Authors: Aimée & David Thurlo
“You tell your brother and that handyman to stay away from my house. Nobody’s touching my herb garden. I’m walking out of this place on my own two feet, not that stupid chair.” Rose’s face was animated now, her face flushed with
anger.
“I’ll tell him exactly what you said, Mother. Does that mean I shouldn’t be looking for someone to take care of you when you’re released?” Ella was on a roll.
“Nobody is going to follow me around in my own home like some baby-sitter. I’m already sick of not having any privacy here. If I need your help, I’ll ask for it. Now you two leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?” Rose turned
away and looked out the window.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Ella and Carolyn burst out laughing.
“What a team we make!” Carolyn managed, laughing. “First the antiques, and then her herb garden.”
“Everything worked like a charm. And if you keep your end up, pretty soon nobody will be staying long when they visit. Between us, we’ll have her cooperating with the doctors and literally
on her feet in no time. Mom will be fighting to go back home.”
Ella drove back to the station, worry clouding her features. Now that they were actively working to get Rose ready to come home, she wondered if she really would need to find someone who could come in and take care of her mother. Guilt assailed her until she remembered the hospital also had a social worker. Maybe they could find somebody
Rose knew to come in and check on her from time to time. With Ella’s irregular hours, there wasn’t any other choice.
From the moment she walked inside the station, she knew something was up. The mood had lifted somehow. She was walking past Big Ed’s office when he called out to her.
“Ella. We’ve finally got a break on a case, one that links up with that note you got in the mail,” he said waving
her to a chair.
“What’s going on?”
“The preliminary hearing for the bank robbers is set for later this afternoon. FB-Eyes called me about five minutes ago. In exchange for reduced sentences and new identities, Joey and Barbara Baker will testify that the heist was arranged by The Brotherhood, and the operation was an organizational ‘fund-raiser.’ The one hitch is that they’ll only give their
statements to you.”
“Me? Why?”
“I don’t know, but they’re behind bars and no threat. I say you go over there and play this hand out. Maybe we can get enough information from them to follow up on the threat to you.”
Ella nodded. “Enough to find the hit man before he finds me,” she said. “I’ll give Blalock a call and set up the meet.”
Ella phoned Blalock and then got underway. They’d both agreed
that the Bakers’ stipulation that she be present was unusual, but the payoff would be worth it. As an extra precaution, Ella decided to have Justine tail her, rather than ride along, but the trip was uneventful.
Ella parked next to the courthouse. Blalock’s car was only two rows away. As she made her way around to the entrance, she saw a drunken street person leaning against the side of a store
front that was adjacent to an alley. Hearing the dirty-faced Anglo woman retching loudly, people walked by quickly, turning away and trying to ignore her.
As Ella approached, a strange feeling spread over her. Her skin tingled, her heart pounded, and she felt the certainty of danger. Her badger fetish was warm, almost hot against her flesh.
Instead of looking away, like the other pedestrians
were doing, instinct told Ella not to take her eyes off the woman. Something wasn’t quite right, though the smell of alcohol and the bottle of cheap whisky seemed consistent with the image being projected.
She studied the vagrant carefully and realized what it was. The woman had one hand in her pocket, and the other was covered with well-made, skin-tight leather gloves. The pricey accessory didn’t
fit with the old, moth-eaten coat and worn scarf, and it was too warm today for gloves, even for someone who’d been outside all day.
Ella also noticed that the woman kept looking in her direction, but always avoided making eye contact. Most street people she’d come across used eye contact to keep others at a distance, because they trusted no one.
Hoping Justine would have the sense to keep back,
Ella took a step into the alley to see what would happen. The woman suddenly spun around, pulling a silenced automatic pistol from her pocket. In a fluid, reflex action, Ella grabbed her attacker’s wrist with her left hand, forcing the gun down and away. Simultaneously, she stepped across the woman’s path, bumping into her heavily and, throwing her off balance, pushed against her while she grabbed
the gun with her right hand. Using her assailant’s body to gain extra leverage, Ella was able to wrestle the weapon from the woman’s grip. It fell to the sidewalk.
The woman retaliated quickly, landing a hard left to Ella’s stomach. Seeing the right hand coming as she tried to catch her breath, Ella dodged and grasped the woman’s arm as it passed by. Moving quickly, she forced it behind the woman’s
back in a lock.
The woman continued to struggle and kick, though the pain must have been considerable. “Keep it up, and you’ll break your own arm,” Ella warned.
The woman didn’t seem to hear her, or maybe just didn’t care. She jerked back, hitting Ella on the chin with the back of her head. Ella tightened her grip, forcing the woman down almost to her knees. The woman tried once again to jerk
free. Ella heard and felt a snap, and the woman groaned.
“You just broke your arm. Don’t make this harder on yourself than you already have. Quit struggling so I can get you some medical attention.”
The woman leaned forward and kicked back again, catching Ella in the stomach. As Ella staggered back, losing her grip, the woman fumbled around with her left hand inside her blouse, reaching for
a backup gun in her bra.
“Leave it,” Justine said.
Ella turned around. Justine had her pistol aimed right at the woman’s chest. “Took you long enough,” Ella muttered.
“I couldn’t find a parking space.”
Ella removed the backup pistol, handcuffed the woman despite the probable broken bone, then read her her rights. The woman never gave any indication that she was in pain, nor in any mood to
talk. Her single-mindedness frightened Ella. Justine quickly took the names and addresses of the startled witnesses for later followup.
Blalock met them as they came through the courthouse/police station door, took one look at the prisoner, and gave Ella and Justine a surprised look. “What’s this?”
“One second.” Ella turned their prisoner over to a pair of Farmington cops at the booking desk,
and explained briefly what had happened. Surrendering custody, after they agreed to lock up the prisoner and have a doctor look at her injury, Ella returned to where Blalock stood.
“Okay. Now we can talk,” she said.
“What the hell was that all about? Did the woman throw up on your Jeep? She looks awfully pale.”
Ella scowled at him. “Save it.” She recounted what had taken place, showing him
the backup gun and silencer-equipped pistol, both of which Justine had wrapped in a handkerchief, pending further investigation.
“Well, with those weapons in custody, and several witnesses, this won’t turn into another excessive-force suit,” Blalock muttered. “You think it was a set up from the beginning?”
“Yeah. The promised statement from the Bakers was probably just a way to throw me off.
This must have all been part of the contract The Brotherhood put out on me.”
“Let’s go have our little talk with Joey and Barbara Baker,” Blalock said.
“Right. I’ll bet my last dime that they were the ones who put me in the path of that assassin. How else could the killer have known I was coming?”
“Let’s push them with a murder-conspiracy charge and see if they crack.”
“I have another idea.
Shepherd seems to be the weakest link in this chain. Leave the Bakers out of the loop for a while longer. Have Shepherd brought in to us.”
“Done.”
Blalock led them to a conference room, just off the judge’s chambers, then left to make arrangements for the prisoner to be brought in. As soon as they were alone, Ella requested a Farmington officer join them and turned to Justine. “I want you and
the officer to make sure those guns are entered into evidence. Then you should go back to the booking desk and find out everything you can about the woman who attacked me. And make sure she’s getting medical care. I don’t want another brutality suit coming my way. Then track down the witnesses and get their statements. Blalock and I will work on Shepherd. If you find out anything that’ll give us
an edge, let me know right away.”
As soon as the Farmington officer arrived, Justine hurried out. Blalock returned, accompanied by another Farmington officer leading Shepherd, who was handcuffed and had a chain connecting his handcuffs to leg irons. The prisoner had to walk in short, shuffling steps. Shepherd’s court-appointed attorney, a young man who appeared to be fresh out of law school,
entered the room a moment later, out of breath.
Shepherd sat down at a small wooden table, his wary eyes darting back and forth from Ella to Blalock.
Ella sat across the table from him in the only other chair, a tape recorder in front of her. “You’re in a lot more trouble now than when you were first booked, Mr. Shepherd,” she said. “You’re now involved in a conspiracy to murder a police officer.”
Shepherd groaned, saying nothing, but his attorney’s eyes grew wider. “This is news to us. I want to hear all the charges against my client, pronto. When did all this come about?”
“Late-breaking news, counselor,” Ella said. “The murder attempt took place less than an hour ago.”
Shepherd leaned forward. “Wait a second. I’m no killer. A convicted thief, yes, but not a murderer, and I certainly
would never be stupid enough to go after you.”
Ella smiled slowly. “I didn’t say there had been an attack against me.”
“But I thought…”
“No, you didn’t, you know. That’s why you’re in this new mess.” Ella watched the prisoner squirm.
The young attorney glared at her. “Do you intend to offer my client some kind of a deal, or are we just playing games?”
“If he’s willing to turn state’s evidence,
we can arrange to drop some of the dozen or so charges against him, I’m sure,” Blalock said.
“You’re in this up to your neck, Shepherd,” Ella said “The best thing that can happen, unless you cooperate, is that you’ll get twenty years in prison.”
“The worst is that the judge will consider your latest trick as a third offense and that’ll mean life without parole,” Blalock added.
Shepherd turned
one shade paler, and looked at his attorney.
The young attorney gave him a tired shrug. “That’s only
if
they get a conviction. We haven’t seen what they’ve got on you yet, so I’m not willing to assume they can.”
“How can you blame me for what happened when I’ve been in jail all this time?” Shepherd said, looking at Ella and Blalock.
“Knowing about it makes you a co-conspirator, or at least
an accessory. Where you were when you obtained that information isn’t relevant.”
Shepherd cursed. “I had nothing to do with trying to kill you,” he repeated stubbornly.
“But by your own words, you’ve established before witnesses that you knew what was being planned,” Ella said.
The young attorney moved closer to his client. His voice was whisper-soft, but Ella managed to hear enough of what
he said to get the gist of it. “Their evidence against you, as far as it pertains to the bank robbery, is solid. Your chances of beating those charges are slim. If they can pin conspiracy to murder on you, you probably won’t get the third strike, but you’ll go away for a very long time. If they offer you a deal you can live with, take it.”
“If I talk to you straight, you’ll get me out of jail?”
Shepherd asked Blalock.
“I can ask the DA to offer you a deal for a reduced sentence, and I can
guarantee
you won’t be kept anywhere near the Bakers,” Blalock said.
Ella saw Shepherd hesitate. “I’d take that if I were you. I don’t think you’ve got much of a choice, really. Once we prove that you’re involved in this conspiracy, your future prospects are in the hands of a local jury. People in
Farmington are very unforgiving toward criminals nowadays, I hear.”
Shepherd shifted in his chair, his gaze darting around like that of a trapped animal looking for an escape. “I knew about it, but I wasn’t part of the plan, okay? Barb and Joey do whatever they please. They don’t consult me.”
“The Bakers hired the assassin?” Blalock pressed.
“Oh, hell no. They don’t have enough money to buy
popcorn at the movies, let alone enough to contract a hit.”
“Then who?” Ella prodded, fighting the urge to shake the weaselly Shepherd until his teeth rattled.
“Barbara hated you from the moment you screwed up her plan to spring Joey. She contacted Martin Miller, the lawyer who is connected to The Brotherhood. Joey said they made a deal with him to set you up in exchange for him representing
them. The Brotherhood wants you dead, and they were more than happy to use Barb’s help.”
“Was the robbery a way to raise funds to hire the hit man?” Ella asked.
Shepherd shrugged. “I don’t know about that. All I knew for sure about the robbery was that I’d get my cut after expenses. What Barb and Joey chose to do with theirs was their business as far as I was concerned.”
“You’ll have to testify
to all this in court,” Blalock said.
“I’ll do it, providing you get me moved someplace back east where I know they won’t be able to get to me.”
“Deal,” Blalock said. “Assuming the DA goes along with it. And I think she will.”
“The Bakers will deny everything, though,” Shepherd said, “and so will Miller, their attorney. It’ll be my word against all of theirs, and Miller will argue that I’m just
trying to save myself. Miller has no record, and he’s one smooth cookie. By the time he’s finished, wanna guess whose side the jury will be on?”
Ella didn’t answer him. It wasn’t necessary. They all knew Shepherd was right.
FOURTEEN