Hunters, Page 2

  3

  “Benjamin, this photocopied map is barely legible. You’re going to have to navigate while I drive.” Sherry handed him the map and slid her hand into his front pocket to retrieve his keys.

  He grinned. “You search for those keys a little longer and we’re gonna skip the barbecue altogether.”

  “You think so? I didn’t make corn casserole and chocolate chip cookies for all of your cop friends just so that you could get laid.” She dangled the keys from her index finger. “Get in the car Detective.”

  “Fine. But you drive really careful. I don’t want Corn Casserole getting sloshed around in my floorboard.”

  Sherry was very careful to follow his directions to the letter- even when she knew there was a shorter route than the one he was navigating. After turning onto Monica’s street, it was easy enough to locate her house, as it was the one at the center of the cluster of cars parked up and down the block. “Is this it?” Sherry paused in front of the house that she knew belonged to Monica Martinez and waited for her husband to verify the address.

  “Yep. And there’s a spot two houses down, across the street.” He folded the map and slid it onto the dashboard. He glanced back at the house as Sherry turned off the car. “It’s quite a turn out. That Martinez is a real brown-noser.”

  “And you are an ass, Ben. Be nice. We haven’t been invited to a big barbecue in a while.”

  “Aren’t I always charming once you get me out in public?”

  Sherry let her eye roll answer his question. “You get the cookies. I wouldn’t want the heat from the casserole burning your tender hands.”

  He followed her up the sidewalk, carrying the plate of cookies, as instructed. At the front door, they found a sign directing them to the gate at the side of the house. As they approached the gate he could see balloons tied to the fence and hear music playing in the backyard, but there wasn’t much crowd noise. “Awfully quiet for so many people,” he observed. A gust of wind blew, causing a balloon to swoop down and whack him on the side of the head. He stopped in his tracks and looked at the balloon. “Aw, crap.” He said, shaking his head.

  “Keep walking, Benjamin,” Sherry warned.

  He took three more steps and saw the crowd gathered in the yard.

  “Surprise!” They all shouted- almost in unison.

  “Almost,” he said under his breath to his wife. He smiled and let them engulf him. Officer Martinez waited in the background for everyone else to greet the guest of honor. When the receiving line had run out of old age jokes, Benjamin nodded to her. “Martinez, I was just telling my wife on the way over here what a brown-noser you are.”

  His wife punched his shoulder.

  He winced.

  Monica smiled and unfolded her arms. “So, did we pull it off?”

  “I have to admit, you got me,” he confirmed.

  “Sherry called Sherman and he dragged me into it, thinking you’d never suspect this if we did it at my house. I guess he knows you pretty well.”

  “And don’t think I won’t pay for it,” Sherman said from behind his partner.

  “You got that right, son.” Glade turned and clapped him on the shoulder. “I don’t know how you let him sucker you into this, Martinez, but… thanks.”

  “I told you, she’s sweet on me,” Sherman said. “You don’t think she did this for you, do you?”

  Monica winked at Sherry, “Don’t kid yourselves, you both know I did it for her.”

  Sherman looked at Sherry and smiled. “I see your point, Martinez. She is a lot better looking than I am.”

  “Doug,” Glade tightened his grip on his partner’s shoulder, “Let’s go get a beer and talk about all the reasons why you are not allowed to flirt with my wife.”

  As they walked away, the ladies heard him ask, “Why does Martinez get to flirt with your wife?”

  Sherry turned to Monica, “How on Earth do you put up with those two at work every day? I can barely handle them one at a time.”

  Monica laughed. “You’re gonna to think this is strange, but I don’t actually have to see them every day. I just make it a point to seek them out as often as I can.”

  Sherry opened her mouth to speak but when no words came out, she just shook her head.

  “Your husband,” Monica explained, “is constantly gruff with me, and his partner is always pretending to flirt with me. But I see right through them. Glade is protective and Sherman is always making sure that I don’t let the job get to me. They’re like brothers to me.” She smiled. “But they’re both jackasses so don’t tell either one of them I said that.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.” Sherry lowered her voice. “And speaking of secrets… If this is none of my business, please say so. But, Ben tells me that he thinks you’re… gay?”

  One corner of Monica’s mouth turned upward. She had never confirmed nor denied the implication to anyone at work, though she felt it was fairly obvious. She nodded almost imperceptibly.

  “Well, in that case,” Sherry said, “I have a niece…”

  ***

  “I recorded something for you,” Nora said and picked up the remote to the DVR.

  “The news?”

  “Yes.” Nora ran through the WOAI broadcast until a picture of Jennifer Golden appeared on the screen. She stopped the recording and rewound a few seconds to the beginning of the story.

  The photo of Jennifer was quickly replaced by a brief video of Malcolm Cole’s perp walk. The anchor stated that the trial of the former jail guard would begin in less than two weeks. “I do not know,” a man’s voice said, “that justice will be served.” A graphic beneath his interview footage identified him as Jeremy Golden- victim’s brother. “My sister is still missing. She needs to be legally declared dead so that Malcolm Cole can also face murder charges.” The news feed returned to the studio where the anchor stated that there were currently no plans to change Jennifer’s legal status from missing to dead or to charge Malcolm Cole with murder.

  Nora stopped the video playback and erased the recording.

  Jennifer Golden leaned forward and put her head in her hands and started to cry.

  4

  “Nora, how can you let her go?” Olivia asked a bit too loudly.

  “No one is a prisoner here, Livi.”

  Olivia paced the kitchen floor between the island and the refrigerator. “You are taking far too many risks lately. You’re putting us all in jeopardy.”

  “This is my house, my program and my decision,” Nora snapped.

  “I would never have helped you take her if I had known you were just going to let her walk out the door a few weeks later. She knows where we are, and she knows who we are. This compromises our safety, not to mention hers.”

  Jen stepped into the kitchen and looked back and forth between the two women. Olivia was seething. Nora was resolute. “I didn’t ask to be brought here,” she said calmly.

  “You didn’t ask?” Olivia exploded. “He was in your back yard. Do you think he came there to apologize for doing that,” she pointed at Jennifer’s scars, “to your face? We saved your life.”

  “I know and I am grateful. I didn’t ask to be brought here, so I don’t really know where here is. I rode here lying down in the back of an Expedition. I haven’t left the grounds. And I would be glad to ride home lying in the back of an Expedition with a bag over my head if it makes you feel better. But I want to go back to my life.”

  “A life that we gave you. And in return, you could jeopardize ours.”

  “But, I won’t,” Jen insisted.

  Olivia huffed. “You don’t even have a family to go back to. There’s only your brother… and you hate him. Some of us have had to give up so much more. And what will you do when Cole gets out of prison? Do you think we’re coming back to help you when he comes after you again?”

  “We will,” Nora said, “if you need us.”

&nb
sp; Jen nodded to her.

  “What?” Olivia spun and looked at her. “It doesn’t work like that.”

  “It works however I say it works, Livi.”

  “Well, then let’s just call a press conference and announce that she’s alive and well.” She stalked out of the room, still complaining.

  “I will drive you down to the bus station in Corpus tonight. I’ll give you enough cash so that you can get a bus back to San Antonio from there.” Nora said.

  “Thank you,” Jen breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You don’t have to leave. You don’t have to stay. But you can’t come and go. It really doesn’t work like that. And I will have to ask you to lie down in the back of the truck until we are in Corpus. You knowing exactly where we are isn’t safe for us, or for you. Just stick to the story that we discussed.”

  “I understand.”

  ***

  When Detective Sherman reached his desk, he noticed that Glade was on the phone, frowning. Given that he was usually frowning the expression gave nothing away. Sherman sat down, swiveled his chair to just the right angle and propped his feet up on his desk. He pulled the top off of his fresh, steaming cup of coffee and took in the aroma. He raised the cup to his lips.

  “Put a lid on it,” Glade said as he hung up the phone. “We got a body near Olmos Park.”

  “Well, shit. I’m not awake enough to drive anywhere.”

  Glade shrugged. “I stayed up and watched the same basketball game you did last night and I’m ten years older than you, so you, my friend, are driving to the scene while I catch a nap.”

  “You’re a jackass, Benjamin,” he mumbled.

  “You should use your dubious charms and get Martinez to drive us around. I’ll bet you ten bucks she’s gonna find a way to show up at our crime scene anyway.”

  Sherman chugged half of his hot coffee. “Why are you so hard on her all the time? She’s a good person.”

  “Yep.”

  “And a good cop.”

  Glade stopped and turned to look at him. “Is she?”

  “She’s less stupid than I was at her age. And I’m still alive.”

  Glade shook his head. “A ringing endorsement.” He continued walking. “You’re alive because you got lucky.”

  “How so?” Sherman finished his coffee and tossed the cup in a trashcan near the door.

  “You got me as a partner.”

  ***

  Martinez held the crime scene tape up high enough for Glade and Sherman to duck under it. “So, whatcha got there?” She nodded toward the body that was now being loaded into a body bag.

  Glade raised an eyebrow and looked at Sherman. “You should think about giving me that ten dollar bill you owe me.”

  Sherman ignored him. “Ronnie Kelso, serial abuser of women. Took two in the chest. It looks like it happened right here, too.”

  “Does he live around here?” Martinez asked.

  “His last known address puts him on the south side, outside the loop.”

  “Hmph,” she responded, looking around. “Where’s his car?”

  “It’s not anywhere in the park.”

  “Well, that’s odd…” her voice trailed off.

  Glade huffed. “There’s no time to shoot the shit, Martinez. We’ve got to go notify our prime suspect, also known as his current common law wife. I can’t believe I have to waste my time looking for justice for this low life.”

  “You really think she did it?”

  “If she did, I hope she can prove self-defense and get community service, and a letter of thanks from all of his other victims.”

  Martinez looked slowly around the park, shaking her head.

  “Something else, Marti?” Glade asked.

  “No,” she said, not even reacting to the jab.

  He motioned Sherman toward the car. “You drive. I’ll navigate.”

  “You’re gonna take another nap, aren’t you?”

  ***

  The door to the shabby mobile home swung open suddenly. The two detectives separated. Sherman froze directly in front of the door, with his hand on his gun. Glade kept moving toward the side of the mobile home. Seeing that the woman in the doorway has both hands on her hips, they both relaxed. She cocked her head, taking in the situation. “Well, son of a bitch, what’s Ronnie done now?”

  “Mrs. Kelso?” Sherman asked.

  “We ain’t married.”

  “May we come in and talk?”

  Her eyes widened. She looked back and forth between them. Sherman covered the short distance to the wooden steps and had his arm around her waist as her knees started to give. She grabbed at his jacket and looked up at him through glassy eyes. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

  ***

  “So,” Martinez appeared at Glade’s desk the moment he sat down, “how did the notification go?”

  “Geez, Martinez, are you working triple shifts these days? Go home.”

  Detective Sherman winked at her. “She’s waiting for me. She’s here to take me up on that dinner date I’ve been offering.”

  She rocked back on her heels. “Yep. Where are you taking me?” Sherman’s startled look was priceless. “You can tell me all about the notification over cheeseburgers.”

  “Weird thing,” Glade said, “I think this woman actually loved Kelso. She didn’t do it.”

  “No kidding?”

  “No kidding,” Glade nodded. “They’ve been on again, off again for years. She’s even filed charges on him a time or two for knocking her around. I guess he didn’t hold it against her. So, we’re back to square one. But I don’t see the point in putting a lot of effort in to finding whoever performed this community service.” He slammed his desk drawer.

  “How about Chris Madrid’s?” Sherman offered.

  Martinez smiled. “Sounds good.”

  “Are you serious?” He asked.

  “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

  Sherman rolled his eyes. “You sure know how to stroke a man’s ego.”

  “That’s all you’re getting stroked, so enjoy it.” She nodded to Glade, who was actually almost smiling, and then turned back to Sherman. “I’ll meet you there… unless this wasn’t a genuine offer.”

  “Give me forty-five minutes.”

  ***

  Martinez slid onto the bench opposite from Sherman and set her Corona in front of her.

  He looked at her and smiled. “It will be good for my reputation to be seen having dinner with a beautiful woman, but I’m not too sure what it will do for yours.”

  “Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself, Doug. You’re a beautiful woman, too.”

  He laughed. “Okay, so what’s this really about?”

  “I like you. I even enjoy the fact that you never stop flirting with me even though we both know it isn’t going to get you anywhere. It’s good for my ego.”

  “Then, this isn’t about, as Glade says, brown-nosing your way into the good graces of everyone in homicide?”

  She grinned. “I’m a long way from homicide. I won’t turn on my full force ass-kissing powers until the time is right.” She took a sip of her beer. “But I do have a second ulterior motive.”

  “A second? What was the first?”

  “That I actually like you.” She raised her eyebrows. “Remember, we just covered that?”

  “I thought you were just yanking my chain.”

  She shook her head. “Ronnie Kelso.”

  “What about him?”

  “There are more like him.”

  “Unfortunately that’s what keeps us in business.”

  “No,” she said, “I mean, he isn’t the only serial abuser who has taken a bullet recently.”

  Sherman furrowed his brow and tried to sort out what she meant. “Do you mean…” He paused and mulled it over some more.

  “I can think of four more in San Antonio and surrounding areas who have taken a bullet or tw
o to the chest, all of them in a public park, or a wooded area. Not shot and dumped, but killed right where they were standing, and then left there. At least two of them had no transportation nearby.”

  “You think someone is taking them out?”

  She nodded. “I think we might have our very own vigilante at work.”

  “Vigilante?” Sherman scoffed. “If you’re right, it sounds like the work of a serial killer.”

  “A serial killer?” She shrugged. “You say potato, I say vigilante. This has happened slowly over a number of years and not all of them have been inside the city limits. Add that to the fact that all of the victims are scumbags and no one has really taken any notice.”

  “But you’ve noticed.”

  “Yeah,” she said sheepishly, “at first I just figured these guys got what they deserved.”

  He shook his head. “You sound like Glade.”

  “I know. And I don’t exactly disagree with him on this issue. Kelso was a serial abuser. Last year, Jackson Riley was found in a dry creek bed out near UTSA. There’s a park nearby.”

  “And what was on his sheet?”

  “He’d been accused of sexual assault a few times. Did a little time for the last one, but nothing on the others. Took a bullet about six weeks after his release. Six months before that, Alejandro Ruiz was found dead in a park in Schertz. He had two restraining orders on him- one from his ex-girlfriend, one from his ex-wife. And there are at least three more like this.”

  “Hmph.” Sherman rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “If you’re right, and there is a connection, why do you care? You seem to think they all got what was coming to them.”

  “Yeah, when I see a woman fight back and maybe kill the man who has been terrorizing her, I do think she should get a pass. But this doesn’t feel the same. I think that there is someone out there stalking and killing these guys. I know, as a cop, I should be immediately opposed to this idea, but I admit, I struggle with my feelings on the issue. Each time I read about one of these killings, I just thought that justice had been served, and it was less work for us. And then one day I realized that I was reading the same story I had read before. The victims are abusers of some variety, gunned down in or near public parks, and at least half the time their vehicles are nowhere nearby.”