Emergency Response (9 page)

NINE

N
oah sat at the bar in the firehouse kitchen, his first morning cup of coffee on the countertop. He stretched and yawned. The sofa had been comfortable. The sheets soft. The blanket warm. But no amount of comfort was going to make him forget about the danger surrounding Darcie and drop off to a restful sleep. He'd nod off for a few hours, then jerk awake. Over and over again. So what if he was dragging this morning. A few cups of coffee and he'd be alert and ready.

But first a call to Judson. Noah hoped that he'd catch Judson before he started his day and the guy would actually pick up his phone.

The phone rang four times and just as Noah prepared himself to get Judson's voice mail, the detective answered. Noah stifled a hallelujah and identified himself.

“Yeah, right,” Judson said. “You wanted information on the Nuevo gang. Sorry I didn't get back with you. Things have been crazy. In fact, I've only got a few minutes, so make this quick.”

Noah explained Darcie's attack and Oleda's connection to Darcie. “We're looking for the boyfriend.”

“I know the guy. Name's Elonzo Perez. He's a Nuevo, all right. His rap sheet is about a mile long. Violent dude. Can't tell you where to find him, though.”

Noah grabbed a pen and jotted down the name. “And Oleda? I know as a woman she wouldn't have been allowed in the gang, but was her death connected to them?”

“Yeah. At least we suspect it was. She was killed in a drive-by meant to take down a rival gang member. To avoid prosecution on a drug charge, he'd cut a deal and snitched on the Nuevo leaders.”

“Which wouldn't make him popular with the Nuevos or his own gang.”

“No one abides a snitch.”

The beep from a remote car entry filtered through the phone and it sounded like Judson was on the move.

“Was it a Nuevo or a member of the rival gang who took down the snitch?” Noah asked before Judson could end the call.

“We don't have enough evidence to point a finger at either one of them. Since a Nuevo would have backed off once he saw Oleda, seems likely the rival gang was taking out one of their own. They were at a local festival and Oleda just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Noah thought back to all the briefings he'd attended on gangs and remembered something about family respect. “Gangs have that whole family thing going on, right?”

“Exactly. If a family member is present, all gang business ceases. Which on the one hand is odd, because in this case, the rival gang would have the same values and should have backed off when they saw Oleda. Plus you'd think they'd let the snitch live to testify and cripple the Nuevo gang before doing him in.”

“Was the snitch's information damaging enough that the Nuevos would ignore their family rule?”

“Maybe. If the snitch hadn't died, his testimony would have put the Nuevo leaders away for a long time.”

“Just exactly what did the snitch say?” Noah asked.

“Sorry, man. That information is on a need-to-know basis.”

“Then you can tell me because I need to know.”

“Nice try.” Judson chuckled. “Look man, I gotta go.”

“One more thing,” Noah said, hoping to keep him on the line. “The Nuevo gang leaders. Did you have enough to arrest them without the testimony?”

“Unfortunately, no. We're hoping to get one of them to turn on the others, but we're still looking for them. They went underground when the snitch died.”

“I don't get it. The snitch is dead. Why go underground?”

“Who knows what motivates them to do what they do?” Judson said, sounding disgusted. “But maybe they think we have another snitch.”

“Could this be connected to the attack I'm investigating?”

Judson was silent for a moment. “Anything is possible.”

Not a helpful or very comforting response. Noah needed more. “I need to get a look at the information your snitch provided.”

“Sorry, man. Best I can do is ask my LT to let me read you in on the investigation.”

Noah stifled a sigh of frustration. “Do that and let me know ASAP what you learn.”

“Will do.” Judson paused for a moment and didn't disconnect. “You know, it might not be a bad idea to leave your investigation alone for a while. The Nuevos are in turmoil and things are extremely volatile in their neighborhood. You don't want to get in the middle of that. And you don't want to mess with Perez. He's the kind of guy who wouldn't need much provocation to kill.”

Noah wasn't about to be warned off if it meant finding the man who'd attacked Darcie. He thanked Judson for the information, then called dispatch to look up Elonzo Perez in the PPB's database and email his rap sheet. The minute his face flashed on Noah's phone, a long list of priors below, Noah knew this man was as dangerous as Judson had claimed.

Noah hated to think of showing the picture to Darcie, but if Perez had attacked her, she'd need to ID him. Noah found her still sitting on the patio, where he'd left her, a cup of coffee untouched on the table. He stepped outside. The sun spilled yellow rays over the garden, making all the colors richer—the warm chestnut of her hair, the coffee brown of her eyes, even the vibrant blue of her jacket. She peered up at him.

“What's wrong?” she asked, her breath rising in little puffs of cold air around her face.

“I talked to Judson. Oleda's boyfriend is Elonzo Perez.” He handed over his phone. “Recognize him?”

She studied the picture and Noah expected she'd react, but she didn't move. She simply stared long and hard at the screen.

“Yeah,” she finally said, almost dispassionately. “He's the guy who threatened me at the hospital.”

“And is he your attacker?”

“Could be, but I'm not positive.” She handed his phone back to him. “What happens now?”

“Now I get an arrest warrant and an alert issued for Perez and send someone by his last known address to serve the warrant.”

“Do you think they'll find him at home?”

Noah thought back to his conversation with Judson. If Perez was caught up in the Nuevo turmoil, the odds of finding him at all were slim, but Darcie didn't need to know that.

“Could be. Why don't we let the police force concentrate on that while we head to Eugene to interview Detective Wilson about Leland King?”

She nodded, but it was halfhearted. “In other words, Perez will be hard to find.”

“You can read my mind now, huh?” He chuckled.

She didn't respond. Something was troubling her this morning and, as usual, she didn't want to talk about it. For once, he didn't, either. Not after hearing Judson's description of Perez and knowing the creep was in the wind and free to strike at a moment's notice.

* * *

Detective Wilson was pretty much what Darcie expected of a detective. Broad-shouldered, serious, his focus intense as he offered them disposable booties to protect the crime scene before escorting them into Leland King's house. Sky-high pines and maple trees surrounded the mid-century home with soaring ceilings and a wall of windows that overlooked a wooded ravine.

“Look,” Detective Wilson said as he stared at Noah in the entryway. “I'm not sure what you're hoping to find here. I get that you're a big-city detective, and we're small-time to you, but our team was thorough.”

Noah held up a placating hand. “I'm not doubting your work. I've found over the years that in addition to searching a victim's home, being there helps me get a better sense of who he is. That's all I'm looking for here.”

Wilson nodded firmly.

From Darcie's work with the FRS team and her interactions with the police as a paramedic, she was very familiar with the strong egos of law enforcement officers and she was pleased to see Noah keep this from becoming an issue.

“I'd also appreciate any details and opinions you've formed about the victim,” Noah said.

“Not sure we even have a victim yet, but if your hit-list theory is correct then I need to keep an open mind.” He held out his hand. “If you'll follow me, I'll show you where we found the blood.” Wilson crossed the room, his feet encased in booties that whispered against gleaming hardwood as he walked. He stopped by the white sofa and pointed at a rusty red stain. “Lab tests confirm it matches King's blood type.”

Noah stared at the sofa. “Not a large quantity of blood. Could be from a struggle, but it's not enough to suggest murder.”

With King's name scratched off the hit list, Darcie believed he'd been murdered, but to hear Noah's blunt statement made her sick inside. She turned her attention to the room to keep her mind off the list.

If she didn't already know King didn't have young children, the room would have told her that. Spotless. Organized. Not a dust bunny in sight. White furniture—with the exception of the blood—was also spotless.

“The prime suspect in our investigation has gang affiliation,” Noah said. “Specifically the Nuevo gang. Any chance King is affiliated with a gang?”

Wilson shook his head. “But now that you mention it, I'll be sure to keep a look out for anything related.”

“We're also interested in a Ramon Flores. Has that name come up in your investigation?”

“No, should it?”

“His name appears on the hit list we located at our crime scene.”

“I see,” Wilson said. “So far we've focused on King's personal life to find a possible suspect. Maybe this Flores worked with him, though records indicate this was a one-man operation. We suspect he worked with other designers in his business, but these were online collaborations only and they were paid as contracted staff. I'm working on running down a list of these designers and I'll get the report to you as soon as I have it.”

“I'd appreciate that,” Noah said.

“It might take some time, though,” Wilson said. “Since we don't even know if King met with foul play—he could be in Vegas having a high old time gambling and not taking his sister's calls, for all we know—this investigation isn't my top priority right now.”

Darcie didn't like the sound of that and from Noah's frown he didn't, either, but it couldn't be helped. Darcie knew detectives were overworked everywhere and they had to prioritize their cases. It meant she and Noah were going to have to do more of the legwork once they left here.

“What about friends?” Noah asked.

Wilson looked relieved that Noah didn't lecture him on his priorities. “His sister said he was pretty much a loner and didn't have any close friends, just people he chatted with online. His clients were his only real contact with the outside world.”

“Then it sounds like his disappearance could be related to his work,” Noah said. “I'd like to see his office.”

Wilson led them down the hallway to a large room—another immaculate space with huge posters on the walls for what Darcie assumed were recent advertising campaigns designed by Leland. A drafting table sat in the corner and there were plush chairs on either side of a glass table that held a fiery red lamp.

“No computer?” Noah asked, drawing Darcie's attention to the desk across the room.

“We've taken it into evidence,” Wilson replied. “Techs are processing it now.”

Darcie spotted a 3-D logo on the desk and her heart sank. She pointed at it. “LK Design. Is that the name of his design firm?”

Wilson nodded. “Sounds like you recognize it.”

“I do.”

“How?” Noah stepped closer.

“Tom—my ex-husband,” she clarified for Wilson. “He used this firm to design a campaign for the grand opening of his bike shops.” Her legs suddenly feeling weak, Darcie grabbed on to the back of a chair. “I may have even met Leland. He went by Lee, and I'd long ago forgotten his last name so I didn't make the connection before.” She turned her attention to Wilson. “Do you have a picture of him?”

Wilson tapped his phone and held out a photo.

“Yes. It's Lee. He came to the grand opening.”

“You're sure,” Noah asked, his gaze riveted to hers.

She nodded, but she'd already started pondering the connection between a missing man and Tom. Had she let their former life together blind her to the point where she couldn't see Tom for who he was? Was he actually involved in the attempt on her life?

* * *

LK Design's full client list in hand, Noah settled into the driver's seat of his car and turned to Darcie to assess her mood. Noah had taken a few moments to process Tom's connection, but Darcie? Questions must be zinging through her head.

He waited for her to make eye contact, then said, “I imagine the news about Tom was a shock.”

She shrugged as if it didn't matter, but she looked worried.

“This doesn't mean he had anything to do with your attack,” he said, surprised that he was coming to Tom's defense. “We have no reason to believe he has any gang affiliation.”

She stared ahead without speaking. Noah didn't want to push her if she didn't want to talk about this, but he would like to help relieve her anxiety if he could. So he waited. Patiently. Letting her take the lead in the conversation.

She met his gaze, and he saw the ragged pain in her eyes before she cleared it away. “What if when I wouldn't sell the house he turned to a shady source for the money? Like a gang. Then he couldn't pay them back and they came after me to teach him a lesson. Or he could have hired someone to kill me. Maybe Alverez.”

Noah had thought the same thing, but at this point, it was all pure speculation. “Don't let your imagination run wild. We need to hold off forming an opinion until we have something concrete to go on.”

She gaped at him. “What happened to the guy who thought Tom had a role in this? Why are you changing your tune?”

“Honestly?” he said, stalling for time because he wasn't sure he wanted to tell her the truth.