Faye Kellerman - Blindman’s Bluff

T’s arm was in an awkward position. To break free, he would have had to wrench a socket. “Are you fucking insane?”

“No, I just don’t want to get shot.”

“Then don’t sneak up on a man, for Chrissakes! Let go of my arm or I’ll throw your fucking ass in jail.”

“Get out of the vehicle and we can talk about it.”

“I can’t do nothin’ because you’re holding on to my arm.”

Decker eased him out of the car and let go of T’s arm. Being almost a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier, it was clear who had the advantage. As the saying went, size mattered. A moment later, Brubeck was at his side. “You okay, sir?”

“Is he okay?” T was shaking his arm up and down. “Jackass nearly broke my wrist. What the fuck is your problem?”

“I’m not armed,” Decker said. “I like a level playing field.”

“Why the fuck would I shoot you?” T’s eyes were daggers. He was still shaking out his wrist. “I should throw your ass in jail.” He suddenly noticed Brubeck. “Willy, how could you let him do that to me?”

“Sorry, T, but he’s my boss.”

“He’s crazy!”

“I don’t deny that, T, but I got to work with him.”

Decker took out his ID, but T swatted it to the ground. “Why the fuck did you sneak up on me… nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“I identified myself.”

“And that was supposed to impress me?”

“I’m sorry, Sheriff,” Decker said.

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

Decker suppressed a smile but T caught it. “Your supervisor will hear from me.”

“Why are you here?” Decker asked him.

“I live here, idiot!”

“I don’t mean here in general, I mean at the Mendez house. You knew I was going to interview the families. Is it just coincidence that you paid them a visit a half hour after I called you?”

For the first time, T didn’t curse him out. His eyes darted back toward the house, then at Decker’s face. “Just get the fuck out of my jurisdiction before I bring you up on assault charges.”

“Are you going to do that before or after I bring you up on tampering-with-justice charges? Or maybe the charges should actually be harboring a fugitive?”

“Fuck off.” Again, his eyes involuntarily went to the door. “You’re insane. I’m not harboring anyone.”

“There’s an ’02 Toyota Corolla that looks suspiciously like Rondo Martin’s car. How long is it going to take me to check the VIN number?” When T didn’t answer, Decker said, “If you’ve been giving Rondo Martin a place to crash because you feel some kind of loyalty, hey, I’ll turn a blind eye. All I want is Rondo Martin, and you’ve got to help me bring him to justice.”

“Don’t mess yourself up for him, T,” Brubeck said. “Let’s do it the easy way.”

The sheriff shook his head. “It isn’t what you think. I ain’t hiding no killer.” He flapped his wrist up and down. “Shit, that smarts!”

“I’m really sorry about your arm. I’ll pay for any of your doctor bills-”

“I don’t need no doctor. I’m no fucking wussy.”

“We need to go inside, Sheriff.”

“You don’t understand a rat’s ass.”

“So explain it to me.”

T said, “I dropped my keys in my car. On the ring is the lock to the gun rack. Take down the shotgun if you want. I trust you won’t use it on me.”

“I apologize for sneaking up on you.” Decker held out his hand.

After a few seconds, T shook it. “Give me a minute, then I’ll come back outside.” He nodded to Brubeck. “It still don’t make him any less of a jackass.” He stomped back.

Decker blew out air. “I didn’t handle that optimally.”

“No, you didn’t,” Brubeck said. “I didn’t want to say nothing, but what the fuck did you do that for? Why didn’t we just let him drive away and then go inside?”

“And let Rondo Martin mow us down? Maybe we were walking into a trap.”

“Then we still could be walking into a trap.”

Decker said, “Wait in T’s Suburban, Willy. I’ll call for you when it’s safe.”

“I’m not letting you go in alone,” Brubeck said.

“I’m giving you an order.”

“You’re crazy.”

“We’ve already established that. If you hear shots firing, get the hell out of here. That’s an order, too.”

Willy shook his head. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

LIKE T HAD said, it wasn’t what Decker thought.

Rondo Martin lay atop a twin mattress placed on a wood/ dirt floor, his pale face bathed in sweat, his torso enveloped in miles of bandages. The dressing seemed fresh, but something underneath was oozing, darkening spots from white to ash. The room stank with a fetid odor-infection mixed with antiseptic. Martin’s eyes were probably blue but dulled with illness, gray and sunken with deep circles giving him the look of a raccoon. His long face was enveloped in gray stubble quickly turning to a beard. His hair was pewter and greasy.

Ana Mendez was on his left, wiping his face with a damp washcloth. Paco Albanez sat on his right, attempting to feed him some soup. Martin winced as he pursed his lips, sucking hot liquid into his throat. His eyes went from his nursemaids to Decker.

Decker’s own gaze volleyed between Paco and Ana. Because he hadn’t seen them together, he hadn’t realized how much they looked alike. Father-daughter? Uncle-niece? There were also two other women in the room and who they were was anyone’s guess.

Bottles of medicine were everywhere, mostly antibiotics and painkillers. The labels said Pet Time. It was far easier to access needed drugs for Fido than it was trying to get prescriptions from a licensed physician. Rondo Martin was going to need a lot more than canine Cipro and a pet Vicodin derivative if he had hopes of recovery.

Decker said, “He needs to go to the hospital.”

“You don’t think I’ve tried?” T said.

Martin’s eyes fluttered. “You find Joe Pine yet?”

Ana Mendez said the name José Pinon and then spat at the floor.

“No,” Decker told him. “He’s still missing.”

“Then I’m not going nowhere. He’s gunning for me.” Willy Brubeck walked in with the rifle. His eyes swept across the room and then onto Decker’s face.

To Willy, Decker said, “Rondo just told me Joe Pine is gunning for him.”

“Looked me in the eye and pulled the trigger,” Martin said.

Decker said, “Then you need to be somewhere safe. If I found you, he’ll find you.”

T said, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him.”

Ana talked in Spanish. “Where were the police when the Kaffeys were killed? Where were the police when my Rondo was shot full of holes?”

T said, “You understand that?”

“Yeah.” Decker took out a cell phone. “I’m calling 911.”

T put his hand over the keypad. “It’s quicker if we take him in the truck. An ambulance will take about a half hour to get here.”

“Not going nowhere,” Martin said. “I’ll die here.”

“That’s going to happen unless you take care of those wounds” Brubeck said, “Is Joe the only person you recognized?”

“The only one I remember…” Martin winced in pain.

“He’s got to get to a hospital,” Decker reiterated.

T nodded, and the women began to gather blankets for the Suburban. Ana insisted on staying next to Martin. “Who has the keys?”

Brubeck tossed them to T, who gave them to one of the ladies. “Let’s get you better, Rondo.”

“You put me in a hospital…I’m dead…I saw too much.”

“What did you see?” Decker asked.

“At least four of ’em…maybe more.”

“And you didn’t recognize any of the others?”