New Growth (Spook Hills Trilogy Book 2) (23 page)

Around 7:15 on Saturday morning just before a cloudy
daybreak, Steve heard the door click shut when Mathew went out to walk with
Lenny as he made his morning rounds.
 
Steve strode
out on the roof deck with his
coffee, staring first to the west and turning to scan the Spook Hills
land.
  
In the dim
light
he
saw the two men tramping up the knoll towards the tree house, coffee mugs in
hand.
 
Once there Steve expected them to
survey the area before walking down to Casper’s Cottage.
 

When they arrived at the tree house and climbed the stairs,
he waved an arm high in the pale morning light as their eyes raked the property
from their vantage point.
 
At that
instant
their body language
changed.
 
T
hey
froze and then eased out their weapons, Lenny drawing a little faster.
 
Mathew grabbed the binoculars from around his
neck to peer down at the nearby dense salal.
 

Steve yanked his
roscoe
out of the holster.
 
He watched the two
men creep down the steps and walk crouched over to the undergrowth.
 
A dull
thwump
resounded.
 
Mathew’s left leg wobbled.
 
Lenny dove on top of him, spreading himself
out to protect him from any more bullets.
 
He spun
over to
his side, sprang
up and fired in the direction of the sniper.
 
Steve began shooting over their heads.
 
Two more
thwumps
and Lenny crumpled from bullets to
his thigh and arm.
 

Mathew squirmed out from under Lenny and pounded out a few
bullets.
 
Lenny went to
worm
his way up into a shooting position, but
Mathew pushed him back down.
 
Steve ran
through the house to the garage, yelling for Ivy to call 911.
 
He jumped in the Suburban, backed out,
floored it and fishtailed up to the two men, cursing that the night FBI agents
failed to come running.
 
Maybe they were
on the other side of the vineyard or even over at Rick’s.

When the Suburban slid sideways to a stop, Mathew motioned
Steve to the right.
 
Ivy raced up in her
SUV.
 
She pointed the nose of the vehicle
at the Suburban, giving them shelter on three sides.
 
She crawled over to the passenger door and
got out with her cell phone in one hand and two blankets and a big first aid
kit in the other.
 
Steve seized the
supplies and
did a rapid triage.

Lenny was swearing and trying to get up.
 
Steve firmly pushed him back down.
 
“Stay there.
 
Got to stop this bleeding.”

“I want to get that son of a bitch.”

“You couldn’t even crawl after him,” Steve said, ripping off
his pullover and throwing it over Lenny’s chest.
 
He then tore off his undershirt and twisted
it into a tourniquet above Lenny’s leg wound, aiming to squelch the blood
spouting into a pool on the grass.
 

The bleeding from the leg slowed to a trickle and Steve
moved on to assess the bullet hole in his arm.
 
It too was bleeding freely.

Using some gauze pads, Steve put pressure on the
gouge
in Lenny’s arm with one hand, using the
other hand to make calls.
 
He kept an eye
on Ivy as she edged around Mathew.
 
The
shot penetrated Mathew’s left thigh – the same one suffering a shattered femur
two years before.
 
Even though the slug
made a tidy entry and exit, having new damage next to an old injury could not
be good.
 
The shooter must have guessed
they wore bulletproof vests and went for their exposed limbs.
 
He probably intended to go for their heads to
finish them off after they fell down.
 
Steve shuddered at the thought.

Three police cars screeched up.
 
An ambulance turned into the driveway and
bounced its way up the grassy road with Ivy giving them directions by cell
phone.
 
One officer stood guard while the
rest went off to join the
manhunt
.
 
A second emergency unit approached.
 

The first team of paramedics took over Lenny, who though
fading still cursed at them.
 
The second
pair ran up to examine Mathew.
 

When the night agents huffed up from their last round on the
other side of the acreage.
 
Steve sent
them to check out the underbrush halfway down the slope.
 

The head of the local FBI office pulled up next, jogged
over, shook Steve’s hand and said, “I live up in Newberg – my head guy called
me.
 
Your men going to recover?”

“Think so.
 
Lenny here
got
hit the worst, but he should heal up
with sound medical attention and time.
 
Mathew’s is only a gash in the muscle.
 
They both blasted back after they went down.”

“Squad car ran down a suspicious vehicle speeding near
Highway 240 heading northwest.
 
Judging
by the guns and ammo in the car, we believe him to be your sniper.
 
We’ll need you to give us an update before we
start questioning him.
 
You think he
operated alone here?”

“Guess so,” Steve replied.
 
“Must be a felon we arrested.
 
Even the same guys as last year, although the
modus operandi
is different,” Steve said.
 
“I’ll follow the ambulances to Providence
Hospital.
 
After my guys are tended to, I
can swing by the office.
 
That work for
you?”

“Apprehended gunman isn’t going anywhere.
 
Enough to hold
him
.
 
Any new cases you folks
are in on?”

Peering around the medic cleaning up his injury, Mathew
said. “Kidnapping in San Francisco last June.
 
I worked with a CARD team out of the office there where I did the
money/drop and pickup, plus the interface with the parents who are related to
our neighbors.”

“They apprehend the perp?”

“Mob boss operating in California,” Steve said.
 
“He and his thugs are pending trial for,
among other things, collecting a drug and gambling type debt incurred by a
relative of the father.
 
The gang runs
the upscale angles including fancy houses of prostitution, bucket-shops for
betting on stock performance, drugs of choice and so on.
 
I’ll give you the particulars when I’m
downtown.”

Steve searched around on his phone.
 
“Sending you the contact info on the San Fran
senior agent for the case.”

Rick drove the next car up the track with Susannah and Sassy
squeezed in next to him.
 
Right behind
him Fred and Federico sped up.
 
Steve
shook his head, first thinking they needed a severe reprimand, then realizing
friends did just this -- they came over in times of trouble to provide support.

“Mueller in on this stuff?” the agent asked, “he informed
our Chief?”

Steve bobbed his head down once in confirmation and said,
“He helped open doors for us.”

The paramedics slid Lenny on a stretcher to take him to the
boxy ambulance.

“Our guys are getting loaded up,” Steve continued.
 
“Let me fill you in later.
 
We want to hustle up to Portland.
 
We need protection on them at St. Vincent’s.”

He glanced over at Ivy standing in her robe, a fuzzy fleece
garment damp around the hem from the dewy meadow.
 
“Ivy, drive down and get ready to go.
 
We need to make sure Mathew and Lenny receive
quick
medical attention.”

Steve turned to Fred and Federico and said, “Would you take
your car and the Suburban down and put them in the garage?
 
Could you then stay at the house until Ivy
and I return?
 
We’ll be a few hours.
 
Raid the refrigerator, turn on the TV,
whatever.
 
Just don’t go wandering around
outside.”

He walked over to Rick and Sassy and said, “We’re driving to
the hospital.
 
Cops picked up the
gunman.
 
Even so, the feds will be
crawling around here for the rest of the morning.
 
Best if you go home and stay inside with the
alarm system on and the doors locked.
 
Rick keep your weapon handy just in case.
 
I’ll get an agent staked out at your house
pronto.
 
Callie coming
back
today?”

“Around ten this evening,” Rick said.

“Tell her after she arrives.
 
No sense worrying her before her flight back.
 
Mathew will be
okay
.
 
The
laceration is clean from the bullet he
took.”

“Callie will want to see him,” Sassy said.

“Will they really be okay?
 
Mathew and Lenny?”
 
Susannah
asked from where she stood
clinging
to Rick’s and Sassy’s hands.
 
Steve squatted down to look her in the
eye.
 
“Mathew will heal quickly.
 
It is no more than a scrape.
 
You’ll have to watch over him when he’s back
home.”

“And Lenny?” Susannah asked, her voice tinny with worry.

Steve took her hand and said, “He should be okay after the
doctors patch him up in the hospital.
 
It
is my job to see he gets the best doctors and care.
 
Do you trust me to see that he pulls
through?”

Susannah threw her arms around Steve’s neck.
 
“You helped save me.
 
So did Mathew and Lenny.
 
You have to make Lenny get all better.”

“I’ll let you know if they admit him or if he comes back
home,” Steve said as Susannah let go of her grip.

The orange door of the second ambulance closed.
 
Steve walked down to the house, pausing to watch
the parade of emergency trucks and cars head down to the road.
 
Ivy managed
a
rapid
change into jeans and came out to her SUV with a clean fleece top
for him draped over her arm, two mugs of coffee and a paper bag full of muffins
still warm from her early morning baking.

She started the car and said. “Different this time.
 
No black Ford Cruiser full of hired attackers
carrying assault weapons and explosives.”

“Makes me wonder . . .” Steve replied.

“Not the Fuentes?”

“Perhaps.
 
On the other hand,
the cousins might do things
their own way, which means they could have hired a lone assassin.
 
Might be from the gang in California or
another criminal.
 
Let’s hurry up to the
admittance room for a status update on Mathew and Lenny.
 
Afterward
I need to stop by the FBI office to talk with them.”

Steve dug into the sack and started eating one of the earthy
concoctions layered with goodies like shredded carrots, apples, coconut,
raisins
and walnuts.
 
He remembered Ivy taking them out of the oven
when he ran through the kitchen on his way up to the site of the attack.

“You better call the Chief too,” Ivy said.

“Did on my walk down,” he said between bites.
 
“Got voicemail.
 
Left a message.
 
I hate having those guys hurt.
 
Glad Fred or his dad weren’t out on patrol.”

“They are
dedicated.
 
Right here in
case
they
might be needed.”

Steve took a hefty swallow of coffee, pulled a second muffin
out of the bag and bit into it.

“Are you going to share those?”
 
Ivy asked in a teasing tone.
 
“I thought we might save a couple for Lenny
and Mathew too.”

He peered over at her with a guilty expression, passed a
muffin to her and peeked in the bag.
 
Five remained.
 
He always ate two
of the extra-large muffins.
 
Ivy was
razzing him.
 
Even in a dead-serious
situation, she kept a sense of humor.

Steve grunted.
 
“Time
to put our full attention on this for any number of reasons, not the least of
which is having two good men gunned down.
 
Let’s hope they recuperate without too much
long-term
impairment.”

“They will,” Ivy said.
 
“You helped Mathew
mend
last year
with your attentive ministrations.
 
It
revealed a tender side of you that I hadn’t anticipated.”

“And I never thought I possessed.”

The next day a group congregated around the big table at
Spook Hills where Steve planned to bring them up-to-date after visiting Lenny
that morning.
 
Ivy put out a thermos of
hot chocolate and a large platter of chicken, bacon and Havarti triple-deckers,
along with pickles,
chips
and raspberry
bars.
 

“First, you can all relax about Mathew,” Steve said, nodding
across the table to him.
 
“His injury
should be quick to heal, even though he will have physical therapy ahead of
him.”

Mathew managed a grim smile.

“And Lenny?” Rick asked
 

“Lenny worries me.
 
He
is haggard and drugged out,” Steve said.
 
“
He
came through surgery yesterday
and he should be home in a few days.
 
We'll put him downstairs in the second guest room and like Mathew, he
can use the little elevator to come upstairs when he is able.
 
Lenny’s wounds are
deep.
 
H
e lost a lot of
blood.
 
However, he's
tough.
 
H
e'll
pull through with our help."

"Thank heaven," Mathew said.
 
"Glad he’s not worse."

"When Ivy and I were exiting the hospital this morning,
the Chief called,” Steve said.
 
“A gunman
hit the senior agent on Susannah’s kidnapping during his walk to the FBI
offices
today
.
 
He’s in critical condition.
 
If he survives, he’ll undergo surgery.
 
The gunman made a clean getaway."

"Damn, he’s a good man,” Mathew said.
 
“As I recall, he’s married with two teenage
kids.
 
At least his assault provides
focus to our list of possibilities.
 
Must
be the mob boss from Susannah's case who is orchestrating these retaliation
moves.”

"Protection has been increased for Lenny, here at Spook
Hills and at Lindquist Estates."

"I thought the FBI put the gang boss in jail,"
Callie said.

"They
did.
 
He
remains there,” Mathew said.
 
“Someone he trusts must have stepped up to
run things."

Steve paused to let the news sink in before saying, “Mathew
and Lenny were likely the
targets,
but
anyone associated with Susannah’s rescue could be at risk.
 
With Lenny laid up, I’m going to supplement
what the FBI office can do.
 
If any of
you want to leave until this is over, we can set up a secure location."

"My place is with you," Ivy said, jutting her chin
out in her determined way.

Everyone else in the room nodded.
 

“Agree with you on adding those retired agents,” Mathew
said.
 
“They can bunk down in Lenny’s
trailer if needed and do surveillance on both properties.
 
Horrible about that CARD team leader in San
Francisco.”

“Feeling like a snow goose in a pond waiting for the next
round of hunters to show up,” Rick said.
 
“If the mob boss in California is behind the attack, can’t the feds
neutralize him?
 
He’s in custody pending
trial, isn’t he?
 
How is he organizing
all this?”

Mathew exchanged a glance with Steve.
 
“Steve could talk to the Bureau about opening
negotiations with the criminal’s attorneys.”

“Like what can you propose to make his hired guns back off?”
Rick asked.

“We can draw from
a number of
points in a negotiation,” Steve said in
a steady
tone, even though his eyes became a dark
gray
as if a thunderstorm brewed inside his head.
 
“Like the mob boss stays out of solitary confinement if he calls off the
hunt.
 
Another point of leverage may be
to drop any possible actions against his wife.
 
If she signed their annual returns, she
could
be detained for tax evasion at a minimum.
 
The FBI will not let him walk, but we might be able to increase or ease
his discomfort.
 
His middle son was
arrested too.
 
Perhaps certain charges
against him could be mitigated.”

The group was silent as they mulled over what Steve said.

“I hate this type of situation,” he continued.
 
“Criminals should pay for what they did.
 
Conversely
this will be the smart tactic if it keeps us from further endangerment.”

Rick nodded reluctantly.
 
“Agreed, however much it sticks in my craw to give that bastard any form
of leniency.”

Steve waited a moment and then said, “One of us should be on
the ground to guide the negotiation.”

“I’ll go,” Mathew said, his voice firm.

“Mathew!
 
You’re
injured,” Callie said in horror.
 
“You
did way more than you should with getting Susannah back and now you’ve been
shot.”

Susannah stood up and scrunched herself between the chairs to
stand next to Mathew, taking up his hand protectively.

When Steve went to volunteer, Ivy put her hand on his
arm.
 
He glanced over at her and at
Mathew.
 

“What do you want me to do?” he asked instead.

“Become even more active on the search for Cruze and
Julio.
 
I want whatever they are up to
resolved as well.
 
The Bureau needs to
put you in charge.
 
Call the Chief and
kick up a fuss.
 
I want a life here
without crazed gunmen after us.”

“On it,” Steve said.

“Callie, Susannah, I’ve been down this path before with
gunshot wounds.
 
I understand the rehab
process and I can limp along quite well.
 
One thing – Callie, will you take me out to dinner tonight, like you
suggested before this happened?” Mathew asked.

“I’ll pick you up at six,” said Callie.
 

Susannah smiled over at him.
 
“Date night for Mommy and Mathew!”

“And my little pixie, do you have a photo of yourself for my
wallet?” he said, turning towards Susannah.

She blushed and hid her face against his arm, but she nodded
and whispered, “Yes.”

“Now we need to make John Henry aware of what’s going
on.
 
He might be vulnerable as well,”
said Mathew

“Callie, you better communicate through our attorney,” Rick
said.
 
“Let’s make the call together.”

Callie sat up straighter and spoke with
a determined
edge in her speech.
 
“You can listen in.
 
I will make the call. I must take control my
life, even though your support is always appreciated.”

After their cozy dinner that night, Callie pulled into a
parking space on Twenty-Third Street in uptown Portland, feeling as awkward as
an inexperienced teenager.
 
While they
dined, she talked about her time in Sedona, although shyness kept her from
telling Mathew what she wanted to say.
 
Even
though his wound bothered him and she needed to take him home, she had to push
forward while she still had the confidence engendered by her spiritual retreat.

“After I’m back,” he said, swiveling to face her and wincing
a little as the weight moved on to his left leg, “let’s send Ivy and Steve out
for a night and we’ll cook together again.”

She smiled at him.
 
“Like a couple of teenagers wanting time alone.”

“Teens don’t grapple with all our problems.”

“Some do.
 
Mathew, how
do I say what I need to say?”

She ducked her head down and sat in silence for a moment
before saying.
 
“I want to know you
better, but . . .”

“Is this still about John Henry?” Mathew asked.

“No.
 
I’m embarrassed
being forward.
 
Do you want a
relationship with me?”

He gathered her in his arms and said, “I’m a little wounded,
Callie.
 
Nonetheless, I am as much attracted
to you as ever.”

When he kissed her, the kiss deepened to leave her with no
doubt of his attraction for her staying at least as
strong
as before.
 
A
tingle
foretelling a deep, passionate love
thrilled through her.
 
Her body began
responding,
and Mathew mumbled a curse when he
pulled away.

The Paul McCartney’s song “Baby I’m Amazed” started playing
on the radio, filling the silence between them.

“Dance with me?” he asked and opened the passenger door.

“Here?
 
In the rain?”

“A mere drizzle, mizzling I think the English call it.”
Mathew struggled out of the car, leaning his cane against her Subaru and
leaving the door open to permit the music to drift out into the night air.

Laughing and shaking her head, Callie turned the car off,
making sure the tune played on and went to join him.
 
While they might not be up to any fancy
moves, they could glide around the pavement.
 
Another couple walked by, stared at them, chuckled and snuggled together
as they walked away.
 
A passing car
hooted the horn.
 
An older couple out
walking their dog stopped, tied the dog up and started dancing too.

Mathew pushed back to gaze into her eyes and then his lips
brushed her cheek.
 
As the music ended, a
police car cruising by pulled over.
 
The
other couple quickly untied their dog and resumed their walk.
 
Callie and Mathew stood together, turning to
the policeman when he came over.
 

“How are you?”
 
Mathew
said, holding out his hand.

The cop frowned at him, took his hand and asked, “Do I know
you?”

“You responded
to
a
call back in June 2013 on
a shooting
at
Council Crest.
 
Remember, one intruder
dead and the others crashed their car in
a fiery
wreck after a car chase?”

“Oh yeah.
 
You were
one of the FBI bigwigs, right?” asked the cop.

“Worked for the Bureau anyway,” Mathew said.

“You caught those perps?”

“About a year
ago,
”
Mathew said, as he reached over to grab his cane and propped himself up with
it.

“What’s with the leg?” the cop asked.

“We own a farm out in Dundee.
 
Sniper took potshots at us over the weekend.”

“And you’re out doing a jig tonight?”

“Callie took me to
dinner,
and I wanted to dance with her.
 
I’m
heading to San Francisco tomorrow to work with the FBI down there.”

“You FBI vigilantes?”

“We
consult
when we
are pulled back into cases.
 
Can you
recommend any good local people for serious security work? Even though the FBI
is protecting us, the office here is stretched thin.”

“With Christmas on the way, I’d take extra hours.
 
A couple of other fellows on the force might
be interested too.”

Mathew fished out his wallet and gave him a card.
 
“Call this number.
 
My partner Steve or his wife Ivy may answer –
you remember them?”

“He the big guy?”

“Sure is.
 
He
’s doing the scheduling.
 
I’ll alert him that you might call.
 
Are we in any trouble for waltzing on the
sidewalk?”

“Wanted to verify your level of sobriety.
 
Have a good evening,” the cop said and turned
to walk back to
the
squad car.

“Hey Officer, what’s your name?” Mathew said.

“Nick Brandish.
 
Yours?”

“Mathew Heylen and this is Callie Lindquist.”

Callie walked back to the driver side marveling at the
conversation. Once seated, she said, “Only you.”

“Only me, what?”

“Only you would be acquainted with the police officer and
offer him a job.”

“We’re running low on agents who can fly to Oregon.”
 

She started the car, put on her seatbelt and smiled.
 

“Thank you,” she said.
 
When the words came out in a soft tone, they surprised her by being
audible at all.
 

“For what?”

“For putting magic in my life.
 
The whole scene will live in my mind,
glistening with raindrops.
 
I will
remember the sweetness of
dancing with you, the
charm of
having the other couple join us and even to the exchange with
the policeman.
 
Sometimes with you I feel
this cannot be real but a clip from a movie.”

“I’m learning from Steve,” he said.
 
“Before Ivy, he wasn’t much of a
romantic.
 
She brings out his softer
side.
 
He may do small things to delight
her like picking a bunch of wildflowers or larger ones like building the tree
house with an
aerie
bed for sleepovers.”

Callie smiled as she drove to the corner and turned north on
Burnside.
 
In her memory, this night
would be wrapped in pale blue satin to hold close during the upcoming days with
Mathew away.