Eleventh Hour

DeFrosh—I already told you that. Really weird, man.”
    Milton McGuffey put his head down on his folded arms and began to cry again. Everyone heard him say over his sobs, “I don’t want to go to jail, but now I’ll have to do time just because I put a little crease in the broad’s forehead.” He raised his head. “I want Stuckey to go down. I never should have agreed to do it in the church.”
    Delion said, “You didn’t realize there would be cops there?”
    “Stuckey told me there’d probably be a couple there, but if I got my timing right, I’d get away, no problem. Damned bastard, that Stuckey. I really want him to go down, he set the whole thing up.”
    Savich said as he himself smiled down at McGuffey, “Yes, he’ll go down, all right, Milt, just as soon as we catch him.”
    McGuffey’s jaw literally dropped open. He stared at Savich for a very long time.
    He said, “Shit, man.”
    Then he yelled at the top of his lungs, “I want a lawyer!”

    Delion looked over at Savich, who was speaking to Lieutenant Purcell. They heard her say she’d already put out an APB on Mickey Stuckey, aka Bomber Turkel, the most creative of all his aliases. Delion said, “That guy is something else, Dane. He’s your boss?”
    “Yeah, I’ve been in his unit for about five months now.”
    “Smooth as butter,” Delion said. “I was thinking about letting you have a go at Milton, but he knew you, knew you weren’t a cop, so that wouldn’t have worked. And there was Savich, looking ready, even smiling a little, and I knew he had something up his sleeve. He did good, didn’t he?”
    “Oh, yes.”
    “His wife, her name is really Sherlock?”
    Dane nodded, smiled. “Yes, they’re quite a team.”
    “You know,” Delion said, “I’ve been in court with Sherlock’s dad. Now there’s a tough, high-powered dude. Defense lawyers hate his guts. They bitch about having the rotten luck to end up with the only law-and-order judge in San Francisco. Cops love him, needless to say.”
    “Yes,” Dane said. “Too bad that Milton McGuffey isn’t a bit more stupid. The DA’ll have trouble proving attempted murder. We need Stuckey. At least Milt verified—and it’s probably the only thing he said that was true—that the guy who hired him lives in LA and his name’s DeFrosh. Damn, Milton isn’t the killer, Delion.”
    “Yeah, I know, but we’re getting there, Dane. I’m going to call Flynn, tell him what happened. He’s gonna love it that the creep who set this all up told Milton his name was DeFrosh.”
    Dane said, “Maybe he thinks we’re slow—DeFrosh even rhymes with DeLoach. What is he trying to prove? Is it his goal to get up close and personal with us? Or maybe he just wants us to believe that Weldon DeLoach is the killer?” Dane stopped when he saw Nick leaning against a wall, actually against a gray file cabinet since there was no wall showing. “Hey, you okay, Nick?”
    She said as she lightly touched her fingertips to the bandage on her forehead, “In this case, it really does look worse than it really is. I’m okay, just resting a bit.”
    Delion said, “I don’t know, Nick. I think you look kind of cute. In a pathetic sort of way. If you want a safe house now, I’ll bet the lieutenant will spring for it.”
    Dane said, “No, I’m keeping her with me. Are you in, Delion? We’re all going to LA tomorrow.”
    “I’m ahead of you, boyo,” Delion said. “I already called Franken. He said there was still no sign of Weldon. He’s got everybody looking for him, but he doesn’t hold much hope of finding him. Since the police are looking, too, maybe someone will see him. Franken’s going to meet us at the studio at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. He’s got some video of Weldon DeLoach.”
    “We’ll finally see what the man looks like,” Nick said.
    “Yep,” Delion said. “And there’s lots of stuff to go over with Flynn. He’s got a small army of people working on the personnel lists, interviews, checking alibis, possible motives. We’ve got a lot to tell him as well.”
    He looked over at Savich and Sherlock and rolled his eyes. “More Feds. It always starts with a single Fed—sort of like reconnaissance—then you look up and the Feds are converging, multiplying like rabbits until soon they’re everywhere and they’ve taken over. Hey, FBI Director Mueller will be out here before long. He comes from here, you know. Hey, you guys coming with us to LA?”
    “Count us