Vengeance: A Reece Culver Thriller - Book 1 (27 page)

Crystal’s lips quivered and Reece wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but he knew he was getting to her. Then her hand hit exactly what he didn’t want her to find.

“What’s this?” she said, holding his phone up and poking at the buttons. “You fucker, you’ve been sending text messages.”

She cocked her arm and hurled the phone across the room. It hit the wall and he could hear it shatter.

“Crystal,” a voice yelled down the stairs from the kitchen above.

Chapter Eighty-Seven

H
aisley held his
phone to his ear and ran out the front entrance of his hotel.

“I hope you guys block off the airport before they get away.”

“Even if the plane gets airborne, they’ll be able to stop it. Ever since nine eleven the air force has made a habit of scrambling F-16’s to escort planes down,” Detective Hughes said. “I just hope your boy Culver is okay. Whose idea was it to send him to that villa alone?”

“It was his damn fool idea. I tried to stop him, but he insisted,” Haisley said. “Once he gets an idea in his thick head, there’s no stopping him.”

“Okay, Averton, we’ve got eyes on the plane out here at the airport. One of my guys is on the far end of the ramp with binoculars on that Airbus at the east end of the airport. It’s got to be the one we’re after. There are no markings on it other than the tail number. We’ve got a call into the FAA to see who it’s registered to, but we’re also playing this close to our chest so we don’t tip off the FBI.”

“Don’t let that happen. Stop that plane. Hey, I just got a text from Reece. They’re headed to South America.”

“Will do,” Hughes said, ending the call.

Haisley pulled his handheld VHF radio out of his police-issue backpack and listened to the frequency for Eagle Vail airport ground control. A male voice on the radio announced:

“Eagle Vail ground, this is November 768 bravo. We’d like to taxi from hangar six to the ramp.”

“768 bravo, taxi to the west end of the ramp and hold.”

“Eagle Vail ground, 768 bravo taxi to the west end and hold,” the pilot said, reading back the clearance.

“It sounds like Shanks is on the move. I hope Hughes makes it there in time to catch them,” Haisley murmured out loud.

He barreled down Highway 24 and cut sharply onto the gravel road that led to Vinton Blackwell’s villa. After a few hundred yards he slowed his rental car and pulled off to the side. Haisley thought about what to do next and checked his phone for cell reception. Fine specks of snow dotted the windshield of the car and he hoped the plane might have to return to the ramp to de ice, but then thought about who was flying it and doubted that would be the case.

Haisley pulled out his GPS and figured he was still a couple of miles shy of the villa. He continued down the gravel road, hoping that Reece was still in one piece. Driving slowly around a curve, he spotted, a half-mile away, a black Range Rover parked in the driveway behind a bright red Mercedes.

“I guess it’s time to go on in.”

Chapter Eighty-Eight

“P
apa, down here,”
Crystal yelled.

She rolled off of the table and hopped down to the floor. At the same time Vinton Blackwell came down the basement stairs. His face matched those in the photos Reece had seen earlier, with the same green eyes that Crystal had. This was the man who was responsible for his father’s beating and murder. Rage welled up inside him, a hatred more overwhelming than anything he’d ever felt. He wanted to fling himself off the table and strangle Blackwell with his bare hands.

Instead Reece once again stretched his right arm out toward the edge of the pool table. Hearing a new sound, he worked his wrist back and forth, scraping the rope against the underside. He hoped the rough edge of the table would cut through.

Crystal ran to her stepfather with her arms out and hugged him with the same intensity she’d used to hug Reece the night before. It was all too weird. It seemed demented to Reece, and he hoped for his sake he’d gotten through to her.

“We’ll have time for hugs later, Crystal. Let’s put an end to this scum bag, so we can get to the airport,” Blackwell said.

“Don’t you want to tell her what you did with her mother?” Reece blurted out, still hoping to hit home with Crystal.

“She’s going to see her mother later this week, Culver,” Blackwell said, picking up the gun from the pool table. He flipped open the cylinder and studied the number of bullets, then snapped the cylinder closed and pointed the gun at Reece.

“She knows you’re her real father. She knows you killed Owen Roberts to cover your tracks,” Reece said, knowing he might be speaking his last words.

Blackwell held the gun out at him. For no good reason Reece noticed the glossed over film on Blackwell’s left eye. He remembered his father Al describing it to him when he’d visited the hospital after the beating. That clouded green eye looking down at him on the rooftop in East St. Louis just before he’d lost consciousness. Vinton pulled the hammer of the revolver back and squeezed the trigger.

*

At the last second Crystal lunged toward Blackwell, knocking his arm sideways. The hammer of the .38 fell and sent the bullet meant for Reece’s head into the wall. His ears rung from the loud blast, and he watched Crystal struggle with her stepfather, trying to wrest the gun away. Reece moved his arm back and forth, trying to get free.

“What are you doing, woman?” Vinton said in a mean voice.

“Tell me about how you met my mother Tracey at the Rolling Stones concert and you guys ran away,” Crystal said, backing away at last.

Blackwell lowered the gun until it was pointing toward her. While the two were focused on each other, Reece pulled at the loop on his right arm and felt the rope snap under the table.

“Is it true that you got my mom pregnant and then left her on the street?” Crystal screamed. She was hysterical.

“What did he tell you, Crystal? You can’t trust him. He’s one of them,” Vinton yelled, turning back toward Reece with the gun.

“Is it true that I’m your daughter, Papa? You played me. You are just like all the rest.”

Enraged, Blackwell turned back toward his daughter and fired. She grabbed at her stomach and slumped to the floor. Seizing the opportunity, Reece lunged toward the syringe and snatched it in his hand. The pain in his shoulder screamed as he pulled against the ropes. Vinton stared down at his wounded daughter, writhing in pain on the basement floor. Blood oozed into her blouse and stained through the barn coat she wore.

Reece stretched against the ropes with the syringe in his fist and stabbed downward into Blackwell’s neck. The syringe shattered, slicing the web of skin between Reece’s index and middle fingers. Jerking violently, Blackwell wobbled on his feet and turned back toward Reece, pulling the trigger. Reece flinched, but the bullet penetrated the basement wall, missing his head by mere inches.

Stricken by some lethal poison, Blackwell dropped to his knees beside the pool table. Reece rolled back, lying flat, and stared over the side at Blackwell. He was trying to stay low in case another bullet was fired. Blackwell took a final croaking breath and hit the floor face first with a thud.

Reece felt a burning sensation in his index finger. He held his hand up and saw that some of the fluid from the syringe had run down his finger. More drops were dribbling down from the tip of the needle onto his hand. He dropped the syringe instantly and rubbed his hand against the green felt top of the pool table, trying to get the poison off his skin.

Reece felt a wave of nausea and he became lightheaded and flushed. He stared at the ceiling in a daze. He could hear Crystal moaning on the floor. He thought about Blackwell. He’d finally avenged his father’s death, and most likely his mother’s.
I guess it’s all right to die now.

Reece’s vision narrowed and the paint above him looked like it was bubbling—just before the room went dark.

Chapter Eighty-Nine

H
aisley took off
at a sprint, ignoring the pain of his stiff left knee. He had to get to Reece before it was too late. He had his gun out as he ran. He’d heard a gunshot a few seconds earlier on his way to the villa. Adrenaline surged through his tired body and he urged himself to run faster. He heard the roar of an approaching car and turned back to see a Vail police cruiser skidding to a stop behind the black Range Rover. Haisley flashed them his old badge.

At a full run he raised his right leg and smashed it into the front door of the villa. The door swung open, and Haisley crashed into the wall on the opposite side. The cops ran past him.

As he got up off the floor he saw an ambulance coming down the gravel road. He fought to catch his breath, feeling the altitude.

The house was quiet, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Haisley ran up the stairs and went room-to-room. He caught up with one of the policeman, who wheeled around with his gun drawn, and then smiled lowering the weapon when he realized who it was.

“Clear,” the other officer yelled from the room on the opposite side of the stairs.

“This floor is empty,” the officer beside him yelled.

“The basement,” Haisley said, running down the stairs with the second officer following. They found the basement door in the kitchen and started down the stairs. The familiar smell of gunpowder filled Haisley’s nostrils, and he allowed the first officer past with his gun out, hoping to find Reece Culver alive and well.

“Call a second ambulance. It looks like we’ve got three wounded,” the officer yelled, entering the basement.

Haisley found Reece lying on top of the pool table. His eyes were closed and Haisley wondered if they were too late.

The officer behind him squatted down next to Crystal and felt for a pulse.

“This one’s still breathing.”

Chapter Ninety

T
he walls of
the Vail Valley Criminal Center were molded of steel gray stone, and the room had the fresh smell of new construction. Haisley didn’t like that he’d been excluded from the debrief between Detective Hughes and Special Agent Stephen Cox, but he figured Hughes would fill him in on the details.

His thoughts turned to how bad Reece had looked the night before when he’d gone to visit him in the intensive care unit. The doctors were keeping quiet and that bothered him. Haisley felt his phone rattle in the breast pocket of his sports coat. He reached in.

“Averton.” He paused, then said, “Oh, thanks for getting back to me.” He listened to the report and said flatly, “So she’s pulling through. That’s good. When do you expect she’ll be released from the hospital?”

The door to the conference room opened, and Special Agents Cox and Messerman stepped out. Cox gave Haisley a nasty look, but Haisley ignored it as he stood up and walked in past them. The room was filled with a long tan table with sixteen chairs around its perimeter. Detective Hughes and the two policeman Haisley had stormed the villa with seven days earlier sat on one side, and a young woman with a yellow legal pad sat alone on the opposite side.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Haisley said, taking a seat next to the lone woman.

“What’s the latest on Reece Culver?” Detective Hughes asked.

“He was still in a coma last night. I figured I’d swing by and check on him after we’re done here,” Haisley said, sounding morose.

“This is Jennifer Warren, the assistant DA here in Eagle County,” Hughes said. Haisley turned and reached out to shake hands.

“I think we’re okay, Mr. Averton, but we really wish you’d have let the police enter the villa first,” Ms. Warren said.

Haisley listened with a stony face. There was no way he would have waited to find out what happened to the son of his old partner.

“We really need to get Mr. Culver’s statement about what happened. The initial investigation seems to show that Ms. Thomas came to the aid of Mr. Culver and had an altercation with her stepfather, Vinton Blackwell, but without talking to Mr. Culver this is all just speculation.”

“How about Crystal Thomas? How bad are her injuries?” Haisley asked.

“The bullet from Vinton Blackwell’s gun missed all her vital organs. She’s a lucky girl. She’s due to be released from the hospital today, but we’re going to keep an eye on her until we get a statement from Reece Culver. We may be charging her.”

*

The next day Haisley and his wife walked down the hallway of the Vail Valley Medical Center. Haisley had called Mavis after riding with Reece in the ambulance. He’d told her how Reece had almost lost his life stopping the man who had murdered his partner. Mavis had filled him in on the search for Reece’s mother, Helen, and the missing rental car.

Another witness had come forward saying they saw a woman who resembled Helen Culver filling a blue Mazda 6 with gas near Padre Island, Texas. Haisley had made some calls to friends at his old precinct in Tulsa and found out that they were now eighty percent certain that Helen Culver had been rear-ended by a black Range Rover and she had died when the car sank to the bottom of Keystone Lake. The search for her body had been complicated because of heavy spring rains in Tulsa and the fact that the Arkansas River runs through the center of the lake.

Mavis had wanted to know every detail about how Reece had been poisoned with the sodium cyanide from the syringe he’d stabbed into Vinton Blackwell. Haisley had told her that Reece had apparently cut his finger while trying to get loose from the ropes on the pool table, and the chemical had entered his bloodstream through the fresh wound.

“I’m glad you helped Reece figure out where these people were,” Mavis said.

“It wasn’t me that figured anything out. It was all Reece on this one.”

“I wish we had better news for him about his mother,” she said.

“I’m thinking we should hold off on telling him anything about his mom until he’s out of the woods medically.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Poor guy.”

“Mr. Averton?” Haisley heard someone say from behind. A tall brown-haired woman in a long white lab coat and green scrub pants was approaching him. “I’m glad you filled us in on the situation with Mr. Culver’s mother. He didn’t have anyone listed on the next of kin form other than his mother.”

Haisley wondered what she meant by that. “Next of kin?” he said. “Reece was pulling out of it last night.”

“Let me take you into the room. It’s down the hall this way,” the nurse said. Haisley and Mavis followed her to an area that was different from the one Haisley had visited the night before. The hallway was painted a light bird’s egg blue and he thought it looked more like a maternity ward than intensive care. They passed several doors and near the end of the hallway the nurse led them into a well-lit room.

Haisley and his wife followed, eager to see Reece. An older man with a bald head was lying partially reclined in a hospital bed with his right arm in a sling and bandages covering much of his face. The television set was on, and the man in bed was concentrating on
Oprah
. Haisley looked at him and wondered where Reece was.

“Mr. Drumwell, how are you feeling?” the nurse asked, walking over to the side of the man’s bed as the channel on the TV flipped to ESPN.

Haisley looked past him at a second bed with a curtain pulled around it. He saw two sets of legs below the curtain. It looked like a doctor and the nurse were attending to a patient. He wanted to barge in, but thought better of it. Mavis stepped up next to him and patted his arm.

Haisley watched the curtain slide back and could see a patient in the bed, but he couldn’t see the face. An oxygen mask covered the person’s nose. An IV bag hung beside the bed and clear plastic tubes ran toward the patient’s exposed arm.
It looked like a man, but was it Reece?
The skin on his arm was cherry red.

“That should bring him out of it if we’re lucky,” the doctor said, leading the nurse out from behind the curtain. “Keep an eye on his vitals.” The doctor made eye contact with Haisley and seemed shocked to see people in the room. His demeanor changed and he began to smile.

“Is that Reece Culver?” Mavis said.

“Yes, it is. Are you family?” the doctor asked.

“No, but we’re the closest thing he has to family right now,” Haisley said.

Mavis reached into her coat, pulled out a Kleenex, and rubbed her eyes. “Can we see him?”

“Yeah, that should be alright,” the doctor said as the nurse walked to her side. Mavis and Haisley followed her up to Reece’s bed. Haisley looked down at him wondering why his face was bright red with a hint of greenish yellow. His eyes were flickering and he wondered if he was dreaming or suffering. Mavis sobbed and Haisley wondered if it had been a good idea bringing his wife along.

“Let’s take this off,” the nurse said, lifting the oxygen mask from Reece’s face.

“Is it okay if I touch him?” Mavis asked looking sideways at her.

“That’s fine. I’ll leave you alone,” the nurse said as she walked past the curtain and pulled it shut.

Reece’s eyes were still closed, but Haisley thought he saw his lips move. He bent down close to his ear and felt his wife’s hand on his back.

“Culver, are you okay?”

Reece’s eyes opened and he turned his head toward Haisley. “I guess so. I’m not dead yet.”