CHAPTER 7
As Matt got ready to leave the ranch the next morning and head to the Sheriff's office, he and CJ shared a hug as the others looked on. "Not sure when I'll be home tonight."
"I know. All I ask is that you..."
"Be careful. I know. Love you." The couple kissed again before Matt started for the door. "See y'all later."
"Go get 'em, boy." Roy watched with pride as his nephew waved back at him as he went out the kitchen door, a mug of coffee in one hand and his bullet-proof vest in the other. Looking over at Mama he saw the concern on her face. "Are you okay?"
"Yes...I just worry about him. Ever since Vincenzo was shot..." She shook her head. "But he's got the vest."
"He's also got a lot of good company out there, Mama." CJ gave her a little hug before sitting down across from the pair with another cup of coffee. "So two days to go before the wedding."
"Maybe we should just elope..." Roy winked at CJ, knowing that Madre Rosa would throw a fit. Sure enough she spun around, the dish towel in her hand as she pointed at him.
"Oh no, you don't!" The elder Houston cracked up as did the other two.
Once at the Sheriff's Office, Matt and the others were called to a special meeting upstairs with Martinez. The plan was to have plainclothes officers attending the court sessions that day. "What has happened is going to be a black eye on this department. We need to make sure that we end this tonight." Everyone agreed. "Naturally, I want this to play out as safely as possible, but I don't want any of you taking any chances out there. You will be wearing your vests and you will not hesitate if you feel your life is endangered in any way. Is that understood?" Once again there was a nod and murmur of agreement. The phone buzzed and she picked it up. "Yes?...Okay, send her in." Everyone looked to the door as CSI tech Michelle Roldofo entered the room. "What have you got for us?"
"Louis Young's prints were on the coin that Houston found at the Starks murder scene."
"Good work."
Houston spoke up. "We have a witness that positively ID'd him as the suspect, too."
"That's great. So we've got enough for a warrant on him. But..." She stood and looked out the window that overlooked Buffalo Bayou and the downtown skyline. "I would like to catch one of these idiots in the act. We'll hold off on arresting Young for the moment – we may have more charges to add before the night is over. I want everyone to meet up here at 3:00 this afternoon. Thank you all."
After filing out of the office and going back down to the squad room, Matt's phone rang just as he was about to sit down behind his desk. "Houston..."
"He's here!" The panicked voice of Marshall Hickerson came across the phone line and the detective immediately reversed course and took off for the front door, a puzzled Chuck following. From the sound of things Duncan was pounding on the door and screaming threats.
"Is your mom home?" The detective opened up the SUV and got behind the wheel as Chuck loaded up with him.
"No...she's at work. I've got the doors locked, but he just picked up a brick and he looks like..." Just then there was the crash of breaking glass.
"Marshall, go out the back door and go to the store on Salina. Chuck, send a unit to 516 Erastus. Domestic assault."
"No, he's found me there before. I'm going to the rail yard."
"Is he on foot?"
"I think so."
"I'll meet you there and we've got a patrol car on the way to your house."
"Okay." The boy threw the phone down and flew out the back door, running as fast as he could southward. Once he was across Salina and out of sight he slowed down slightly and could hear sirens in the distance. When he was almost to Kashmere Street he heard squealing tires behind him and without looking back, knew that it was Eric Duncan. He ran faster and darted out across the rail yard's storage area, his plan to throw Duncan off his trail and go to the spot where Houston had found him before. The whole time he kept asking himself, How did he get out so soon?!
Matt headed straight for the area where Starks body had been found, glad that normally it was only a seven minute trip. He figured it had taken him about three, and as scared as the boy had sounded that was three minutes too long. He came to a sliding stop just short of the pile of cross ties that the boy had hidden behind before. "He isn't here..." Looking around he spied the kid running toward him and a car closing in quickly behind him. Getting behind the wheel once more, he gunned the engine and went straight toward the pair, the man in the car jumping out and tackling the boy, beginning to beat him in the dust and dirt of the rail yard, not paying a bit of attention to the SUV that was bearing down on them.
As he slammed the truck into park, Houston dove out of the door and launched himself on Duncan, catching the man as both of his arms were raised up about to lower yet another blow on the boy. The velocity of his dive carried both men a few feet away and without fully knowing what he was doing, the detective began pounding the man, turning his face into a bloody mess, not stopping until Chuck pulled him off.
"He's out, man, come on!" Chuck pulled with all his might at his friend, finally making him realize that it was over.
His uniform shirt covered in blood, Matt went to Marshall. Although his nose appeared broken and he had cuts all over his face, he was in much better shape than his attacker had been.
"How?" Panting, the boy tried to sit up.
"Don't know. Lay down." Out of breath himself, the detective turned to see Chuck roughly rolling Duncan over and putting the cuffs on him before turning him on his left side as Matt called for two ambulances.
"No..." Marshall struggled, trying to get up to no avail as the cop held him down. "Can't do that."
"Yep, you're going."
"No..."
"I've got you covered, Marshall – it's okay. Your mom won't have to worry about a thing, alright? Now lay still." He stayed on his knees holding the boy's hand until EMS arrived and then rode to the hospital with him while Chuck stayed behind to deal with the aftermath.
"Sergeant, better let me take a look at that hand." The paramedic had already gotten an IV started on the boy and taken down his information before turning his attention to the cop.
"Huh?"
"Looks like your hand might be broken."
"Oh..."
As all three were being processed through the emergency room, Houston sat on the table waiting for an x-ray. The treatment room door opened and as he looked up, both CJ and Sheriff Martinez came inside, the sheriff speaking first as CJ took hold of his left hand. "I've heard what Chuck said – what's your side of the story?"
"How's Marshall?"
"He's got a broken nose, a concussion, and a cracked rib. Plus some cuts and bruises. Now – your side of the story."
"Well..." He paused for a minute and then told her what had happened.
"You messed Duncan up pretty good. He's got a concussion, a broken nose, and a broken jaw." Looking down at his right hand she nodded. "The doc tells me you might have broken that."
"I'm waiting on an x-ray." He looked to CJ and saw the concern on her face. "Sorry, Babe."
"And there Mama was afraid this morning that you would get shot." She gave him a little smile.
"So..." He looked back at his boss.
"So I guess you had good cause..." Looking around to make sure no one else could hear, she lowered her voice. "Next time try not to beat the crap out of your suspect quite so bad...but between you and me – the son of a bitch got what he deserved for terrorizing that kid."
"How in the hell did he get out? I didn't think he would be able to make bail."
"Not sure. I've got people looking into that right now. I'll need you to fill out the paperwork when you get done here."
"Yes ma'am."
Two hours later, after getting a cast put on his hand, Matt stopped in to check on Marshall. The boy was sleeping quietly, his mother by his side holding his hand. When she looked up to see the detective and his wife, Sharon Hickerson burst into tears as she gave him a hug. "Thank you...thank you so much."
"I'm sorry he got out – I don't know how in the hell he did, but I'm going to find out."
"I tried to kick him out three months ago but he threatened to burn the house down with us in it." She turned to look back at her son. "It isn't fair for a kid to have to deal with something like this."
"No ma'am, it isn't. But something tells me you aren't going to be in this situation again – are you?"
"No...never again."
CJ drove him back to the station, fully ready to give him a ride back to the ranch when he was done with his paperwork. The phone on Chuck's desk rang just as Matt managed to somewhat scribble his signature on the papers that he had to turn in. "Wylie..." He sat up straight in his chair. "We didn't think about that.." He listened as Matt's ears perked up. "Uh huh...hang on a minute." He spoke to his friend. "The courts are closing early. Our boys will be hitting the streets in about an hour. Call up to the boss lady."
With a nod, Houston picked up his phone and got through to the sheriff and relayed the message. "Yes ma'am." He looked across at Chuck. "The meeting is bumped up to now. Tell the plainclothes to keep tabs on 'em until otherwise directed." Nodding, the detective did as he was told.
"Hon, you can't be in on this..." CJ started to object.
"We've got to take these guys down, Babe." Standing up, he released the buckles on his utility belt and began moving the holster from his right leg to the left.
"No, Matt."
"It's alright, Babe...go on home."
"You're not going to..."
"The hell I'm not." He looked up, momentarily pausing as he switched his equipment around. "CJ, these guys are not just killing folks, they're bringing this department down. After what we went through when Wade got killed due in part to dirty deputies, I'm not about to sit this one out."
"But your hand..."
"I've got two."
"Matt..."
"No, CJ – go home." There was silence for a few seconds.
"You better not get hurt."
"I won't." A snicker from Chuck caught their attention and they both smiled. "Give me a kiss and go home – the kids will be there any minute now. You know Sheila and Madre Rosa are going to have their hands full. Love you."
"Love you, Cowboy. Even though you are a stubborn old..."
"I'm your stubborn old whatever."
After a hug and kiss she turned and started out, stopping just long enough to give Chuck a hug and whisper something in his ear, his response a nod.
"What was that?" Matt walked with him to the elevator,.
"None of your business." Chuck punched the button for the elevator as Matt fumbled with the clip on his belt, finally getting it closed.
"What did she say?"
"Not telling ya." He looked over as his friend fumbled with the clip on his left leg unsuccessfully. "Here..." He closed the plastic buckle and stood back up as the elevator doors opened. When they reached the secretary's desk she waved them on into Martinez's office.
"Why are you still here?" She looked up in surprise as Houston came through the door.
"We've still got a job to do."
"I appreciate the gung ho attitude but you've got a broken hand there. Go home."
"No ma'am – I want these guys locked up tonight."
"And they will be – go home."
"No." Their eyes locked.
"Houston – you're right handed..."
"I can shoot left."
Martinez saw the doubtful look on Chuck's face. "I don't think so – and neither does he."
"Y'all don't know – I do."
"You might be able to at the target range, but out in the field..."
"I did it in Iraq...on more than one occasion. And I was injured a lot worse than I am now. Trust me on this."
Giving a sigh as the other officers entered, she looked to Chuck. "What do you think?"
"I think you might as well agree – he'll do it anyway."
"You're probably right. Okay...but if you get hurt..."
"CJ already knows it'll be my own damn fault – now let's get on with this." The response came out in a gravelly tone that left little room for argument and the group began making their plans.
"It would help if we knew where these guys plan to meet up." Santana looked around at the group.
"Sheriff, if I can borrow your computer..." Houston looked to the boss and was waved around the desk. With a muttered curse he began typing one-handed as the others discussed their options. Tuning them out, he concentrated on trying to quickly break into Connell's MugBook profile. "Uh huh..." Without realizing he was talking out loud, the detective kept digging, going through the bailiff's private messages. Interrupting the others, he spoke. "The Depot – corner of Sterrett and Williams at 4:00."
"How...never mind." Martinez turned back to the group. "Alright, so now we know where and when."
Santana spoke up. "If they see too many of us in there they'll know something is going on."
"We only need one person inside. The rest of us can be staged nearby." Martinez looked at the group and after a short discussion it was decided that Armando Silva would be in the bar. He went downstairs to change into civilian clothes while the others looked at a map.
"Right here..." Chuck pointed to the map. "There's a pool hall that got shut down last year. We could use the parking lot out back – we shouldn't be spotted."
"Good. Does that work for everyone?" She looked around as they all nodded. "Okay, remember what we talked about this morning – no one, and I mean NO ONE..." She looked directly at Houston. "Takes any chances. Got it?" A chorus of "yes ma'am" went around the room. "Get your gear together and let's meet there in three vehicles. Chuck, I'm calling shotgun."
"Yes ma'am." He smiled and looked over at Matt as they headed out of the office. "Guess you get the back seat."
"I'm not totally unfamiliar with back seats." He cracked up as Wylie rolled his eyes and the others in the group laughed.
"I know – we used to go out on double dates, remember Romeo?"
"If I remember correctly mine were sure more memorable than yours." He watched the numbers change as once again laughter broke out in the car and Chuck swatted him in the back of the head. Back down stairs they gathered up radios and extra ammunition before going out to the lot and meeting Martinez who was also armed.
Pulling out of the lot, the sheriff turned to look at Houston. "Are you sure about this?"
"I am."
"Tell me about Iraq." There was silence from the back seat.
"I'd rather not."
"Tell me now or Chuck's dropping you at the next corner." She stared at him as he remained quiet for a minute, weighing his choices.
"April 4,2003, Hamamiyat, Iraq." He stopped.
"Go on."
"I..." He stopped again.
Chuck looking in the rearview mirror and saw how upset he was. "Sheriff, maybe you shouldn't..."
"Now, Houston."
"You can look it up your own damn self...under Congressional Medal of Honor. I'm not saying another word." The interior of the SUV fell quiet.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." She stopped. "That was just wrong. I'm sorry." She watched as he looked out the passenger side window, the muscle in his jaw working and anger in his eyes. Chuck took her by the arm and urged her to turn back around.
They arrived at the parking lot behind the now defunct bar, probably an eyesore on it's best day when it was still in operation, but now seeming particularly forlorn. As they exited the vehicle, Houston drew in a deep breath trying to calm down and Martinez, starting toward him, was grabbed once again by the arm. "Leave him alone for right now." All trace of humor was gone from Wylie, who like Houston, was often known for his sense of humor. "Trust me."
Matt walked away from the group for a minute, his back turned as he fought with his emotions. April 4, 2003 had been one of the worst days of his life – and there had been many during his four years in the Army. Not only had everyone in his unit been injured that day, three out of the five of them had died as had an unknown number of girls in an orphanage in the small town about twenty miles northwest of Baghdad. After a few minutes, he calmed and came back to the group, his jaw set firmly and a no-nonsense attitude had taken the place of his usual good-humored self.
"Sheriff..." Mario Santana motioned her over. "Silva has eyes on four of them right now. They just came in together."
"Good." The group stood around waiting, the others noticing that the group of Wylie, Houston, and Martinez seemed particularly uptight. A few minutes later Silva contacted them again; all six of the bailiffs were in the bar and drinking. The group in the parking paced restlessly. An hour later the suspects left the bar and headed north on Williams as Silva began following them. The group of detectives loaded up.
The voice came over the radio. "Now east on Rothwell...looks like they're going north...yeah, they just turned onto Elysian."
Martinez directed one of the other vehicles to run parallel on Maury while the others followed behind Silva. Matt looked out as the sun disappeared and the night began to roll in. It was almost 5:30. Silva's voice reported again. "They just turned east onto Lee."
"Sheraton, what's your position?" Martinez waited.
"We're almost to Noble."
"Slow down – we don't want them to catch sight of you at the intersection."
"They've crossed the tracks now...right on Mary Street."
"They're getting close." Chuck tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
"Sheraton, cut down Chase and make the block." Martinez consulted the map on her phone.
Silva spoke again. "I'm stopped at the corner of Lee and Mary. They cut the lights and are running blackout. Looks like they've stopped. I'm on foot."
"Sheraton, cut the lights and come in northbound on Mary Street."
"Copy that."
"Okay guys...here we go." They had just made the turn onto Mary, Chuck cutting off his lights as they slowed to a crawl.
"Third house on the right." Silva was sneaking along the street trying to stay hidden behind trees as he went. "One of them knocked on the door – the others are in the empty lot next door. Looks like they've got a rope."
"We're almost there, Silva." Chuck stopped where he was, pulling to the curb and cutting the engine as did the other vehicle that was following them. "Let's move in, people; slow and easy does it."
In the dim lights up ahead, Houston could see as a man opened the door of the small house and was grabbed by two of the men and taken toward the lot. The group of detectives picked up their pace, trying to remain quiet as they approached.
"They're putting a rope around his neck..." Silva already had his pistol drawn and was only about thirty feet away from the group.
"Now, take 'em down." Martinez broke into a full run as did the others, their flashlights suddenly blinding the group of bailiffs as they attempted to throw the rope over a tree limb.
"Hands in the air! Do it now!" Six detectives' voices boomed out into the night and three of the bailiffs reached for weapons.
"Drop it!" The sheriff took aim at Darren Loftus as he pointed his weapon in their direction, a shot ringing out and hitting Silva in the leg. She fired, dropping Loftus with a shot to the right shoulder.
Connell had also drawn his weapon and now fired as he first maneuvered behind the tree and then ran between two nearby houses, Houston and Martinez hot on his trail as the other detectives went after others in the group. Up and over a chain link fence, they followed Connell, Matt glad that it was only four feet high: he managed to roll over it with his right hand braced against his chest. Across another yard and over a matching fence the bailiff fled, while Matt's long legs helped him to close in on the man. Suddenly he came to a stop, turning to bring up his pistol to fire at Martinez who had just made it up even with Houston. A shot rang out from Matt's gun and Connell screamed in pain, the weapon falling from his right hand as he sank down to his knees and tried to scramble for the gun. Martinez kicked it away from him and rolled him over, quickly putting cuffs on one of her own employees.
The chase was over; all six bailiffs were now in custody and as they walked a cursing Kirby Connell back to the lot, Martinez looked over at the man next to her. "I'm sorry."
"Forget about it."
