Enemy in Blue (8 page)

“
Sweet, sweet woman. Let me see you princess.” Sandra's skin crawled as tears streamed silently down her face.

“
Mr. Colt, you check the closet.” Sandra saw the end of a gun slide in at the far end of the closet. She dug her nails into her shins and took a deep breath. All of a sudden the far closet door slammed in front of her. Shaver's shadow crept along the closet wall.

“
Eh, hello?” Sandra caught a glimpse of the monster through hanging clothes. He had a freckled, red face and sported a tight buzz cut. His jaws were more like jowls, two protruding muscles. He had deep-set, liquid blue eyes. She closed her eyes and remained dead still.

“
Hmm, trail went cold Mr. Colt.” The closet door closed. Sandra quietly exhaled. She guessed that the clothes in the closet masked her smell. Footsteps trailed away toward the front of the apartment. She heard rustling at Max's computer.

“
What's this, Max? Sandra Gutierrez…Station 9 News Reporter?” Sandra squirmed and held back a gasp. It must have been the business card she gave Max. “You don't work there though. Interesting.”

After a few seconds, Sandra heard the front door open. “All right, Maxie. Remember to keep our little secret.” The front door slammed shut. Sandra waited in the closet for what seemed like an eternity. She grew stiff but her body would not release its clench. As more time passed, she swore she heard footsteps on the stairs outside of the apartment. The front door seemed to creak open slowly.

“
Hello?” came a voice. “Hellooo?” A footstep hit the linoleum in the entry way. “Oh my God,” Sandra heard the person gag and step back out of the apartment.

“
Sandra? Sandy, are you there?” Sandra wanted to scream, “Yes! I'm in here,” but the terror of what just happened seized her vocal cords. Footsteps ran into the apartment. “Sandra? Where the hell are you?”

This time Sandra managed a weak, “Here.”

“
Sandra!” The footsteps neared the room she was in. She could tell it was Cruz's voice. She kicked out her right foot and struck the closet door in front of her. The footsteps stopped and the closet door flew open. Cruz stood there, mouth agape.

* * * *

Tomko sat in the middle of his living room listening to Shaver.

“
You fucking
shot
him?”

“
Had to.”

“
What do you mean you had to?”

“
He was a witness, Tomko.”

“
So what the hell then—am I next? This is out of hand, Shaver. All of this has been to protect your ass! I got shot for you!”

“
Tomko, Tomko—calm yourself. I appreciate what you've done and no, I'm not going to hurt you. I need you.”

“
And what about when you don't need me?”

“
Let's cross that bridge when we come to it,” Shaver said with a disturbed laugh.

“
That's not funny!”

“
Oh chill out. Look, you were there too and didn't do anything. You've aided and abetted me in this and are now helping me get away with it. So, you're in the same damn boat.”

“
Forget that Shaver. You shot him.”

“
Sure Tomko, but that's not the whole picture, is it? If I go down, you go down. I promise.”

Tomko grunted.

“
Our tech should be in the process of scrubbing the hard drive on Max's work computer. After that, we just need to find that crook Martinez and get that copy of the video back. Simple.”

“
Look, Shaver, we need to stop the violence. We're gonna catch a ton of shit soon if we aren't more careful.”

“
I agree, Tomko. Let's not forget that it was your little hostage situation with Mrs. Williams that really turned ugly. That's where the real heat is going to come from.” Not hearing anything from Tomko, Shaver added, “Follow up with the tech and we'll meet at my place tomorrow to figure out how to get to Martinez.”

* * * *

Martinez and Alicia climbed into his car, a solemn net cast about them.

“
Was it that big of a screw up?” Alicia asked.

“
It's…I know you were doin' your best. It just adds another layer of shit. Shaver would be plenty on his own, but now he's in the Chief's crosshairs. That drive would destroy the police department. The Chief won't let it happen.”

“
I'm sorry Martinez. The trauma of it all was too much. We haven't even buried Alvin and I've got to...” Martinez leaned over and took Alicia into his arms as she broke down.

“
I know Alicia. Don't worry 'bout it. We're gonna bring it to these punks. I still need your help though.”

Alicia collected herself between sobs. She managed to take some deep breaths and look up at Martinez.

“
You're one of Carmen's best friends and I'm gonna need your help in convincing her to leave town. You know she won't accept leaving her own home. But, it's not just her in danger.” Martinez stopped, softened his face and lowered his voice, “I know you said you wouldn't leave, but do you understand the danger here? Do you understand why I need the two people I love the most out of here?

Alicia thought about it and then nodded her head.

“
Alvin was your husband and basically my brother. We share that grief but we also share the weight of the fight that's coming—and I need your help getting Carmen and yourself to safety.”

“
I can do it.”

“
Good,” Martinez said as he started the car. “When we get to our house I'll fill you in on the plan.” He was putting on a courageous front but the truth was that Martinez had no idea what the next step was.

* * * *

Cruz stood slack jawed in front of Sandra.

“
Are you okay? What happened…did someone hurt you?” He knelt down and took Sandra by her hands, gently pulling her out of the closet. She was pale and limp. As Cruz started to lead Sandra to the front door she pulled away and ran into the bathroom. Cruz heard the toilet seat slam and Sandra vomiting. He pulled out his cell phone and started to dial “911” but then stopped and looked at the body in the living room. Blood pooled behind the cameraman's body. Every few seconds Cruz heard a drip.

Cruz closed his phone and moved back to the closet where Sandra had hidden. He opened the closet door and knelt down on the carpet.

“
What are you doing?” Sandra asked.

Cruz jumped up, “Shit Sandra. You scared the hell out of me!” He looked at Sandra who had hair pasted to both of her cheeks. She was always so put together that this vulnerable look was startling. “I'm making sure no one knows we were here.”

“
You aren't going to call the cops?”

“
I thought about it, but no way. If that cop is crazy enough to shoot an innocent person, he'll have no problem pinning this on us. Hell, he's probably waiting for the call to come back here and kill us too.” Sandra lowered her head. “I need your help taking care of anything that could identify us. Scrub down all door handles and the bathroom you were just in, then ...”

“
I've got something,” Sandra interrupted.

“
Okay,” Cruz responded a bit impatiently. “What is it?” Sandra handed him a USB drive for a computer. “It's the video of the shooting.” Cruz stared at the drive in disbelief.

“
How'd you get this?”

“
The cameraman, Max, gave it to me before the Sergeant got here. Literally, as the Sergeant got to the door.”

Cruz still could not believe they had the drive. After a moment he gathered himself and said, “That's amazing work Sandra...truly. We've got to get this cleaned up and get out of here. You clean anywhere that may have prints. I'll check for anything we may have dropped. I don't want to meet this Sergeant or leave him a calling card to come find us.”

“
I think he already has one...”

“
What do you mean?”

“
I gave Max my business card, and the Sergeant picked it up before he left.”

Cruz's heart dropped when he heard the news, but he tried to maintain a calm demeanor. “Don't worry, Sandra, I'll protect you,” he said, hoping his voice didn't betray his doubt. “Let's get this place cleaned up and then worry about that problem next.”

The two scoured the apartment for the next ten minutes. Cruz collected two pieces of Sandra's hair from the closet and crept along the floor looking for more identifying evidence as Sandra wiped down surfaces where they may have left fingerprints.

When Cruz reached the front door, he said, “Let's get out of here. Close the door with a paper towel.” He watched Sandra come out of the apartment and close the door. Cruz put his arm around her as they walked to his car. When they got into his car, Cruz turned on his phone.

“
Who are you calling?” Sandra asked.

“
A doctor who can take a look at you.”

“
No, no. I'm fine Cruz, just a little shaken up.” When he didn't respond she said, “Really, I'm fine.”

He hesitated to let it go that easily. “You sure?” She nodded her head. “Okay, but I've got to make one other call then.” Sandra let out a breath of air that she had been storing since the Sergeant was in the apartment.

“
Who's that?”

“
Diego,” Cruz answered as he backed the car out of its stall. “Hey Diego…it's Cruz. I've got something you are definitely going to want to see…yeah, yeah, I'll meet you there in an hour.” He hung up the phone.

“
Diego Archuleta?” Sandra asked.

“
Yeah…you remember him?”

Sandra laid her head back on the seat. “How could I forget?”

T H I R T E E N

__________________________________________________

T
omko paused at the door to Shaver's house and listened. He could hear Shaver yelling inside but could not quite make the words out. He gently turned the doorknob until he heard a click and edged the door open. As he started to peek his head through the crack something cold touched his forehead.

Shaver's voice seethed through the darkness, “Are you fucking nuts, man?” All Tomko could see was one of Shaver's ice-blue eyes.

“
Sorry, I heard you yelling and didn't know what was going on.”

Shaver lowered his gun from Tomko's head. “Have I satisfied your silly curiosity?”

“
Kind of. Who were you talking to?” Tomko asked. Shaver turned around and walked into the darkness, beckoning Tomko as he moved away.

“
Shut that door.”

Tomko did and asked again, “So who wher...”

“
I heard you the first time,” Shaver snapped. He sat down on a couch and put his gun on a table in front of him. The room was barely lit by an overhead light in the kitchen. “It was the Chief.”

“
No fucking way. The cluster bomb has officially gone off,” Tomko muttered.

“
Yeah, you can put it that way.”

“
What did he want?”

“
What the hell do you think he wanted Tomko? The goddamn drive.”

Tomko laughed. “How did that old dog catch wind of this?”

“
Who knows. He's got ears in all corners of this city. Shit, I may have told him in my sleep. Persuasive little shit.”

“
Did he give you a deadline?”

“
No, but he didn't have to. When he asks for something, God turns over his hourglass.”

Tomko sighed and sat down on the couch next to Shaver. “Well, he wants what we want, right?” Tomko looked over at Shaver whom he had never seen so visibly distressed. Shaver usually didn't get shaken by things like this because he didn't care about much. Apparently the Chief's call had some serious bite behind it. Tomko went on, “So, if we get him what he wants, we're saving our own hides. Whatever he decides to do with the drive after that sure as hell ain't our problem.”

Shaver shifted uneasily in his spot. Tomko saw him lean forward and grab the handgun on the table. “Tomko,” Shaver started, “I don't think you understand how much of a snake he is.”

* * * *

Cruz and Sandra sat on Diego Archuleta's back patio. Diego was a short, stocky Chicano. He sported a full beard that was always borderline unkempt, silver jewelry on his wrists and neck, and thick glasses that perched halfway down his nose. Diego had fought for Latino rights in the streets, the schools, the town halls, the capitol…and it all showed in his burdened gait. But his eyes and voice told a different, more alive story.

“
You two
conejos
have gotten into a bit of trouble, huh?” He looked mostly at Sandra as he said this. “You,
princesa
, look like you've just seen the
chupacabra
!”

“
It's been a rough day,” she responded quietly, without looking at Diego.

He shook his head, less than surprised that events of the past did not evaporate so quickly. He stepped towards her and put one of his hands on her shoulder, “Muchacha, you can let it go. It was just a difference of opinion.”

Actually, Cruz recalled it had been a bit more than a difference of opinion. Diego was about the same age as Cruz and Sandra's parents. Their parents were activists in their own rights. However, about six years ago a schism developed between Diego and Sandra's father.