Necessary Decisions, A Gino Cataldi Mystery (26 page)

Doran dropped it in the bowl. “Now what?”

“Now go back out and eat. We’ll be watching. Don’t talk to anyone other than the waitress. Don’t call anyone. We’ll know if you do. One false move, and I will let my sex-starved men have their way with your niece. Clear?”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“What?”

“Say,
clear
. I want to know that you have heard and understood.”

Doran wanted nothing more than to get hold of this guy and beat his brains out. “Clear.”

“Good. Enjoy your breakfast. Take your time. When you’re done, go to your car and we’ll call you. I anticipate you should be fifteen more minutes.”

While waiting for his food, Doran scanned the restaurant, wondering who might be watching. A cook in the back? One of the customers? Someone outside with binoculars? Or was it a bluff? He wanted to take the other cell and call Gino, fill him in on what happened, but…he couldn’t risk it. Not with Jada’s life at stake.

Doran sipped the last of the bad coffee, took a few bites of the pancakes and sausage, and paid the check. As he walked across the lot on the way to his car, the new cell phone rang. “Hello.”

“Get on 45 heading south.”

“Where are we going?”

“Shame on you for asking. Do as I say.”

Doran got in, started the car, and soon was on the entrance ramp for 45 South. He reached down and got the spare cell from his boot and started to dial Gino. Just then the other phone rang again.

“I forgot to tell you. Take the Hardy Toll Road when you get to it. Place this phone on the seat beside you. Turn on the speaker and leave it
on
. I want to hear what is going on.”

***

Central patched in to all of us. “He’s heading south on 45. You need cars in front and behind.”

I patched in. “Whoever’s on Rayford Road, you’re on. He’s only a couple of miles away. One of you get on now, get in front. The other one lag on the feeder until we tell you, then pick up the tail.”

“He could take Hardy,” Central said.

“If he does, the second car will catch him. We have more following. Everyone else is heading that direction.”

***

Doran got on the Hardy Toll Road entrance and kept in the right lane. Within moments, a voice came over the phone’s speaker. “When you see the sign for the Rankin Road exit, pick up the phone.”

“Okay.”

About two miles before the sign, Doran dialed Scott’s number on his second cell phone. He prayed they would be quiet, but just in case, he tucked the phone into his stomach, burying the speaker part.

***

Winthrop’s home phone rang. The tech checked the number and ran to the kitchen. “It’s Doran!”

I hollered. “Quiet! Nobody talk. We got Doran calling in.”

I listened, but nothing was going on. I could hear the sound of the car running, a little outside noise, but no talking. On the computer screen the techs had set me up with, I could see Doran approaching Rankin Road. I got on the horn to the rest of them. “He’s near Rankin. Got that? Doran is at Hardy and Rankin, still heading south.”

***

Doran picked up the phone from the seat. “Okay, I’m here.”

“Take the exit for the airport. Go to terminal C as in Charlie. When you get close, pick up the phone for further instructions.”

Doran took the exit for George Bush Intercontinental Airport, making sure to keep to the speed limit. That way, Gino’s men could get past him and to the terminal beforehand.

***

“Terminal C.” I relayed the message to everyone. “I want everybody we’ve got on the way to terminal C. No, on second thought, leave two cars trailing Doran, just in case. The rest of you get there as fast as you can.”

I hung up and smiled at Connors as I called Delgado.

“What’s up, Gino?”

“I think we got the fuckers, Ribs. They’re going to the airport, and we’ll have ten cars waiting.”

Chapter 38

Motels

D
elgado was on the phone with the team on 45 South. “What have you got, Sanchez? Any dirty rooms?”

“I got
nothing
but
dirty rooms in this place. You should get your ass down here.”

“Maybe you and me—”

“A big no to you and me anywhere, and a
fucking
big no to me and anybody down here.”

“What did the deskman have to say?”

“Only two rooms fit our target, and they both answered the door when I knocked. I didn’t go in, but it didn’t seem like anything wrong. One guy was old, looked homeless, and the other one was a kid in his underwear. From the way he barely cracked the door, I’m sure he was hiding a girl on the bed.”

“And you don’t think—”

“If he was eighteen, I’m a virgin.”

“Don’t you have three kids?”

“Six kids, Delgado. Six hungry kids.”

“Okay, move up the line. No way is a kid is involved in this.” Delgado checked the map. “There’s a motel at—”

“I know where it is. We’ll be there in a couple of minutes. How’s it going on 1960 and Conroe?”

“Same. We got a lot more to go though. We’ll get there.”

“How’s it going with Gino?”

“Don’t know yet, but I gotta go. Call coming in.”

Delgado hung up and switched to the new call—Dustin from the Conroe team. “Anything good?”

“Knocked out three already. Got a few junkies, a couple of misfits, and one suspicious couple who claimed they were married, but whose IDs indicated they were
not
married to each other. How about on your end?”

“Thought we had something at Greenspoint, but it busted. Nothing on 1960.”

“Find them, Ribs. Bust their asses.”

“I’m trying.”

Delgado wasn’t off three minutes before Julie called. “What have you got for me,
chica
?”

“You must have been talking to Sanchez, because I’m no
chica
.”

“But you know I love you. Purple hair and all.”

“Well this
chica
might have something for you. I’ve been calling all the motels, and there
are
a heck of a lot of them.”

“I know. What have you found?”

“One guy said they’ve got a white male in his thirties who checked in with a young black girl yesterday. Said the girl couldn’t have been more than 15 or 16.”

“And?”

“They are still in the room. But the interesting part is that one of the other patrons said they heard screams from there.”

“What! When?”

“Earlier today.”

“You should have called us.”

“Hold onto your horses, Detective. The manager said he gets complaints like this a lot. Most of them are nothing.”

Delgado wanted to scream, but it would do no good. “All right. Give me the details and patch it in to the team.”

“It’s on 45 North, just south of 1960. It’s an America’s Best—”

“Used to be the old Lexington, didn’t it?” Sanchez asked from her end.

“That’s the one.”

“I can be there in five minutes, Ribs. Let me have them. I got a niece same age as this girl. I can’t bear the thought of something like this happening to her.”

“Go for it,
chica
. I’ll meet you there with a team.”

Delgado rounded up the SWAT team. “Off your asses,
amigos
. We’ve got a possible situation.” Delgado filled them in then looked at his watch. “We leave in five minutes,” he said, and called Gino.

“Cataldi.”

“You sound like a man in a rush.”

“I was going to call you. Why did they pick Terminal C? What the fuck are they doing?”

“I can’t think of any one specific reason, but it’s not a bad choice. Parking garage is big, crowded, lot of people and cars.”

“Yeah, but once they’re done, what do they do—exit, pay their ticket and have us pick them up? They
have
to know we’re tailing them.”

“Did they try to give you the slip?”

“Not once. Straight shot from Denny’s to the airport.”

“You there?”

“Almost. I stayed at the house until they committed. I’m five minutes away.”

“And they didn’t take any detours? Change cars? Anything?”

“I’m telling you, Ribs, all they did was give him a new cell phone at the restaurant. From there, he jumped on the freeway and came down Hardy. He should be pulling into C any minute.”

“If that’s the case, you’re fucked.”

“Explain.”

“These gringos aren’t that stupid. They’ve got something planned. We just don’t know it yet.”

“Fuck!”

“What?”

“I wanted you to tell me I was wrong. That we got lucky, and they screwed up.”

“You forgot your history lessons. Hector Delgado don’t lie.”

“That was Davy Crockett, asshole.”

“Same thing. We both had relatives at the Alamo.”

“No,
Davy Crockett
was at the Alamo. You had some tenth cousin of your mother’s friend’s wife’s sister, or some shit like that.”

“Like I said, same thing. Blood is blood.”

Gino laughed. “That’s why I love you. I gotta go. Need to figure out what they’re doing.”

“Me too. We got a potential lead on a motel. The old Lexington.”

“Whew! They’re not spending any of that anticipated ransom on comfort are they?”

Delgado hung up and called to his SWAT team. “We’re ready.”

He climbed into the van with the team. The leader handed him a vest. “Wear it if you’re in on this.”

“Park at the Ramada Inn just north of the motel. We don’t want them to see us.”

“Just us?” the leader of the team asked.

“Sanchez is meeting us. Rest of her team is continuing with the other motels.”

He got on the phone. “Where are you, Sanchez?”

“Thirty seconds.”

“Remember, the Ramada. North side. “We’re two minutes behind you.” Delgado hung up and made another call. “Julie, call the Ramada next to America’s. Tell them we’re coming into the parking lot. We don’t want any noise or issues. Do whatever you have to.”

“Got it,
chico
,” she said.

Delgado laughed. He liked that purple-haired, multi-colored-fingernail hippie girl. The van pulled into the Ramada and swung in front of the building. Three muscle-bound macho men and one wiry, tough-as-boar-tusks woman, exploded from the van, vests on and loaded with more guns and ammo than it took to win the war in Granada.

Delgado looked them over, shaking his head. “I feel inadequate.”

Sanchez stood a few feet away, a smile on her face that made her look like Howdy Doody from the fifties, but better armed. “You’re just recognizing that,” she said. “Rosalee told me—”

Delgado put his hand on a gun. “Remember, Sanchez. Sometimes cops get shot in operations like this.”

The SWAT leader, Lance, came forward with a rigid posture and an even more rigid expression. Delgado assumed he didn’t appreciate the banter. Maybe because he didn’t need it. He got to kill the bad guys. Delgado and his teams usually only saw the victims and their families. They worked their ass off to catch the bad guys, only to see them get released early, or worse, get off. That shit made a person crave a drink at night. Some guys took it further, craving it all the time.

Lance was right, though; it was time for action. Delgado got everyone in close. “Sanchez and I go in first. When we exit the office, move into position. I’ll signal you from the front of the room.”

Sanchez pinched Delgado’s ass as they crossed the street, arm in arm.

“What the hell was that about?” he asked.

“Good luck.”

“You could have just said
buena suerte
.”

She picked up the pace. “Not as much fun.”

Delgado and Sanchez entered the lobby, his badge out before he was halfway across the room. “Detectives Delgado and Sanchez.”

The clerk was a medium-guy—medium height, weight, and hair color. Not pasty white or tan, just medium all the way around.

“I was expecting you,” he said, in a medium-ranged voice. “They’re in room #164.” He reached for the key. “It’s around back.”

Delgado took the key. “Who reported the noise?”

“Two rooms down, #168. The rooms on either side are empty. I don’t know how #168 could have heard noise from there…unless it was really loud.”

Delgado nodded. “Thanks. We’re going there now. Make sure no one bothers us. If anyone questions you, say it’s police business.”

“Don’t worry. I want them out of here. This is normally a quiet place.”

“I’m sure it is,” Delgado said. “Sir, do you think we could borrow a maid’s uniform?” He felt certain Sanchez was glaring at him over the comment, but he didn’t turn to confirm it. When the clerk gave them a uniform, Delgado grabbed Sanchez by the arm, and they walked outside. “You want to be the maid?” he asked.

“I don’t think you’d pass for one,” she said.

“Okay, here’s what you do—”

Sanchez turned to look at him. “I’ve got six kids. I
know
how to be a maid.” She started around the corner without me, then turned and said, “And I know how to speak Spanish too.”

“That’s cruel, Sanchez. I’m reporting you.”

“To which cousin?”

“That’s crueler.”

She changed in the manager’s office then left with Delgado, setting a fast pace to the room. “Cover me,” she said, all humor gone from her tone. Delgado stayed close behind, crouched low.