Chapter 21

January 23nd, 2007, Monday

Emily De Jesus, Federal Prosecutor in Charge of the Western District

“Listen, Miz De Haysoos,” Mike Vaughn, Homeland Security Director of the Western District said, “two goddamn terrorist attacks in the capitol of Texas in a two month span is ridiculous. You have a goddamn problem and your law enforcement ain’t doing shit about ‘em so far!”

“First, get your fists off my desk, Mr. Vaughn. Second, you spit when you speak so back up. Third, consider breath mints. Bad coffee, breakfast tacos, and cigarettes aren’t pleasant to smell, and you’re blowing that stench all over my office.”

While he was still spluttering, Emily continued.

“While I might, might, agree the recent assassination of Nick Philouma and the murder of his Federal Marshal detail are acts of terror, the earlier incident was a case of rival gangs where one side had watched far too many action movies. They acquired C-4 or some variant thereof...”

“It was...”

“Or some variant thereof, and do not interrupt me when I’m speaking, and got over-ambitious in using it. It only qualifies as a terrorist incident by a very narrow and Homeland-Defense-serving definition.”

“Now see here...”

“Shut up, Vaughn. You’re in here swinging your dick in my face to no good purpose. The Governor convinced the President, and the President gave your agency their marching orders. These matters are being left in the hands of local and State law enforcement, and the FBI.”

Vaughn smirked.

“Seems you don’t know everything about our marching orders, De Haysoos,” he replied. “One more incident, one more use of explosives of any kind in this city or the surrounding area, and the Governor and the President have agreed on a whole-hog declaration of martial law for Waterloo and the surrounding area. If anything happens after that ... well ... use your imagination.”

Emily sat stunned, her lips moving while she remained silent.

“And what is in our jurisdiction, what you cannot say ‘Boo’ about, is us taking into custody anyone we suspect of terrorist affiliation. As of this afternoon, that means anyone associated with a gang or criminal enterprise, in the area, could be seized. We even suspect someone of being friendly with anyone on that list, we might take them, too.”

“So, you’re taking all our troublemakers...”

“Oh no, not all. Just the hardcore members and those we have a reason to suspect.”

“You interrupted me again. And putting them ... where?”

“My, my, Miz De Haysoos, that is an interesting question, isn’t it? You ponder on that one to your heart’s content.”

“I and my people are expected to solve a gang bombing and an assassination/murders without most of our likely suspects to question...”

“Your problem, not mine. We’ll figure out who’s behind this, and if you and yours can’t ... well, too goddamn bad.”

“Get the fuck out of my office, Vaughn,” she said, all the weariness in her hitting at once.

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled, and left.

Her friend, Nick Philouma, was dead. She couldn’t change it, and now Emily wouldn’t, in all probability, even be able to find out who was responsible.

Homicide Detective Evelyn Davis

“Connor, you got anything for me?”

Dr. Connor Wells, Chief Coroner of Travis County, sighed.

“No, Detective. I invited you to my office for their sheer joy of your company, which remains negligible.”

He took a sip of his coffee and made a disgusted face.

“The autopsy of Nathan McAllister has been completed, and thank you, by the way, for requesting I be the one to perform it. I always need more nightmare fuel.”

“You’re welcome, Connor. So what’s the verdict?”

“Nathan McAllister died from...” he consulted his notes, “I’m paraphrasing, you understand. Multiple deep and ragged incisions, probably from claws, blunt force trauma, and three bites that removed an estimated seventy-five pounds or so of flesh from the victim.”

“You can’t narrow it down any?”

“No. Our best estimate is from the beginning of the attack to his death ... maybe a minute. Too narrow a window to put the attacks in order, although I’d bet a bottle of Glenfiddich it was left claw rake, right paw coming down on top of his head – virtually at the same time, then bites. One of the bites was ante-mortem, the other two post-mortem, which is why I’d bet the way I would.”

“So, he was killed by a...”

“By a prehistoric cave bear would be my best guess. We don’t grow bears that big anymore.”

“You’re shitting me!”

“No. But as that’s clearly impossible, and as there was nothing left behind by the perps at all, which leads me to believe carefully manufactured weapons, rather than nature, I’m thinking three assailants. One for a ... claw-club, if you will. Another for a heavily weighted padded club to explain the head trauma, and a third to manipulate the mock-up jaws – which like everything else would have to have a lot of power driving them.”

“That’s almost as insane as your first verdict, Connor.”

“Then I’ll throw this in for free, Detective. To match the wounds from the two paws, they’d need be swung at a height of about ten-and-a-half feet.”

“Like the shoulders of a cave bear, the pivot points, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Any chance you’re wrong?”

“Detective, you didn’t request me because I’m an idiot, like that bumbling retard in Williamson County. I checked everything three times, then had Dooley double check me.”

“Dooley?”

“New hire, very talented coroner, worked in the Harris County coroners office for a decade. She’s good, and I’m thinking I’ll be grooming her to be my replacement.”

“Bullshit, you’ll never retire, Connor.”

“Bring me in on a few more cases like this, Detective, and you’ll be choking on my RV’s dust as I light out for parts unknown.”

Donna

“You know,” she said, lying on a towel on the beach, “this is my first time on a beach. I could get used to this.”

“Mom and I went to Padre once, I think I was eight. Can’t remember it impressing me much,” Jason replied from the towel next to her. “Unlike here, the water was dirty ... grey-ish brown ... it just looked nasty.”

“Cabana-Lizzy!” Donna called. “Oh, Cabana-Concubine ... fetch us some snacks, won’t you?”

“Yes, Milady. Anything to drink?”

Donna leaned her head over, looking to Jason.

“Drink?”

“Yeah, just a plain Sprite if you would.”

“A Sprite, and a Dr. Pepper for me, Cabana-Lizzy.”

Leaning back, she said, “Any reason you’re avoiding the alcohol, my love?”

“Not in the mood. Now, we get back to the suite, I’m gonna get baked out of my brain, but now that we’re finally here ... well, if I started drinking I’m not sure how soon I’d stop, and I am not going to insult this place and our people by having a hang-over ... or by throwing up all over the place.”

“Taking care of your Mom may not have been fun, Master, but it’s helped you turn into a wise young man,” Mohini said from where she was massaging Yan.

“Thank you, sexy mother-in-law,” Jason replied.

“So, what about after you get baked,” Donna asked.

“Oh, I figure a day or two and I’ll start drinking in moderation,” Jason replied, adjusting his sunglasses.

Donna looked over and saw his erection was at half-mast.

“One drawback to safely visiting the beach,” she said. “While I’d love to play with that in any of my holes, not when it’s coated in suntan lotion.”

“All the reason I need to head indoors,” Jason said, getting to his feet. “I’m taking Cabana-Lizzy and grabbing a shower. If you wish to join us...”

Donna was up and moving at once.

She stood in the shower, letting Lizzy wash her most thoroughly.

To Jason, who was relaxing in his towel nearby, she said, “So I’m not sensing much sorrow from you about leaving the beach...”

“No ... I enjoyed it and all, but the whole ‘getting greased up in lotion’ kinda sucked. Much easier for me to enjoy the beauty from under an umbrella on the balcony.”

“What about swimming?” she asked, extending an arm for Lizzy to wash.

“There’s a pool here with no possible threats from sea life and where I won’t have to be greased up like a pig at a county fair.”

“You know, under certain circumstances that whole ‘greasy’ thing is a lot of fun.”

“Yes, love, but not this instance. I got no problem y’all want to go play on the beach, and I might too - in the evenings when the sun’s gone down. Otherwise it’s umbrellas and the pool for me.”

“I’d imagine an evening on the beach would have its charms...” she said, giving her hair a final rinse while Lizzy prepared Donna’s towel.

“Yeah,” Jason said. “Don’t need suntan lotion for tiki torches.”

“Milady,” Nocturnia said, sticking her head in the master suite, “I hate to interrupt, but it’s time.”

Donna sighed and disentangled herself from Jason and Lizzy.

“Sending Shelley on her way?” Jason asked.

“Yeah. You want to come?” Donna replied.

“No. Far as I’m concerned, I’ve seen the last of that slut.”

“Good attitude,” Donna said. “Lizzy, keep him occupied.”

“Yes, Milady.”

Donna shrugged on a robe and followed Nocturnia out into the hall, stopping to speak with one of the staff.

“Have some juice, fruit, and crackers – lots of crunchy crackers - sent to the master suite.”

“Yes, Milady.”

Nocturnia waited until they were without an audience.

“You really going to let this whore go, Milady?”

“I don’t want to ... but we gave her the choice and she made it.”

“Fuck choice. In my opinion you should have cut her throat and dumped her over the side.”

“I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it, but we’re not the only ones to consider,” Donna replied. “Besides, the decision’s been made.”

“Milady ... what if no one knows besides a very small group?”

“What do you mean?”

“The Mi Lei is heading to Honolulu for repairs and a thorough re-provisioning. A quick diversion into international waters and the whore disappears forever.”

“Someone on the Mi Lei would know, probably several someones.”

“Fair point. But ... not to push matters, but you send Parker and I, Shelley’s corpse in that big gear bag of his, we’ll be the only ones who know. It’s water-proof.”

Donna closed her eyes and shook her head.

“Get behind me, Satan,” she murmured.