CHAPTER 8
"...So we've got no evidence back on the shooter at all right now and not much to go on with Anderson's death." Matt kicked his boots off and leaned back against the headboard. He had gone back to the ranch to find Paul crashed on the couch. After covering the boy up, he went to his own bedroom where he made the phone call to CJ.
"This is just really twisted. Good grief." She had just gotten done checking on the twins and Catey before heading to the room that she and Matt shared in the Texas home. It was lonely without him there and she had been happy when her phone rang. Now she was worried. "Could it have been intended for you? You were closest to the window."
"I've been wondering about that. It's like whoever did it knew we would be there." He ran his hand across his face. It had been a long day. "I swear, just when it starts to make sense everything just flies all to hell."
"Maybe we just need to get some sleep and start in on it tomorrow, hon. But you better have Paul stay at the ranch. He doesn't need to be in harm's way again."
"Not yet." It had been said without thinking.
"What do you mean?" Ever the lawyer, CJ never seemed to miss a detail.
"Nothing."
"Matt..." She knew from the way he said it that something was amiss.
"I wasn't supposed to say anything. I hope you're better at it than I am; he already signed the papers for the Navy." His statement was met with silence on the other end and he automatically thought of the fight that he and CJ had back when he announced his signing with the Army all those years ago.
"He was going to wait until after graduation. What changed?"
"Don't know. He still won't go in until then. But he hasn't told Vince and Isabella yet."
"She really doesn't want him to do it."
"I know."
"It's a ridiculous thought given the way the world is, but I hope none of the other kids have to be put in a position where they feel the need to join the military."
"CJ, somebody has to do it. You can't just have a country without a military presence – no way, no how. This world is insane. Somebody has to try to keep some order." His statement was met with silence.
"What if it was Kathy or Catey?" She waited for a reply and as the silence on the other end of the line drug on, the thought that her husband knew something more than he was telling crept into her. "Or has Kathy signed up, too?"
"No..."
"Matt...you absolutely suck at lying – especially to me. I've known you too long and too well. What has she done?"
"Nothing...yet. She's just weighing her options is all."
"What kind of options?" The alarm began creeping into her voice.
"I..." He paused. All of the kids considered him a confidant and in a span of less than five minutes he had screwed up twice. "She's just trying to figure out where she wants to go in her life, Babe. You know that. Look, you and I made our decisions. As the kids get older they have just as much right to do that as we did. And you've got to be realistic about it: this country has to have defenders – folks who are willing to lay it all on the line. Just because someone's daddy is rich doesn't give them a pass."
"Seems that I've heard those words from you before."
"And it's as true now as it was then. I don't want our kids to go to war with anybody; I don't want Kathy or any of the Novelli boys to have to do it either. But the world is a screwed up place full of folks who just flat out don't want peace, CJ. Some of 'em aren't happy unless there is unrest – bad as I hate to say it. And whether you're willing to admit it or not you know what I'm saying is true."
There was stunned silence on the other end of the line. CJ hadn't really thought that far into the future of their own children. She dealt in the day-to-day with them whereas Matt was looking at the long term. Sadly, she knew what he said was true. Chances were that at least one of them would be drawn into serving their country.
"You still there?"
"Yeah."
"It's a ways down the road...their roads, Babe. Not our choices. Theirs."
"I know..."
Both were quiet until he spoke again. "I miss you."
"Miss you, too. We'll be there about noon or so."
"Okay. Love you."
"You, too. 'Night."
New Year's Eve Day found Matt waking before the alarm. CJ and the kids would be returning to the ranch and he still had the whole Cicero mess waiting for him. After dressing he made his way to the kitchen to find that Paul was already declaring war on a bowl of cereal at the kitchen table. "Happy New Year. I made coffee."
"Good thing." Houston poured a cup and grabbed a handful of the cereal, thoughtfully crunching as he tried to figure out what to do next.
"So..." Wiping his mouth the younger man looked up. "What are we doing today?"
"You're staying put." The look that the announcement received wasn't a pleased one.
"I thought I was helping you."
"You have been. Now you're going to enjoy what's left of your vacation."
"Because somebody fired a shot."
"Partly, yeah." The PI saw the disgusted look on Paul's face. "You signed up for the Navy, kid. They don't want damaged goods."
"Funny."
"But true." Going back into the den, Matt pulled his pistol and holster from the gun cabinet and headed back into the kitchen, cursing under his breath as he fumbled with the clip on the leg once again.
"Speaking of damaged goods..."
"Shut up, kid." Matt popped him on the back of the head. "CJ and the others will be landing about noon."
"Is that code for "make sure all the dirty dishes are done"?"
"You're catching on. See ya later." All the way down Saddle Peak Road, the PI thought over the case. Clovis Anderson seemed to be tied to the Cicero fire and the murder of security guard Brandon Dewey. If Anderson was indeed the arsonist, then it would appear that Donovan Biggs was behind the burning of the property. As far as Anderson's death, Zachary Evans looked like the most likely candidate for the shanking but since the Texan had been there for less than eight hours, Matt found it unlikely that he had managed to piss off another prisoner to the point of murder. Plus Evans had worked for Biggs as a bouncer in the not too distant past. The sniper attack was up for grabs. If it was intended for Anderson the gunman was at best incompetent; but if it had been intended for Holt, Gunterson, or himself...
Sighing, he decided to go to the Houston Investigations Offices. Since it was a holiday, the parking garage was nearly empty save for the vehicles of the few security guards who were scheduled. He parked the truck and went to the elevator. The ride up to the penthouse suite over, he went up the steps to the office door, entered the security code, and unlocked the door. Once inside he made the required pot of coffee and sat at the bar swiveling around to look out the windows at the skyline. The video of Anderson's murder came to mind and he went to the computer and pulled up the footage. "He was on the phone." Snatching up the phone he called Hoyt. As soon as it was answered he blurted out the question. "Who did Anderson call from jail?"
Michael had just sat down behind his desk. "Happy New Year to you, too. I don't know but I'll find out."
"Talk to you later – and Happy New Year." Hanging up, Houston thought for a second and then began working the keyboard. After several different approaches he answered the ringing cell phone. "He was talking to Lockwood."
"Well if you knew why in the hell did you ask?" Hoyt sounded slightly perturbed on the other end of the line.
"I just found out. I'm looking through Lockwood's phone records."
"And when did you get a search warrant for that, Sergeant Houston?" The lieutenant leaned back in the chair, half-laughing. Guess old habits die hard.
"Screw the search warrant." He continued to scan the numbers and cross-checked them with other numbers of suspects that he had been dealing with during the investigation and then stopped as an unexpected but somewhat familiar name showed up. "Damn."
"What?"
"Lockwood has been talking to Tamara Placer's camera man – Ellis Green." The shock in his voice came through the phone call and Michael sat bolt upright in his chair.
"When?"
"Quite a bit actually." He continued his search. "The earliest contact that I've found so far is about three months ago." Matt stopped, the hair on his neck standing on end.
"Which was right about the time that you took out the restraining order on her. Where are you?"
"At the office."
"What about Paul?"
"I made him stay at the ranch." The PI had stood and turned toward the door that separated the main part of the office from the outer office where his secretary Chris Chase's desk was located. No sooner had he closed and locked the door the elevator chimed. "Somebody just came up in the elevator." He lowered his voice to a whisper.
"Can you see who it is?"
"No, I just got the doors closed and locked before it got up here." Circling around he went to the door of CJ's office that connected to the outer office and double-checked to make sure that it was locked as well. The PI listened as whoever had ridden up unsuccessfully tried to open the door where he was now standing. Moving behind his wife's desk he picked up the phone there and called down to the security desk. "Nobody is picking up downstairs."
"I'm on the way over and I'll send a patrol car." Hoyt hung up and sprang from the chair, grabbing his vest out of the filing cabinet and directing clerk Merlin Jackson to send officers to the Houston Building immediately. Detective Gabby Giovanni overheard her boss' order and met up with him on the elevator.
"What's going on?"
"I'm not sure but I think somebody is after Houston – possibly Tamara Placer's cameraman."
"Cameraman..." She looked shocked. Practically everyone on the force had heard now that Placer had been fired because of the restraining order that she had violated. Not another word passed between the pair as they ran toward the lieutenant's car.
Back at Houston Investigations, Matt had taken up a position just outside of CJ's office that gave him a view of both doors to the outer office, the same feeling returning to him that he had had several months previously. He had spent the better part of a day locked up in the office with Hoyt and other officers when someone had been looking to kill him then. I've had about all of this crap that I'm gonna take. The main doors shook slightly as whoever was trying to gain entry gave them a try. He didn't usually worry about locking the doors or setting the alarm when he was in the office. His focus when he got there that morning had been trying to solve the murders that had resulted from the Cicero fire – he wasn't really thinking about the possibility that someone might once again be after him.
The rattling of the decorative stained glass doors stopped as the PI slowed his breathing, his pistol now in his left hand. He could hear a slight movement in the outer office before a chair came crashing through the doors that were decorated with images of yellow roses. In a matter of seconds Ellis Green was entering the office, a sawed-off shotgun in his hands. "Where are you?!" The anger in the voice surprised Matt who already had the man in his sights before the intruder turned to look in his direction.
"Drop it."
Green pulled the trigger on the double-barrelled weapon, and Houston fired a round at the man as he himself ducked back behind the corner – but not quickly enough to avoid the pain of a few of the pellets that penetrated his right thigh. After a quick breath, he took a peek around the corner and saw the cameraman down on the floor of the office. Another quick peek showed no movement of Green and the PI slowly approached, his weapon trained on the intruder who appeared unconcious, a wound in his left side. Just as he reached out with his left foot to kick away the shotgun, Green grabbed his right ankle and snatched his foot out from under him, sending him into the hot tub that was located only a couple of feet away. Unprepared for the sudden entry into the water and the resulting crack of his head against the seat in the hot tub, Houston began choking on the water that tried to invade his lungs as the man landed on him. Whatever air he had in his lungs came out in a rush as hands went around his throat. Raising the pistol, Matt blindly turned the gun toward his attacker and fired, the full weight of the man now coming to rest on him as his sight dimmed and the buzzing sound in his ears went silent, the darkness overtaking him.
The next thing he knew there were two familiar voices – one calling for an ambulance and the other yelling at him to wake up. Choking on the water being expelled from his lungs and rolling onto his side, his sight came back and he was on the floor of the office, between the hot tub and the bar.
"Damn PI's..." The familiar words echoed around in his fuzzy mind for a few seconds and he realized that Michael was the one who had been yelling at him. It was then that he recalled what had been the cause of his sudden immersion in the hot tub and he tried to scramble to his feet. "Stay put." The cop's hands on his shoulders pinned him to the floor.
"Green..."
"He's dead." The cop looked over at the body that was partially in the hot tub, the upper half floating face down in the bloodied water. Neither he nor Giovanni had even tried to resuscitate the attacker who was clearly beyond help with a gaping hole ripped through his center from the shot that Matt had managed to get off.
