GOTU - A Robin Marlette Novel (11 page)

For sure, Walton would be somewhat loose until he got control of the money. Criminals' greed is a police officer's friend. Robin believed Walton couldn't control his greed for five million dollars…especially, when the money would buy the other thing Walton wanted - power. The combination of these two things was the key to making Newman's contact successful.

NINE

Cathy Marlette raised her eyes from her psychology book and looked at her boyfriend, Andy Jackson. He focused on an engineering book, immersed in mathematical calculations on a complicated problem Cathy didn't even want to understand. They occupied a study room in the U of A library. Cathy reflected on how she enjoyed the quiet and the closeness she felt with Andy as they worked toward their common goal: graduation and marriage.

She returned her attention to her psychology text book, but couldn't maintain concentration. Her mind wandered back to when she and Andy first met. Cathy remembered her dad announced they were going on a picnic at Apache Lake with another family. Seventeen at the time, a family picnic did not rank as one of her top ideas of a great time. Her dad mentioned the other family included an eighteen-year-old boy, but Cathy figured the boy was probably a nerd or worse.

The other family, the Jacksons, owned a ski boat. The boy turned out to be Andy, and Cathy found him handsome and easy to talk to. When he took off his shirt to ski, Cathy fell in love. Andy stood tall, muscular, and tan. He combed his sandy blond hair straight back, making his deep blue eyes more noticeable. His ready smile accentuated strong facial features. He was an outstanding water skier, which completed Cathy's infatuation.

They spent the rest of the afternoon with Andy patiently teaching Cathy how to water ski. She learned he had just finished his first year at the U of A school of engineering, and he really liked the campus. On that day she decided she wanted to go the U of A.

Cathy and Andy started going together the following weekend. That was two years ago now. In that time, Cathy had come to love Andy deeply and passionately. He treated her like a princess, and pledged his life to her. He showed his love for her in so many ways, she sometimes felt she was living inside a romance novel.

Andy put down his pencil, leaned back in his chair, and looked at his girlfriend.

“Hi, beautiful,” he said softly.

“Oh, you're back from the world of numbers,” Cathy teased.

“Is that a hint that study time is over?”

“It's a hint that I'm hungry and want attention.”

“Well, I'm the guy who can take care of both problems.”

“I know,” Cathy replied, her eyes softening.

Andy leaned forward and spoke in a whisper. “Cathy, you have the sexiest eyes in the world.”

“Let's get out of here, Andy. I'm hungry and horny and we can't take care of either one in this place and honey, if you continue to grin like that, the world will know our secrets.”

The couple gathered their books and headed out of the library. They walked to the parking lot to Andy's car, a 1964 red Jaguar XKE he had restored. His pride in his car radiated as he treated it with great care. Only Cathy had permission to drive the Jaguar and not very often. They got into the car and Andy started it up. He smiled with satisfaction at the sound of the perfectly tuned engine.

The couple ate dinner at La Indianita restaurant on 4th Avenue. Cathy liked it because they served good vegetarian food. Andy liked it because they served giant portions. As they ate, they engaged in a lively conversation with Mama Gonzales, the owner of the restaurant. She liked Cathy and Andy, and since both spoke fluent Spanish, she felt more comfortable talking with them in her native language.

The couple finished their dinner and said goodbye to Mama. They then headed to Andy's apartment. Andy parked and they both worked to get the car cover on the car. They then walked up the stairs and into the apartment.

Hector Rubio sucked the last smoke he could out of his cigarette as he watched the policemen's children enter the apartment. Juan's information turned out to be correct—the children of policemen often ate at the Indianita. Hector recognized the Jaguar there and watched it. He easily followed them to the apartment. Juan would be pleased with his work.

TEN

Rick Santos bent on one knee and used binoculars to scout the area ahead. A ghillie suit covered the Rhodesian SAS camouflage fatigues he wore. Camouflage paint covered his face. Mike Collins, similarly dressed, knelt three meters away facing the other direction. To the casual observer, they appeared to be two bushes mingled in the mountain landscape.

They were in the Tonto National Forest southeast of Payson and northeast of Rye, in the middle of thick scrub oak sprinkled with ponderosa pine. The clean air bore the pleasant scent of sage and pine. A raven called nearby, and critters scurried in the brush from time to time. Both men's senses were heightened as they scanned the area. Rick had flown over the area the day before in a DPS plane and spotted occasional emerald green patches in the area, an indication of marijuana plants. Now he and Mike were doing a recon to verify Rick's observation.

Rick let the binoculars hang and took out his compass. He laid it on the face of a folded topo map and shot some azimuths. He very slowly leaned back and squeezed Mike's arm. Mike scanned a 180° arc in his field of vision and moved slowly off to Rick's left. He waited until Rick moved a little farther ahead and moved out.

Both men moved ahead ever so slowly, alternately looking ahead, looking up into the trees, and looking down at the ground. They were looking for anything that seemed out of place. A straight line or the outline of part of a human body, a change in the animal sounds, birds taking to flight. human smell—they constantly worked at keeping their minds and senses open to all input.

Rick looked up and started to move his eyes down. When they were looking level and parallel to the ground, his peripheral vision caught a faint line of light crossing the deer path to his right…a straight line across. There are no straight lines in nature. He went to one knee and pushed the transmit button on his radio to break squelch, Mike's signal to stop and go to one knee, which he did.

Mike slowly turned to look at Rick. Rick pointed to his eyes and then drew a straight line in the air, but low and parallel to the ground. He pointed to the line he found. Mike squinted in that direction and a look of recognition crossed his face. He gave thumbs up to Rick. Rick moved forward and Mike fell in behind him, keeping three meters between them.

Rick could feel himself getting tense. He carefully scanned the ground leading up to the line. He moved forward cautiously, taking deep breaths to ease off the building apprehension. He got close enough to see a taut fishing line. Was it a noise warning device or a booby trap?

He got up to the line and looked along to the right. It went to the base of a scrub oak. To the left, though, the line disappeared into a can set in the fork of a branch of another scrub oak. Rick swallowed hard. He slowly turned to Mike and gave the signal for booby trap. Mike's eyes widened. He nodded and assumed 360° security as Rick intently focused on the task at hand.

Rick slowly approached the can. A closer look revealed an M-26 grenade in the can surrounded by nails. The fishing line connected to the pin, and the pin stuck out so it barely held the spoon. Rick knew he had to push in the pin. He also knew Robin just might get pissed off if he did it without waiting for the bomb techs. On the other hand, Robin would probably not want to leave this thing sitting here where anyone could come across it. Rick took out his pocket camera and took pictures of the trap. He put the camera back into his vest. Taking a deep breath, he reached into the can, holding the spoon from the top of the grenade with this left hand, and gently pushed the pin in to the hilt with his right hand. Rick slowly removed the grenade from the can and carefully inspected it to make sure the mechanism looked complete and in good condition. The relative newness of the grenade surprised him. They usually found older ones. Satisfied it all looked safe, he carefully released the pressure on the spoon. The pin held securely in place. Rick spread the end of the pin to make sure it stayed in place and gave Mike the all clear signal. Mike replied with a smile and thumbs up.

Rick placed the grenade in a pouch on his tactical vest and gave the signal to move out again. They resumed their slow movement over the terrain. After fifteen minutes, Rick signaled he saw a marijuana plant ahead of him and slightly to the left. He took a couple of more steps and pointed to other plants around it. The two men were now on high alert. Rick reached the first plant and could smell the odor of marijuana as he watched Mike touch the plant with his glove and see the THC sticking to it. The hybrid plant had many buds on it, all oozing THC. Rick estimated the THC content at well over 20 percent, very expensive stuff. The owners would be serious about guarding it, as the booby trap already demonstrated; time to call Robin and the rest of the Guardians.

ELEVEN

At 2100 hours, Robin and Emmett carefully instructed Eric Newman on what to say to Walton. Robin didn't doubt that if Newman didn't act exactly right during the phone call, Walton would completely shut down the operation, no matter how much money it would cost him. “Loosen up, Eric,” Robin said.

“That's easy for you to say. You're not the one staring at twenty-five years in the joint if this plan doesn't work.”

“All you gotta do is get him to a place where he can see you have the money, and he will never believe you've been arrested. He will certainly be careful at first, but just work him…like catching the big fish.”

Newman raised and lowered his shoulders and stretched his neck side to side. “All right, all right, I can do this.”

“I know you can. Otherwise we wouldn't have reached this point.”

Newman took a deep breath. Robin nodded his head for Newman to make the call. Emmett started the tape recorder.

“Hello,” Walton said over the phone.

“Hey, Carl. How ya doin?'”

A long moment of silence passed. “I'm doing fine, as usual. Haven't heard from you for a while.”

“Well, ya know how that goes. Been pretty busy lately. Kinda runnin' around.”

“I imagine so. How are the kids?”

“I still have them all with me. They're all fine.”

“I'm sorry to hear about your cousin's accident. Were you close to where it happened?”

“Not really. I found out by reading it in the paper.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks. I have some arrangements to make and will be pretty busy for awhile. I wondered if you could take the kids for me.”

“Well, I think I can. Call me tomorrow morning at the office. We'll make arrangements then.”

“Thanks. I'll call you around ten.”

“That's good. I'll talk to you then.”

“Adios.”

“Bye.”

Newman hung up the phone and let out a deep breath.

“What do you think?” Robin asked.

“Well, I think he is sniffin' the hook.”

Carl Walton sat at his desk in his home office. He ignored the McClellan's Islay single malt scotch he had poured for himself before Newman called. Walton knew his mind had to remain clear to thoughtfully examine all aspects of the last three days. Ramon's death, Miguel's dangerous anger, and now Eric's call all worked to keep him unbalanced, a mental condition that was foreign to him. Walton did not like it in the least.

The main thrust of Walton's thoughts focused on regaining control. Nothing could be done about Ramon's death. Still, he needed to deal with Miguel's anger by directing the anger at anything but himself. As much as Walton disliked a direct attack on Marlette, at this point he saw no benefit to himself to argue against it. Having Miguel and Juan thinking about revenge on Marlette suited him much better than having them think about Carl Walton. Two out of three problems solved.

Eric presented a different matter. While Walton did not have in-depth knowledge of police operations, Marlette's team had a reputation of being tough, well disciplined, and thorough. It raised the question of how Eric could escape. Had he really been captured and now working for DPS? On the other hand, he said he had the money. There's no way any police agency would let five million dollars be in the custody of an informant. Besides, Eric was his brother-in-law, and Walton knew Eric loved his sister, if he loved anybody in this world. The two were orphaned as small children and had fought to stay together. They took good care of each other. Eric wouldn't do anything to hurt Ann. Therefore, Walton reasoned, Eric would never do anything to set Walton up.

Still, his nature dictated he remain careful. The meeting with Eric had to be secure from the police. He would make sure Eric brought the money to this meeting. If he didn't, Walton would know Eric didn't have control of the money and all bets would be off.

With this plan, Walton felt like he'd regained some control of the situation. He settled in his chair and sipped his drink. He would have Eric meet him at Superstition State Park, where there were some fairly private open areas. All he needed to do was see the money. He would get there first and would see instantly if anyone followed Eric. It would happen tomorrow evening.

Walton finished his drink and got up. He turned out the light to his office and took his glass to the kitchen. He then went to his bedroom and looked at his wife asleep in their bed. Walton's main feeling about his wife amounted to ambivalence. Beautiful, graceful and articulate, Ann moved comfortably in social circles, which complimented his career. Walton, however, didn't really love her. He reserved that feeling for two things: money and power. He knew she loved him, so Eric would certainly not hurt her by turning informant against him.

Robin and Jim Adams from the U.S. Attorney's office sat in front of Judge Roman's desk. The judge's face turned to stone as he read Robin's application for a wiretap on every type of communication device Walton possessed. The information about Walton's connection to Miguel Rodriquez-Lara and the planned bribes to government officials had to be very unsettling to a man like the good judge.