Death in Her Eyes (A Mac Everett Mystery Book 1) (30 page)

“Watch it Stan, there are three tangos down. They may still be alive.

I stood slowly and immediately saw Ashton panting, sprawled at an odd angle on the floor. A blossom of red was expanding from a hole in her chest. Over by my apartment door, General Hunt was face down next to the overturned bookcase, his .45 still in his hand.

“Clear Stan, come on in,” I shouted.

Stan burst through the door, his Glock in his right hand.

“Put it down Mac and get ‘em up,” he said, as he trained his Glock on me. “What the hell are you doing?”

I put the .380 on the desk and raised my right hand. The left hung loose at my side as the wound started to burn.

“It’s all over Stan. I think the blond is still alive, better call the paramedics.”

“Turn around and spread ‘em Mac. I’m takin’ you in,” he said.

“Sure Stan, but let me show you some things first. Howdy L-T,” I said as Lt. Raven burst through the door huffing and puffing. Logan and Deeds were on his heels. Even worn out from the stairs Raven still wore his familiar sneer. “Hey, what's the matter with your L-T Stan? He having a coronary, I hope?”

“Cut it out, Mac,” Stan said. “What goes on here?”

“It’s a long story Stan, a long twisted story. I shot that one by the back wall and the one over there,” I nodded in the direction of the general.

Deeds was checking Nancy for a pulse, but I knew it was no use. The general hadn’t moved so I guessed he was gone too.

“Her name’s Nancy Cameron. She did Sharon Greer tonight. I think she shot the tennis coach and Detective Wagner too. I’m not sure about Taylor.”

“Who’s that?” Stan asked.

“That is General Hunt.” I said. “This,” nodding toward Ashton, “is Ashton Hunt, the general’s daughter.

“Who shot Ms. Hunt?” Raven asked. He smelled blood in the water.

“They had the drop on me until you rang the bell. I used this backup piece when the lead started flying. My Beretta is in the corner. Cameron’s shot hit me, Ms. Hunt and blew out the window with the first few rounds. I put two in her chest.”

“And the old guy?” Raven asked.

“I was on the floor by the desk. He threw a couple shots at me. I fired. I think it was four times. I dropped him with the second volley.”

Ashton groaned as Logan hovered over her.

“Can I talk to her Stan?”

“Sure, Mac.”

Raven tried to object, but Stan cut him off. Stan was first on the scene and as such, in charge. No matter how much Raven wanted me, he’d have to wait.

Stan will pay for that
, I thought.

I knelt down next to her as she rasped out a few words, “We could…have been together…”

“Sure we could have kid, you, me, and your millions.”

“I…I’m sorry.” She smiled as she clutched my hand. She lifted up as though she wanted to kiss me, but fell back. I looked into her pale green eyes. There was only fear in them now. I think she finally realized nothing, not her money, her looks, even her considerable feminine wiles, could get her out of this spot. She’d dealt her last card and it was a joker. I didn’t know if she would make it. The wound was bad, real bad. A weak smile was on her lips, but death was in her eyes.

A couple EMTs hustled in followed by two more pushing a gurney up the stairs. One look at Ashton was all these guys needed. With little discussion, they started an IV and applied a pressure bandage to her chest wound. They sprang to work packaging her for rapid transport. There was no time for detailed triage. One of the guys saw my bleeding shoulder and slapped on a field dressing. “Call another unit for this guy, will ya’,” he said to one of his partners.

“Mac,” Ashton called as the EMTs put her on the gurney.

I stood back and let the medics work. I tried to see her through a frantic sea of blue uniforms.

“Mac,” she said again.

I looked at Stan and he nodded. I pushed my way to her and took her hand as they strapped her onto the gurney.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “We could…”

I remember seeing the same glassy look in Stan’s eyes when he hit that IED in Iraq. I knew it meant he was a goner and I lied to him. I told him he’d pulled through, but I didn’t think it was going to work this time.

“Hang in there Ash,” I said. “You’ll pull through, hold on.”

She gave me a weak smile. Her eyes fell closed as the EMTs began to roll her out.

“That’s a bad one, Mac,” Stan said as he stood next to me and we both watched her disappear down the steps. “I don’t think she has much of a chance.”

“I know, but I had to give her hope,” I replied.

I looked at him and saw he recognized what I had done.

“That’s what you said to me, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yeah, and I didn’t believe it then either.”

“But I did. I believed it because you said it. Thanks.” He drew himself up to his full height and reasserted his role as investigator. “The Hunts are wrapped up in this?” Stan asked.

We turned toward the window as a siren wailed outside, jarring us as Ashton’s ambulance raced away.

“Wrapped up with a pretty bow, it’s a family affair,” I said once I regained my focus. “I’ve got some exhibits for you.”

He squinted trying to make sense of it. I wished him luck.

As I walked back to the desk, I said, “Ashton’s .45 is there next to where she fell,” I said as I walked by a .45 in a pool of blood. “Cameron’s is there next to her body. I’m not clear who shot which of the victims. I think I know, but the lab will tell you for sure.” I said pointing to the two guns on the floor. “Those two pieces will match the slugs in Rad Wozninek, Luck Taylor, and Kristin Wagner,” I muttered. “Cameron said she’d stabbed Greer. I’m guessing she’s cashed in her chips.”

Stan shook his head as he looked around at the carnage with bewilderment.

“I haven’t touched anything,” I continued, “so you should get good prints.”

“Who killed Stephanie Hunt?” Raven demanded.

“The general did that one. That’s a
very
long story.” Looking at Stan, I said, “I need to open the desk drawer. Is that OK?”

Stan nodded and Raven fumed. I took Ashton’s envelope of cash from the center drawer.

“Here’s ten large Ashton used to suck me in. The oversized retainer should have tipped me off, but she did a good job distracting me. I’m a sucker for a short skirt and a pretty smile.” I hated to lose $10,000, but I was in this for the win. “If you check with the general’s bank you should be able to match these serial numbers with the blackmail payoff.”

“Blackmail,” Raven shouted as he scrunched his eyes and frowned.

“You ain’t heard the half of it, L-T. I’ve got a lot to tell you. Sharon Greer and Stephanie were shaking old man Hunt down for twenty-five million, but he told Ashton it was two rocks.”

“Why blackmail? These people were loaded,” Raven demanded.

“Gambling debts owed to some tough customers, but hold your horses. That’s your motive for Luck Taylor. Cameron had a personal beef with Greer. She dummied up a lawsuit to get her fired and make a bundle. Then she recovered the blackmail money and bumped Greer off. I don’t know where she dumped the body, but she said the money is in the car. I bet it’s parked someplace nearby. There’s more, but we can talk about that down at headquarters.”

Stan looked at me as if I had two heads and Raven was licking his chops.

“Here,” I said, taking a digital recorder out of my pocket and handing it to Stan.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“That’s the icing on the cake,” I replied.

“Hey! It’s still running,” he said.

“You can turn it off now it you like. Everything said in this room tonight is on that digital recorder. No missing minutes to raise doubts about the confessions.”

“Who confessed?” Raven roared.

“The general and Cameron were both singing. Ashton copped to some of it too. You can’t tell your players without a scorecard. I know you’re disappointed L-T, better luck next time. Well, shall we get on down to headquarters so we can get this all on tape?” I suggested.

“Mac, you need an ambulance. Sit down why don’t you?” Turning to Deeds, he said, “Run downstairs and see if that second ambulance is here yet.”

Deeds took a powder, disappearing down the steps. I realized how weak I felt so I didn’t argue. I slumped into the chair. Seeing the shot of rye on the desk, I slammed it.

“Ah,” I said as I wiped my mouth. “That’s awful.”

“What’s this all about?” Stan asked.

“Ashton said there was never enough,” I replied, “but greed kills.”

Stan shook his head, and said, “What a waste.”

“Yeah, it always is,” I said. “Come on, let’s get going. It’s going to be a long night. Hey, you mind calling Charlie Ross for me?”

“Sure Mac, he’ll have you out by morning.” Stan cuffed my good arm behind me and slipped the bracelets through my belt as he said “Sorry to have to do this Mac. You know the drill.”

“It’s OK Stan. Once you guys hear what’s on that recorder even Raven will want to let me go.”

Stan walked me down the stairs. I gave Dave a smile as I went past him and the regulars at the Dunk Monk, and walked out into the night. The EMTs were just opening the second meat wagon. A light mist shimmered in the white lights of the open ambulance door. Red strobes flashed in the wet sheen on the sidewalk. I looked up expecting to see a dark sky, but the moon highlighted a line of low clouds that wept onto the earth.

“Watch your head,” Stan said as he climbed into the ambulance next to me as rain began to fall.

“The State Attorney decided to take the case to a grand jury,” Charlie Ross said. He was wearing his ‘lawyer face’, concerned, but in control.

It had been nearly five weeks since the firefight in my office. My apartment and office were still sealed off, an official crime scene. I was tired of living in a motel. Maybe a grand jury could put an end that nightmare.

Charlie sat down in the room’s only chair and put his feet on the bed.

“They had no choice,” I said, “with seven bodies to account for including one of the state’s most prominent citizens. At least Cary Hunt got sprung.”

“Yeah that’s good, but as for you, well they should rule the shootings justifiable, but with a grand jury you never know. They could charge you with Conspiracy, Manslaughter, or even Felony Murder. There is always Assault with a Deadly Weapon too. I’m sure we can beat anything they come up with, but you never know.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “I know what I did was right and I wouldn’t change anything… except for Kristin Wagner.”

I regretted Kristin’s death most of all. Ashton had her master plan, but I got Kristin involved. She was truly in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“They’ll want you to testify,” Charlie began. “I don’t want you to take the stand. There’s too much at stake.”

“I’ll testify, Charlie and I’ll answer every question. I owe it to Kristin.”

“Are you always going to be stubborn?” he asked.

“I guess so, Charlie.”

A week later, the grand jury convened. The law enforcement and laboratory witnesses testified for four days. Charlie advised me, again, not to take the stand, but I figured I’d acted in good faith. If twenty-one ordinary Joes thought I’d screwed up, I’d take whatever came. I was on the stand two days. They asked a lot of questions, but there were no surprises.

As my representative, Charlie sat through all the testimony, even though he couldn’t ask any questions. He told me when they played the tape of that night in my office there was no doubt what had happened and that I’d told the truth. They indicted Ashton for murder, conspiracy to commit murder, fraud, and any other damn thing in the statute book they could find. Ashton died from her wounds the next day, seven weeks after catching a bullet in my office. I had gone to the general’s funeral, but I skipped Ashton’s.

“Mac, are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Charlie Ross asked. “Commercial real estate can be risky. This is a huge step for you.”

“Charlie, what if I never take a risk?” I replied.

“It’s never too late to back out of a deal like this. Are you sure?” Charlie asked for the hundredth time. “You have no experience in property management and you’re putting in too much of your own money. What if…”

“I appreciate your concern, but I believe, no I know I can make this work,” I replied. “I got a great interest rate on the loan. The seller is paying for all the repairs the inspector recommended including a new roof. Dave has raised the money to buy the Drunk Monk. I’ve confirmed things with his bank. He has some awesome changes planned and I’m helping him finance the renovations.”

“Did he sign the lease I drew up?” Charlie asked. “Never do business, even with a friend, without a contract.”

“Yes, Charlie, he signed it. We’re all set.”

“Do you have leases from the other tenants?”

“You know I do. I have signed leases for the two office suites on the second floor
and
the Drunk Monk. I had to show all three of them to the bank. The rent from the bar and the new office tenants will about cover the mortgage.”

“Remember, you can write off your office space.”

I knew Charlie was looking out for me, but this deal was too sweet.

“I won’t be paying rent on my office
or
apartment any more either. Look, you’ve always given me good advice, but I’m sure this is the right thing.”

We were sitting in a little room at the title agency waiting for the closing agent. Charlie was doing what he does best, running through the contingencies, finding ways around them and checking them off. He was right though, buying the building was a big step. I’d never owned anything bigger than my car and most of those payments were late. I had more clients than ever, but I needed to make an investment in my future. There would never be a better time.

“Look, I still have a little money left from the settlement with the county,” I argued. “Business hasn’t slacked off one bit since the Hunt business. My arm doesn’t even hurt when it rains. It’ll be OK Charlie. I know it will. It just feels right.”

“I’ll help you any way I can. We’ll find you a good tax advisor, management advice, but Mac it’s… oh hell, good luck Mac,” he said as he jumped up and gave me a hug. “If your gut tells you it’s the right thing, who am I to stand in your way? I’m proud of what you’ve made of yourself Mac. Your business, cleaning up your life, I’m proud of you.”

“That means a lot to me Charlie. You’ve help me out of some tough scrapes. I’m grateful and your opinion is important to me.”

There was a knock at the door and we traded a glance. The closing wasn’t for another thirty minutes.

“Come in,” Charlie said.

The door opened and there stood Cary Hunt dressed casually in a long sleeve shirt and slacks. His complexion was decidedly darker than the pasty jailhouse one he had the last time saw him.

Charlie stood then looked at me, but I sat in stunned silence wondering what was happening.

“Mind if I come in?” Cary asked.

“Certainly, come in,” Charlie said. “How can we help you?”

“It’s more about how I can help you,” Cary replied. “Mind if I sit down?”

Charlie indicated an empty chair and Cary sat across the table from Charlie and me.

“If you’re here to initiate legal action, I have to warn you…”

“Hold on there, counselor, that’s not why I’m here,” Cary said. “I’ve come to settle accounts.”

That sounded a little ominous. The gunfight in my office left Ashton fighting for her life. She’d have stood trial and my testimony would have put her behind bars if she’d lived.

“Look Mr. Hunt, I’m sorry about how things turned out, really I am, but I told both your father and sister the chips would fall...”

Cary cut me off, holding up a manicured hand. “Hold on Mr. Everett,” he said. “You did the right thing. He lowered his head and fell silent for a moment then raising it again said, “You said you’d follow the evidence and you did. The outcome was tragic, but it’s over.”

“You said you wanted to settle accounts,” Charlie interjected. “If you’re not here to complain, what can we do for you?”

“It’s like I said,” Cary replied. “It’s what I want to do for you.”

Charlie and I exchange a confused glance.

“I understand you’re purchasing some property and have some renovations to do,” Cary began.

“How did you know about that?” I marveled.

“I follow real estate transactions and I try to stay informed. I know this cook over at the Embassy Suites. He knows about everything. Mr. Everett, I still owe you your fee, but you haven’t submitted an invoice and it has been more than a year.”

“It didn’t seem right to send you a bill when your father and sister were killed.”

“You promised to get me out of jail Everett and you did,” Cary said. “I owe you for that. It’s their fault things turned out the way they did.”

“That’s pretty generous considering,” I said.

“What are you proposing?” Charlie asked. Charlie was never one to pass up a deal without hearing the details.

Cary opened leather folio, took out a piece of paper, and handed it to Charlie. “That’s a blank certified check. Use it any way you like, perhaps at you closing,” Cary said. His smile and his piercing green eyes reminded me of Ashton.

“I own Hunt Construction now and we will do your renovations,” he added. “I’ll fund the job personally.”

Charlie spoke first. “This is very generous, thank…”

I cut him off. “No, it’s too much,” I said. “I could have put your sister in prison for life, but instead I got her and your father killed.”

“My father’s situation is complicated, but Ashton got herself killed,” Cary said
.
“She plotted to kill her father and all those others. She would have killed me too when she’d had a chance. Her gambling debts were astronomical. I never knew...” he lowered his head again. When he looked up, he continued, “I thought I knew my twin sister, but I couldn’t have been more wrong about her. I never realized how much she resented dad and me or that there was so much evil in her. I feel betrayed and worry if I have the same corrupt soul. Remember, she was my twin.”

I remembered all right, looking at him, all I saw were Ashton’s light green eyes staring back at me. I also remembered seeing the life draining out of those eyes on my office floor.

“You were hired to do a job,” Cary continued. “You did a damn good job and I can pay you whatever I damn well want too. Shut up and take the check.”

“But you don’t know how much you’re taking on,” I said. “It’s a big commitment.”

“Doesn’t matter, I can afford it. I’m Martin Hunt’s sole heir. Ask your lawyer. I can write it off.”

I looked at Charlie, who shrugged back at me.

“Contracts?” Charlie asked.

“We’ll use an open ended contract,” Cary replied, “and no strings.”

“I have no objection to that,” Charlie said. He sat back in his chair still trying to find a down side.

“Well, I guess we have a deal,” I said. I stood and shook Cary’s hand across the table. “Thank you, Mr. Hunt.
I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s me who should be thanking you,” Cary said. “If I’m ever in a jam again, I’ll be calling on you.”

“I’ll be there if you need me,” I replied. “I have a couple questions for you. Do you mind?” I said.

“I guess,” Cary responded, “shoot.”

“It’s about the general,” I said. “I found some articles online about his investigation in Viet Nam. They left me wondering what really happened. Some of the things he said that last night have bothered me. Did he tell you about his time in Viet Nam?”

“A little,” he responded.

“From the things he said that night, I’m convinced he killed your wife. What I’m wondering though, is had he done it before?”

“You mean did he kill those women in Viet Nam? What he said, when he talked about it, was that life was cheap over there. The whole country was at war and life was cheap. He called it a special kind of hell that changed him. He needed to see value in life or he would have gone crazy. He started reading the Bible over there.”

“Yes, but do you think...”

“Do I think my father murdered twenty bar girls in Viet Nam? He told me he wanted justice for those women despite what was around him. He said they were all prostitutes, but it didn’t matter, every life had value. No Mr. Everett, Wan Tran killed those women.”

“He mentioned that thing about the value of life that night,” I responded. “What do you think changed?”

“My wife was a mercenary gold digger, a blackmailer, an out of control gambler, and I was blind to it. Eventually she would have destroyed our family. I think he saw what she had become and lashed out to protect me. The saddest thing is he betrayed his principles to do it. Killing my father was the kindest thing you could have done for him, Mr. Everett.”

Finally, this last part made a little sense.

“Thanks, Mr. Hunt,” I said.

There was a knock at the door and a frail woman in a shift and wearing glasses hanging from a chain around her neck stuck her head in. “Hi, is this the Everett closing?”

“Yes, ma’am, come in,” Charlie said. “I’m Charles Ross, representing Mr. Everett.”

“Oh we’ll need some more pens. I thought the seller wouldn’t be appearing today. Are there any other changes?”

“That’s OK. I was just leaving,” Cary said.

Charlie handed me the check and I stared at it.

“Good luck Mr. Everett and thanks for everything,” Cary said. “Call this number when you’re ready for those renovations,” he said as he handed me a business card.

He shook my hand again and then he was gone.

Charlie looked at me and said, “Remember that objection I had earlier to this deal? I withdraw it.”

“Shall we get started?” the closing agent asked. “My name is Madge and I’ll be doing your closing today,” she said as she took a seat and opened a six-inch thick folder. “Mr. Everett the seller has stipulated a power of attorney can be used for the entire transaction. Do you have a check for the down payment with you today?”

I hesitated. The certified check was burning my fingers. I held my future in my hand. “There will be one small change ma’am. I’ll be paying the full amount with a certified check. That won’t be a problem, will it?”