Determinant (20 page)

Ray unbuttoned his jacket. He used the inside corner to try to wipe the blood from his face. It would do no good. He buttoned himself back up and continued on to the mansion.

From a block away, the lights from the police cars lit up the neighborhood. The lieutenant must have gotten the word out that Viktor and the girl were there. Ray needed to know if Viktor had been taken into custody. He stuffed his hand in his pocket for his cell phone to call him. It was gone—so was his lucky knife. Ray slipped into the neighboring yard and continued toward the house. Through the bushes he could see at least a half-dozen police cars out front. Ray rounded the brick fence to the back of the mansion. He peered over the top into the house. Police offers huddled and talked in the living room. He watched. More cops joined in. They looked around.

He saw Lieutenant Kane and Callie. The two sat close on the living room couch. He didn’t see Viktor anywhere. Ray followed the fence toward the front of the house. Two patrol cars parked outside the home’s entryway. An officer stood at the rear door of one of the cars. There was someone inside. Ray couldn’t tell who. He moved a few feet for a better look.

“Shit.”

Viktor was in the back. The police had him. There was a single cop outside. Ray pulled his gun. He grasped the top of the brick fence to pull himself over. The cop’s back was to Ray. He wouldn’t stand a chance.

Ray hoisted himself up on the fence and dropped a leg over the other side. His movement stopped before he swung himself over. Four more officers rushed down the front steps of the house. Ray froze. Five cops were too many. He’d be arrested at the minimum. Ray retreated into the darkness.

Callie handed the cell phone back to Detective Jones. She just wrapped up a phone call with the Deputy she had been dealing with at the U.S. Marshal’s office. Callie sat next to me on the couch in the living room and rested her head against my shoulder.

“Are they coming?” I asked.

“Yes. They should be here within the hour.”

“And then?”

“I’m not sure.”

Sergeant Mueller approached. He held my service weapon, wallet, phone and keys—everything that normally resided in my pockets. “Is this stuff yours? I found it in the kitchen.”

I nodded and took the pile of my belongings. “Thanks, Mueller.”

I turned back to Callie. “Are they going to take you somewhere else? Hide you?”

“I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Is that your choice?”

“I don’t care what they say. I’m not leaving you.”

“Did you not trust me enough to tell me?”

She shook her head. “I asked Deputy Klein if I could. He forbid it. I trust you with my life, Carl. I should have just told you anyway.”

“Can you tell me what your involvement is?”

“I’ll tell you everything. Where do you want me to start?”

“From the beginning.”

“OK.” She paused. “I worked at a club Viktor owned called Napitok. From the first day I started working there I could tell something was off. The club had a lower level that was off limits to employees. They had some high-tech hand print security thing on the door leading down. The employees would joke and gossip about what might be down there.”

“I take it you found out?”

She nodded. “I walked past the club on a Sunday heading to the store. I had an apartment just up the block. The club was always closed on Sundays, but Viktor’s car was there. I figured I’d pop in and get my paycheck. We got paid on Saturday nights, but I had off. I walked up to the front door and noticed Viktor’s trunk was open a crack. I went over to close it. When I lifted the lid to slam it, I saw what was inside. The trunk was filled with clear plastic totes. Each one was stuffed with hundred dollar bills—the old kind. The back seat of his car had the same totes filled with more money. There was so much—too much money to count. It couldn’t have been from the club. I walked in and saw the door leading downstairs open. I glanced down. Ray and Viktor stood next to a big machine. Viktor inspected the sheets of bills coming from the side of the machine. Ray cut the sheets and loaded the money into the plastic totes. I got out of there right away.”

“You went to the police?”

“No. They came to me. Well, not the police, the FBI.”

“How did they come to you?”

“I guess FBI had been looking into Viktor for racketeering charges. Ray wasn’t on their radar. He’d just come back from somewhere in Russia. They had surveillance set up on the nightclub. When their video caught me leaving the club in a hurry, they contacted me. I told them everything I saw. They asked me to try to get them one of the bills.”

“Did you?”

“I couldn’t. I never saw the hundreds again after they took them from the club. They wanted me to stay working there and watch for anything else. I told them about the case that Viktor always had with him.”

“This is the case he was looking for?”

She nodded. “He guarded the thing with his life. They wanted me to try to find out the contents, except he’d never leave it anywhere. It never left his sight. Then one day, for just a few minutes, he left it in his office. I guess a fight broke out inside the club. Viktor left his office to go see what was going on. I went to look in the case but it was locked. Viktor’s surveillance screens on his desk showed him coming back. I didn’t want to find out what would happen if he caught me snooping around his office, so I grabbed the case and left out the back. I turned it over to the Feds and never went back.”

“So you didn’t have the case at your house?”

“No. I was trying to warn you by telling you it was in the closet. If I’d just told them that I turned it over to the Feds, they would have killed us both.”

“What was inside?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t actually know. I’m guessing something to do with making counterfeit money. The Feds wanted me to testify, to which I agreed, and they set me up with the U.S. Marshal’s office. The Marshals moved me here right away. They were worried that Viktor would come after me.”

“I guess they were right.”

“I’m so sorry, Carl.” Callie let out a long breath. “Alright, let me do this. I’ve been waiting a long time.”

“Do what?”

She looked me square in the eyes and grabbed my hand. “My name is Calista Albero. Everything about me is fake. The house, the furniture inside, the car, it’s all property of the U.S. Marshal’s.”

“What’s real?”

“Me. The two of us together. That is real. Every conversation we’ve ever had. Every laugh. All those things are real. Me being in love with you is real. The fact that I’m pregnant is definitely real.”

I sat quiet, unsure what to say.

“Do you still want me in your life? I mean, I guess I understand if you don’t. Everything about me is made up. I’m not a bartender. Well, I guess I am now. I took the hostess job as part time work while I attended classes. I was in school to be a Radiologist. Everything I have is someone else’s. All my stuff is in storage somewhere. I don’t own the house, I don’t own the BMW. I’m just a…”

Her rambling was cut off when I pulled her in and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Yes. I want you in my life. I don’t care what material items you have.”

The officers in the house started heading for the front door. Chatter came over the radios.

“Something is going on. I have to go check on this. Are you going to be OK here?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me.”

I got up from the couch. I found Hank coming my way. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“We got a ten-double-o from the scene of the Bentley.”

“When?”

“A few minutes ago.”

“Ray?”

Hank shook his head. “Gone.”

“Shit. How? What happened?”

“Torrey and Susco reported to the Bentley. Torrey got there first. He was attacked. Susco got shot.”

“Shot?” An empty feeling filled my gut. I left Ray with his Desert Eagle. “How bad?”

“I’m not sure. I’m heading over there now.”

“Hold on. I’m coming with you.”

I went back to Callie and handed her my phone. “Ray got away. I have to go. Call Hank’s phone as soon as you get something figured out with the Marshals. Just look through the contacts for Hank Rawlings. Don’t disappear on me.”

“He got away?”

“I’ll find him. Call me, OK?”

She nodded.

I gave her a quick kiss and met Hank at his car out front. I slid in and pulled the seatbelt over me. He pulled out.

“Did you run the plates on the Bentley?” I asked.

“Wesley Brewer. He owns the house as well. We tried multiple phone numbers, but didn’t get anything.”

“Age?”

“Sixty-six.”

“The guy in the trunk wasn’t that old.”

“We’ll get an I.D. on him. Hey, reach in the glove box.”

I opened it up. A badge lay inside. Burnt leather surrounded the shield. I grabbed it and gave it a closer look. It was mine. “Why do you have my badge? Why is it burnt?”

“I pulled it out of your Corvette.”

“Why is it burnt?”

“You don’t know?”

I shook my head. “Know what?”

“Someone lit your car on fire.”

I let out a puff of air through my nose and rubbed my eyes. “Great.”

Hank pulled from the subdivision out onto Interbay Boulevard. We’d find out the condition of the officers in a minute. We neared the spot where the Bentley crossed lanes. Five squad cars were pulled onto the sidewalk. The lights from an ambulance lit the backyard where the car crashed into the tree. Hank and I made a U-turn and pulled up onto the sidewalk behind the other cruisers. We hopped out.

The group of EMTs administered tests to Torrey sitting on the grass. Three more EMTs wheeled someone back to the ambulance on a stretcher. I jogged over. They had just loaded him inside. I looked in and didn’t see any blood. Susco wore an oxygen mask. He pulled it from his face.

“You took a shot?”

“Shot me in the damn chest. Vest did its job.”

I stood in shock. I couldn’t figure out how he was alive. If Ray shot Susco with the Desert Eagle, Susco should have been dead, vest or not.

“Did he use Torrey’s service weapon?”

“No. Torrey’s weapon never left his hip.”

“Do you know how lucky you are? If it he didn’t use Torrey’s service issue, that shot came from a .50 caliber Desert Eagle.”

“Fifty, huh? That’s why my insides feel like Jello?”

“The level-two armor shouldn’t stop a bullet of that caliber.”

He coughed. “Not level-two.” He nodded at the vest lying on the grass outside. “We just got new SWAT vests. They’re supposed to be able to stop a forty-four round. I guess you can add a .50 caliber to that list.”

I slapped his boot. “Glad you’re alright. I’d write a good review for that vest company.”

He nodded and put the mask back over his nose and mouth. I took a step back and one of the EMTs closed the doors.

I turned to him. “What’s the extent of his injuries?”

“I’d guess cracked ribs—possible internal injuries. We’re about to head out now.”

“Alright, thanks. Make sure he’s taken care of.”

I walked to Torrey. He scrunched his face in pain. Red contusions covered the side of his head. His nose was swollen and bloody.

“Are you going to make it?”

He smirked. “Think so. Guy packs a wallop.”

I pointed to the gashes on my face and head where he clocked me with his brass knuckles. “I know. Run me through what happened”

He rubbed at the back of his neck. “He ran out of the tree line at me. His arms were behind his back like he was cuffed.”

“He was,” I interrupted.

Torrey continued. “I went for my weapon—he got to me first and lifted a boot up into my face. I went down. He kicked me in the head again. I don’t remember anything after that. When I came to, I saw Susco rolling on the ground. He was trying to call something over his radio but couldn’t get a response. I called the
officers down
in.”

“You didn’t see which way he went?”

“No. He must have used my keys to get out of the cuffs though.” Torrey pointed down at the side of the car. My cuffs lay in the grass. I picked them up.

“How long ago did this happen?”

He looked at his watch. “A half hour ago.”

I rounded all the officers on the scene up. “Let’s spread out and start searching. I’ll call in more guys. He left here on foot thirty minutes ago.”

Ray spent another ten minutes behind the fence watching the scene at the house unfold. A number of cops, including the Lieutenant left. The car that had Viktor in the back stayed put. Two black trucks pulled up and parked behind it. Four men exited wearing black suits. They had to have been Feds. Ray needed to leave town, the quickest way possible—the Illusion. The yacht club where the boat was docked sat just a few blocks to the east. Ray dipped through the backyard. He passed the tennis courts and an outbuilding. He crossed the street.

The parking lot was lit. Lights shined on the thirty foot palm trees lining the perimeter of the brick two-story clubhouse. The interior of the building was dark.

He rounded the main clubhouse on the south side and passed the lap pool. He headed for the covered docks. Three men worked under the engine bonnet of a large racing boat. Ray would need to pass them to get to the Illusion. He ducked his head and walked toward the boat. He watched the guys out of the corner of his eye. The dock was dark aside from the work light they used.

“Are you heading out?” One of the guys called.

Ray kept walking. He glanced over. The three men stared over at him. Their faces were lit from their work light. It would make it hard for them to see him. They wouldn’t notice the blood on his clothes. They’d see nothing more than a silhouette. Ray threw up a quick wave. “Yup. Just a little early morning spin.”

“Going solo? Need a hand casting off?”

“End slip. It should be pretty painless.”

“End slip?” The man questioned. “Down here?”

Ray pointed in the darkness. “All the way at the end.”

The man waved back. “Um, alright. Enjoy.” They turned their attention back to whatever they were working on.

Ray pressed on. The Illusion was three slips away. He boarded the boat. Ray stepped up to the helm console and fired the twin engines. He gave the fuel gauge a tap with his finger. He’d only taken the boat out a few times. There was enough fuel to get him two hundred miles—a hundred fifty to be on the safe side.