Deadly command, p.10
Deadly Command, page 10
“No, sir. Is there a problem?” Her heart was thumping so loud she could have imagined Torrance might be able to hear it.
The sheriff stayed where he was for a few seconds, then grunted to himself and walked on. If Kowalski had been facing him fully, the man would have been able to see the sheen of sweat across her forehead. Close, she decided. Too damn close.
She reloaded the Magnum revolver and slipped it back in the holster, snapping the clip in place. She left the armory and walked back into the squad room, where a couple of the other deputies were busy at their desks. Eddie Phillips was at his control position. She patted him on the shoulder as she went by.
“I’ll be on air in a minute,” she said.
“On patrol?” he asked, knowing exactly what she was doing. The duty roster was on his notice board over his desk.
“Keeping McQueen County safe,” she said, keeping her voice steady. She wanted to be out of the office, in her SUV cruiser where she could think straight.
She passed Lonny Magruder’s desk and saw him glance up, his beefy face wearing the sly smirk he reserved only for her.
“You going to be okay out there, girl?” he asked, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. “I mean all on your lonesome with no one to hold your hand? We could partner up.”
Kowalski stopped and placed both her palms flat against his desktop.
“Given the choice of putting myself at risk against having your pasty butt next to me, Deputy Magruder, guess which option I’d choose?”
Magruder’s face darkened as he glared at her. It didn’t help his mood when he heard a faint chuckle coming from one of his coworkers.
“Have a nice day, Lonny,” Kowalski whispered and walked out.
Outside she unlocked the SUV, threw her hat on the passenger seat and climbed in. She fired up the big engine, swung the vehicle around and hung a right. She clicked on the com set and signed on with Eddie Phillips.
“Nicely handled,” Phillips said. “Jeez, his face is still red. Erin, you keep your eyes open when he’s around. You know how he is.”
“Thanks for the advice, Eddie, and I do know how he is.”
Kowalski cruised the street, heading out of town and onto the highway that led south. Clear of town she was able to sit back, with the smooth ribbon of the road stretching ahead. She was alone, with only the muted chatter of the radio to break the silence. It allowed her to concentrate her thoughts.
At this moment Kowalski needed the isolation as she tried to make sense of the conversation she had overheard.
It was obvious Torrance had been talking to Lou Cameron. It was a fact that McQueen’s sheriff was a good friend of the Camerons. The brothers were well-known figures in town, often seen at the Cameron Oil office. The younger one, Nathan, made no secret of the fact that he had, as they said, taken a shine to the attractive young deputy. And while Kowalski made no overtly familiar response to his attention, she did nothing to offend him. He was a pleasant enough young man, unlike his brother. Kowalski found the elder Cameron distant, obsessed with his business and a man who had a habit of treating people with a cold attitude. He would be polite, but there was always that obvious disdain she found unsettling. He went around with a slightly mocking expression in his eyes.
Look at me. I’m better than you simple peasants.
Apart from the relationship Torrance had with Lou Cameron, Kowalski had long harbored a suspicion the sheriff’s connection was more than simple friendship. Her father still reminded her, whenever conversation centered on Torrance, that he had always mistrusted the man. He had known the sheriff years back, when the man had first put on a uniform. That had been when Sam Kowalski had been in charge of the department. Torrance had made his way up through the ranks. He could have been an exceptional officer, but there was a darker side to him that occasionally came through. He had a heavy hand with prisoners and though he never crossed the line, there were occasions when Torrance came close. Sam Kowalski simply did not trust the man. When Sam was injured during a shooting that left him with a crippled hip, Torrance was elected to the top position. At the time he was the senior man in the department and he had friends.
Lou Cameron was at the head of the list. In the local business community Cameron had a lot of clout. His oil company provided jobs in the area, and he brought business to McQueen.
Sam Kowalski, by that time retired to Las Cruces, had not been pleased, and when his daughter had been taken on as a deputy, he warned her to stay on watch as far as Torrance was concerned.
“That son of a bitch is not to be trusted, and neither is Lonny Magruder,” he had said. “That pair’s like Siamese twins. Just keep your distance, honey. Watch and listen, ’cause one day they are going to let something slip.”
Erin Kowalski had a feeling that day had come.
She ran back over the conversation she had been privy to. No matter how she juggled the words they always came out the same.
Torrance had been suggesting he and Magruber kill someone and bury him in the desert out beyond McQueen—Cooper, the man Magruder had clashed with after he had pulled him over. It had gone all around the department after Torrance had bawled him out over the incident. Now that same guy appears to have been targeted for assassination.
Kowalski tried to convince herself she had mistaken the conversation, but she failed because Torrance’s words could not be interpreted any other way. His inappropriate discussion over the phone simply advertised his lack of tact. That failing was typical of the man. Walt Torrance believed himself to be total master of his own fate. So much so that he failed to censor himself and walked around with the air of someone untouchable.
Not this time, Sheriff Torrance, she thought.
Cooper.
The newcomer to McQueen seemed to be attracting a great deal of hostile attention. Why?
Torrance and Cameron had been discussing the man and arranging for him to be either snatched off the street—or even killed if that turned out to be the only solution.
Whoever Cooper was there had to be a backstory, a logical explanation for Torrance’s determination to get his hands on the man.
Kowalski had to unearth that explanation. To do it she had to confront the man and ask the question. Something drove her to seek the answer. If she got that answer she might not like it, but her dogged need to know would not allow her to just ignore the matter.
She picked up the vehicle’s handset and keyed the button.
“Erin? You okay?” Phillips asked.
“Are you on your own?”
“Weird question, but yes. Is it important?”
“Could be. Did Lonny log, Cooper, that guy he pulled over?” Kowalski asked.
“He called it in, sure.”
“You got the details?”
“Hold a minute.” Kowalski could hear him tapping on his keyboard. “I got the log.”
“Send it to my computer, Eddie, and don’t ask why. I’ll tell you later. And keep this between us.”
Phillips agreed and Kowalski signed off from the conversation.
When the details appeared on her screen, she ran through them. Magruder, as unpleasant as he was, was a stickler for keeping his logs up to date. He had detailed everything that had occurred at the roadside, putting down his report in full. He had activated the video camera mounted inside the patrol vehicle and had pasted a photograph from the footage into his log. It gave Kowalski a recognizable image of the man named Matt Cooper. The tall, dark-haired man had looked calm, not even a little stressed at being pulled over. Kowalski smiled when she saw that. It would have irritated Magruder because the guy had not reacted. The log gave the make and number of the SUV Cooper was driving. She ran a check on the plate number and the information came through. The SUV had been hired from a rental agency in Las Cruces.
“So far so good, my girl,” Kowalski said out loud.
She had increased her knowledge a little. What did it all add up to? She wasn’t quite sure yet. So she needed to keep pushing.
Her radio squawked. It was Eddie Phillips.
“Torrance and Magruder just left the department,” he said. “After you left they put their heads together for a while, then they took off without a word. They were acting weird, Erin. Thought I’d give you the heads-up.”
“Thanks, Eddie.”
“Erin, what the hell is going on out there?” Phillips asked.
“Beats the hell out of me, but I’m going to find out.”
“You watch yourself. Especially around Lonny. I don’t trust him.”
“Message loud and clear, Eddie,” Kowalski stated.
“You keep in touch.”
15
Bolan sat in his SUV, having decided to wait until dark before he moved forward with his plan of action. The turnoff leading to Cameron Oil was a couple of miles along the blacktop. He had parked alongside the deserted diner and gas station he had passed on his previous trip along the road. The old gas station and diner looked to have been abandoned a long time ago—the weather-beaten paintwork, faded signs and the general air of decay told the story. Grass had long ago established itself in the cracked concrete. The regular winds that blew in the area had carried the grains of dust that had scoured the property.
Bolan had pulled in beside the diner, with its sagging sign and broken windows, reversing the SUV so he was facing the road. There were a couple of hours to fill before darkness would help cover his approach to the processing plant. A simple recon would confirm his suspicions one way or the other.
The road was quiet. Only a couple of vehicles drove by while Bolan sat out his vigil.
The third vehicle he saw caused Bolan to let go a sigh of exasperation. It was an SUV bearing the McQueen County Sheriff’s Department logo and had the requisite light bar mounted on the roof.
So you took a chance and it just blew back in your face, Bolan thought.
He was considering his options as the vehicle slowed, turned off the road and parked in front of the gas pumps. The uniformed driver of the cruiser climbed out and stood for a moment, staring across at Bolan’s SUV.
At least it wasn’t Deputy Magruder. Bolan wasn’t seeing the bulk of the man. He was looking at a lithe young woman who did everything good to the uniform—everything that Magruder did not. She started to walk in his direction. She moved well, almost casually, but there was no denying the power she carried under her uniform. Bolan climbed out of his vehicle and stepped around to the front, both hands held well away from his body as the woman kept coming. As she got closer, he realized that she was strikingly attractive. Her thick, raven-black hair was cut reasonably short, and her intense gray-green eyes demanded attention. The badge she wore on her tan, short-sleeved uniform shirt was pinned above the name tag that told Bolan she was Deputy Kowalski.
“Deputy,” Bolan said pleasantly. He maintained his relaxed stance, offering no aggression, no resistance.
Kowalski returned the favor. Although her right hand was low and near the butt of her holstered service revolver, her fingers were curled into a partial fist. It was not the position of someone anticipating the need to draw her weapon.
As she drew near, Bolan picked up on detail. Her skin was smooth, unmarked, her mouth generous, with full lips. Her brows were dark above the unflinching and clear eyes.
“Watching the scenery, Mr. Cooper?”
Bolan didn’t react. He saw the flicker of amusement on her lips at his coolness.
“Or waiting until it gets dark?”
Smart, too, he decided.
“Photographers love sunsets. They make for good shots.”
“They also let people move around without being seen.”
“Not much around here to be seen in the dark, Deputy Kowalski.”
“That depends what you’re looking for.”
“Is every officer on the local force interested in what I do?”
That quick smile again. “Some more than others,” she said. “And for different reasons.”
“Deputy Magruder?” Bolan nodded. “We met earlier. He gets upset easily.”
“Well, now you have his best buddy, Sheriff Torrance, on your case.”
“As far as I’m aware, I haven’t broken any county bylaws. Unless you can tell me different.”
“Mr. Cooper, I don’t have a clue what’s behind all this. I just know you’re in possible danger.”
“Can you explain that remark?”
“I overheard Torrance on the phone arranging your kidnapping or possible murder with—”
Bolan had the feeling he knew the name the young woman was going to say. “Lou Cameron?”
It was Kowalski’s turn to be caught off guard. She was not as practical at concealing her surprise as Bolan, and it showed on her face.
“How did you…”
The intrusive squeal of tires interrupted her. A second cruiser swept onto view, jerking to a dusty stop only feet away. The driver’s door swung open and the bulky figure of Deputy Magruder stepped out, the black muzzle of a pump-action shotgun pointing at Bolan.
“You move one fucking inch, Cooper, and I’ll blow you into dog meat.”
16
“What the hell is going on, Lonny?” Kowalski asked. She rounded on the deputy. “I want to know.”
“Yeah? Well, I don’t need to tell you nothing, sweetheart. I knew one day that poking your nose in where it wasn’t wanted would get you trouble. Just get that tight little butt of yours turned around and shut your mouth.”
It dawned on Kowalski that her curiosity was proving to have been validated. Just seeing Magruder’s sweating face and twitchy mouth said it all.
“Move it,” the deputy snapped, his tone hardening.
Kowalski glared at Bolan. “You figure this is right?”
“Hate to say this, but right doesn’t matter. He does have the shotgun.”
“That’s right, and I know how to use it,” Magruder snapped. “Move, Kowalski.”
“Lonny, what will the sheriff say about this?” Kowalski asked innocently. “He isn’t going to be happy.”
The man just grinned at her. “He’ll most likely give me a bonus. Just stop jerking around and let’s get moving.”
“My God,” Kowalski said. “I did hear correct. You bastards do work for Cameron.”
The look on Magruder’s face told her she was right. The revelation momentarily put him off guard, the shotgun sagging in his hands. Kowalski reached for her holstered pistol, but Magruder was too quick. He swung the shotgun, the barrel rapping her knuckles, and she let go of the pistol as it slid free of the holster. Kowalski gasped, clutching her bruised knuckles, but she lashed out with one booted foot and caught Magruder a hard blow to the left knee.
“Son of a bitch,” he said and swung his shotgun at her.
She ducked under the swing, giving Bolan a chance to lunge forward. He saw the shotgun reverse and head in his direction. The soldier arched his body away from the weapon and it brushed his side. He threw up his left arm to block Magruder’s follow-up swing, feeling the solid impact of the barrel as it struck.
“Lonny, no,” Kowalski yelled, moving to intercept the deputy’s assault.
“The hell you say,” Magruder said, backhanding her with a beefy fist. “Stay out of my way, girlie, or else I’m gonna teach you some manners, too.”
As the deputy went to her knees, Magruder lashed out with his shotgun again, this time catching Bolan across the back of his shoulders. The blow was delivered with less than full strength. It stung, but didn’t put Bolan down. Out the corner of his eye Bolan saw the weapon rise again, and he ducked under Magruder’s arm and slammed in a hard fist that landed just above the deputy’s belt buckle. There was a softness there that told Bolan the man got little exercise. He drove in with his left, sinking it deep into Magruder’s unprotected gut.
The deputy let out a gush of air, took a short step back as he tried to regain control. Bolan was not in a waiting mood. He straightened and launched a big fist that crunched against the man’s slack jaw. The blow rocked Magruder’s head. He tasted blood in his mouth from a loosened tooth. Knowing that if the officer regained his wits he might use the shotgun, Bolan struck again, hard, and punched in over the ribs, then slammed his fist against Magruder’s jaw a second time. This time he went down, spitting blood and flopping on his face, letting go of the shotgun. Bolan snatched it up. Then he reached down and took Magruder’s pistol from his holster and tossed it away from the deputy.
He turned to Officer Kowalski. She was already pushing upright, watching Bolan. She had seen him remove Magruder’s gun and throw it out of reach. It posed a problem for her. A genuine fugitive would have taken the gun and made his escape. Instead he was standing over her, extending a helping hand to haul her upright, the shotgun held in a nonthreatening position. She moved her right hand as if she was going to take out her own weapon, then remembered it was on the ground. But something inside told her she had nothing to fear from this man.
“Some partner you have there,” Bolan said.
Kowalski touched her fingertips to the spot on her cheek where Magruder had hit her. “That guy is so far back he should be dragging his knuckles on the ground,” she said. “Ouch, that’s going to hurt.”
“It is,” Bolan said. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I’ll be fine.” She grinned. “The Kowalskis are a tough breed.”
“Tough and stubborn as a fuckin’ burro. Just like your bastard of a father.”
Kowalski knew the voice. She turned and faced Sheriff Torrance. He had stepped into view from the corner of the building. He had a big, black Franchi SPAS shotgun aimed directly at her head. Behind him the tail end of his cruiser stuck out from the side of the building. He had driven up quietly while Bolan and Kowalski were dealing with Magruder, giving himself the advantage.
“Torrance.”
“Tell your man there to lay down that shotgun. I can get a shot in before he can, and this here piece will take your head clear off your shoulders.”
Bolan knew the cop was right. No matter how fast he might be, Torrance was in a better position. And the soldier knew, even if he had the chance, there was no way he would fire on a law officer, even if he was crooked. Corrupt or not, Torrance’s position would keep him safe from Bolan’s weapons. He lowered the shotgun to the ground. Magruder, bloodied and groggy, was climbing to his feet and scooping up the weapon.
