An Unacceptable Death - Barbara Seranella Read online

  "When was this?" St. John asked.

  Chapman cracked some ice between his molars. "A couple, maybe three years ago. In '83 or '84."

  So before he met Munch, St. John thought. "Your DEA buddy Roger told Munch that if she introduced him to some big guy named Humberto, the government would issue a formal statement exonerating Rico."

  "She doesn't want that," Chapman said.

  "Not while Delaguerra is still running things," Becker said.

  "Who's this Humberto guy?" St. John asked, thinking he needed to get to Munch and warn her.

  "Humberto Salcedo is the guy our government has tapped to succeed Delaguerra," Chapman said.

  "When is this going to happen?" St. John asked.

  "It's in the works," Chapman said.

  "All right. Fine," St. John said. "But you still haven't told me who killed Rico Chacón and why?"

  Chapman"s beeper went off. He looked down at the display and said, "Uh-oh. I better see what this is about." He was on the pay phone for only a minute, and then came running back to the table.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  MUNCH HAD ASIA TAKE THE FIRST BATH WHILE SHE FED JASPER.

  She had filled the bathtub with hot soapy water for herself when she heard the front door open.

  "Asia?" she yelled.

  "What?" Asia yelled back.

  "What are you doing?"

  "We're going to play out front."

  "Stay inside. You've been out enough today."

  Asia didn't answer and Munch didn't hear the door shut again. Knowing Asia, she was propped in the open doorway, technically not "out."

  Annoyed, Munch re-buttoned her shirt, but left it untucked. Almost as an after-thought she grabbed Rico's gun and pushed it into the waistband of her pants. When she checked the living room, the front door was open, but Asia was nowhere to be seen.

  Annoyance turning to alarm, Munch crossed the room. Jasper was in the front yard, growling at a woman with long black hair who had Asia by the arm.

  It was that bitch Christina. She had a hand around Asia's mouth and was dragging her toward the open back door of a van.

  Munch sprinted across the front yard, Rico's service revolver now in her hand as she sneaked around the front of the van.

  Asia must have bitten Christina's hand because Munch heard her sharp "Ouch," followed by Asia screaming, "Let go!"

  Christina handed Asia to a cohort. Munch saw the hands reach for her little girl and she knew a cold fury. The time to act was now, while the kidnappers were distracted by their disobliging victim. Asia had been taught never to cooperate with her own abduction.

  She yelled and kicked, "You're not my mommy. Let me go."

  Christina said, "I'm not going to hurt you. I'll take you to your mommy."

  Rico's gun was a standard-issue police revolver: a double-action .38. There was no safety. Pulling the trigger the first time cocked and fired the weapon. Munch had her finger wrapped around the trigger and needed little encouragement. She put the barrel of the gun to the back of Christina's head. "I'll save you the trouble."

  "Wait," Christina said.

  The second kidnapper was visible now. It was another woman. She was Anglo, with strong arms and short blond hair.

  Munch addressed her, "Let go of my kid. NOW!"

  The woman complied.

  "Asia, get out of the van."

  Asia scrambled out of the van and stood behind her mother. Munch was wearing the transmitter, but she had no idea if Roger was in range. "Put your hands up and away from your body."

  The women did as they were told.

  "We're DEA," Christina said.

  "Bullshit."

  "Rico and I worked together. That's all. We were co-workers. I wasn't doing him."

  Munch almost laughed. "You think that matters to me now? Where were you taking Asia?"

  "To safety. She's targeted. You're all targeted."

  "So why didn't you come to me first?" Munch asked. "Or call me, some kind of warning? You're telling me you just snatch kids off the street, and that's standard operating procedure? You think I'm stupid?" Her finger tightened on the trigger. Squeeze it slowly, Rico had told her. Though at this range, aim and trajectory weren't going to be a problem. She wanted to push the barrel through the woman's skull.

  "We're running out of time," Christina said.

  Asia's hands clung to the back of Munch's shirt. "You are," said Munch.

  "We've already moved the rest of the family," Christina said. "The father, the brothers, the ex-wife, Rico's daughter."

  "You're telling me we're all targeted?" Munch was starting to see some logic in all this. She thought of the photographs she'd seen at Rico's house, seemingly taken when they were all unaware. She kept the barrel of the gun pressed to Christina's head. There could be many explanations of how and why Christina knew about all this.

  "That's how these guys operate," Christina continued. "Someone betrays the cartel and the whole family gets taken out."

  Munch felt a horrible realization blooming. "So all this time I've been trying to prove Rico was a good cop .... "

  "You've been sentencing his whole family to death. Including you and your daughter. His daughter. Everyone."

  "Did he know that? Did he understand that his job put us all at risk?" Munch still hadn't lowered the gun, but she'd eased off the trigger.

  Tears streaked Christina's cheeks. "Of course he knew that. Why do you think he sacrificed himself ?"

  Munch kept working it through her brain, testing the logic out loud.

  "I went to his dad's house. It was empty. And there was no answer at his ex-wife's house."

  Christina nodded slowly. "That's right. They've all been taken somewhere safe."

  "You got some ID? A badge?"

  Christina looked nervously up the street. "No, I'm in deep undercover. I'm not carrying any of that."

  Munch gestured with her chin toward the blonde. "What about your partner here?"

  "Sharon," Christina said, "did you bring your ID?"

  Munch noticed the blinds across the street in Li'l Joe's house flick open. She also noticed a black Suburban with tinted windows turn the corner. Coming from the other end of the street was a Chevy Malibu, and behind that, a white van. The front door to Li'l Joe's house opened. joe and two other hungover bikers in full chains and leather stumbled into the sunshine.

  "Everything all right?" Li'l Joe asked, squinting her way.

  Munch noticed he kept his right hand behind his back. "I don't know," she called back. Then to Asia: "Get in the house. Take Jasper and get in your closet."

  Asia blanched.

  "Do it now!"

  The black Suburban slowed to a crawl. Munch tried to see the driver or if there were passengers, but the windows were too dark, even the windshield. A voice in her brain protested, Hey, that's illegal. She turned back to look at Christina and the one she'd addressed as Sharon. Both women looked worried, almost panicked. Munch looked at the truck again and saw that the license plates were Mexican.

  There was the sound of screeching tires and then a loud smack. The Suburban jolted forward, a horn went off behind it. Everyone looked at the two vehicles. Munch turned to see what the cars coming the other way were doing.

  The blue Monte Carlo pulled halfway into the Okie's driveway, blocking Christina's van from making a quick exit. Humberto got out and jogged toward the Suburban. He had a gun in each hand. Ellen emerged from behind the Suburban. A trickle of blood ran down her face from a cut on her cheek and she was yelling, "What are you, blind?"

  She thumped the door of the Suburban, but the windows remained up.

  She yelled over at the bikers, "Did you see this fool stop in the middle of the road?"

  The white van had pulled to the curb. "Is that you, Roger?"

  Munch asked quietly into her microphone.

  The headlights flashed on and off.

  Munch was still holding Rico's gun on Christina. "There are two women here. I've m
et Christina before over at the Hampton house. Sharon is inside the van where you can't see her. They say they're DEA. Is that true? Flash once for yes."

  The headlights flashed once.

  "Give me the gun," Christina said.

  Before Munch could decide whether that was what she wanted to do, a single shot went off behind her. A short bang, followed by a scream. Ellen.

  Munch ducked and turned. Ellen lay in the street near the driver's door of the Suburban, which was now open. Blood spread across Ellen's sleeve, originating from some point above her left elbow. She gripped her shoulder, her face twisted with pain and fury. The driver, the shooter, was stepping out of the Suburban. The gun was still in his hand as if he intended to finish Ellen off.

  Munch took cover behind a tree. She drew a bead and fired. Her shot went wide to the right. The tinted layer of glass on the backdoor window splintered into a spider web of cracks, but didn't shatter. The driver ducked behind his open door. Ellen scrambled to the sidewalk and found another tree to hide behind.

  Humberto was halfway between Christina's van and the Suburban. He dropped to the ground and rolled. At the first shots, Li'l Joe and his buddies produced their own guns and peppered the Surburban with small arm's fire. Two tires went flat. Munch threw her free arm over her head.

  Christina reached under a quilted mover's blanket on the van's floor and pulled out an Uzi submachine gun. Using the back door of the van as cover, and standing on the rear bumper, she sprayed a burst at the bikers across the street. The shots went high creating an array of dark holes in the stucco. Whether that had been her intention, Munch couldn't tell.

  Li'I Joe and his cohorts dived for cover inside his house.

  In all that, Munch lost sight of Humberto. Roger never came out of the van. Munch expected to hear sirens, bullhorns, maybe a helicopter or two. But a minute or two had passed since the shooting began, and it didn't look like the cavalry was going to arrive in time. Munch wanted to get to Asia. just as many people died from ricochets and strays as the victims who were the intended targets. But getting to Asia would involve running up the sidewalk to her gate or vaulting over the four-foot chain-link fence surrounding her front yard and then making a run for the front door. Both attempts would leave her open and vulnerable. Ellen's tree was closer to the gate. Besides, her blood was now dripping to the ground. She needed to dress her wound.

  "Ellen," Munch called in a low urgent whisper.

  Ellen looked over. "What?"

  "You okay?"

  "Hell, no. I've been shot."

  "Go for the house," Munch said. "I'll cover you."

  Ellen glanced behind her. "Let's both go," she said.

  "No, your chances are better. I need you to make sure Asia's okay."

  Ellen looked at the gate, then back at the van where Christina had her machine gun pointed out toward the street. "What's she doing here?"

  Munch lifted her shirt to show Ellen that she was wearing the transmitter. "She's a friend of Roger's."

  Ellen's eyes grew big. Munch felt something hard press against her ribs.

  "Who's Roger?" Humberto asked as he took the gun from her hand. He peeled back her collar and saw the microphone looped through her bra strap. "What have you done?" he asked.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ST. JOHN GRABBED CHAPMAN'S ARM, DETERMINED NOT TO to let him go until he got some answers. "What's up?"

  "Something's going down at your girlfriend's house," Chapman said. "It looks bad."

  St. John threw a five on the table and ran for his car. Becker followed, breathing hard. "Let's take mine. I'm in a cruiser."

  "You carrying a gauge?" St. John asked.

  "The works," Becker said.

  St. John quickly agreed. A shotgun might come in handy.

  Becker got behind the wheel, while St. John affixed the magnetic beacon to the roof of the sedan. St. John listened for Munch's address on the radio chatter, and gripped the handholds on the dash and above his door as Becker threaded through the Sunday-noon

  beach traffic, code two.

  * * *

  Roger watched the scene unfold through his windshield. He was observing the whole operation collapse into chaos and there was nothing he could do about it. He cursed in frustration as he tore off his headset. Munch's wire had stopped transmitting. He couldn't see from his angle if she was inside Agent Christina Garcia's van or not. The local cops' dispatchers had been advised not to respond to the shots fired. He was monitoring the police band and so far that end of the plan was holding up. Broadcasting over police frequencies would bring every goddamn reporter and thrill-seeking yahoo with access to a scanner. There were already way too many civilians involved. Humberto Salcedo and Abel Delaguerra having their inevitable confrontation here and now was definitely not what they had wanted to happen. Heads were going to roll on this one. He'd be writing reports until Christmas.

  The Suburban pulled forward until it was alongside Garcia's van and blocked his view of the scene even more.

  His only consolation was that Garcia hadn't hit her panic button, so she must believe that the situation was still salvageable, not to mention her cover.

  Roger didn't know where Humberto Salcedo was either. The guy moved surprisingly fast for such a big man. Roger had seen him cross in front of Garcia's van, then he'd lost him when he got to the sidewalk.

  What were they doing?

  A loud buzz sounded and Roger jumped. Garcia had hit her panic button.

  * * *

  Munch felt the transmitter heating up at the small of her back. The antenna wire must have popped loose, which meant that Roger wasn't getting any of this.

  The Suburban pulled forward until it was between Christina and Li'l Joe's house. Christina lifted the barrel of her Uzi from the doorjamb.

  The Suburban's driver and passenger, to avoid being vulnerable to the armed bikers, emerged from the driver's side with guns drawn. Now Christina was surrounded by dangerous and unpredictable drug dealers. To her credit, she was completely cool.

  "Señor Delaguerra," she said. "What are you doing here?"

  Delaguerra pointed at Munch with his pistol. "Is this the one?"

  "She says she doesn't know anything about your product," Christina said, giving Humberto a meaningful look that Delaguerra could not see.

  "And you believe her?" Delaguerra asked.

  "I plan to discuss it further."

  Munch still felt Humberto's gun in her back. The transmitter was burning her now, but to draw attention to it was certain suicide. Delaguerra looked at Humberto. "And is questioning one small woman a job that requires both of you?" he asked suspiciously.

  * * *

  Munch prayed that the earth would open, swallow Delaguerra, and take him straight to hell. She didn't even care if they all had to die together, as long as she got to see Delaguerra go down. She wondered what the deal was with Humberto. He had to know Christina was a cop now, yet he wasn't dropping the dime on her. Ellen and Munch had speculated that Humberto and Delaguerra's wife had something on the side. Was this what Christina had on Humberto? The reference to missing product meant someone must have ripped Delaguerra off, and Delaguerra obviously believed that Munch had something to do with that. This could only mean that Rico had been implicated.

  Who would have pointed the finger at Rico? Either the real thief or someone who wanted leverage on the real thief.

  A woman groaned inside the van.

  "Who's this?" Delaguerra asked. He beat a hand on the side of the van. "Come out of there."

  He said something in Spanish to his driver and the guy went over to the passenger door of the van. A moment later, Sharon stumbled out and was herded over to join the group. Her eyes weren't tracking right, and her short blond hair was matted with blood. One of those stray bullets must have caught her.

  Sharon sank to the ground. Christina glanced at her fellow agent and shrugged. "I've got a doctor who will see her."

  Munch had to hand it to her, Christi
na had some kind of nerve. Munch hoped she was also quick on her feet.

  Make them protect you, Rico had written in his last note to her. "I don't know what this bitch told you," Munch said, pointing at Christina, "but whatever it was was a lie. She's just jealous."

  "What's this?" Delaguerra asked in an amused tone. "The little tiger roars?"

  Humberto dug his gun a little sharper into Munch's back. Christina swung the barrel of her Uzi so that it was level with Munch's chest.

  "Hey," Humberto said. "Watch it."

  "So now you want me quiet?" Munch said. "Which is it? You know the truth. He didn't want you. He was marrying me."

  "He loved me, you little whore," Christina screamed as she charged. The men stepped back as Christina and Munch went down together on the pavement, but instead of the cat fight they were expecting, Christina swung the Uzi around so that it was trained on Delaguerra and his man.

  Delaguerra aimed and Christina fired. Small tufts of smoke wisped from the holes in the mens, chests. They died with their jaws open in surprise.

  Munch tore off the transmitter. It was smoking and smelled like burning plastic. She swung the belt once around her head to pick up speed and then smacked Humberto in the side of the head. The blow put him off balance and then Roger tackled him. Humberto's gun went flying and Munch scrambled after it.

  The bodies of Delaguerra and his man jerked back against the side of the Suburban as Christina cut a line of bullet holes across their chests.

  When the shooting stopped, the Suburban's alarm went off, sounding long Klaxon bleats. Roger was cuffing Humberto and turned to Munch. "Can you turn that thing off ?"

  "Sure." She stepped past the bodies on the ground. The driver's door was still open, so she reached in and popped the hood release. Then she quickly located and unplugged the horns.

  She returned to where Humberto was sitting on the curb. Roger was emptying the big man's pockets. "By the way, Roger, this is Humberto. Humberto, Roger." He could never say an introduction hadn't taken place.