Chapter Seventeen: The takedown.
Hawk's point of view
Jordan had just gone down when I heard a shot behind me and a slug exploded into the ground beside my head. I rolled madly to my left as more shots rang out. Arthur didn't seem smart enough to have fooled us, so the bad guys must have tailed him. Too bad they weren't as stupid as Arthur.
When the firing paused, I stopped rolling and fired once toward the corner of the house. It had no noticeable effect. So I waited, keeping an eye on both sides of the house in case the shooter tried to sneak around. Inside, I was worried about Ted and Lisa. Did they get away, was someone holding them at gunpoint now, or worse?
I gathered myself to charge the corner when I heard a shout on the other side of the house. "Police! Drop your weapon! Drop it! Do it! Now!" Then I heard a shot. It sounded like a different gun than the one that had been firing at me. Then there was the sound of someone running. I aimed and waited.
"I'm coming around the house. Don't shoot," the voice that had identified itself as police said. After Jordan, I wasn't sure I was buying.
"Slow and easy," I shouted back. "Keep that weapon pointed away."
When the man came around the house, I couldn't help myself. "Shit. Why did it have to be you, Digger?"
Sure enough, there he was, funky mustache, hat and all. His pistol was pointed straight up. "So, are you gonna shoot me or listen to what I've got to say?" Digger asked. "And you'd better hurry up and decide, because
they
have your friends."
I jumped up and ran over to him. "Let's go." When I rounded the house, I saw another crumpled form, a man, lying near the bushes. This was going to be tough to explain. In the distance, I could hear a siren wailing, getting closer.
Digger led the way to his car and jumped in. I slid into the passenger seat and we took off even while I was belting in. He consulted a handheld device and drove. "You okay, Hawk? Not shot are you?"
"Where did that hokey accent go? Why shouldn't I just pop you one right in the mouth?" I asked with some heat.
"Well, I kin a get 'er back iffin that's what you want," he said with a grin. "Or I can just cut the crap and fill you in. Your call."
"I bet you think you're clever, Asshole. Give me the details," I said with resignation.
"There's good news and bad news. The good news is that you've been cleared in my investigation. Not the shooting, but the real investigation."
"Real investigation? What
real
investigation? Do you think my investigation isn't real?" I managed through clenched teeth. "Let's not even discuss that someone's been trying to kill my friends and me, too. Or did you miss that part?"
"Now, now..." Digger started.
"Don't placate me, Dick Cheese! Why are you
really
here?" I demanded.
"Police have been suspected of 'losing' drug money in vice and homicide," he said, "both in Houston and Galveston. Not just from the cities, either, but from both counties as well. I suspected someone in the DA's office was involved in both places, too. When the shooting took place at the vineyard, I didn't know if you were part of it or not, so I had to keep you in the dark."
Digger swerved out onto the main street and upped the acceleration. He slapped a bubble light on the roof and we took off.
"Why the hokey accent and being an asshole?" I asked.
"The accent was to make everyone disregard me as in inbred defective that wasn't a threat. The asshole is natural," he added with a grin. "Ask anyone that works with the Rangers. I called in the shooting back there and told them officers were in pursuit of kidnapping suspects. I was watching when it all went to shit and came in as fast as I could."
"You were watching? Shit. Well, maybe that might help me some. Captain Jordan was one of
them
. He's dead back there," I added. "The Galveston DA is part of it, and some guy named Bill Tanner. Older white guy."
He nodded. "I'll run the name and see if any likely bolt holes pop out. I tagged the van with a tracer before I knew what they were going to do. Looks like they are fifteen miles or so up road."
"What the fuck is with that, anyway. You broke into my house and planted one on my bike," I said with a suspicious look.
"Look in the glove box."