Bullseye (15 page)

NINETEEN

C
aleb’s plane arrived on time at nine twenty-three the next morning. Mason stood beside Karina outside the security gate, yawning as he searched for a glimpse of his friend in the flow of people who exited. It had been another long night, this time spent in the car parked right beside Officer Graham’s police cruiser. Mason felt like he needed to watch Graham as much as the apartment. He was slightly comforted that Parker arranged his patrol route that he came by every so often to check on them. Only when the shift changed at four this morning and Graham was replaced by another officer, who seemed to be a decent guy, did Mason allow himself to catch a few hours’ sleep.

Spotting Caleb in a crowd wasn’t hard. Not only did the guy stand a full head above most everyone else, his looks were distinctive enough to draw attention. Broad shoulders and arms the size of small hams presented an intimidating picture on anyone, but the long hair caught back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, and the multicolored tattoos that covered both arms, ensured that those who surrounded him gave him plenty of room. Of course if they’d known the gentle giant at all, they wouldn’t have been intimidated. Unless, of course, they were freaked out by someone who launched into prayer at the drop of a hat.

“There he is.” Mason raised an arm above his head and waved.

Karina’s eyes widened. “Wow. He’s…big.”

“Yeah, don’t let his size scare you.” He grinned down at her. “You can take him.”

Caleb caught sight of them and veered in their direction. When Mason’s hand clasped his strong grip, a powerful relief washed over him. Finally someone he could trust to help keep Karina safe.

The big man cocked his head to get a look at the side of Mason’s scalp. “Brother, you look like you lost a fight with a blowtorch.”

“Yeah. It’s nothing.” Mason shrugged off his concern. “Listen, thanks for coming on such short notice.”

“Not a problem, but do me a favor. Next time you schedule a flight for me, give me more time to change planes. I ran the whole way and even then I almost didn’t make the connection.”

Mason chuckled at the image of Caleb running through the airport, ponytail flapping in the breeze behind him. People were probably diving sideways to get out of his way.

“Sorry about that, buddy. I wanted you here as soon as possible.” He put a hand at the small of Karina’s back. “Karina, this is my friend Caleb Buchannan.”

Caleb’s giant paw swallowed her dainty hand, and Mason almost laughed at the way she had to tilt her head back to look into his face.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice.” Her smile was polite and tentative.

“Happy to do it, Sister. The Lord has sent me out on shorter notice than this. I’ve learned to be ready to move whenever He does.”

The smile transformed itself into a real one. “You’re a believer?” Her gaze flicked toward Mason as if shocked that he even knew a Christian.

“Sure am. And Sister, I don’t need to see that cross hanging around your neck to know Who you belong to. I can see Him shining in your eyes.”

Oh, great. In another minute they’ll probably start up a prayer meeting right here in the terminal
.

Mason hurried to break into the conversation. “Can we get out of here before you two start singing hymns or something?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but headed for the exit.

Karina fell in beside him. Shouldering his duffel bag, Caleb posited himself on her other side. They must have looked like the Mod Squad, pacing through the airport.

In the parking garage Caleb folded himself into the car’s backseat. “You couldn’t have rented a real car? This one’s no bigger than a toy.”

From the driver’s seat Mason glanced into the back. Caleb’s long legs were scrunched up against the passenger seat, his chin almost resting on his knees.

“Sorry, dude. I didn’t know I was going to be chauffeuring a giant around town.”

“Oh, here. Let me give you some more leg room.” Karina scooted the seat up as far as it would go. “Is that better?”

“I’ll be fine, Sister.” A chuckle rumbled in the backseat. “I just like to give our friend here a hard time.”

“It’s a skill he practices,” Mason told her as he backed out of the parking space.

It was such a relief to have Caleb here, Mason’s mood felt lighter than it had in days. Surely now they’d make some progress. And now that he had help watching out for Karina, he was ready to push the envelope a little.

“Where are we going?” asked Karina as she snapped her seatbelt.

“I think it’s time to stop playing around.” He turned his head and caught her eye. “Let’s see what we can find out from Maddox.”

* * *

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Karina smoothed a crease out of her slacks as she followed Mason out of the elevator on the fifteenth floor of Russell Maddox’s office building. If she’d known she would be coming here, she would have taken a little more care with her dress this morning. And her hair was its usual uncontrollable mess. She should have clasped it into submission at the back of her head.

What a dumb thing to worry about it. If we’re right, Maddox is a cold-blooded killer who is trying to send my brother to prison. Who cares what he thinks of me?

But the plush carpet of the office, the obviously expensive framed artwork on the walls, the very faint sound of classical music, intimidated her. Not to mention the stylish woman seated behind the gleaming polished wood of the receptionist desk. Makeup perfect, fingernails long and perfectly rounded, shining blond hair caught in an elegant twist at the nape of her neck. The smile she turned on them was cool, professional and not the slightest bit welcoming. She didn’t react to the burns on Mason’s face at all. Karina didn’t attribute the lack of reaction to professionalism—more like she couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Welcome to Grayscale Incorporated. How can I help you?”

Karina and Caleb hung back, but not Mason. He marched right up to the edge of the desk and awarded the seated woman a confident smile. “We’re here to see Russell Maddox.”

“What time is your appointment?”

“We don’t have one.”

The woman’s smile became patronizing. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Maddox is a very busy man.”

“I’m sure he is, but we only need a minute of his time.” Mason put a hand on the polished surface of the desk and leaned toward her. “I’m an old friend.”

From the stiff arrangement of the woman’s features, it was clear she doubted Mason’s claim. But his confident manner must have worked, because she said, “Who may I tell him is here?”

“Mason Sinclair. Tell him I’m Margie Sinclair’s widower.”

For the first time Karina saw emotion flicker on her face. Her eyes softened at the word
widower.
She picked up the telephone, punched two buttons and announced to the person on the other end that a friend of Mr. Maddox’s was in the front lobby requesting a few minutes of his time. She gave Mason’s name, listened for a moment and then nodded.

When she’d replaced the receiver, she looked back up at Mason. “Please have a seat, Mr. Sinclair. Mr. Maddox’s assistant is going to see if he has a moment to speak with you.”

Mason turned to award Karina and Caleb a private grin, and gestured toward a small and elegantly appointed waiting area. Karina perched on the edge of a gold upholstered armchair. She barely had time to take in her surroundings before a woman, this one not quite as fashion-model sleek as the first but every bit as professional, approached from around the corner. Steel gray hair cut in a short, sweeping style framed an unsmiling face.

“Mr. Sinclair?”

Mason stepped toward her. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Mr. Maddox has a very important conference call in ten minutes, but he’ll see you now.”

He cocked his head sideways for a second, and then nodded. “Ten minutes should be about right.”

No thanks. No apology. In fact, he acted like
he
was the one making time for the meeting, not Maddox. How did he have the nerve to maintain that cocky attitude in the face of such an imposing woman? He held out an arm toward Karina, and she hurried down the hallway after the assistant, a step ahead of Mason and Caleb.

At the end of a long hallway they entered a spacious outer office, apparently the assistant’s domain. Standing in the doorway stood the man they had seen leaving Casa del Sol
two nights ago.

He came forward, hand extended. “Mason, how are you? It’s been a long time. I didn’t realize you were back in Albuquerque.”

“Just here for a visit,” Mason replied as he shook the hand. “Let me introduce my friends, Caleb Buchannan and Karina Guerrero.”

Russell Maddox wasn’t a small man by any means, but even he had to look up into Caleb’s face. For some reason that boosted Karina’s confidence and she was able to shake Maddox’s hand without trembling.

“A pleasure to meet you both. Please come in.” He stepped back and waved them into the office. “Have a seat.”

They arranged themselves in comfortable chairs situated in one corner of the office. When Maddox had seated himself, he turned a pleasant expression on Mason.

“So what can I do for you?”

Karina had no idea what Mason planned to say. On the trip over, he would only tell them that he wanted to go straight to the top and see what he could discover by speaking with the “head goon,” as he called Maddox. Even so, it came as a shock when he answered with a pleasant smile that was at complete odds with his words.

“We were actually hoping you would call off your goons so Karina’s brother could have at least a chance at a fair trial.”

Shocked silence rang in the office. With an effort, Karina controlled her urge to gasp. Caleb cleared his throat and gave close attention to the carpet beside his chair. Mason, on the other hand, looked steadily into Maddox’s face.

The polite smile slid from the executive’s features, leaving a chilly stare in its place. His gaze flickered toward Karina, then back to Mason. “Pardon me?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know that Karina’s brother is Alexander Guerrero.”

She saw understanding dawn in his eyes. “Ah. The young gang member who killed his friend. I did see a report about that on the news.”

A flush rose to heat her face, but Karina didn’t say anything. This interview was Mason’s to handle.

“That’s what they’re saying. But I think we both know that isn’t what happened.”

Maddox crossed his legs. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on. We’ve done our homework. We know you own the grocery store and the restaurant where those boys worked.”

A quiet laugh issued from the man, and he folded his arms across his chest. “Not that it makes any difference, but those businesses are owned by subsidiaries, not by me.”

Mason continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “We also know you’ve got a couple of lawyers in your pocket.” He leaned forward in the chair and rested his forearms on his knees, displaying no sign that he was bluffing. “And we know about the guns.”

The man’s eyes narrowed to slits. “When your wife was killed, I tolerated your ridiculous accusations because I felt sorry for you. But I’m not as tolerant as I used to be.” His gaze flicked toward Caleb. “Nor am I easily intimidated.”

“We’re not trying to intimidate you.” There was not even a hint of a smile on Mason’s face now. “But unless you lay off the kid, we’re going to take you down. That’s a personal promise, from me to you.”

The weight of the tension in the room pressed against Karina until she was afraid to breathe, or even move. Finally Maddox got to his feet.

“This interview is over. Joyce?” His call resulted in the door being thrown open immediately and his assistant stepping into the room.

“Yes, sir?”

“Please show Mr. Sinclair and his friends out.” He didn’t take his gaze off Mason’s face. “And then notify security that if they’re seen on the premises again, they should be held until the police arrive to arrest them for harassment.”

Karina gathered her purse and hurried to the door, Caleb close behind her. Mason took his time, his expression insolent as he passed the woman.

She followed them down the hall and stood watching as they filed onto the elevator. Only when the doors had slid closed and they could no longer see her stern stare did Karina allow her muscles to relax.

Caleb leaned against the back wall and shook his head. “You handled that with your usual finesse, Brother. I’m not sure what you wanted to accomplish, but I don’t think you hit your mark.”

A satisfied, almost smug expression overtook Mason’s features. “Actually, if that guy’d been a target, I just hit the bullseye.”

She looked at him. “How so?”

“You didn’t see it?” He looked from her to Caleb. “Did you?”

“I didn’t see anything except one really ticked off dude who doesn’t like you at all.”

“What are you talking about, Mason?” Karina asked. “What did you see?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t see it. Doesn’t anybody read body language?”

They both shook their heads.

“When I started talking about Alex, he crossed his legs. A protective gesture. Then I mentioned the restaurant and store, and he folded his arms.”

Karina stared at him, her mind blank. “So?”

“That’s another protective gesture, this one stronger. When someone crosses their arms they’re creating a shield of protection. But that wasn’t the best part.”

Caleb watched him, his expression clearly showing he was impressed. “And what was that?”

The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open.

“A tick.” Mason grinned at her. “When I said the word
guns,
a muscle below his left eye twitched.” He rubbed his hands together like a little boy who’d just been given a birthday present. “We’re going to nail this guy.”

With that he exited the elevator, leaving them to follow.

TWENTY

T
he night stretched to unbearable lengths. Mason paced the confines of Karina’s small apartment, from the kitchen table where Caleb and she sat to the mini-blinds at the front window. Outside a police cruiser was parked again in the first parking space nearest Karina’s front door. Not Parker, unfortunately. Once again Grierson had assigned Graham to guard duty and Parker to cover both their patrols.

The conversation in the kitchen had quickly grown uncomfortable. Caleb and Karina had begun by comparing notes on their pastors’ preaching styles, and then moved to the controversy over traditional versus contemporary worship music, and had finally settled on their personal beliefs in prayer. That they were both enjoying themselves immensely was obvious from their animation as they talked about their beliefs. Mason had lost interest way back at the beginning and left the table.

He lifted the slats on the blinds and peeked outside. Officer Graham sat in his cruiser, the light from his laptop illuminating his face through the windshield. Mason could just make out the heavy forehead, the square jaw and black caverns where his eyes were located. The head lifted and faced his way, and Mason felt the gaze fix on him. He released the slats and the blinds fell back into place.

Caleb’s voice in the kitchen carried into the room. “But I still don’t understand how anyone can say ‘I Surrender All’ isn’t every bit as worshipful as one of the more current songs.”

“It can be,” Karina agreed. “It’s all in the delivery style.”

It took all Mason’s strength not to shout toward the kitchen,
I surrender! If you’re going to talk about church all night, just shoot me now and put me out of my misery.

There had been a time when he could have entered the discussion with a definite opinion. But he hadn’t set foot inside a church since Margie’s death, and didn’t plan to change that any time in the future.

“Amen, Sister.” Caleb’s voice warmed to his topic. “I wish you could hear the worship team at my church. You’d love them.”

The walls of the apartment loomed up on either side of him and seemed to press inward. Next thing he knew, they’d start singing together. If he had to listen to another word about church, screams would be imminent.

His hand was on the door handle almost before he’d made a conscious decision.

“I’m going to take a walk,” he shouted into the other room. “Be back in a minute.”

“Be careful, Brother. Don’t go far.”

The words accompanied him as he stepped outside into the night, and then he closed the door behind him. Thank goodness the only things making sounds out here were crickets.

* * *

Karina looked toward the kitchen doorway, listening to the sound of the front door closing. Mason had been increasingly agitated as the night progressed. Part of the reason, of course, was the waiting. They’d prodded Russell Maddox, and now they could only wait to see how he’d respond.

But the bigger reason for Mason’s irritability was his friend Caleb.

When she was sure Mason had gone outside and couldn’t overhear, she lowered her voice and fixed the giant man with a gaze.

“Tell me about Mason these days. He’s so different from the man I used to know.”

Caleb’s gaze followed hers. “He’s a hurting soul, Sister. I’ve known that since I met him a few months after he moved to Atlanta. I could sense the pain in him. I just didn’t know how deep his wounds went until your call came on Monday.”

“He doesn’t go to church at all?”

He shook his head. “Won’t even consider coming with me. I’ve asked several times. But every now and then he says something that shows me he knows more about Scripture than he lets on.”

“Oh, he definitely knows his Bible. Or at least he used to.” A memory surfaced, and Karina’s lips twitched with a smile. “The first year I met Mason, he was the Bible Bingo champion of our youth group. He used to stand up there in the front of the sanctuary and spout verses from memory that I’d never even heard of.”

Delight lightened the big man’s features. “Bible Bingo champ, huh?”

“Oh, yes. And it wasn’t just head knowledge, either.” She traced a finger around the rim of the tea mug in front of her. “I once saw him lead three street gang members to the Lord using nothing but Scripture, explained in a way they could understand.”

“Mason?” Caleb’s stare was incredulous. “The guy who was just here a minute ago?”

She laughed. “The same. Only…” Her laughter faded. “Not the same, either. He’s changed.”

“His wife’s death?” Caleb asked, his voice gentle.

Karina nodded. “I wonder if he blames the Lord for letting her die.”

“He wouldn’t be the first to question why bad things happen to good people. Or the first to blame God, either.” He dipped his head, and forced her to look into his eyes. “How about you, Sister? Are you okay with the bad things in your past?”

The tea had grown cold. She tilted the mug toward her, watched the cool liquid swirl inside. “If you’re asking if I’ve forgiven Mason for dumping me and marrying someone else, then yes. I’m past that.”

His next words came as softly as feathers floating on a breeze. “And what about your feelings? Have you been healed of the pain?” His tone dropped to almost a whisper. “Have you gotten over him?”

Regardless of the volume, his question hit her like a slap in the face. Was she over Mason? Could she truly say she had moved on, had put her love for him behind her?

A prickle started behind her eyes, and she couldn’t lift her gaze from the cold tea in her mug. “Does anybody ever get over their first love?”

A mitt-sized hand snaked across the table to cover hers. “Not if the Lord gave it to them.”

Her vision blurred. “If our love came from the Lord, then why did Mason throw it away for someone else? We shared something precious, and he killed it.” She blinked back the tears and rushed on. “I have forgiven him, truly. But I want to know why, especially if…” She didn’t finish the sentence, though it burned in her mind.
Especially if I’m going to ever trust in love again.

His hand pressed on hers. “I wish I knew. But I can tell you that every human being in the world has done something they regret. We’ve all thrown away the blessings God has in store for us, thinking we were choosing something better. That doesn’t mean the blessings stop coming, though. Remember, God is in the business of bringing dead things to life.”

She didn’t have time to fully consider the meaning behind his words, because at that moment, they heard a shout coming from the vicinity of the front porch.

And then a gunshot.

* * *

Mason closed the front door behind him and stood for a moment on the concrete, enjoying the silence. Well, not really
silence.
The neighbors’ stereo boomed in the night air, and from one of the apartments on the right a woman’s shrill voice was raised in an argument. But it was a comfortable, domestic sort of argument, with no hint of real anger. The kind of argument a mother has with her kids when they ignore her request to brush their teeth and get ready for bed.

A sudden light in the interior of the police cruiser drew his attention. Graham had opened his door, and the dome light illuminated him. Mason eyed the guy. Probably just walking around the area, following Grierson’s directions. But no. Instead of turning left or right to pace the sidewalk as he’d done many times the night before, he headed straight for Mason.

Mason narrowed his eyes and watched his approach. What was Graham’s role in all this? He was hiding something, of that Mason was sure. Was he in deep with Maddox, or just a paid placement on the force, somebody to keep an eye out on police activity and report back? Or maybe to turn a blind eye at just the right moment, like when a teenager is walking down the street, carrying a heavy package from the Superette to the restaurant?

He arrived at the concrete slab that served as a sort of porch for the first floor apartments in this building, and greeted Mason with a cautious nod.

“Everything all right inside?”

“Just fine.” Mason clipped his answer short. He stood with his back to Karina’s door, staring out at the parking lot.

Graham stepped up to stand beside him. “You know, your conspiracy theory is pretty hard to believe.”

Mason didn’t answer. What was this guy up to? A fishing expedition, maybe? The radio clipped to his belt erupted with static and then a female dispatcher’s voice called for an
officer’s ten-twenty. Graham twisted a dial, and the volume decreased as the officer gave his response.

“I mean, the level of corruption you’re talking about would have to reach pretty high up in our judicial system. And there’d be cops involved, too. Have to be.”

Mason’s senses went on full alert. This couldn’t be a confession. No reason for the guy to confess to anything, especially to him. There was another reason, and whatever it was, Mason didn’t like it.

“Yeah, there would.”

“Cops in on an illegal arms scheme.” From the corner of his eye, Mason saw him shake his head. “Sits heavy in your gut, doesn’t it?”

Mason turned his head a fraction, just enough to get a sideways look at the man’s face. The grim lines of his jaw bunched and moved as he ground his teeth. Something was about to happen, something big. Had Maddox sent his pet cop here with a warning? Or maybe with something stronger than a warning? He tensed his muscles, ready to tackle Graham if he even
looked
like he was making a move toward his weapon.

“As I said, hard to believe. I wish I could say impossible to believe.” He turned to look Mason in the face. “But I can’t.”

Here it comes.
Mason edged around to face his attacker, and planted his feet squarely on the concrete.
Face an attack head-on. Never let them hit you from the side.

“What are you trying to say, Graham?”

“I’ve been nosing around in your record.”

Mason blinked. Where was he going with that? “Yeah?”

“You were clean. A solid record. No reason to think you killed your wife. No evidence at all, just that life insurance policy.”

That came close to crossing a line. To have a crooked cop bring up Margie’s death stirred a deep, smoldering fire and brought Mason’s anger to a simmer. His hands tightened into fists. “If you have a point, you’d better get to it.”

Their eyes locked in an unbreakable stare. Mason couldn’t have torn away if he’d wanted to. But he didn’t want to, because he could see secrets hovering in the depths of Graham’s intense gaze, secrets…and questions.

And then Graham broke their stare. His eyes moved as his gaze flickered sideways. Surprise registered, and several things happened at once.

The bushes behind Mason’s back rustled.

Graham’s right hand went toward his holster. He shouted something right in Mason’s ear. His left shot out toward Mason.

Instinct kicked in, and Mason ducked and dodged sideways. His next move would have been to ram his head into Graham’s gut to throw him off balance. But the chance did not come.

A gunshot cut through the night. The echo rang off the brick building.

The force of the bullet threw Graham backward and he landed on the concrete with a sickening thud.