04.Final Edge v5 (43 page)

"All right. We can rendezvous with Laird at County Line and Canyon Road, here," Lucas said, pointing to the screen.

The Dragnet program Lucas used also pinpointed the location of every state, county, and dirt road leading in and out of the property, displaying a flashing red O around the perimeter of their destination and several bleeping red Xs at each site where a roadblock made sense. Finally, the program bleeped a blue line from the address of Precinct 31 to the farmstead, the shortest route. As with Meredyth, Jana North stared at the computer image of their target and converging lines of approach.

"Are there any barns or other structures on the property?" Lucas asked Sallie Robeson.

She plucked at something jammed tight in her Lone Star Realty purse. "Yes, a large barn and a tool shed, as well as a root cellar, used for hurricanes and tornadoes as much as for vegetables." She continued to struggle with the thing in her purse, finally tearing it free with a vial of lipstick, a half pack of Big Red gum, a wad of tissue, and a hair clip, all of which Stan Kelton rounded up from the floor.

She had pulled forth a folded Xerox map of overlapping pages held together by cellophane tape. A contented smile creasing her wrinkled face, she handed the map to Lucas. "I've got the locations of the shed and bam clearly marked, Lieutenant, case you asked, and you did."

Lucas smiled in return and asked, "Where's the root cellar?"

"Under the kitchen, a door going down from the kitchen."

Lucas nodded. "Did you ever see any improvements made to the house that Croombs or Mrs. Croombs made?"

"The pens the dogs're kept in were already there. Old chicken coops with high fencing, well maintained. Made a good run for the animals."

"I mean to the house...or perhaps to the barn? Any equipment brought in?"

"I'm not sure I follow you."

"We believe the couple meant to turn the property into a veterinary surgery," explained Meredyth, a bit of a lie to draw the woman out.

"Ahhh... explains a lot. I never knew that." Then Sallie sat biting her lip and staring off into space, her features a mask of uncertainty.

Lucas cautiously prompted her. "We're trying to locate a table, a stainless-steel table like you would see in a veterinary office. It's very important to our investigation."

"My, but I feel I'm inside a Nancy Drew mystery novel."

"Any medical materials or supplies at all that you saw?" pressed Lucas, a tinge of frustration filtering into his voice.

"'Fraid not, no. Saw their two dogs. Healthy, beautiful dogs. Greyhounds he said he saved from a gassing. He seemed a kind man."

Lucas keyed a few strokes and began printing a copy of the electronic map off the computer. "I've got them pinpointed," he said as the printer came to life.

"We'll need a SWAT team going in, hit the out- structures simultaneously, but first we have to brief everyone on the geography and layout while a warrant is being secured, unless Harry tells us the existing two warrants cover any rental property Belkvin entered into."

"Not likely," said Jana North, holding up the warrant she had used at the home. "This one's quite specific to the home, garage, any cars in his name on the premises. If you read the fine print on the one you used at his practice, it's likely also to be specific to that location only. They're just not interchangeable."

The realtor, Sallie, chimed in again. "The woman was in heat to get the electrical and the water up and running, but they never asked about the closest place to shop, which I thought odd."

Everyone strained to hear the words of the matronly realtor's tale as she had begun to whisper. "Said they had a lot more animals than those two dogs to care for, and that's why the need for plenty of space to run the animals, that sort of talk, but again, they didn't seem interested in knowing where the nearest feed store was, you know, for these phantom animals."

"Phantom animals?" asked Jana.

"They talked like they were going to fill the bam and the pastures with animals. Least he did. Talked on and on about it. Friendly in a nonstop talkative way," she said. "You think that's 'cause he might've been, you know, nervous?"

"Quite possibly," Meredyth said, nodding.

"You say you only saw the two dogs? Are these the two you saw?" asked Jana, holding up the photo of Belkvin and his greyhounds.

"That's them, the lovely things...so graceful and well behaved."

"They spoke of other animals on the way?" asked Meredyth.

"They...I mean he...Mr. Croombs, he made some remark that the animals were in transport from Amarillo. When I asked if it was horses, she changed the subject, asked me to walk off the property lines with her."

"And did you?" asked Lucas.

"Oh, no! Heavens. It'd have taken a day to walk those boundary lines, so I showed her how she and Mr. Croombs could step off the lines themselves. Left them a map I'd brought out with me, just like the one I made up for you."

"How many acres is the property?" asked Lucas.

"Fifty-nine, and some odd shape it is; follows along a creek that's one of those ghost streams, you know... comes and goes depending on the time of year. Folks around Navasota call it Old Hazard Creek... runs smack through the property, and some parts of the section they rented cross the creek, and some don't."

"Creek is running flush now, I bet," said Lucas, "given last month's rains from those two passing hurricanes."

"It's full over its banks, yes."

"Jana, you know Judge Henry Lowell fairly well, right?" asked Lucas.

"I'll get you your warrant, Lucas."

'Tell Lowell what we have, plenty of probable cause on the photo and sketch IDs alone. Here's the location." He handed her a copy of the electronic map. "And we need the warrant to extend to any garages, outbuildings, and vehicles owned or rented by the suspects using the names Lauralie and John Croombs, Lauralie Blodgett, or a Dr. Arthur Belkvin."

"Just tell him it's to do with the Post-it Ripper case and he'll want in," said Kelton. "It's coming on election time."

"We'll need to call out another SWAT unit. Hope they don't think we're running on empty again," said Lucas to Stan.

"I'm on top of it, Lucas."

As Jana North and Stan Kelton rushed for the nearby telephones, Lucas stepped away from Mrs. Robeson and Cahill, allowing them to confer. Meredyth followed Lucas. He'd gone back to the large wall map, and now he jabbed a pin into each location on the city and county map where Dr. Arthur Belkvin might be at this moment, including the old farmhouse. Lucas quietly said, "We've got multiple people now all claiming our sketch is of a man they encountered, one a John Croombs, the other a Dr. Arthur Belkvin."

"He's using her mother's name now?" asked Jana.

"Mere, I think you ought to hang back here...let the rest of us handle this out at Kenyon's."

"No way, Lucas. I've earned a right to be there. I want an end to this as much or more than anyone."

"It could be another dead end, you realize? For all we know, they've left the state, gone to Baja or Mexico City."

"No, not her. Him maybe, but not her."

"Okay, you can come along, but you're to hang back. I don't want to give this nutcase a shot at you," he told her.

"Me, what about you? She knows that I love you, and she knows that killing or maiming you would destroy me. You need to hang back as much as I do."

"You love me? That's something I thought I'd never hear after you let it slip that once." Their eyes met and they shared a smile. "All right, agreed. We let the SWAT team storm the place and take them down before we enter. We have Jana directing a separate team from relative safety against the barn, and Stan's earned a right to lead storm troopers against any additional outbuildings."

"We ought to bring Lincoln in on the raid too, Lucas."

"Yeah, Captain Lincoln's definitely going to want to be in on the capture. Election's coming up!" he quipped. "He's also going to want to know about Frank's blunderbuss attempt to make off with our witness and our case."

"I hear Gordon may be running for commissioner if Clarkson keeps his promise to the voters and bows out," Meredyth replied. "A collar like this could get Gordo elected."

"Call him at home," Lucas suggested.

Meredyth got on her cell phone and made the call, explaining to Lincoln the new developments. "Everything's on a snowball's course downhill now, Captain. We've got the bastards in our sights. We're seeing bear tracks."

"Bear tracks?"

"Lucas's word for good signs, good omen, sir."

"He teaching you Cherokee? Never mind. I just hope you two have better results from this information than you did with Belkvin's office and home."

"You've heard all about it then, I take it." She wondered how he had gotten the news, and from whom, and in what way it had been shaded. She also wondered if he had knowledge of Frank's bid to take over the interrogation of a witness with FBI in the room.

An awkward silence telegraphed his real message: I hope you and Lucas know what you 're doing this time.

"We've got them, I tell you," she insisted.

"I certainly hope so. I don't care to continue to look the fool, Doctor. You might want to convey this to Lieutenant Stonecoat. So where is ground zero?"

She easily read the frustration in his voice. She gave him the coordinates from the map, saying they were getting warrants and involving Waller County authorities.

"I've got my radio car. Keep me informed at all times. And Doctor, tell that damned Injun detective of mine I'll meet him at the Interstate along County Line Road out there in Waller County."

He hung up, giving her no chance to respond.

CHAPTER 17

A LONG PARADE of police vehicles of every size and type rode the Interstate for the Canyon Park Road exit north of Houston. They had long since left the lights of the city for the deepening rural darkness of back-country roads, sagebrush, jack pine, and Texas juniper when the order was given to cut the strobe lights, and next the headlights. Running silent, the motorcade looked like a nighttime funeral procession, but for the reflective glow in the dark HPD logos, the SWAT logos, and the Waller County Sheriff's logos. Bringing up the rear, a pair of Houston ambulance and rescue vehicles followed Chang's CSI van. News crews followed at a respectful distance like camp followers, having gotten word of the raid, their satellite vans like so many pachyderms shouldering their way forward as in an elephant walk. At least this is how it all appeared from overhead in the HPD chopper where Meredyth and Lucas had set up their communication and command post. A second police helicopter impatiently held off as well. While Lincoln insisted on leading the main force through the front door of the farmstead, he had also insisted that Lucas and Meredyth remain at a safe distance and altitude until the suspect house and outbuildings were deemed all secure by the captain of the SWAT team, Elliot Andrews. "I mean to insure the successful conclusion of this horror personally," Lincoln had said, "and if that means locking you two up, Stonecoat, I'll do it. It's for your own safety and the safety of every officer going in. Detective North has told me how this madwoman has targeted you for death. Well, we're not going to bait her using you as a target, nor have you rush in there and set off some sort of deadly booby trap either. Understood?"

Lucas suggested they command the operation from the safety of the helicopter, and Lincoln thought it a perfect solution. Now hovering overhead and awaiting the SWAT team deployment, the police helicopter impatiently hung back, prepared to bathe the entire farmstead in light on Elliot Andrews's cue. For now, the two choppers hovered well out of sight, watching as Waller County units split off from the motorcade, going for key roadblock positions. The property was surrounded, locked down. The SWAT unit with Andrews and Lincoln at the helm had turned onto the tree-lined dirt road leading up to the farmhouse. A single light from inside the house seemed to wink up at them through the trees in a mocking manner.

Andrews's voice came over the headphones Lucas wore, using the code names they'd agreed upon. "Flying Wolf, this is Badger One. My men are deployed, and we are a go! Give us five minutes and light up the night."

Lucas replied, "That's affirmative, Badger One, Flying Wolf out." He communicated with the second chopper. They had clearly gotten Andrews's thumbs-up.

Just behind Lucas, watching from the bubble of the chopper, Meredyth saw what looked like toy soldiers come alive, having leaped from the two SWAT vans and run into the tree cover, now on their stomachs, some crouching, some moving left, others right as they encircled the farmhouse, the shed, and the bam. She watched them inch ever closer to the clearing around the home. In the dark, their forms looked like animated green brush, their camouflage making them living shadows. They were minutes away from an all-out assault on the farmhouse when one of the news vans shone a spotlight that revealed them and placed the men in danger.

"Damn those idiots!" cursed Lucas even as the light was doused. The element of surprise was compromised as the spotlight had flooded—for the half second it was on— directly into the living room window. Lucas ordered a move in, shouting to Andrews, "Go, Badger One! Now!" The two choppers flooded the entire area in huge circles of blinding light, and Elliot Andrews had not waited for Lucas's order, having already given the go order to his units at the moment of compromise. Andrews, along with Captain Lincoln, stormed in on the heels of the SWAT men who'd overwhelmed the place with forty-six AK-47 assault rifles pointed, men having spilled through every rammed door and shattered window. The shed and bam were simultaneously secured, Lucas and Meredyth hoping nothing untoward would happen to people on the ground, including the captain, Jana North, Andrews, and Stan Kelton.

No shots had rung out. Only the roar of the dueling rotor blades filled the air. Lucas and Meredyth saw some of Andrews's men already exiting the house, guns limp in their grasp, one or two on his knees as if in prayer, others bent over the porch rails, dejection on the heels of elation and adrenaline-pumping expectations now dashed. Others, their assault rifles shouldered, walked off in obvious defeat. The second chopper whirred low and over the scene.