Face-off With Death

Tommy slides his car onto the highway; a horn blares behind him. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he finds a diesel on his tail. "I've got to get out of his way." Putting a death grip on the steering wheel, he punches the pedal to the floor. There's a deafening sound behind him as the driver engages his brakes. Tommy looks back to sees the truck is a distance away. Someone is watching out for me, he thinks, relaxing a bit.

Tommy is settling in his seat when he notices several cars in the center of the road. Downshifting, Tommy slams on his brakes. The system locks up causing the car to spin.

Tommy finds a hoard of emergency vehicles on the scene when he regains consciousness. He then remembers what's in the backpack beside him. I can't be caught with that.

He tries to start the car. The engine clicks in response. Not now, he thinks. He jiggles the key and tries again, only to get the same result. Why didn't I get that fixed? He starts to turn the key again when he realizes the steering wheel is bound. He moves it and tries again. The car sputters. You're not pulling that crap on me. Tommy pushes on the gas. The car roars to life. I'm getting this thing fixed when I get back. He's shifting it into gear shift when someone taps on his window. He glances over and finds an officer beside him. He peeks over at the backpack and then the cop. The man knocks again. They have to have a reason to go through my stuff. Besides, It'll look suspicious if I run. He rolls down the window. "Can I help you, sir?"

"I want to make sure you're alright."

"I'm fine."

The officer notices the egg-shaped knot on the side of his head. "Why don't you let a paramedic check you out just to be sure?" He opens the door.

Tommy pulls it closed. "My... my boss will fire me if I'm late again."

"I'm sure he'll understand."

"You don't know my boss." He nervously laughs.

"It'll only take a second." He signals for a First Responder then realizes they're all tied up. "I'll tell you what, if you answer a few questions correctly, I'll let you go, alright?"

"That's fair, I guess."

The officer pulls a piece of paper from his pocket.

Tommy grabs it from his hand. "The day is Friday, it's 2019, and the president is Trump whether we like it or not." He holds the paper out his window. "Now, can I go?"

Chuckling, the officer takes the card. "Have a nice day."

"You too."

***

Pulling up to the crime scene, Rachel glances around. She first notices the vast amount of police cars lined up around the house. She then finds animal control dragging two large, mangy dogs through the overgrown yard. The canines are snapping viciously at their restraints as the officers do their best to contain them. Glancing towards the house, Rachel sees the Medical Examiner shaking her head. That can't be a good sign.

"I'll talk to the officers, find out what's going on," Jerry volunteers."

"And I'll see what Sharon has to say."

"What did you find?"Rachel asks, stepping up beside her.

Sharon has been their ME for nearly thirty years and is known to be one of the best in her field. "The victims, Mr. and Mrs. Harris and their grandson, John, were shot at close range early this morning."

"What sort of time frame are we looking at?"

"According to rigor and body temperature, I'd estimate the time of death between four and seven. I should be able to narrow it down further once I get them to the lab."

"Thank you." Rachel is heading towards the house when Jeff approaches her.

"I believe this is a drug sale gone bad since the only thing that seems to be missing is the cocaine that was stored in the safe. Seeing the sergeant's inquisitive look, he explains, "There was white powder scattered along the bottom."

Rachel picturing the sweet elderly couple in her mind. "Mr. and Mrs. Harris use drugs?"

"I imagine it was their grandson, John. I found several sets of prints. I'm running them through the system now. "

Rachel nods, "Keep looking, see what else you can find, and let me know if you get a hit on the prints."

"Copy that."

"You've got to see this, sergeant, " Kirk yells. Rachel walks over to where he's standing. "The dogs must've gotten ahold of the intruder."

Taking a glove from her pocket, she bends down and picks up a small piece of tan material. Looking up, she sees more leading to the house. she turns the scrap around and says. "This came from a uniform."

"A delivery man, maybe?"

"Or someone pretending to be. I want you to check the hospitals for anyone who was recently treated for a dog bite and have forensics analyze this." She hands the material over.

"I'm on it, sergeant."

Jeff walks over to her. "Sergeant, I got a hit on the fingerprints; it belongs to John Harris, the grandson. The others belong to the owners.

"The intruder grabs everything in the safe. The Harris tries to stop him. He kills them.

Jerry steps up beside her. "That's a plausible theory, sergeant; only the man on the floor isn't their grandson; his name is Charles Montgomery. He's known to have ties with Hernandez, a drug lord for the Mexican cartel."

"I'm very familiar with Hernandez and his crew." Too damn familiar. She's been trying to take them down since she started on the force. A childhood vendetta she's yet to accomplish. "Did you find the grandson?"

"He and his car are gone."

"Was he even home when this occurred?"

"His bed looks slept in, and there are dirty clothes on the floor."

"So, the perp shoots the Harris', John shoots the perp, takes what was in the safe, and leaves."

"That's plausible, Sergeant."

"I want an APB out on him and his car. Start interviewing the neighbors, see what they can tell you."

"Yes, sergeant."

***

Tommy didn't want to do business with his old boss after all he had to go through to get him out of his life, but he's the only one Tommy can think of that would be interested in that much coke. He's also the only one who can tell him how to make a large amount of cash seem legit.

Tommy spots his old boss's car when he pulls up to the back of the rundown bar. I knew he'd be here, Tommy thinks, climbing out of his car. The establishment is one of many Hernandez uses to launder money. This is like old times, he thinks, walking across the lot. Hernadez took him, gave him a job when no one else would at the ripe old age of ten. Tommy gave up the life of crime to marry Jen.

Tommy is halfway across the lot when three gorilla-looking goon runs out to greet him.

The larger of the trio stops in front of him. The others fall in on either side. Glaring into his eyes, The brawny dude says, "You have no business here, so I'd advise you to leave."

"I have something that Hernandez will be interested in." Tommy taps his bag.

"He ain't here, and I'm not sure when he'll be back."

"Then why is his car in the drive?"

"Even if he is, he wouldn't want to deal with the likes of you. So, I advise you to leave before things get ugly," the first man growls, shoving Tommy back. "Understand?" He pushes him again.

"Look, man, I...I don't want any trouble."

"Then I'd advise you to leave."

"I need to talk to your boss; it'll only take a second."

"About what?"

"I have something that might interest him. I found it in a safe." He opens the backpack and shows him the drugs. I'm willing to sell it cheap."

The man anxiously glances around. "How do I know that this isn't a setup?"

"I wouldn't do that to my old boss."

Wrapping his fingers around his neck, the man glares into his eyes and says, "I know all his little falcons, and you ain't one of them."

"I... I use to work for him back in the day." Noticing the skeptical look, He continues. "Just tell him Tommy Campbell is asking for him."

The man sizes him up. "So, you're the one he always talks about, huh?"

"It... It depends on what he says." He nervously chuckles.

The man motions behind him. "We have orders to take you out." Grabbing his gun from his waistband, he presses it against Tommy's head.