Adios Angel (21 page)

The twenty
mile trip to the old Indian Flats Mine road gave Deputy Steele time to let Josh
in on her theory concerning the guns stolen from his store.  In addition, she
gave him the details she had on Jimmie Joe Walker and his pathological
mindset.  When she explained they would likely be hunting the men on foot,
Josh’s demeanor became intensely focused.

“Understanding
human nature is an art as well as a science,” said Josh.  “Human behavior is as
varied as the individual.  From what you’ve told me, tracking down Jimmie Joe
Walker will be like hunting a rabid coyote.  Ángel will be like stalking an
injured rabbit in his own territory.”

His
directness about human hunting led Kate to ask the question, “How does it feel
to track someone knowing you might have to shoot them?”

“My shooting
days are over.  After six months in Kuwait I vowed never to point a weapon at
another human being,” he answered.  “Working for the border patrol confirmed that
decision.”

Josh’s
response took Kate a bit by surprise.  Her intuitive response was to check her
weapon.

“I apologize
for being so abrupt,” said Kate.  “That was way too personal.”

“No need to
apologize, Kate.  It probably isn’t one of those questions that has an easy
answer. I hunted people--under direct orders.  In war it’s kill or be killed. 
You are hunting or tracking down someone who wants to kill you.  Our unit had a
single mission.  Our job was to track down and eliminate, when possible, the
commanders of the Iraqi forces who were ordering the deaths of Kuwaiti
civilians.” 

“I saw the
picture in your office.  You were playing with a yoyo, and a bunch of kids were
watching you and laughing.”

Josh cleared
his throat.  He hesitated a moment before speaking.

“There’s a
story behind that picture.  It’s not one I’ve told many people.”

“You don’t
have to tell me if you don’t want to,” said Kate.

“Normally I
wouldn’t, but somehow it seems like I should.  It’s not really a pretty story. 
Are you sure you want to hear it?”

Kate did,
and did not, want the facts.  She sensed it was important but did not want to
intrude too deeply into Josh’s personal life.  Somewhat hesitatingly she
answered yes. 

“That
picture was taken on what can only be described as both the best and the worst
day of my life.  We were operating on the Kuwait-Iraq border after hostilities
had ceased.  We were providing food and medical care.  The Iraqi Red Guard had
poisoned the only water supply the village had so we were working on drilling a
new well.  In return we wanted information about any locals who had been
working with the Iraqis.  It was a simple trade off, water for information. 
Most of the villagers were poor farmers.  They weren’t political.  They didn’t
want anything to do with the war.  The village leader agreed to help us if we
would drill the well and build a soccer field for the kids.  We did.  The night
before the first game operatives  sneaked in and planted some land mines in the
middle of the field.  Four of those kids in that picture were killed when one
detonated.”

“I am so
sorry,” replied Kate. 

Josh cleared
his throat again.  As he began to speak his words were raspy.

“I was in
charge of security.  It was my fault.  I became insanely angry.  I vowed to
track down the men responsible and kill them.  But my squad leader, God bless
him, yanked me out of there.  He talked with the commanding officer, and I was
put on the next plane back to the states.  Someone else literally saved my
life.  The nightmare of those children dying still haunts me.  It took me years
to realize that if I had killed the men who killed those kids nothing would
have changed, except I would have ended up fighting even more demons.”

Josh stopped
talking and looked out the window across the desert toward the western
mountains.  His incredible tale left Kate with a hollow feeling in the pit of
her stomach.  She knew that if she pulled the trigger on Jimmie Joe or Ángel it
would be out of duty, not hatred.  Still, it might boil down to just that, her
pulling the trigger and ending a human life.  In the heat of the moment, what
would she do?  Time would tell.

At the
turnoff to the old mine road, Zeb pulled over.  He got out of the car and
crouched in the middle of the road.  Two sets of tire tracks headed up the old
mine road.  One set was extra wide with a deep tread. The other set of tracks
indicated small tires with little tread.  Josh had guessed right.  Zeb picked
up some dirt in his hand.  It was sifting through his fingers when the ringer
on his cell phone buzzed loudly.

“Sheriff
Hanks.”

“Zeb, Max Muñoz. 
Do you have a minute?”

“Not
really.”

“Zeb, it’s
about your brother, Noah.”

Zeb
immediately felt his blood pressure rising.  His fucked up brother was always
inserting himself into his life at the worst possible moment.

“Did your
men find him and that goddamn stolen Corvette?”

“He’s dead,
Zeb, assassinated with a single shot to the head.  He’s been dead for almost a
week.  We’ve got an eyewitness.”

Zeb’s heart
squeezed tightly in his chest.  The pit of his stomach sank like a stone.  Noah
had led a bad life, but he did not deserve to die like this.

“Who, what,
how?”

“The
eyewitness is one of your brother’s  pals.  They were going to get together
after Noah delivered the Corvette to an ex-con named Jimmie Joe Walker.  
Walker was supposedly paying him five hundred bucks to deliver the vehicle. 
The witness was going to meet Noah, but he was running late.  When he came on
the scene, there was a big argument between Noah and Walker.  He stayed hidden
and watched as the two exchanged words.  Without warning Walker pulled his
weapon, plugged him point blank and took off in the Vette.  We’ve got an APB on
the car.  I am so sorry.”

“We are hot
on Jimmie Joe Walker’s trail as we speak.  I’ll get that son of a bitch.”

“Stay cool. 
If you act in anger, you’re likely to make a mistake.”

“I’ll try
and keep that in mind. But give it one second’s thought as though it were your
brother who was murdered in cold blood.  Goodbye.”

Zeb was ready,
maybe even eager in the heat of the moment, to kill the man who killed his
brother.  His red hot anger was juxtaposed by the strange blend of anxiety and
cool calmness that comes with having been tested under stress.

Josh pulled
his vehicle up behind Zeb’s.  Josh got his dogs from the truck’s kennel.  Kate
stepped out of the vehicle.  The look on Sheriff Hanks’ face told her something
was wrong.

“What is it,
Sheriff?” asked Deputy Steele.

“The
Corvette.  Noah stole it.”

“Did they
find it?”

“No.”

“What then?”

“The theft
was a consignment job for Jimmie Joe Walker.  When Noah delivered it…”

Sheriff
Hanks found himself choking back tears as the words he spoke made it suddenly
all too real.  Just as quickly he stuffed his emotions, another little trick he
had learned in his hard life.

“Jimmie Joe
Walker murdered him.  Shot him in the head.”

Kate and
Josh were stunned silent.

“You good
enough to carry on, Zeb?” asked Josh.  “We will understand if you can’t.”

Zeb stared
ahead blankly.  A hawk swooped down, grabbed a baby rabbit and broke his line
of sight. When he spoke again, his voice was calm, assured.

“We’ve got a
killer to find,” said Sheriff Zeb Hanks.  “I’ve been on the first part of this
road before.  It gets pretty rough about three miles in.  Are your dogs going
to be okay in the back of your rig?”

“They’re
pretty tough old boys,” replied Josh. 

“Are they
going to give us away in close quarters?” asked the sheriff.

The dogs
were pawing around, snorting, whimpering and tugging against their leashes.

Josh
unleashed the dogs, gave another hand signal that apparently meant “kennel up”,
and like soldiers instantly obeying a command, they were back in the vehicle,
fully poised, at attention and ready to go.

“Follow me,”
said Sheriff Hanks.

The first
couple miles of the ill-maintained mining road were covered with wild sagebrush
and a variety of scrub trees.  It was passable…with careful maneuvering.  Large
boulders placed every quarter mile were evidence of the tribal desire to close
the road to outsiders. Roughly three miles off the main road the landscape
changed dramatically.  What had been a flat, straightaway became a series of
switchbacks, blind curves and washouts as the road began to climb through a
series of ever increasing elevations. 

“What’s
that?  Over there.”  Deputy Steele pointed into a distant crevasse where
reflected light flickered against the brown landscape.

“It could be
windshield glass,” said Josh.

She removed
a small pair of binoculars from a case on her belt.  “Bingo.  We’ve got
ourselves a yellow Vega.”    

“Scan the
surrounding area,” said Josh.  “Do you see anyone moving around?”

She saw
nothing.  Five minutes later at the top of a stone plateau the team stood
around the abandoned, rusted out, yellow Vega.  Sheriff Hanks popped open the
hood.

“It still
has a leaky radiator,” he said.  “This baby isn’t going another foot.”

Ahead, where
the road once again turned to hardened dirt and crushed gravel, Zeb examined a
single set of oversized tire tracks.  In the Vega, Kate found blood on the
steering wheel.  Josh leashed his dogs and made half circles fifty feet away
from the car searching for human tracks.  He then placed some equipment into a
small backpack and joined Kate.

“Zeb, I’ve
got some tracks here.  They are identical to the ones at the trailer and at the
Madrigal place, said Josh.  “A small man’s tennis shoe.”

Sheriff
Hanks did a slow three-hundred-sixty degree scan of the area.

“What do you
think, Josh?” he asked.

“I think
we’re hunting a hunter.  I’m fairly certain Ángel is going cross country to try
and catch up with Jimmie Walker.  My guess is Jimmie Joe double crossed him and
Ángel is eager for a little vengeance.”

“That young
kid would be taking a helluva chance in this country going against a highly
armed sociopath,” said Deputy Steele.

“But he’s
got one distinct advantage,” said Sheriff Hanks.  “He knows this road like the
back of his hand.  His grandfather taught him to drive on this road when he was
a trucker for the mines,” said Zeb.

“Ángel started
driving this road when he was ten years old,” added Kate.  “Eskadi got that
information for me from some Apaches who worked with Felipe Madrigal.”

“Unless that
young kid is completely out of his mind we can assume he’s got at least some
kind of weapon,” said the sheriff.  “That makes him dangerous to us.”

“Here.”

Josh handed his
truck keys to Sheriff Hanks. 

“I’ll follow
him.  He should be easy to track.  I don’t think he’s going to do much to cover
his trail.”

“Josh, take
this rifle,” said Sheriff Hanks.

“Keep it for
yourself,” replied Josh. 

“I guess with
your arm in that cast you’re not going to be much of a shot,” said Sheriff
Hanks.

“I’ve got
the dogs.  Besides which, I don’t plan on shooting anyone…unless my life or one
of yours is in imminent danger,” replied Josh.  “I gave that shit up.”

Kate knew
exactly what was behind Josh’s statement.  Zeb had a pretty good idea.

“We had
better get moving,” said Zeb.

“Right now
we’ve only got a couple hours of good daylight ahead of us.  I expect Ángel is going
to try and surprise Jimmie Joe up ahead,” said Josh.  “But if what Eskadi says
about the road is right, Walker may well have to abandon his truck sooner than
he planned.”

“Jimmie Joe
may or may not know Ángel is after him,” said the sheriff.  “He may think that
we have him.  We had better assume Jimmie Joe figures we’re not too far behind
him.  Remember Jimmie Joe will be listening for us or anything out of the
ordinary.  We don’t want him to end up hearing us.  Do your best to keep any
noise to a minimum.  If we have an element of surprise on our side, we don’t
want to lose it,” said Josh.

“I’ve got a
set of walkie-talkies in the trunk,” said the sheriff.  “I want you to take one
so we can keep in contact.  In these hills and canyons I don’t know how much
good they’ll do, but they’re better than nothing.”

Zeb, Kate
and Josh all switched their walkie-talkies to silent signal mode, opting for a
continual dual flash of the red light and a buzz as a signal for requested
communication.  In the event of an emergency it was agreed that flipping the
override switch would be the best form of instant verbal communication. Josh’s
vehicle had four-wheel drive and would make the trip better than the police
vehicle.

Zeb shifted
Josh’s truck into low gear.  Haltingly he made his way along the treacherous
winding road.  Josh and Kate headed out on foot, following the tracks of Ángel Gómez. 
As they moved stealthily through a run off wash, Josh crouched to the ground every
hundred yards or so, his animal like senses honed in on the world around him. 
An hour passed before he spoke.

“Ángel’s
lost blood,” said Josh.  “He is tiring and beginning to stumble.”

Kate had
seen two smeared bloodstains on rocks earlier, but other than the occasional
impression of a sneaker in the sand she had spotted little else.

“He’s
bleeding from the head,” said Josh.

“How do you
know that?” she asked.

“The blood
pattern on the rock back there.  The one you noticed.  That blood was from his
hand.”

Josh rubbed
his hand against an imaginary cut on his face, squatted near a rock and used a
flat hand to push himself up.  His muted explanation was perfect.  Blood on the
fingers would leave exactly the smear mark she had seen. 

“I noticed
three other splatter patterns on the rocks.  It was very faint or I’m sure you
would have seen it.  Blood falling from up here--” 

Josh gently
rubbed his hand against her forehead. 

“--would
create a central point with a small splatter pattern when it hit the ground or
something on the ground.”

“Shouldn’t
the blood from his wound be clotting after this amount of time?”

“Maybe it’s
a big cut.  Or maybe he keeps touching it and irritating it.  It could be a
gunshot wound.”

“How do you
know he’s stumbling?”

“He is
walking on the outside front part of his foot, rolling it over and pushing off
his big toe,” explained Josh.  “He’s faltering forward as he walks.  It could
be from fatigue or pain or both.  He had a big night last night.  In all the
excitement he probably didn’t get much sleep.  There’s a pretty good chance
he’s dehydrated too.  He’s probably running on sheer force of will at this
point.  To say nothing of the fact that it must be quite an adrenaline rush to
steal a million dollars.”

“I’m sure it
is,” replied the deputy.  “Most people would do just about anything for a
million dollars.”

“Some people
don’t know there’s more to life than money,” said Josh.

“Like the
thrill of the chase, maybe?”

“You tell
me,” replied Josh.

Josh
Diamond’s double entendre was all too obvious.  Kate took a deep breath. 

“Did you see
evidence at the Madrigal place which makes you think he’s been shot?” asked
Deputy Steele.

“There was a
bloody towel in the driveway culvert.  I gave it to the sheriff.  My suspicion
was that, with this kind of money involved, Jimmie Joe shot Ángel and left him
for dead.”

With the
gradual change in daylight from the sun beginning to disappear behind the
higher hills, the desert temperature cooled down quickly.  Josh’s dogs became
only slightly excited as they began to sense the onset of early evening animal
activity.  These were the most well trained dogs Kate had ever observed.

“The setting
sun is working against us,” remarked Kate.  “Ángel or Jimmie Joe could be
hiding in the shadows just about anywhere out there.”

“Good call. 
You’re right.  We should move very carefully until we can use nature to our
advantage.  We need the advantage of dusk.  Let’s rest very briefly, then get
moving.”

Josh took a
position on a rock just into the shadows.  Even from fifteen feet away Kate
would have missed him if she hadn’t known he was sitting there.

“Drink some
water,” he advised.  “I’ve done a lot of remote desert reconnaissance work.  It’s
very easy to get dehydrated and not even know it, especially under stress.”

She sat,
removed a canteen from her hip and took a long drink.  In the distance
something scurried in the underbrush.

“Small
animal, not our man,” said Josh without moving a muscle.  “But we are getting
close.  Look.”

Josh shined
a small flashlight on a spot half way between them.  It was fresh blood.

“The dogs
found it,” he said.  “Mutt is trained to point his tail downward when he smells
human blood.”