Chapter 37
The overcast sky finally came through with its threat and rained hard over Sycamore. Maxim and Diego stood under the concrete roof of the outdoor train station and could do nothing as the visibility diminished. Finally, a white SUV with sheriff's office badging pulled into the parking lot.
"You can come along," said Maxim to Diego as they waited, "but I want you to hold back. This is a police matter."
The cocky outlaw smiled. "And the police would be nowhere without my help. Besides," he said, hefting his Benelli over his shoulder, "you might need the firepower."
"I don't," said the detective, suddenly stern. "You remember why you haven't carried a gun since last year, don't you?"
The memory was wet like blood on Diego's fingers. He didn't answer the rhetorical question.
"You allowed your firearm to be taken from your person. As a result of that mishap, a good man was shot and killed with it."
"Those were isolated incidents—"
"We confiscated that weapon and it'll be tied up in the legal system for years, and although it's your legal right, I'm disappointed you've replaced it."
Diego lowered the shotgun to his side and turned away from the detective. Maxim could tell his words burned. Diego meant well, but it was only a matter of time before his amateur antics got him hurt.
"Besides," said Maxim, giving the biker a conciliatory smile, "I thought Kayda told you bullets wouldn't be effective out there."
The biker grinded his jaw and remained silent.
The Coconino County SUV parked beside them. Maxim traded another glance with the biker before barging through the rain and into the back of the vehicle. He shut the door and wicked the water from his short hair. A deputy was driving and another sat in the back with him. Detective David Harper bent around from the passenger seat to consult with Maxim.
"So what do we have?"
Maxim shrugged. "Just what I mentioned on the phone. We believe Red is still at Echo Canyon but backed off at your request."
David peered through his window at the biker, who'd stayed under the cover of the platform. "You're still working with a civilian, I see."
"I called the sheriff's office, didn't I? I can't help it if he contacted me first. You said I could assist on the case and we're all here, so let's get moving."
David Harper faced Maxim again. "Shouldn't he lead us to the crime scene first?"
Maxim hissed. "I thought I asked you to bring two teams so we could do that in parallel. We have enough reasonable doubt to pick up and interview a drifter before he moves on. Let's not waste any time."
The Coconino detective thought about it for a second and acquiesced. He pointed a thumb at the driver. "This is Deputy Garza. You met her at the campgrounds. Next to you is Renteria."
Maxim nodded at both of them.
David Harper faced forward again and slid his window down halfway. He beckoned Diego with a jerk of his head. The biker fitted on his gold helmet and jumped into the rain.
"I don't need a ride," he told Detective Harper. The biker pointed to his Triumph Scrambler next to the train platform. "I'll be right behind you."
"No you won't," declared David. "I have another unit inbound. You're to wait here and ride with them to the crime scene you discovered."
"Not until after we deal with—"
The biker's words were cut off as Detective Harper looked away and shut his power window.
Maxim leaned forward. "I told him he could come."
"I'm sure you did," he answered, "but we do things differently than in Sanctuary." David lifted his hand and pointed down the tracks. "Let's move."
Garza lurched the vehicle forward and exited the lot before joining the access road along the tracks. Maxim grimaced as he watched Diego's form disappear in the rear window. Eventually, the access road turned off and Garza navigated over the dirt path that led to Echo Canyon.
Between bumps, Harper clocked Maxim in the rear view mirror. "You've previously interviewed the suspect. Is that right?"
"Yes. He was just an old man complaining about kids looting his property."
"The government's property, you mean."
Maxim clenched his jaw. "I was speaking about his possessions. I should've arrested him when I had the chance, but we didn't have anything on him. But a boy's kilt that was seen in his possession has now been paired with a dead body."
"Was seen by
you
?" asked Harper.
"Yes," Maxim lied. He needed to keep the investigative procedure legitimate from start to end. He only hoped it wouldn't bite him in the ass.
Garza cocked her head. "What's an old hermit doing with child's clothes?"
Maxim nodded. "He said it belonged to his dead son, except there's no record of him having a son. Really, there aren't enough records to confirm or deny much. I haven't gotten anywhere with Scotland. So we don't know if it's the same kilt or how it got there, but it's a link."
Harper was still unconvinced. "What if the children stole it?"
"Maybe they did, but why? And they matched it to a child's skeleton. It could be a ruse, but if it gets us in that RV then it's worth it. We're either chasing our tails or Hazel's in there. We need to be sure."
Detective Harper had no rejoinder. Already they had allowed Red too much leeway. If Hazel Cunningham was under their noses all this time and something happened to her as a result of the delay, both departments would feel the heat. But Maxim left the politics for the marshal, and whatever he thought of David, he didn't believe the man would disregard the life of a child.
As Garza parked the vehicle just before the entrance to the clearing, Maxim knew that within minutes they would have Red in custody and get a look inside his motor home. He just hoped the other detective was taking this seriously. At least, he noted, they were all wearing their bulletproof vests.
Chapter 38
"I want to go in soft," yelled Detective Harper over the rain. It was still difficult to hear the words. The four officers marched towards the path to the clearing named Echo Canyon. "This is my initial visit, so we treat him as a witness first. Keep your gun holstered and stay at my back as a show of force."
Maxim scowled. Detective Harper had to do things his way. As the investigative lead, it was his right—Maxim just hated the idea of starting over. Still, what did it hurt? Red was no threat to them. Four men against a senior weren't even odds.
Before they moved into the woods, Maxim took one last look down the tracks. If Diego had followed them, the poor visibility prevented a confirmation. He wasn't sure if the outlaw not being present made him more or less nervous. It was what it was, he figured, and continued ahead.
Maxim tensed as the RV came into view. Red's makeshift furniture was still scattered about. Dark smoke rose from the metal barrel—signs that a fire had gone out with the rain. For Red, it was just another day.
As they approached, the deputies maneuvered carefully around the dead trees. It was a disquieting scene. Creepy. As if only death was allowed to reside here. Maxim again examined the strange metal pole spiked into the ground. Black iron, if Diego was to be believed. For protection.
David Harper put up his hand as the large window on the side of the RV slid open. Red stood above the four of them, sneering. He appeared paler than before. His red hair was grayer, but it could just have been the lack of lighting.
"What do you want?" he demanded as coarsely as he appeared.
"I'm Detective Harper with the Coconino County Sheriff's Office. We need to ask you a few questions."
"I won't come out," answered Red. "It's raining. I'm an old man, you know."
Maxim shielded his eyes from the water to get a better look at him. First and foremost, they needed to make sure he wasn't a threat.
David Harper nodded. "I noticed both those things," he said with a pleased smile. "How about we talk inside?"
"No. You don't have the right. Come back later." The old man suddenly shut the window, its blackout tint concealing him.
Maxim stepped to Harper's side. "We need to go in hot," he urged. "If the girl's in there, we can't give him time with her."
Harper shook his head and said something, but Maxim couldn't hear through the rain.
"What?" he yelled.
Harper spoke more forcefully. "I said we're not SWAT. This isn't a hostage situation. Not yet. We just need to isolate him in a one-on-one scenario to neutralize him. We can do that with conversation."
Even though they spoke loudly, Maxim knew it was impossible for Red to hear them in the rainstorm. "Conversation? He's a danger right this second." Maxim turned to the deputies. "We need to stay clear of the windows. We can't see inside but he can peek out. If he has a weapon, we're sitting ducks."
Deputy Renteria took several steps away from the RV.
David didn't argue with the logic. "You two back away and take flanking positions. Garza, you do the same on the other side while you watch my back." The detective waved his hand to make his point clear, and Garza followed him around the back of the RV. Renteria backed away some more and put his hand to his holster. Maxim nodded to him before approaching the front cab.
The front windows weren't tinted and Maxim could clearly see inside when he hopped onto the step. The cab was empty, as before, littered with water bottles. The curtain to the living space was drawn closed. They still didn't have eyes on Red.
The vehicle vibrated and Maxim realized Harper was knocking. The beating of the rain against the RV drowned out everything else. Maxim quickly jumped back to the mud and circled to the far side. David stood by the side door. Garza was at his back, moving away to form a perimeter as Renteria had.
"Mr. Munro," announced Harper calmly. "Could you please open the door? This is a minor matter that can be handled quickly. I don't even need to come inside." The man leaned forward and strained to listen for a reply. As far as Maxim could tell, there was no answer. Harper banged loudly on the door again.
Maxim cursed. The storm was making it more difficult to effect an arrest than he'd imagined. It gave the outdoors an unexpected oppressive quality. Besides the noise, visibility was drastically falling. The Echo Canyon clearing was fairly small before the forest took over; Garza had backed up to the edge of the space and Maxim could barely see her.
Harper reached for the door and pulled the handle. Surprisingly, it fell open.
"Mr. Munro?"
Nothing about this was good. Red was going to resist. Maxim could feel it. The detective wondered if the old man would simply attempt to drive away, but so far the cab was empty. Then Maxim wondered, if the side door was open, maybe the cab was unlocked too. Harper hadn't given the order to go in yet, and probably wouldn't, but what if Maxim just peeked in?
Maxim Dwyer stepped closer to the cab door and reached for the handle.
Movement in the trees caught his eye. Behind Garza. It was—
"Watch out!" Maxim yelled.
Red wasn't in the RV at all. Somehow, he had snuck outside. He must have used the rain and their temporary indecision to his advantage. As soon as the window had shut, he escaped unnoticed and set up an ambush. Now, he emerged from the tree cover and, with two enclosed hands, clunked Garza on the back of the head. She immediately dropped to the ground.
Maxim brushed his jacket aside and closed his hand around the grip of his Glock 22. As the weapon came out, Red charged back to his motor home with incredible speed.
Detective Harper was caught off guard. He released the door and turned to see the large man lumbering his way.
Maxim pointed his gun but Red was already too close. The wrinkled man with the leg brace was surprisingly agile. The distance to his target covered, Red slammed Harper between his shoulder and the RV. The detective resisted and reached for his belt, but Red pounded his head against the vehicle.
Maxim couldn't get a safe bead on him without putting Harper in the path of his shot.
"Stand down!" commanded Maxim. Red grabbed his now docile victim and used him as a body shield, arm around his neck. Detective Harper was now a hostage.
The detective was semi-conscious, barely able to stand. Maxim wanted to check Garza's status and see where Renteria was, but he couldn't take his eyes off the threat.
"Let him go, Red."
The man gnashed his unusually large teeth, wet with something more than rain. Since Maxim was at the front end of the vehicle, Red pulled his victim to the back.
It didn't make sense. Red had essentially escaped. There was no reason to come back and attack four armed police officers. Not unless he wanted something in the vehicle. Maxim's aim followed Red but the rain blurred his vision.
"Don't do anything permanent," he warned. "You don't want to mess with a cop. Not in this town."
The old man yanked Harper behind the RV.
Maxim cursed. Garza was still down but there was no time for her. Renteria should have been assisting. He was on the other side of the RV. With the noise, it was possible he didn't even know there was a situation yet. Maxim called out but his voice sounded like an echo against the deluge. Instead, he pointed his Glock straight up in the air and squeezed off two rounds as he ran around the front cab.
Renteria had heard the shots. He stood alert, both hands around his pistol, facing Red. The old man scrunched his gnarled body behind Harper well. The deputy was unwilling to take the shot, and Red slowly advanced on him.
"Back away!" ordered Maxim. The last thing he needed was for another uniform to get too close.
The old man jerked at Maxim's voice. Harper, who must have been pretending to be more dazed than he was, took the momentary advantage to elbow Red in the stomach. Red's arm fell away for a brief moment. Harper spun away from his captor and raised his own weapon.
But Red, like a cat with a toy, pounced on the detective with unnerving grace. Harper fired a shot but the old man banged his hand away. Red smothered Harper's weapon with a massive fist and kneed the detective in his exposed side. Both men still held the pistol, but it was clear who was in control. Harper's arm swung in Maxim's direction. The weapon discharged.
Bullets pierced the cab with hollow clunks. Maxim dove behind the bumper. The shots kept coming and Maxim crawled through the mud to the other side of the RV.
The firing stopped, but another burst took its place. Renteria's weapon. On the ground, Maxim checked under the vehicle to see if he had a clear line of sight to the shootout, but Red's furniture blocked the way. Then Maxim noticed his gun and right hand were submerged in a puddle. He pulled his firearm up, wiped the weapon, and cleared the round.
This was an awful time for a gun jam.
A stifled yell barely rose above the cacophony, but Maxim couldn't tell who it was. He kicked himself up and dashed around the back of the RV this time, vowing to take a quick shot if he had it.
Rounding the corner, he found Detective David Harper lying over a dead log as if he'd been thrown from the melee. Renteria was sprawled close to his original position.
Red was nowhere in sight.
Maxim circled the vehicle to expand his cone of vision. He'd just discovered firsthand how fast Red was, but he couldn't have made it to the tree line. The dead logs didn't seem large enough for the old man to hide behind either. As Maxim scanned the field, he noticed a round object a few yards from the wounded officers.
Maxim grimaced in disgust. Somehow, Renteria's head had been completely severed.
Damn it. Maxim was the only one left to fight. The detective considered running for the county SUV to call for backup but wasn't sure he'd be able to make it.
Still trying to locate Red, Maxim crouched to check the underside of the motor home again. It was clear. Only police officers littered the wasteland of Echo Canyon. Red was gone.
So was the metal pole that had been staked into the ground.
That was it—what Renteria had succumbed to. Red was using his crutch as a close-range weapon. And somehow he was faster than a bullet.
As soon as Maxim realized that, he spun around and saw the old man lunging from the roof of the RV, iron pike in both hands over his head. The detective fell backwards to the ground as the bar crushed the makeshift table beside him. The stack of pallets splintered beneath the overwhelming force.
The Glock released two rounds before the pole was swinging his way again. Maxim rolled away in the mud. The heavy iron should have been cumbersome but Red waved it with ease. It smashed the ground then swung upward and to the side in smooth sweeps. The assault almost caught Maxim but he managed to lunge behind Red's fire pit. The metal barrel clanged loudly as the black iron slammed into it. The blow left a solid dent.
Again, Maxim raised his weapon and fired. The round clearly impacted the center of Red's chest, below the neck. Before Maxim could pull the trigger again, the old man kicked his metal leg forward into the fire pit. The barrel trucked right into Maxim's body and flung him backwards in a shower of embers and ash.
Maxim landed hard. His elbow struck something solid and he dropped his firearm. He kicked the barrel away and scrambled for his weapon. Without it, he knew, he was dead. Watchful for the blow that never came, he recovered his weapon and spun on the ground.
Red was gone again.
"How does he do that?"
The detective lurched to his feet and raised his Glock. Red was coming back for him—he just didn't know from where. Maxim checked his surroundings and saw a blurry figure coming from the tracks. How did Red get over there? Maxim raised his gun.
No. It surprised him when he realized the man was Diego. On second thought, it wasn't surprising the biker had ignored Harper's command. Diego held a shotgun against his shoulder, pointed at the motor home. So that's why Red had backed off.
The large vehicle's engine rumbled. It was a lazy sound, but ominous nonetheless. The headlights flared on and the RV turned towards them—the only direction of escape.
Maxim emptied his magazine into the windshield of the impending vehicle. He couldn't see through the haze, but he figured Red had ducked because the RV still bore down on them. A large blast tore through the top of the windshield and the roof. Diego was firing now too.
Maxim sidestepped the motor home and ran alongside it, meeting up with Diego, who did the same. The ground was rough in the Canyon and the vehicle had to avoid the fallen trees, but it was about to outgain them.
"Give me that!" said Maxim, snatching the Benelli from the biker's hands without asking. As the RV hopped onto the smoother ground near the tracks, Maxim took aim at the vehicle. He didn't have time for careful aim, but he needed to keep his shot wide of the living space. If there was a little girl inside, he didn't want her caught in the crossfire.
As the trigger eased back, the powerful 12-gauge butted Maxim's shoulder back and reminded him of the pain in his elbow. Sparks joined the sound of a tire explosion, and the RV continued barreling wildly towards the train tracks.
Both men chased the vehicle as it pulled further from them. Red attempted to turn it to the side but the steering was shot. The heavy truck rammed into the metal rails and skipped into the air, tumbling down awkwardly on its front end. The momentum of the RV propelled it ahead anyhow.
Right into the trees on the other side of the tracks.
"He crashed!" yelled Maxim, running ahead. He was beat, but the adrenaline would not let him slow. He hopped over the tracks and approached the vehicle from the left side, next to the blown out tire. Maxim raised the shotgun to the window, but the cab was empty. The passenger door on the other side was open.