Dead Man's Hand (3 page)

Calvin
had to collect enough to take her with him when he got out.

He was well paid for his gruesome work and he spent only the bare minimum to cover basic expenses and bills.
And to cover
those special purchases spread out over the last three years that were his investment for the future. His cheap, rundown apartment and dilapidated workshop, as sparsely furnished as a prison cell, were all ways to reduce costs.

He stared at the ceiling and thought about how he
’
d had to force himself to do the job on Pierce. How much longer could he take it?

He shook his head against the pillow.
I just want a life.

T
he
Percocet
sank in deepe
r
and he drifted
into unconsciousness. He fell asleep with his leg hanging over the edge of the bed, dreaming about one more chance.

Chapter 2

“
Dale, we need to talk.
”

Dale Dayton bounded down the staircase still wet from his shower. He
thought he
knew what his wife wanted, but he
’
d give anything to avoid the discussion.

“
I
’
ll be back in a minute,
”
he said, kissing Betty on the cheek.

He noticed the coffee pot half-filled and realized his wife must have been up early drinking coffee and waiting for him. He poured a cup
and went outside to retrieve the morning paper, delaying facing her a moment more.

“
Dale
,
”
she hollered from the doorway.

He
had thought a baby might help
“
the problem
,
”
though he
’
d always known his job was the real issue.

But Betty
kn
e
w what she was getting into marrying a cop,
did
n
’
t she
?

Dale had always been a cop and always would be. And he was a damn good one at that. What he found more difficult was being a good husband and father
.

When he came back into the house, she was waiting. Without
making
eye contact with her, he picked up Sammie and gave him a hug and kiss before settling his son back into his highchair.

Betty
’
s mouth turned down in a pout.
“
I
’
m serious. This is important.
”

“
Okay, okay. What is it?
”

“
I think that―
”

His beeper went off.

“
Don
’
t take it
,
”
Betty said, her voice rising.

Ignoring her, he checked the number.
“
I have to, honey.
”

He
picked up the phone and dialed the number
.
He listened for a long moment
and
then hung up. Grabbing his jacket an
d holster, he threw Betty an apologetic look.
“
Sorry, I gotta go. Jimmy
’
s on his way. I promise we
’
ll talk tonight when I get home. Love you.
”

He kissed her on the cheek and
ran down the hall
.

“
I won
’
t be here when you get back
.
”

His
backbone
stiffened.
Her words stopped him
, frozen, his hand still on
the door
knob.
Hi
s insides tightened.
He
turned around. Betty
stood r
ight behind him
now
, an intense gaze in her eyes
.
The ambush was premeditated
and
even
though he w
as a gifted investigator,
he
had never seen it coming.

“
What do you mean?
”

“
You know wh
at I mean, Dale. T
his is
n
’
t
coming out of the blue.
”

A car horn honked
.

He
glanced
toward the door
and
then back to his wife
.
“
Damn it
. Let
’
s talk about this tonight.
”

She slid
a white envelope out of
her housecoat pocket.
“
Her
e. Like usual, I knew you wouldn
’
t have
time
to talk. So I took the libert
y of writing it all down
.
”
She handed him the letter.

“
Don
’
t do this, Betty.
”

“
This is a long time coming
. We both know it.
It
’
s all there
.
”
She pointe
d to the letter in hi
s hand.
“
Read it whenever you want. But you
’
re not changing my mind.
”

“
What about Sammie?
”

“
He
’
s coming with me.
”

A
gloomy
silence ensued. He
hoped the silence would tempt
her to say more
, but
she didn
’
t
. His throat was dry,
as if
he
’
d just drunk a glass of desert sand.
U
nsure of his next move
, h
e knew w
hat he should do, but
d
idn
’
t hav
e the words
.

Betty
’
s
anger
was warranted
,
but he was caught off guard nonethe
less.
She
was right. This was overdue.

He
to
ok her
hand.
“
Please, Betty.
Just stay. I
’
ll make it right.
”
His
voice lacked conviction
and he knew it
.

The horn honked again.

Betty sighed.
“
Just go
. I know that
’
s where you
’
d rather be anyway.
”

He
moved in a trance
-like state
.

“
What the hell took so long?
”
his long-
time partner asked as Dale
slid into the passenger seat.
“
Did Betty want to have one of
her
talks
again?
”

Dale still didn
’
t say anything.
Grief consumed him.
He felt the bulge in his
inside
breast pocket, where Betty
’
s note was lo
dged
.

“
What the hell
’
s wrong with you?
”

“
Just drive, Jimmy.
”

His partner
pulled the car out of the driveway.

“
W
hat do we have?
”
Dale asked
, still dazed
.

“
David called it in—a possible match to the Black Orchid case. The boys have him in a silver
-
and
-
black
‘
69 Camaro on Highway 15.
”

Dale felt the adrenaline
start
pumping.
A high-speed chase. Just what I need.

The Black Orchid
c
ase involved six pr
ostitutes killed within a three-
week span. The killer had brutalized and sexually assaulted his victims
.
A
s of now, the only real lead was a local tattoo parlor owner.

Dale unholstered his
weapon and checked the clip.

“
How do you like your new Kimber Custom Stainless?
”
Jimmy asked.

“
I love it.
Bette
r than that old revolver you still carry
.
”

Jimmy smiled.
“
Smith & Wesson, baby.
But that
’
s my alternate duty weapon. I have a semi-automatic for my primary handgun, just like the department says we
have
to. But the S&W
is the
gun I chose as a recruit over thirty years ago
. I trust that
gun with my life, literally. It hasn
’
t let me down yet.
”

“
That
’
s true of everything until the first time it lets you down.
”
Dale thought of the talk he
’
d just had with Betty.
“
This isn
’
t the Wild West, Jimmy. I know they allow us to choose our own firearm, as long as they
’
re standard factory production, but you need to upgrade, man. An allowance is issued each year to replace our equipment.
”

“
Hey, it
’
s been approved by the Firearms Training and Tactical Unit
and qualified quarterly
.
”

Dale laughed at his old-school partner.

“
There they are,
”
Jimmy said, pointing to a row of bla
ck and whites following
a Camaro.
“
Hang on.
”

With the red
-
and
-
blue dome lights rotating on top of the cruiser, he pressed the gas
pedal
to the floor and they edged to the front of the pack, avoiding the dense morning traffic. Dale saw that the
s
heriff and FBI had vehicles in the chase too.

Without warning
the Camaro veered off the Las Vegas freeway, taking West Flamingo Avenue and heading toward Spring Valley.

Jimmy cursed.
“
Where
’
s he going?
”

“
Turn here. We can cut him off at Palms Casino.
”

They took a sharp left and sped down Hotel Rio Drive, breaking off from the pack
, the sound of sirens fading
.

Dale rubbed his face, trying to recall the shortcut.
“
Go here
.
”
He pointed.

“
Got it!
”

Dale picked up the car radio.
“
Angela, I need the 592 blocked off at South Valley Boulevard heading east.
”

As the hotel came into view, Jimmy had the accelerator to the floor.
“
Come on, you bastard,
”
he
muttered.

Dale grabbed the dashboard.
“
L
et
’
s not play chicken with this guy.
”

T
he Camaro came to a screeching halt.

Jimmy braked and brought the cruiser face-to-face with the Camaro. The three black and whites
had
parked behind it, barricading the highway.

Dale let out a grunt.
“
We got him. Let
’
s go.
”

The smell of burnt rubber filled the dry Nevada air.

Dale
drew his gun
and
aimed at the Camaro
’
s driver
-
side
window
as he
approached
with caution
. He could see the shad
ow of a man through the
tinted windshield.

The engine revved.

“
Get out of the car,
”
he ordered.
“
We have you surrounded.
”

Without warning, the Camaro took off, heading straight toward them.