“I wonder what happened.”
Jimmy smiled. “The advantages of being a psychopath. No emotion about other people.”
Dale knew that the right thing would be to call the military and tell them they had Derek Baxter in custody.
At the end of reading, one thing was clear. Baxter was a military asset, but also an obvious sociopath.
Dale’s cell phone rang.
“Dayton.”
“We’ve got a problem, sir.”
He listened for a moment, the smile fading from his face. He hung up.
“Fuck!”
The uniform who’d been guarding Baxter’s room met Dale and Jimmy at the hospital entrance door.
“I tried to keep them out, Detectives, but they pushed their way through with their credentials. There was nothing I could do.”
“Don’t worry about it, kid.”
They took the elevator to the third floor. Dale and Jimmy strode across the lobby and passed the nurse’s station. Dale tried the doorknob to the room, but it had been locked from the inside. He jiggled it hard but it wouldn’t budge.
“Jimmy, find someone to open this, will you?”
As Jimmy turned to leave, the door was opened just enough for a large head with a blond crew cut to appear. The man had a square jaw and pronounced cords in his thick neck. “The Colonel will see you guys in a minute.”
Dale reached for the knob. “Wait—”
The man shut the door and Dale, raising his eyebrows, turned to Jimmy.
He answered with a shrug.
Less than a minute later, true to his word, the door opened and a man in a green military uniform walked out with a Marine swagger. A pair of tough-looking Army men followed him and stopped outside the door. The leader continued toward Dale and Jimmy, his chest displaying numerous medals and ribbons.
“Gentlemen, I’m Marine Colonel John Hughes.” The man didn’t extend his arm, his hands intertwined behind his back.
Dale thought Hughes resembled a cartoon character with deeply recessed eyes, a prominent nose and a narrow chin. His scholar accent didn’t go unnoticed.
“Detective Dayton, Vegas Police. This is my partner, Detective Mason.”
Hughes gave the detectives an antagonistic nod. “Detectives, I’m Derek Baxter’s defense attorney and I’ll be organizing his court-martial.”
“So what is it Baxter did that resulted in that special high-priority warrant?”
Hughes’s impassive face never changed. “That’s confidential information, Detective. I’ll be taking him back to base now.” He turned to leave.
“Wait a minute, Colonel.” Dale knew the military warrant took legal precedence over Baxter’s police custody, but he still didn’t like it. He played his highest card right away. “I don’t think you comprehend the gravity of the situation. You’re not taking him anywhere. Baxter is wanted for questioning in the murder of a police officer.”
The colonel didn’t flinch. “I’m sorry for your loss, Detective, but this is a matter of national security. Baxter is wanted back on base. The military prefers to handle these situations internally.”
“Listen, he killed my officer and there’s no way you’re taking him.” Dale moved closer to the colonel.
“We’ll see about that, Detective.” In one swift motion, the colonel pulled out a cell phone. He turned his back, made a call and held a short conversation. When he had hung up, he turned back around to face Dale.
“So?” Dale asked.
The colonel only smiled.
As if on cue, Dale’s cell phone rang. He answered without taking his eyes off the colonel.
“Dayton.”
“Let it go.” He heard his sergeant’s voice.
“Yeah. But…”
“I said, let it go.”
“Yeah. Okay, Sarge.” Dale slammed the phone shut and addressed the colonel. “Okay, you seem to have some pull in my department. But we have some questions for your client, questions that are imperative to our investigation.”
“He will not be answering questions from your department. I have your answers.”
Dale licked his lips. “So what can you tell me?”
“He was hired by a man named Ace Sanders to kill Calvin Watters. He was paid half upfront and the other half was to be paid on completion of his mission. Of course, that never happened. His employer never used his name, but my client, being a thorough Marine, conducted his research and knew who he was working for.”
Before Dale could ask another question, the Colonel continued. “He is no longer in your custody. The Marines will take over from here.”
Dale’s shoulders sagged.
Baxter would never undergo a civilian court trial for homicide. As bad as it seemed, Dale couldn’t help but smile at the poetic justice. Having Watters turn Baxter into a one-legged man, some justice had been served.
Dale and Jimmy watched Hughes turn and leave.
“Wow, he thinks his shit don’t stink.”
“Yeah, an asshole. But we have to let him take Baxter.”
“What do we do now?”
Dale would keep investigating the cop killing in hopes of finding evidence that he could give to the Marines and perhaps make their court-martial and sentencing more severe. But at the same time, he knew that he’d already found the real killer, so there was no cop-killer on the loose to search for, only potential evidence—a very slim hope at best.
“Back to square one, Jimmy. Grant’s original murder investigation. At least we have hearsay testimony through the colonel that Sanders hired Baxter. Of course we can’t use it because Baxter will be gone. That still doesn’t link Sanders to the first three murders, but it does strengthen his motives. Why would he want Watters dead, if it’s not because he knows too much about the murders?”
Baxter might have escaped civilian justice, but to Dale, Watters’ form of justice had been much greater and much more devastating. And he also realized that the military could be vindictive with those who betray their uniform and country.
“Let’s go tell Watters.”
“What the fuck do you mean he’s leaving?” Calvin squeezed out, his throat constricted from emotion. He couldn’t believe what the detectives were telling him. He and Rachel had just spent four days locked up, hiding from both the police and a hired killer. Their lives had changed beyond recall. His body hurt, his girlfriend was in hiding and he had to sit and listen as the dicks on the job let Baxter go.
“I know how you must be feeling, but our hands are tied. The Marines wanted Baxter long before we did and they have dibs on him before the Vegas Police,” Dale said.
“This is bullshit!” Calvin tried to stand, but the pain won over. “Give me a hand, will ya?”
The detectives helped him to sit up on the edge of the bed. He knew that he shouldn’t be blaming them. They’d done all they could. But Calvin was feeling the aftereffects of the last four days and he needed someone to take his frustrations out on.
“How are your injuries?” Dale asked.
“Better.”
“Want some?” The detective held out a tin of Skoal but he declined. Dale jammed in a chunk. “I thought all you athletes did this?”
Calvin smiled but said nothing. He put his good hand on the bed railing and placed all his weight on it, pushing himself to his feet. He still had trouble with balance.
“I need to get out of this stuffy room.”
“How about a walk?” Detective Mason spoke for the first time since the introductions.
Calvin hobbled on stiff legs across the room. The detectives opened the door just as Baxter was being wheeled past. He was uncovered, which revealed his bandaged, shortened left leg.