Bay of Deception (17 page)

“There is your victim, Mr. Jeffers.” Hana turned and made a sweeping motion toward Jenny.  “And here is your killer,” he said, dropping the gun on the bed.  Reaching down, he pulled another, deadlier looking weapon strapped to ankle, then pointed it at her.

“Mrs. McKenny, please pick up the gun I just so expertly used on my former benefactor, and very carefully shoot once into the wall near him.” 

Jeffers fidgeted at this. “What’s the point of this, Hana?  Just call for back up and arrest her.” 

“Microscopic evidence of gunpowder on anyone who fires a weapon
is the point
, Jeffers.”  Hana waved her toward the gun with his own.  “Pick it up, Mrs. McKenny and don’t try the gunslinger routine.” 

Jenny stood up from the chair, then felt the room tilt as dizziness swept over her.  She reached out and steadying herself against it, then stepped toward the bed and faced Hana.

“I suppose you’ll shoot me if I refuse.” 

He answered by flicking the safety of his own small revolver and she turned back to the bleeding corpse, picking up the gun with both hands.  With the detective’s gun trained on her, Jenny could think nothing else to do and with her injured shoulder, along with the pain, reluctantly took aim and fired off a round into the wall.

“Good shot, Mrs. McKenny.”  Hana seemed genuinely pleased.  Now toss it onto the bed by his feet.  She did so and he lowered his own weapon.

She shook her head and then stepped backward into the wingback chair.  Her shoulder had now begun to throb and was fogging her brain, “Go ahead, handcuff and arrest me. With what I have to say, your charges will never stand.”  Her head began to swim as her own voice grew distant.

Jeffers’ head turned with a jerk and at the same time, Hana seemed to walk out, then turned about and raised his gun toward her.

“What?” Jeffers looked concerned for the first time and turned to the corrupt cop.  “What did she mean by that?”

Jenny’s mind telescoped, saw the movement of Hana’s gun and watched open-mouthed as its barrel seemed to widen, seemed to grow somehow and become huge.  Terror filled her like water might fill up a cup and only the gun on the bed seemed to offer hope of protection from this huge, unmoving black thing.  She groped for it and with all the energy left in her, brought it up to counter the monster that seemed ready to devour her in one bright flash. 

Shouting erupted from somewhere but the words seemed empty and far away.  In her last moments of clarity she realized the Monster behind it all had wanted her to reach for the gun.

An ear splitting explosion erupted, along with a bright flash, though much smaller than her own paltry effort.  She felt the bullet tear into her flesh; her stomach suddenly torn apart before finally swallowing all that was left of her. 

“George, you’re not hearing me.  One of my best detectives is involved in..." 

Chief Williams' tone changed, no longer polite but now insistent as an edge came into it.  For the past ten minutes, Willy had sat quietly listening to the one sided conversation and his stomach grew tighter with each little twist of this dance of power.  He watched as Williams switched the phone from one ear to the other.  The chief’s thin supply of diplomacy had run low five minutes ago. 

Eyebrows pulled together below an increasingly painted scalp, which like a thermometer, indicated more trouble as the shade darkened.  At this point, Willy would’ve described what lay before him as crimson.

“Dawson, listen to...,” Williams grabbed a pen.  “I know JenelCo is in Monterey and yes that’s under your jurisdiction. 
That’s
why I called you.”  Silence descended far too long as the chief stroked the cheap pen hard with his thumb.  Willy saw the clear plastic begin to bend under the growing pressure as it neared the breaking point. Apparently, so had Chief Williams' patience.

“God damn it, Dawson, you haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?”  Williams paused as Monterey’s Police Chief responded in kind.  “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment, you pathetic excuse for a cop.  I’ll say it again, your best days were as a meter maid, you asshole.”  Williams slammed the phone down with a scowl just as the pen gave up, spraying ink toward Willy. 

“Hey!”  Willy threw up both hands but discovered it was too late as he looked down at his ruined sweatshirt.  “Glad I wasn’t wearing something nice.” 

“What?"  Williams looked up absentmindedly.  "Oh, sorry Johnson.  Looks like you got in my line of fire.”  The Chief shook his head.  “That
prick
, Dawson, refused to send a couple of units over to JenelCo.  Said a detective was already on his way over there right now; cop by the name of Hana.”

Willy shifted uneasily in his chair before speaking.

“Chief, I’ve been hearing rumors about a dirty cop around the peninsula.  Have you heard anything about that?” 

William’s cocked an eye, “No, I haven’t.  What’d you hear, exactly?”

“Couple a girls I’ve been trying to get off the street say a cop’s been flashing a badge, threatening to arrest them if they don’t um....service him.  They wouldn’t say who it was, just that he was some Don Johnson wannabe.” 

“Shit!”  Williams sat up.  That’s Hana all right.” Williams settled slowly back into his chair, causing its springs to groan in protest.  “Monterey’s finest asshole, right up there with Dawson.” 

“Something else, Chief," Willy, said, leaning forward till both elbows rested on his knees. 

“Yeah?” 

“I heard this guy was chummy with Collin McKenny.  The girls I mentioned said Hana would show up with an ex-football player once in a awhile.”

After a moment’s thought, Williams withdrew his service weapon, a Glock 9mm from his desk, then seated the weapon into his shoulder holster.

“Let’s go, Willy," the Chief said, standing.  "All of this is just too damn coincidental.  If Mrs. McKenny is being held against her will like you say, the last thing she needs is for a friend of her brutish husband to come calling.” 

Williams grabbed his jacket and briskly walked out his office with Willy close behind.

“I’m not sure I can do this, Peidmont.  I’m...starting to feel real strange again.” 

Standing in the JenelCo elevator, Oliver turned to eye McKenny as the doors sealed shut. The man’s face seemed to vacillate somehow, as if the skin wasn’t completely stable.  and Oliver felt his heart skip once.

“I thought you wanted to change, McKenny?  You told Alicia you did.”

McKenny leaned against the elevator wall, his head resting against the cool aluminum steel.

“I do,  I really want to be....” The bright sheen of sweat on his forehead evidenced the growing battle within.  McKenny voice faltered briefly, “I do want to change.”

Oliver felt his own sweat now as the plan he and Alicia had worked out began to crumble before him.

“Come on, McKenny, Alicia told you it would be tough.  Weren’t you one of the toughest men in the NFL, or were they just exaggerating?”  He watched as contradictory emotions played across McKenny’s face.  Time, he feared, was running out. 

He punched the button that sent the elevator downward.  “McKenny, you can do this.  Think of this person that used to be your wife, think of Jenel using her for his own twisted games.” 

A growl escaped McKenny’s lips which grew to a roar within the elevator, only to end a few seconds later in a whimper. The elevator touched down silently and after a pause, the doors slid apart to allow in sounds of weeping floating down the hall toward them. 

Oliver stormed past McKenny as his plan evaporated. His chest ready to explode, he followed the sounds of tragedy down a flight of stairs to a recessed hallway.  There he found a group of women holding onto each other as they wept near a door’s entrance.  He pushed past them, his gun in hand and stepped into what appeared to be a complete bedroom setup. 

His eyes quickly adjusted to the low bedroom lighting, revealing two men and a woman kneeling over what appeared to be another woman.  Something about the shoes caught his attention. 

“Jenny!”  His voice choked as he stepped closer and caught a glimpse of blonde hair mixed with blood suddenly the room swam around him. A hand gripped his shoulder, followed by a familiar voice.

“Detective Peidmont, please step back.  I promise, they’re doing all they can.”

Oliver steadied himself and turned, then found himself facing the executive he’d interviewed only days earlier. 

Jeffers lifted his head toward the medics hovering over Jenny. 

“They’re our onsite medical team.  We have them here in case of accidents with the heavy machinery.”  Then, as more of an afterthought, “An ambulance is on the way as well, as are the local police.”

Oliver turned and watched as the trio continued their work.  A moan floated up between them and to Oliver, it seemed the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.  Briefly, he thought he might weep, but managed to reign it in. 

Hold on to that for later,
he thought,
there’s a very good chance she’s still in danger.
 

Only then did Oliver see the two other bodies: Jenel’s splayed out on the bed with what appeared to be a single bullet hole through his heart and that of Cory Hana.  He was able to recognize Hana’s body only because of the familiarly loud shirt, now soaked in a pool of blood.  The shoulders and head lay covered with a permanently borrowed jacket.

Oliver turned to Jeffers.  “What the hell happened?”

Jeffers shook his head, almost in hangdog fashion, “I can’t even begin to make a guess, it’s really such a terrible tragedy.” 

But, after a moment, he did manage one.

“Apparently Mrs. McKenny shot Mr. Jenel, then when Detective Hana stumbled onto the crime, she shot him as well.”  

There was the sound of running feet, followed by several men with medical equipment who burst through the doorway. They forced Oliver and Jeffers aside as they set to work. 

Oliver stared at the executive, aware that he was likely involved in Jenel’s sick game and his boiling rage threatened to spill out.  There was a good chance that Jeffers had shot Jenny and was now here, acting like some innocent bystander. Oliver clenched his fists tightly but allowed nothing to show on his impassive face.

“Where were you when this all happened?’

For an instant, Jeffers’ own face tightened before quickly softening.

”The top of the stairs actually, at the end of the hall.  Once Detective Hana showed up, he ordered me to wait there while he went to check on Mr. Jenel.  When I heard the gun fire, I ran up to my office and called our in-house security and medic team.  Then I dialed 911 for these guys and the local police.”  Jeffers' face sagged dramatically. “Mr. Jenel’s death is a great setback to the company.” 

Yeah, right,
thought Oliver. 
You’ll cry a bucket when you get promoted in his place!
  More feet and voices could now be heard in the hallway and both he and Jeffers turned as Chief Williams and Willy Johnson stepped quickly through the door.

“Ollie, you okay?”  Williams came alongside him and gave his shoulder a squeeze before seeing Jenny. “My God!  What happened to her?” 

“She’s alive, Chief, but she’s been shot,” Oliver said, watching the medics work on Jenny.  After a minute, Willy stepped over to where Hana lay and lifted the coat.   Normally stoic, Oliver saw him wince before abruptly dropping the blood soaked garment.

All turned as the medics carefully lifted Jenny onto the stretcher, then watched as it was raised and locked into position.  Firmly strapped onto the stretcher, Oliver saw that Jenny lay covered with an assortment of tubes, bags and wires before a blanket was finally placed over her still form.  Gathering around her, one man guided the stretcher to the doorway while the two other paramedics pushed at the back, a glistening pool of blood marked the spot where Jenny had fallen. 

“Chief, I’ve got to stay with Mrs. McKenny.”

Oliver trailed behind Jenny’s stretcher as it was squeezed through the doorway.

Williams nodded.

“I understand, Ollie, go ahead. Willy and I’ll stay till the local cops get here to begin their investigation.”

“One more thing, Chief,” Oliver said, turning back, “I’d like a couple of round the clock guards watching Mrs. McKenny.”  Williams nodded, then walked over to the phone to begin making arrangements.

Oliver turned toward Jeffers.  “I’ll need to ask you a great deal about this fairly soon, would tomorrow morning be possible?”

Jeffers nodded. “Of course, Detective.  I’d be happy to answer anything I can, but isn’t this now a Monterey investigation?”   

Oliver peered straight into Jeffers' eyes.

“Yes, but I believe this shooting is connected to Carol Montoya’s murder and that makes this a Pacific Grove concern as well.”  He allowed this to sink in, then turned and caught up with the stretcher. 

“Mr. Jeffers,”  Chief Williams called to the executive as he watched Piedmont go. “I need a list of everyone who’s been in this room since the shooting.”

Paul Jeffers turned to the small intense man who barely reached his shoulders, his face serious.

“Of course, right away.” the executive said, then pulled a small note pad from his right coat pocket, flipped the leather cover open and began compiling the requested names.  As he wrote, he decided to call the Consortium about Jenel’s death once the cops were done.  If he played this event right, he could take Jenel’s place here at JenelCo and perhaps higher.  Chief Williams looked up in time to see Paul Jeffers scribbling away, smiling.

Oliver stood near the garage level elevator at JenelCo, his hands tied uncomfortably behind.  Directly in front of him, Collin held Jenny in a massive head lock, her eyes pleading as the arms about her neck slowly tightened.  He moved to step forward but found both arms immovable as laughter, cruel and mocking rang out from some unknown place.

This is just a dream
, he thought,
that’s not Jenny!
  Yet he found himself pulling frantically at his invisible anchor, leaning forward like a mule tied to a wagon, and yet he moved no closer.  Rage spilled forth as he began to kick and scream as McKenny’s right hand reached around to the back of Jenny’s head. 

"Oh, God! No!"
Oliver screamed. "
Not that!  Not to Jenny!"

Suddenly McKenny turned to him.

“You’re such a pussy, Ollie.  That’s why your wife left you.  Now, Jenny here...,"  he said, nuzzling his head to hers, "will never leave me.  I’ve got good insurance against that.”  McKenny’s massive forearm tightened around her slender neck until no part of it showed, only her terror-stricken eyes.  “Isn’t that right, sweet ‘ums?  You’d rather die than have to leave me.” 

Tears streamed down Jenny's face as she nodded once, then again and again and again.  Their eyes locked together, Oliver watched McKenny suddenly twist her small head in one quick motion, then saw her go limp as McKenny released her to fall at Oliver’s feet. 

“You heard her, Peidmont, that’s what she wanted, you heard her.” 

Oliver woke to the sound of his own screams, felt his body arch toward the ceiling while his arms thrust against the bed and gravity with all their strength.  Sweat poured over his bare chest as the dream’s intensity and horror faded and he fell onto the soaked sheets below. 

“Good God,” he said to the darkness once he’d caught his breath.  “What a nightmare!” 

Still breathing hard, he turned toward the clock and found himself staring at what his grandfather had called the Hour of the Wolf.