting her though.”

  “I don’t know her either,” Justine said.

  “Here’s the last name,” Ella said a second later. “Cheryl Hoskie’s the casino bookkeeper. Run these names and see what you get.”

  Justine went over to her computer terminal, then after a minute answered. “None have any priors. They’re clean, Ella.”

  “We need to talk to all of them, but we’re going to have to make certain we’re not followed.”

  “With the circus underway outside, that might be difficult,” Justine answered.

  As they stood, Ella’s phone vibrated. Flipping it open with one hand, Ella noted the caller ID. “Hey, Mom,” she greeted.

  “I’m at the hospital with your daughter,” Rose said in a shaky voice. “We were in the downstairs lobby when there was a huge explosion outside. A car’s burning and the fire department’s on its way. I don’t know if anyone’s hurt. Everything’s going crazy here.”

  Ella’s blood ran cold. She could hear the shouts and sounds of chaos just beyond Rose’s voice. “Hospital security—”

  “Went outside,” her mother finished for her.

  “Mom, take my daughter and stay away from her father’s room. This could be a diversion. I’m on my way.” Ella immediately called Officer Betone.

  “Everything’s secure here, but it sounds like they could use help outside,” he said.

  “Stay at your post,” Ella said, motioning for Justine to follow as she hurried out.

  “I’m not going anywhere. Don’t worry about that. Lonewolf’s my responsibility and no one’s laying a finger on him.”

  Ella noted the respect mirrored in Betone’s words whenever he spoke of the man he’d been assigned to protect. In hard times, larger-than-life heroes reminded everyone of the best of human nature and gave them something to strive for. More than anything, Ella hoped that Adam would live up to the faith others had placed in him.

  Ella put the phone away and checked her pistol as she walked, verifying that her third clip was there, the one with the armor-piercing rounds. “We need to get to the hospital pronto. I’ll fill you in on the way.”

  Fighting the urge to do the opposite, they left the department at a leisurely pace and without emergency lights, trying not to call attention to themselves. When they reached the highway, Justine picked up speed and turned on the siren. “We’re clear, Ella. No tail.”

  “When we arrive, go to Kevin’s room, I’ll head for the ICU. Until things calm down we’ll back up the officers guarding the two men.”

  Chaos ruled in the hospital’s front parking lot as they pulled up, with cars blocking some of the rows and people milling around. Justine circled the action and headed toward the emergency room entrance. They could see the fire department at the scene and many members of the hospital staff were on the outside steps and sidewalks. Most were trying to see what was going on, while others were making themselves useful.

  Once inside, Ella raced down the left corridor while Justine went straight. As Ella turned the corner of the long hall, she spotted someone wearing a dark green hooded sweatshirt, head covered, striding purposefully down the hall toward intensive care.

  The fact that the person was wearing that type of clothing inside the building—this time of day and year—immediately got her attention. It seemed doubly odd when you considered that the temperature outside was in the high seventies. As the man turned the corner, Ella noticed the large bouquet of flowers in his left hand. The way he was resting it on top of his right hand seemed odd—unless he was trying to hide something.

  That thought, and the fact that the person was wearing what was practically a convenience store robbery uniform, jolted her into immediate action. Ella spurted forward and called out, “You with the flowers—stop!”

  The man didn’t even turn to look. Instead, he ignored her and picked up speed. He was less than twenty feet from the twin doors leading to the ICU when he suddenly turned away and raced down an adjacent hallway, dropping the flowers.

  Ella saw what had changed the suspect’s mind. Officer Betone, apparently having heard her shout, was peering out one of the windows in the ICU doors. Betone slipped out into the hall, his hand on the butt of his handgun. “Who was that?”

  “Stay with Adam!” Ella yelled, sprinting after Hooded Guy.

  As she turned the corner, a security guard came out of the stairwell door.

  “What’s going on?” he yelled as she ran by.

  “Hooded man with a gun. Secure the exits!” she answered, not slowing down.

  As she raced down the corridor, she saw her suspect nearly collide with a cleaning cart one of the janitors was pushing down the hall. The suspect pointed his handgun at the janitor, who jumped back instantly, trying to hug the wall.

  Hooded Guy slid on the waxed floor, managed to sidestep the cart at the last second, then turned the corner.

  “Police. Stop!” Ella ordered, but once again, he ignored her and kept running.

  With only a waiting area at the end of this hall, the subject was trapped. “There’s no way out,” Ella called out to him, slowing to a brisk walk, pistol in hand. “Give it up.”

  The man turned, dropped to a crouch, and took two quick shots.

  As the bullets whined overhead, she dove behind the only available cover, a potted plant. Hesitant to return fire, not knowing what was behind the wall at the end of the hall or if anyone was in the waiting area, she poked her head out slowly and carefully. In the seconds it took her to do that, he’d vanished.

  SIX

  Figuring that he must have ducked into the waiting area, she inched down the hall slowly, hugging the wall and ready for an ambush. But how would she recognize the man if he’d taken off the hood? She’d had only one quick look at his face, and he’d been wearing sunglasses. If he was seated among others, he’d have a lethal advantage.

  Suddenly the shrill sound of a fire alarm shattered the silence. Ella stopped at the entrance to the small lounge, crouched, and looked around the corner, pistol out. A fire exit she didn’t remember seeing there before was ajar.

  Hurrying out, she saw dozens of people watching two firemen spraying water on the burning car while the rest of the crew worked to hook up a fat hose she thought would probably dispense foam. With onlookers everywhere, half of them taking photos and video with cell cameras, the suspect had slipped out unnoticed and blended in with the crowd.

  Yet Ella knew that he couldn’t have gone far. She called Justine on the cell phone as she searched up and down the rows of parked cars.

  “Kevin’s secure,” Justine said. “No trouble here.”

  Ella reported her location, then ended the call and continued to search the area, circling the crowd slowly on foot. After several minutes, she decided to focus on the parked vehicles. Hearing footsteps behind a van one row away, she circled for a better view, and saw a woman helping a man into a wheelchair. Ella continued to the next row and stood up on the back bumper of an old pickup, trying to get a better view.

  Suddenly a car raced up from behind her. Hearing it, Ella jumped off the bumper and turned, her hand on the butt of her pistol. A second later the squad car stopped, and she saw Justine behind the wheel.

  “I’m assuming Kevin’s still under guard?” Ella asked, slipping into the cruiser.

  “Yes. Officer Poyer is there now, along with another one of our people. Marianna Talk was here at the hospital visiting her mother and is now backing him up.”

  “Good. Circle the lot.”

  “What are we looking for?” Justine asked as she drove up and down the rows of vehicles.

  “The suspect’s wearing sunglasses and a green hooded sweatshirt,” Ella said, giving her highlights.

  “You need to start wearing a vest again, cuz. And maybe a helmet.”

  “No kidding.” Ella reached for her cell phone. “As
soon as this is over, I’m going to have Kevin moved to another room.”

  They drove slowly, circling the area where all the outside action was taking place, searching for anyone pulling out or acting suspicious. People crowded in from all sides, hampering the emergency crew’s efforts.

  “I want our crime scene team to work with the fire marshal and check out the incident with the car,” Ella said. “I think it was a diversion meant to draw security away from the hospital interior. Vehicles don’t generally blow up by themselves.”

  “Let me call Benny and Joe and have them secure the scene,” Justine said. “The hospital guards are in over their heads.”

  “I’ll make the call. Let’s keep searching for the suspect.” Although she knew the chances of finding him were slim, she wasn’t ready to give up. Ella called her team but kept her gaze focused on the surrounding area as she spoke.

  As Justine drove around to the outpatient clinic east of the main building, Ella noted a truck ahead waiting to pull out of the parking area onto a side street. The passenger in the cab was wearing what was either a black, or dark green hooded sweatshirt.

  “Pull them over,” Ella snapped. “It’s a long shot, but it’s all we’ve got.”

  “The truck’s got a casino parking lot sticker,” Justine said, flipping the sirens off and on to flag the driver. As the truck pulled to one side, Justine glanced at Ella, who was reaching for her gun. “You’re wound too tight, partner. Ease up.”

  “I want the dirtbag who turned the hospital into a shooting gallery. He’s not getting away from me—not for long anyway.”

  Gun in hand, Ella approached carefully, keeping the angle tight as she moved closer to the pickup. While Justine covered the driver, Ella ordered the passenger to step out.

  The person moved slowly and climbed down from the seat. When she pushed back the hood, Ella immediately recognized Cornelia Yazzie—her hair gone from the ravages of cancer therapy. Placing her gun back in its holster, Ella apologized quickly. “I’m so sorry. There’s someone with a gun running around the hospital. He was wearing sunglasses and a hooded sweatshirt.”