After she had returned to her cubical from the scene of her witness’s murder, Angela had located the reports on the Beaumont case in the National Crime Information Center database. From them she had been able to fill in some blanks in Caesar’s information.
Eye witnesses, two soldiers recently returned from Iraq, from a photo of three men at a convenience store had identified for the Reno police that they were the same men seen with a man who was later found murdered. No physical evidence had been found to positively connect the three men to the murdered man, so for now they had been deemed persons of interest. The soldiers had also identified the men’s car as a mid ‘60s four-door Chevy. A car matching that description with the plate number two attentive Lassen County Sheriff’s Deputies had been able to positively link to the three men, had also been found abandoned near the scene where a farmer’s 1982 Ford van had gone missing.
“Yes, good evening,” Caesar said. “I received a report just a while ago that the third suspect has been identified, Henry Rogers. It looks like he goes by Hank, Hank Rogers.”
Someone at Xandar Studios had recognized the photo and it hadn’t taken long to find he hadn’t been on the west coast long.
“What do we know about Mr. Rogers?” Angela asked.
“Well, his neighborhood’s a little different than the TV icon—,” Caesar paused.
Angela Hawk knew he was trying to make a joke, but she was in no mood. His actions had likely caused a man’s death, not to mention the teenage clerk still in the ICU. She waited for him to continue.
“Looking at his rap sheet, he has been a bad boy. He was arrested on a series of drug possessions, breaking and entry, robbery and assault. But even though he spent a few years in Sing Sing, I just don’t see anything that would have escalated to this serious a crime spree.”
“You know,” Angela said and rifled through reports on her desk, “yeah, here it is, Tony Alonso spent some time in Sing Sing as well on a sexual assault charge. Maybe they met there, I’ll check it out.”
“Wonder if there are any open warrants for them in New York?” Caesar asked as he pulled the bag of pretzels open. “I came up empty in California for all three suspects, but it might help us get a clearer picture of Alonso if you check him out. Have you learned anything else?”
Angela heard a crunch in her ear, but ignored it. “We lost them around Susanville, but picked up their trail in western Oregon just an hour ago. One of the suspects used a credit card at a gas station.”
She paused. With her murdered witness, this hadn’t been her week for good news. “I’m afraid something terrible has happened, Caesar.”
“What?” he shouted. “Did you find Natalie’s body?”
“No, but they shot a teenage clerk at the station. He’s in critical condition and may not survive. They left one witness who had stepped into the restroom, but as they fled, they ran over and killed another man.”
“My God, they’re escalating,” Caesar said. “God help her.”
Tony took the keys and contemplated whether he should waste the couple here or take them off into the brush somewhere when he saw the eyes of the man suddenly flick past him. The gun still pointed at the man’s head, he jerked his body to the side. The quick motion threw him off balance. As he began to stumble, and tried to reset his feet, he saw a heavy stone just inches away on a collision course with his head. Behind it, the figure of Natalie draped in her black leather jacket ran around the fender of the Jeep.
His actions weren’t sufficient to get out of the path of the rock. It glanced off his left shoulder and bounced into his face full on. Stunned by the blow, he dropped the gun and the keys within easy reach of the man, and started to fall.
Natalie saw the gun go down as she raced toward the place where Tony had been standing. The man, too, reached for it. Tony’s left foot jerked up and connected with a solid blow below the man’s chin. As he started to fall backwards, Tony crumpled on top of the shrieking woman.
The gun lay unchallenged on the ground. The glint off the nickel plate from the headlights of the van made the revolver look like a search light to Natalie. She continued her stride toward the beacon of safety and reached for it. Her fingers welcomed the cold steel as she wrapped them around the barrel.
“Quick, get to your car and get out of here,” she said to the couple as she turned the pistol to grab the grip.
The man looked up at her, his eyes pleading.
“Come on, go. There’s not much time.”
The startled man grabbed the keys out of the dirt and stood. He pushed Tony off his wife and helped her to her feet.
“Hurry now,” Natalie said. She waved the gun toward their car.
While the couple scurried to the SUV, Natalie looked to where Tony lay sprawled on the ground. He wasn’t moving.
As the man passed Natalie, he said “Thank you, miss, but you seem to be in trouble. Your faced is all bruised, Shouldn’t you come with us?”
Even though the prudent thing would be to run away with them and leave Tony with his face in the dirt, she couldn’t walk away from Rudy. That would seal Rudy’s doom for certain. She wasn’t certain why, but it seemed her presence is what kept Rudy alive to this point. “Please,” Natalie said, “just do as I say. Call 9-1-1 as soon as you can.”
Natalie heard both doors of the Jeep slam close and then the engine start. She stepped out of the vehicle’s path toward Tony and as the Jeep began to drive away the woman rolled down the passenger window and asked, “Are you sure, dear?”
“Yes, go!”
The Jeep continued toward the road and Natalie turned back toward Tony. She could finish this now. Shoot the bastard and be done with it. But no sooner had she thought it than she realized Tony was no longer on the ground. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye yet didn’t have time to react as Tony’s fist slammed into her stomach.
The air in her lungs raced out in a desperate wheeze as she staggered backward and doubled over. She still had the gun and tried to straighten up to search for her target, but it was too late. One of Tony’s fists slammed into her cheek and his other hand grabbed the barrel of the gun. With a twist she thought would break her wrist, Tony wrested it away with ease. Natalie fell to her side in the dirt.
Tony took aim at the Jeep as it continued to recede into the night and fired once. The shot shattered the rear window but the dark SUV continued down the road and out of sight.
“Now you’ve stepped in shit, bitch. You let witnesses go. Get back in the van!”
“Why don’t you shoot me and get it over with?”
“Shut up,” he said and grabbed her arm. He yanked her to her feet and then shoved her toward the Econoline.
“I don’t get it. You didn’t rape me when you had the chance and now for the third time you didn’t kill me when you could have. What do you want from me?”
“I want you to shut the hell up and get back in the van.”
Tony thrust her toward the open passenger door. She stumbled but was able to keep her footing. As she reached the door, she heard Rudy’s voice.
“I thought I heard a shot. What happened to the Jeep?”
Tony didn’t answer, but opened the cargo door and pushed Natalie inside.
_____
©
Jearl Rugh 2012
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