Rausch & Donlon - Can Be Murder 03 - Writing Can Be Murder (25 page)

Turner Bend

March

C
HIP AND IVER SAT ON A BENCH
in
the police station, where they had been waiting for almost two hours. It was
past four in the morning and all the adrenaline had oozed out of their
endocrine systems. They were tired and cold and feeling like miscreants sitting
outside of the principal’s office. Chief Fredrickson was on the phone in his
office. Iver began to laugh.

“What’s
so funny?” asked Chip.

“We
did it again, partner. Every federal agent in the country has been looking for
Hal for months, and we ran him down. We should be bounty hunters or private
detectives, don’t you think?”

Chip
failed to see the humor in the situation. Strangely he felt depressed. “I
almost wish we hadn’t found him. This is going to be hard on Jane and the kids.
It’s going to be all over the press. There’ll be a trial; he’ll go to jail for
a long time, maybe forever. It would be easier if he had just dropped off the
face of the earth and we never heard from him again.”

“Guess
I hadn’t thought about that, Chip. I was just caught up in the excitement of
the chase. Sorry…you’re right.”

Chief
Fredrickson came out of his office, shaking his head. “You two hot shots better
come into my office. By the way, you look like hell.”

As
they seated themselves in the inner office, the chief grabbed three mugs from
beside the coffeemaker. He pulled a fancy bottle of bourbon tied with a red bow
from his bottom desk drawer. It reminded Chip of a similar situation in
Franco’s office last fall. The chief poured a generous portion in each mug and
passed them around, taking a big swig out of his own mug.

“The
booze was a Christmas present from a grateful citizen of Turners Bend,” he said
by way of explanation. He cleared his throat. “Not for favors granted, in case
that’s what you were thinking.” He replaced the bottle and shut the drawer.

“First
of all, I’ve had calls from Mabel and Jane. I assured your wives you are both
fine and will be home for breakfast. I’ll leave it up to you to give them the
details.” The chief sighed deeply. “I suppose I should read you the riot act,
but Agent Masterson is on her way, so I’ll let her berate you. She’ll do a much
better job of it. I also got a call from Deputy Anderson at Iowa Methodist in
Des Moines. Hal’s in surgery. By the time he’s out of the OR, a federal detail
will be there to take over guarding him. Guess I’ll have to drive over later
this morning and pick up my sidekick. This is huge for Jim, riding in a copter,
guarding a felon. We’ll never hear the end of his storytelling about it. ”

“What
about Mueller?” asked Iver.

“Rod
is on his way to the Omaha office of the FBI with the SWAT team. I’ll let
Masterson tell you all about it. He’ll be charged with harboring a fugitive,
maybe abetting in a crime. Don’t know yet. I’ve known him all my life. He’s a
kook, but I doubt he’s a terrorist.”

The
three sat in silence sipping bourbon until Agent Masterson arrived. She took
off her Kevlar vest and helmet and settled in the desk chair Fredrickson
vacated for her. She drilled her gaze into Chip’s face and then switched to
Iver’s downturned face. “Well, well, well. I don’t know if I should thank you
two or box your ears. You want to start by telling me how you just happened to
be out back of Mueller’s place last night?”

Iver
told her the truth about what he had seen and heard and how he had figured out
what was planned. “What I didn’t know, of course, was that Hal was there.”

“That
doesn’t tell me why you two were there.”

Iver
looked at Chip for support, and Chip hesitated before jumping into the
conversation. “We could say we were out for a joy ride and just happened to be
there.”

“Yes,
I suppose you could say that,” said Masterson. “But, I suspect that would be a
half truth. I’ll just assume you were thrill-seeking and sticking your noses in
something that was none of your darn business. I can’t charge you with
anything, but the government doesn’t look kindly on citizens taking the law
into their own hands. You should have called it in and waited for us to track
down Hal. You know that, right?”

Both
men nodded their heads, like contrite schoolboys, and muttered in unison, “Yes,
Ma’am.”

Agent
Masterson smiled, a rarity for her, and her eyes sparkled. She picked up the
mug on the desk, smelled it and rolled her eyes.

“Now
that’s over, here’s my off-the-record response. Thanks, guys. Nabbing Hal
Swanson the way you did was pretty awesome. Did you know he was on the FBI Most
Wanted list? By the way, Chip, your lead from the UPS driver was spot on,
although it was Swanson not Mueller making bombs. Hal had been hiding out at
Mueller’s for months. He’s the one who had been communicating with Hakim
Dibaba, mainly through Dibaba’s
How to
Make a Bomb
website. According to Mueller, the bomb was meant for you.
Swanson planned to plant it in your car and detonate it with a cell phone. We
believe he had a bomb with him and tossed it during the chase. As soon as it’s
daylight, our bomb squad will go looking for it.”

“So
Mueller’s spilling the beans?” asked Iver.

“Yes,
I guess you missed out on the capture. When he saw the advancing SWAT team, he
caved…actually waved a white dishtowel out the broken window. The minute he
came out, he started to blab about Hal and his bomb-making, claiming his own
innocence, while at the same time protesting our violation of his legal rights
in the Republic of Iowa. I doubt very much we will be able to pin any terrorism
charges on him.”

Chief
Fredrickson chimed in. “Chip, I think we’ll find out Hal is the one who shot at
you in the parking ramp and drove you off the road. Franco and I will be able
to close those cases soon, and your paranoia can cease.”

“Nice
to know I don’t have anyone gunning for me anymore. What’s going to happen to
Hal?”

The
agent answered. “The list of charges against him is a mile long. Federal
agencies will have to line up to charge him. Of course his mental state is in
question, but he’ll probably be incarcerated for a long time after prolonged
trials. It’ll be pretty ugly.”

“What
about Baba? Is he cleared now? He wasn’t involved in bomb-making or terrorism.
The poor guy has been worried sick and terrified something awful was going to
happen to him.”

“I’m
sad to say he will remain on the watch list. His familial relationships and
loyalty to his brother are still problematic. Sorry there’s nothing I can do
about it. I know it’s not fair, but those are the rules.”

The
agent stood, stretched her back and rotated her shoulders. “I believe the Bun
opens at 5:30 a.m. It’s been a long night and I’m starving. Would you gentlemen
care to join me?”

Iver
and Chief Fredrickson consented, but Chip declined. The thought of telling Jane
about the events of the night, especially about Hal, made him lose his
appetite.

Head Shot

Minneapolis,
MN

Early
November

B
EHIND HER, JO HEARD FRISCO
swear
under his breath. His voice forced her brain to reengage and she looked into
John’s eyes, willing herself to look away from the gun in Mazlo’s hand.

She kept picturing John with a bullet in his head.
Stop…you can’t think that way!

When she re-directed her attention to Mazlo, she could
practically see the wheels turning in the adjunct professor’s head. She
fingered the trigger of the Glock in her hand, trying to decide what to do. Jo
saw a trickle of sweat run off of John’s brow and down his cheek.

She pointed the gun at the adjunct professor’s head.
“Put down your weapon, Mazlo. You’ve no place to go. All the exits are blocked.
This will end badly for you. Let him go.”

“No, it won’t. The doctor is my way out. You will call
whoever it is you need to call and get me a helicopter out of here.” Jo saw the
grim determination in Mazlo’s face, and she knew she was looking into the eyes
of a man who no longer had anything left to lose.

She took a deep breath to slow down her heart rate and
lowered her gun a fraction. Indicating that Frisco should do the same, she
forced her voice to be steady. “Mazlo, you know that will take some time.”

She tried not to look at John, tried not to give away
how much his hostage meant to her. “Why don’t you let the doctor go and we can
talk about this? No one has to get hurt.”

Mazlo’s laughter held a particularly nasty edge. “Why
would I trust a fed like you? I’ve seen firsthand the extent of their lies,
their tricks. I was there when they rounded up my old man’s friends and hauled
them off to prison in Wisconsin. Men who just wanted to be left alone to live
their lives. My brothers and I ran like scared rats, following our dad through
the woods. We lived off the land for days, staying out of sight.”

 
“I didn’t know
that. It must have been hard for you.”

 
“Damn straight.
The feds are deceivers.”

Jo tilted her head. “If you think all feds are
deceivers, why did you ask for my help in getting you out of here?”

Mazlo’s grin was broad. “I found a few of the doctor’s
text messages to you on his phone. Looks like you have a special relationship.
I’d call that extra motivation.”

The bile rose in the back of Jo’s throat as she
realized Mazlo held all the cards.

Jo caught a barely perceptible movement behind Mazlo’s
shoulder and saw Riley and the two Minneapolis police officers creep up behind
Mazlo. She knew she had to keep the man’s focus on her, so she tried a new
tactic. “Okay, Mr. Mazlo. You’re obviously in charge here.” She slowly crouched
to the floor and put her gun at her feet, kicking it away from her reach.

The adjunct professor followed her movements with his
eyes. He didn’t seem to be aware of what was going on behind him. She said, “I
just need to pull my phone out to call for the helicopter.”

As she was about to pull her phone out, she saw the
gun belt of MPD officer Canton brush up against a mannequin and it wobbled. He
caught it quickly before it toppled to the floor, but it clattered before he
could set it upright. Mazlo whipped around at the sound of the noise and shot
his gun in Canton’s direction. The bullet struck the officer in the stomach and
he fell to the floor, writhing in pain.

Pushing down her panic, Jo quickly took advantage of
the distraction by reaching out for John’s arm and pulling him toward her, but
Mazlo was quicker. He yanked John back and pointed the gun at his head once
more.

He growled, “Stop right there.” He waved to Riley and
Officer Keck to move in front of him. Once they were in his line of vision, he
said to Jo, “Call the helicopter now or I’ll start shooting bits and pieces off
of the doctor until there is nothing left of him.”

Jo cursed. She could hear Canton moaning on the ground
and knew Mazlo was capable of carrying out his threat. She glanced at John and
saw he had turned pale. Frisco had been right; this had turned into a shit-show
of epic proportions.

Her eyes re-focused on Mazlo. “You win.” She dialed
her boss at the FBI headquarters. After explaining the circumstances, she
requested the helicopter.

She disconnected the call. “The helicopter will be
here in five minutes. They will wait for you on the mall across the street from
Coffman.”

Mazlo nodded. “I’ll be taking Doctor Goodman with me,
just in case the pilot or anyone else decides to be a hero. Just remember
that.”

Jo turned to face Frisco and the others. “Please step
aside and put your weapons down. Let him by; there is no need for anyone else
to get hurt here.”

MPD Officer Keck said, “Special Agent, with all due
respect….”

Jo interrupted him. “At the moment, Mr. Mazlo is in
charge.”

Keck shook his head, and she could see a muscle jump
in his jaw, but he crouched down to set his weapon on the floor. She was
grateful he complied.

The group parted as Mazlo backed out of the store. One hand
gripped John’s arm, dragging him along, the other holding the gun to his head.

Jo watched helplessly as John’s eyes pleaded with her. He said,
“I’ll be fine.” He briefly cut his eyes at Jo’s stomach. “Just remember who’s
at stake here.” She nodded and felt hot tears prickle in her eyes.

She watched Mazlo feel his way to the escalator and back up onto
the step, pulling John with him. When John stumbled, Mazlo yanked him to his
feet, jerking him backwards up the moving staircase. The muzzle of the gun was
pointed at the back of John’s head.

With a last quick look at Jo, John threw his elbow back into
Mazlo’s stomach, causing the man to double-over. Jo heard Frisco shout behind
her as she dashed up the escalator, taking two steps at a time. John wrestled
with Mazlo on the moving stairs, trying to pry the gun out of his hand.

Jo could hear the labored breathing of someone running up the down
escalator adjacent to her. She had almost caught up with Mazlo and John by the
time they reached the top. As Jo reached for Mazlo’s gun, Mazlo’s eyes locked
onto hers and he gave John a vicious shove.

John landed on top of Jo and they tumbled downward together. Jo
felt the metal steps digging into her back and thighs. John landed on top of
her, his knee driving into Jo’s stomach. Jo felt a sharp pain in her
midsection.

Her head bounced off the metal stair and briefly she thought of
the baby. Just before her vision faded, she heard John’s voice calling her
name. Jo struggled to stave off the encroaching darkness, to call out to John,
but suddenly there was nothing but black.

***

John rolled off Jo, flipped open the plastic cover on the
emergency stop and pressed the button. He crouched down over Jo’s unresponsive
body and reached out to check her pulse. When he detected the steady beat of
her heart, he shoved aside his fears, and his years of training kicked in. He
didn’t dare move Jo in case of a neck injury, but gingerly felt for the knot at
the back of Jo’s head. He cursed under his breath and felt a burning desire to
strangle the man who had held the gun to his head a few short moments ago.

He was dimly aware that a tall, blond woman had appeared at his
side and was calling for an ambulance. When she turned toward him, she said,
“I’m Detective Riley Simmons, Frisco’s partner. Help is on the way.” She
paused, staring at him. “Hey, are you okay?”

John realized he was swaying. The shock of the last half hour was
finally catching up to him, and he plopped down on the floor, putting his head
between his knees. He took a couple of deep breaths and once he felt in control
again, he responded, “Yeah. I’m fine.”

He glanced up the escalator. “Where the hell is that ambulance?”
He knew the detective had just called for help, but every second Jo lay
unconscious was an eternity.

Just then, he heard the faint wails of emergency vehicles headed
their way. A few moments later, three groups of EMTs descended the escalator.

One of the EMTs looked at Detective Simmons. “We heard there were
several people down. Where are the gunshot victims?”

Riley pointed off in the direction that John had first heard the
screams. “A campus police officer is down over there, near the Great Hall.”
While one EMT crew rushed off in that direction, she pointed in the other
direction. “We have a MPD officer there, behind that stack of sweatshirts.”

The third crew began to work on Jo. A young, dark-haired woman
knelt down next to Jo. Her eyes quickly assessed the situation. “Tell me what
happened.”

John responded, “The gunman took me hostage up to the top of the
escalator and then pushed me on top of her…”His voice cracked as he recalled
the feeling of tumbling down the moving stairs with Jo taking the brunt of his
fall.

He cleared his throat and finished, “When we fell to the bottom,
she hit her head and was knocked unconscious. Also, you should know she’s
pregnant.”

The EMT nodded and wrapped a brace around Jo’s neck. She and
another EMT then carefully slid Jo onto a board.

Once they had Jo strapped down to the board, the EMT looked at
John. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay, just a little shaky.”

They hoisted Jo up the escalator and John followed. The EMTs
placed Jo on the waiting gurney at the top of the steps and rolled her out to
the ambulance.

John had to step to one side as the other set of EMTs came through
with another gurney, this one with the victim completely covered by a sheet.
John wondered which of the shooting

victims had died and felt queasy when he realized it could have
easily been him or Jo under that sheet.

As John stepped out into the sunshine, he saw Frisco put the man
from the escalator into his vehicle. The detective looked over at Jo and raised
his eyebrows when he spied John. John shrugged. What could he say? He wished he
could tell Frisco Jo would be fine, but at the moment he really didn’t know.

He walked over to the EMTs who were loading Jo into the ambulance.
He turned to the dark-haired EMT. “Remember she’s pregnant. Let them know at
the hospital.”

The EMT nodded and closed the doors. Since the University of
Minnesota’s hospital was only a few blocks away, John ran in that direction,
his long legs covering the campus grounds quickly. A few minutes later, he
entered the emergency room doors and looked around.

Because she had a head injury, John knew Jo would be triaged
immediately. He caught a glimpse of her being wheeled to a bay, an intravenous
line already started by the EMT. Every fiber of his being wanted to be at Jo’s
side, but he knew he needed to follow the proper protocols first. He quickly
answered the check-in questions at the receptionist desk, then raced down the
hall to Jo’s bay.

 
The doctor turned to him.
“Are you a relative?”

John nodded. “I’m her fiancé, John Goodman.” He shook the woman’s
hand.

“I’m Doctor Cooper.” The doctor stopped and stared at John a
moment, her eyes widening. “Wait, I recognize you from your picture from the
paper. You’re the neurosurgeon who saved that kid’s life, aren’t you? His
remarkable recovery is all anyone’s talked about lately. ”

John felt color rising in his face. “We were lucky.” He looked
down at Jo. “What are her vitals?”

Doctor Cooper looked down at the chart. “Her heart rate is a
little high, 70. Her blood pressure is 130 over 95, also on the high side. No
vomiting, which is a good sign. We’ve already done a blood draw to check her
CBC, Chem 7 and a CMP.”

John knew she was referring to Jo’s complete blood count, as well
as a test for her electrolytes, glucose and complete metabolic panel. They would
also check for blood coagulation, to make sure she wouldn’t bleed out. He said,
“Has she had any eye response to light?”

The doctor nodded. “Yes, her accommodation is normal, and both
pupils are the same size. By all indications, she has suffered a minor
concussion, but we’re scheduled to take her for a MRI in a moment. I was told
she was pregnant, so we’re doing that in place of a CT scan.”

John nodded. “Do you need any other information from me?”

“What type of meds is she on? Any prenatal vitamins?”

“Nothing currently; she was scheduled for her first OB/GYN
appointment tomorrow.”

Doctor Cooper tilted her head. “How far along is she?”

John felt sheepish, not really knowing the answer. “I’m not sure.
Two, three months maybe? She says she’s not very regular.” He paused, and then
continued, “Will she be seen by an OB/GYN soon?”

“Yes, we’ve already contacted the doctor on consult from labor and
delivery. He’s waiting on us to wrap up the MRI. I’ll go check on that now.”

After the doctor stepped out, John studied Jo’s face. Bruises and
scrapes from the tumble down the escalator were already beginning to appear on
her face. John felt a red-hot anger rise within him. He shook his head, trying
to clear away the desire to hit something.