The Pawnbroker (20 page)

*   *   *

It turned out Nancy and her two houseguests had already eaten, so they picked up some Five Guys burgers and ate on the way. The first questions Nancy had when they arrived were about the morning's drive-by. Their conversation was private by design—Ruth remained in the living room with Rene, mother and son reading together.

“So far nobody but me in the department knows the details of this little Westside story rumble you had with, what, seven guys?” Nancy said. “That alone could be motivation for today's drive-by.”

Charlie shrugged. “There's more to it than that.”

“It further confirms that two separate gangs were involved with Baza. We already know that the guys in the van were from a heights group, the ZanoPaks, not the WezDawgz,” Nancy added. “And Eddie Henderson spoke to them while they were staking out Baza's place.”

“We were set up by someone from this side of town—this Ruby chick. The shooters were WezDawgz for sure, we recognized the car,” Charlie said. “Ruby must have told the gang or maybe Eddie that we were hot on his trail. He got the Dawgz to do the hit, and Ruby was told how to set us up. She all but led us to that high-rise—the only one in the area.”

“Baza sold guns to two or more gangs, Ruth confirmed it. We know it was through Eddie, that came from one of the WezDawgz the other day. He must have either been tight with both crews or paid them well to do his dirty work,” Gordon said. “And then there's Ruby.”

“Eddie slipped her some cash, count on it. People will do a lot for guns and money. Didn't you hear that Eddie was well-funded? For a guy with no record of a job, that smacks of something illegal,” Nancy responded.

“Maybe he's working for someone who's dirty and very rich,” Gordon said. “Someone at the top of the food chain.”

Charlie looked at him and nodded. Gordon, getting the message, nodded back. They looked at Nancy, and suddenly a light bulb came on for her.

“Ruth's husband, who has almost unlimited resources and is extremely bent—according to her,” Nancy said, nodding. “Just how far would he go to find and snatch her and Rene back?”

“And get rid of anyone who gets in the way, like Baza, Gina…,” Gordon said.

“Or us,” Charlie finished. “Ruth says she's never heard of Eddie Henderson, but she was still covering up her own situation when you showed her his photo. Let's show it to her again and see if her story changes this time around.”

Nancy nodded. “Eddie was looking for someone named Ruth at that GA Foods warehouse, right? We need to press her on the issue. But let's not do this in front of the boy.” She looked up at Gordon.

“Okay. I suppose I can be forced into hijacking Rene and playing a couple of levels of Super Mario in the kitchen.”

Ruth—as she still insisted on being called as long as she was hiding out—stared at the photo of Eddie Henderson for just a few seconds, then nodded.

“I wasn't so sure before, it's been several years and people change. But yes, I saw this man with Lawrence a couple of times. It was never up close, and I didn't learn his name. We were never introduced—he was part of what one might refer to as my husband's entourage—the help. At the time, the man had longer hair and was a little heavier. Now that I think about it, Lawrence may have mentioned that he was part of his security detail,” she finally said, handing back the picture.

“Did you see him at your residence or at your husband's place of work?” Charlie asked, trying to get a handle on Eddie.

“I saw him when my husband was driven home. He rode in the front passenger side, like he was security, and he got out of the limo first, then looked around before he opened the rear door for Lawrence. I don't know about work. I never went to my husband's office, or on business trips, especially after he started getting … abusive.”

“How was the Eddie guy dressed? Did you ever see him with a weapon?” Nancy asked.

“I think he had something on his belt beneath his jacket—a pistol, maybe. He wasn't wearing a suit when I saw him. It was usually something like slacks and a casual jacket. No tie. He never looked like he was dressed for a business meeting, more like for the golf course or a sporting event,” Ruth said. “And he never spoke.”

“Was he still working for your husband when you … left?” Nancy asked.

“Can't say. By then, I was pretty much a prisoner in my own home, and the country home staff and security were always around me. I bet someone got fired, or worse, when I managed to get away,” she said, shaking her head. “Too bad. Most of them were nice people. Unfortunately, Lawrence had convinced them I was unstable.”

“Do you think your husband could resort to violence?” Charlie asked.

Ruth rolled her eyes. “If you're asking whether he'd do to others what he did to me, I'd have to say no, unless they were obviously a lot weaker—or a woman. Lawrence is a vicious man, but he's also a coward and a bully. He'd be too afraid of failure to do it himself. He'd hire it out.”

“Even have someone murdered?” Nancy asked.

“Oh, he'd be careful so it couldn't be traced back to him, but yes, he'd order someone killed if they caused problems. I know him well enough to see the monster inside.”

“We think he sent Eddie Henderson here to track you down and get rid of anyone who got in his way,” Nancy said, glancing at Charlie.

“That sounds like something Lawrence would do. He could be incredibly patient at times, waiting for just the right moment. How long he knew or suspected I was here, I just don't know. But he had to act because Diego was going to take me and my son out of the country. We were going to have a new life where we'd be hard to find. I'm guessing that either this Eddie person killed Diego, or else hired someone to do it for him,” Ruth concluded.

“Like a gang member?”

Ruth shrugged. “Maybe. It would be better for Lawrence if the link between him and the killer wasn't so direct. My husband would hire someone like Eddie, then let him handle it without mentioning Lawrence.”

Charlie looked over and caught Nancy's attention. She nodded, and he knew they were both thinking maybe Baza's killer was someone in that black Acura today, or maybe one of the young men in the van.

“And if that person ended up dead at someone else's hand…,” Charlie said.

“Hard to make the connection when the shooter is out of the picture,” Nancy finished.

Charlie stood. “With that thought in mind, I think that Gordon and I need to track down the woman who set us up. I got the idea that DuPree was going somewhere else first.”

Ruth looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Set you up?”

“There was an incident earlier today,” Nancy said quickly, I'll fill you in.”

“We'll get going,” Charlie said. “If Eddie is getting rid of loose ends, we could lose the connection.”

“Be careful,” Ruth said.

“Uh, sure,” Charlie said.

“Be ready for anything,” Nancy added. “One of these days, a gangbanger is going to get lucky and start getting hits on you two.”

*   *   *

Twenty minutes later they were on their way to find Ruby, who supposedly lived at an apartment building in the city of Rio Rancho just northwest of Albuquerque. They'd called her office, but the manager answered the phone and said she'd left for an emergency dental visit.

“So, you think Ruby'll be at home?” Gordon asked, driving north on Coors Boulevard, approaching the same shopping center where'd they'd nearly been gunned down.

“I wouldn't be surprised. She'll want to maintain a low profile for a few days after setting us up,” Charlie said.

“Yeah. And if she finds out we survived the drive-by and can tell APD who led us into a trap, she might want to get out of town.”

“On the other side of the coin, what if the guys who botched the job are thinking the same thing? If any of them are still in good enough shape, they might be waiting for us to show up at Ruby's,” Charlie said. “Hoping to correct their aim.”

“We've reloaded. Bring it on.”

Gordon sped up, taking the bypass leading up onto the mesa and Rio Rancho proper. The GPS told him that Ruby Colón's apartment was in the oldest section of the city, just west of the second stoplight leading in from the south.

“It's the next left,” Gordon said, pulling into the turning lane in the median of the six-lane street.

“Three-story place on the right, two blocks down—a puky green color,” Charlie said, looking over at the GPS display on the dash to confirm the visual.

“We're finally well strapped—two-gun Charlies—if you'll pardon the expression. Here's hoping Ruby isn't packing an AK-47 and a RPG.”

“I won't pardon the expression, but I'll let you off with a warning. And I thought you were convinced Ruby's a lover, not a fighter,” Charlie said, checking his primary weapon, the Beretta .380. He'd topped off the magazine since this morning.

“There's the same VW Bug we saw where she works, parking sticker and all,” Gordon said, pulling into the asphalt parking lot of the long, one-apartment-deep rental housing. “No obvious gangbanger rides, so that's good news. Maybe she
is
alone.”

“This place looks like a relocated Route 66 motel from the fifties,” Charlie said. “Ever see any of the old ones with the pueblo look, flashy neon lights, and the fifty-foot arrow stuck into the ground in the parking lot?”

“Just in
National Geographic
. Hey, remember I grew up in the big city. Tall buildings, cold winters, bus exhaust, guys puking in the streets, rats,” Gordon said, climbing down from his side of the truck.

“Yeah. I'll take sand, the smell of piñon resin, and clean air,” Charlie said, walking toward the ground-floor apartment second from the end. On the sidewalk were skid marks in the layer of blown dust, like something had been dragged in or out of the apartment.

“I'll cover the back.” Gordon circled the building to watch the alley in case Ruby tried to duck out a back door or window.

Charlie walked up to the door, then stopped, looked, and pulled out his pistol. The entrance had been kicked open. The jamb was splintered, the lock askew, and there was a boot print in the surface of the sheet metal door.

He stepped back and tried to look inside, but was unable to see much of anything because the venetian blinds darkened the room. His eyes in constant motion, Charlie brought out his phone with his left hand and touched the menu key. “Call Gordon,” he said.

“What's up? Door's unlocked back here,” Gordon said.

“Front's been kicked in. Step back, hold your position, and keep watch. I'll clear the living room, then let you know when to move inside. Stay connected.”

“Copy,” Gordon replied.

Charlie pushed open the door with his foot, keeping to his left and using the door frame for protection, remaining out of clear view from the window. “Hello, Ruby, are you okay?”

He took a quick look, saw something big and black on the carpet inside, then ducked back quickly. It was a trash bag.

“Shit,” he said. “Either she's suddenly cleaning house, or there's a body bag on the floor.”

 

Chapter Fifteen

Squatting low, he looked around the door frame into the open room, pistol out, arm half extended. There were two big trash bags on the rug, dirty and dusty, like they'd been dragged across the ground. One question answered.

He came in low, sweeping the room with his gun hand. It was furnished with low-end furniture and a third trash bag. There was a nearly black, reddish smear on the carpet next to one of the bags, where it had been torn open, probably from catching on something while being dragged. A bloody hand was sticking out up to the wrist. He could tell it wasn't Ruby since she'd been wearing nail polish.

“Three big trash bags hauled in from outside—smells like three bodies—at least one, for sure. There's also blood on the carpet. I'm moving through the apartment next,” he said. Inching around to his right, he looked past a partition and counter that divided the kitchen area from the living room. The kitchen was empty, and to his right on the back wall was a door leading out the back.

Charlie put away his phone, his actions on automatic. He'd searched hundreds of rooms in the past few years. “Come on in. We need to clear the bedroom and bath and check for survivors. Then we can call 911.”

Gordon entered, weapon out. He leaned over the counter, covering the hall, and Charlie moved around the corner.

Charlie could see into the bathroom, but not through the dark blue shower curtain. Inching his way toward it, he noticed the bedroom door to his left was open. There was an open carry-on type suitcase on the bed, and women's clothes tossed inside.

Charlie signaled with two fingers for Gordon to watch the bedroom, then took a quick look in the bathroom. He shook his head. Empty.

Gordon inched up to cover him, and Charlie took a look through the gap between the open door and the jamb. Nobody behind it. He stepped into the bedroom, leading with his weapon, and noticed open drawers and clothes scattered everywhere. The closet was open—nothing but clothes, shoes, and a few plastic storage boxes inside.

“Clear,” Gordon said, looking beneath the bed. “Where's Ruby? In one of those leaf bags?”

“You wanna look?”

“Not really. Let's think about this a minute before we call the cops,” Gordon said. “Otherwise, we may have to wait for days to get any intel from this place. This is outside APD's jurisdiction.”

“You're right. Okay, Ruby ratted us out to someone who wanted us dead, either Eddie or one of the gangs, or both. But she didn't stick around work after calling us. She came home, or at least her car did.” Charlie looked around and saw a purse on the dresser. He stepped over and examined it. “VW keys on the top—and a wallet inside. No cell phone.”