Edge of the Heat 3 (5 page)

Sometimes Hawk wondered how Craig had managed to keep his happy nature after Lucy’s murder. Sure he grieved, but even during his grieving he was normally in a lighter mood than Hawk on a good day. Hawk sighed. It was just a fundamental difference in their personalities, he guessed. Craig just let things roll off his back. He accepted the good with the bad and didn’t make a big deal out of either. Every day found him positive and thrilled to be alive. Hawk was more of a thinker. A ponderer. He wanted to know
why
. And he wanted to be in charge of his own life, his own destiny. When your sister is murdered by a dirty cop, it leaves no illusion that you actually are in control of anything. Hawk hated that. He wanted to be in control of everything.

Hawk watched the traffic behind him in his rear view mirror. A black Chevy Tahoe had pulled into traffic at the same time as he had and now was pacing him, 5 car lengths behind. He would have to keep an eye on that.

This afternoon’s mission was simple. Tail the guy the Senator was having lunch with right now and figure out who he was and if they should be watching him. Craig would call him on his cell if the guy left the restaurant before he got there. 

Hawk pulled into the parking lot of The Riverboat and waited to hear from Craig. He watched the Tahoe drive past and figured it must have been a coincidence.

He watched the door to the restaurant and let his thoughts go. As usual they ran over everything he had to do, making sure he hadn’t missed anything. Vivian’s DNA swabs had been sent to the CODIS laboratory 3 days ago. Check. He had last seen Norman Foster 1 week ago and he was supposed to go see him again tomorrow at 3 p.m. Check. He had talked to the warden this morning and arranged putting Foster in general population overnight tonight, with a discreet guard. They wanted him to feel threatened, but not actually be shanked by someone. Check.

Well that was his to-do list. Now he had to be a little more tight with his thoughts and keep them under closer watch so they didn’t go off in some direction he didn’t want them to. Sometimes his mind wanted to do stupid things, like think about women and get him all worked up, when he knew there were no women in his life and there hadn’t been any for a long time.

Except Vivian. She’s in your life, she could be in your life more,
some small part of his mind whispered.

Hawk gritted his teeth and shut that part down quickly. That is exactly the kind of thing he didn’t want to think about.

His phone rang, startling him.

He picked it up. “Go.”

“They are paying the check,” Craig said, relaying the information the hostess had given him.

“Got it, I’ll be watching for them.” Hawk hung up the phone and started his car, then hid behind a newspaper.

The door opened and the Senator came out, alone. He got into his silver Bentley without a glance Hawk’s way. Hawk saw his tail, a young agent from the local office, start up his car and follow him. The door opened again and a man fitting the description they’d received came out. He was short, only about 5 feet, 5 inches tall, but dressed better than the Senator in a gray, pinstriped, Brioni suit. Hawk shook his head. His outfit probably cost $11,000 but it didn’t hide the holster and gun he wore under his arm. That, plus the dark complexion, and quick, darting eyes screamed LA mobster to Hawk.

The man got into a flashy yellow Hummer H2. Well, at least he would be easy to follow. Hawk jotted down the license plate number. The Hummer pulled out, and Hawk followed, staying back as far as he dared. He looked in his rearview mirror and felt his blood pressure skyrocket. The black Tahoe was pulling out into traffic from roadside parking. The bastard must have gone around the block and parked where Hawk couldn’t see him.

He called Craig. “I’ve got the plate.”

“Shoot.”

Hawk read off the plate to Craig and waited, hearing the click of Craig’s keyboard in the background.

Craig whistled in the phone and said, “You’re never gonna believe this one.”

“Let me guess, LA mob.”

“What? How did you know?”

Hawk laughed. “He fits the type. What’s the name?”

“Johnny Frabrazio, of Altopra Hills, Los Angeles.”

“Got it. We are heading west on Ridge Avenue. He’s not in a hurry. Now I’ve got something you’re never gonna believe.”

“What?”

“I’m being followed. Black Tahoe. Since headquarters.”

“Shit. Got a plate?”

“Not yet. I’ll call you back when I do.” Hawk hung up, trying to watch the car in front of him and the car behind him at the same time.

Hawk thought for a second and then decided to stop following Frabrazio. They knew his name, they knew what he was driving. They didn’t know why he was visiting the Senator but things could get really easy if the FBI was already watching Frabrazio for any reason. Maybe there was someone undercover in the mob’s operation or maybe the FBI already had permission for a soft wiretap on him. He made a mental note to have Craig contact the LA office and see as soon as he got back.

Now it was time to deal with this his tail. Why in the world would anyone be following him? He was determined to find out.

He floored the accelerator and felt his truck jump forward underneath him. He watched the Tahoe fall back, the driver probably surprised and wondering what in the heck he was doing.

Hawk smiled to himself, feeling satisfaction sweep over him. This was one of his favorite parts of the job. Anything unexpected that got his adrenaline going made him happy.

Hawk flew through traffic, utilizing what he learned in numerous tactical driving courses, swiftly losing the Tahoe. He changed lanes frequently, swerving left, then right, then bearing right quickly down a side street and disappearing behind a parked RV next to a black warehouse building. He waited. The black Tahoe flew past, never seeing him.

Hawk grinned and pulled out onto the road again. Now it was time to get this guy’s plate and go home. He found the vehicle and came up slowly behind it until he could read the plate. Then he fell back, hiding his truck as well as he could in traffic and turning around at the first opportunity.

Once back at headquarters he wrote the license plate number down and ran in to start his investigations. Craig was on the phone. When he hung up Hawk turned to him.

“Call LA offices and see if we have any permissions on Frabrazio.”

“Already done. There’s nothing right now. He just went to trial for drug running, murder, and money laundering but it ended in a mistrial. The prosecutor is deciding on whether to try him again right now, but he’s been clean as a whistle for months and their soft tap has expired.”

“Damn,” Hawk swore, wondering why he would possibly be here in Westwood Harbor meeting with Senator Oberlin. Was the Senator getting desperate? Was something big about to happen?

Hawk pushed that out of his mind and walked to his computer, intending to find out who had been following him. He entered the license plate swiftly and blinked in confusion when the information came back.

Craig came and looked over his shoulder. “What in the hell?”

Hawk stood up and paced. “Why in the world would Drug Enforcement be following me?”

Craig shook his head. “I don’t know man, but it can’t be good.”

Hawk grabbed his phone. “Don’t I know it,” he muttered under his breath. “Who do we know in the DEA?”

Craig grabbed his phone and flipped through his contacts. “Mack, Bade, uh, that’s all I’ve got.”

“Ok, plus I’ve got Alexander and Trip. Who is highest ranking?”

“Mack I think, he’s the assistant special agent in charge of the whole western region.” Craig was already dialing.

Hawk stepped away and tried to wrap his mind around this whole thing. There was no reason in the world for the DEA to be following him. They only followed people they were investigating, and they only investigated people suspected of running drugs. Suddenly, Hawk felt very claustrophobic in the dimly-lit headquarters room, like the walls were closing in on him. He glanced at Craig, who had someone on the phone and was jumping right into business. Then he turned and walked to the door quickly, trying not to feel like he was fleeing from his life.

He walked down the corridor and pushed the door open into the bright sunshine. He blinked, and checked his truck. It was right there where he left it. He looked up and down the road, half hoping to see the Tahoe parked nearby. If he did, he could run to it and rip the door open and demand to know why he was being followed.

Hawk leaned against the side of the building and fought the feeling that his world was crumbling. In a few moments Craig pushed his way out the door.

“He wouldn’t tell me anything,” Craig said.

“Oh? So there is something to tell?”

“For sure. As soon as he heard who I was calling about his walls went up and he got defensive.”

“Shit.
Shit!
Do you think Bade would spill?”

“I don’t know Hawk, probably not, I don’t know him that well.”

“Ok, I’ll call Trip. He and I go way back.”

Hawk dialed the number, scared of what he would hear. His buddy, James Trip wasn’t in, so he left a message and hung up.

“I guess we’re going to have to wait.” Hawk looked up and down the street again. “I feel like checking to see if that guy magically shows up again if I leave. Want to go for a drive?” Hawk asked, heading for his truck.

“Yep.” Craig locked the door and climbed in.

They pulled out onto the road slowly, peeling their eyes for any tail. After a mile they had to admit they didn’t have one.

“H
ey, you should come to our house for dinner tonight,” Craig told Hawk.

“Well, I got some stuff to do at home.”

“Come on man, it will just be the three of us. Emma would love to have you over.”

Hawk thought for a second. Part of him didn’t want to go because he was afraid he would run into Vivian. That part of him would love if Vivian moved back to where ever she moved here from and he never saw her again. If he never saw her again he’d never have to think about why every time he saw her, his heart started beating fast and his palms started sweating.
Oh Lord, what is wrong with me,
Hawk thought, rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah, that would be great. What are we having?” Hawk asked, trying to keep the sudden exhaustion he felt out of his voice.

“I don’t know, I’ve got to pick something up at the grocery store.”

“Ok, but I’m buying. I’ll drop you off at your truck and then we’ll meet at the Safeway by your house?” Hawk asked, pulling into the parking lot of their Headquarters building.

“Yep. See you there. Keep an eye out for a tail.”

15 minutes later, Hawk and Craig met up together in the meat aisle of the grocery store. Hawk picked out two t-bones for the grill and a 12 pack of Bud Light while Craig grabbed some side salad fixings.

They went up to the self checkout lanes and scanned their items. Hawk slid his debit card and it was denied. “That’s weird,” he said under his breath and tried his credit card. That card was denied also. Panic seized Hawk around his midsection. The black cloud that had settled over him when the license plate came back as belonging to the DEA suddenly exploded into a thunderstorm. Hawk tried every card in his wallet and they all were denied.

Craig looked at him, identical fear on his face. They dropped their groceries and walked swiftly to their trucks, eyes alert, watching for government agents with guns.

“Make sure you aren’t followed and pull into the garage. I’ll have it open for you,” Craig told him.

Hawk nodded and climbed into his truck.

The ride to Craig’s house was uneventful. Every siren he heard or police car that went past him made Hawk’s heart leap in his throat, but none of them were meant for him.

Hawk took a circuitous route through the neighborhood, and when he was satisfied no one was following him he pulled onto Craig and Emma’s street. Immediately, he saw Vivian’s little Jaguar parked out front. His heart started beating even faster than it already was.

He slowed and slid his truck right into the garage next to Emma’s car. Craig was already inside the garage, and he put the door down immediately. He held an RF detector in his hands.

Craig and Hawk entered the little house through the garage, but they didn’t say a word. Hawk’s mind tried to chatter, but Hawk very deliberately put a muzzle on it, determined not to think about either Vivian, or this mess he had just found himself in.

Emma and Vivian were sitting at the little table in the kitchen, Emma still in her uniform. Emma smiled and got up to give Craig a kiss. “Hi Hon, you brought Hawk, how wonderful. I hope you guys brought dinner too.”

Craig pulled Emma close and whispered something into her ear. Emma’s brow furrowed. “Ok.”

“No, we didn’t get dinner, maybe we should order out.” Craig’s voice rang through the kitchen, falsely cheery and loud. Vivian looked around, confused. She opened her mouth to say something and then snapped it shut again.

The men walked up to the table and emptied their pockets, then did a check of each other’s clothes, looking for small stickers - anything someone could have stuck on them that might be a bug, but neither saw anything.

Hawk’s phone buzzed and he picked it up among the wallets and change and other things on the table and looked at it. As he read the text message he felt the noose around his neck tighten further. It felt like death to him.

Don’t text me back. Not my phone. Don’t call again either. I looked up your name and you are on the wire. Meth and Heroin. Smuggling. Selling. Donahue SAC. Can’t tell where evidence came from, files above my security level. That’s all I know.

Hawk showed the message to Craig. Craig’s eyes went wide. Then angry.

Craig got a notepad from a drawer and wrote
Basement? o
n it. Hawk wrote back
is there another exit?
Craig nodded.

Craig whispered again into Emma’s ear. Emma nodded and made to follow him. Craig shook his head no and motioned that she and Vivian should stay in the kitchen. Emma’s face tightened and she pointed at the basement and nodded her head yes, forcefully.
We are going.
Craig sighed, apparently knowing to argue would be pointless. He motioned for them to empty their pockets on the table, which they did, and they all headed downstairs.