by: Kristy Duke
**Author’s Note: This is my first cross over story and is a cross over of Blue Bloods and Dukes of Hazzard. I normally just write Duke fan fic, but decided to try a story with my two favorite TV shows. I try my best to keep them in character, but am they are not perfect to how they are on the show. I just try…also, my story is wrote in today’s time compared to when the Dukes aired. And lastly…I write in first person and do switch from character to character. I am going to try switching characters from chapter to chapter to help make it less confusing. I do welcome any positive feedback as well as helpful feedback that may help better my writing. Thanks so much for taking the time to read all this and I hope you enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing. It is a work in progress and will update it as I go along…but time is limited.. Thanks again. :)**
PROLOGUE
Feeling the intense heat of the small room quickly surround me, I find myself staring angrily at the small man that sits upon the cold, hard metal chair across the steel table. Anger that is rooted in vivid scenes of three innocent families assaulted and murdered within the safe confines of their own homes that intensely floods my mind. Of the blood. The violence. Only to feed my imagination of what each family member had gone through, their last thought they had, the pain and fear that must have captured their beaten bodies, and the last sight they had seen. Was it of their killer or was it of their loved one being killed across the room? Only to send a violent chill spreading over me and intensifies the anger within me.
“Answer me Pablo!” I scream to pierce through the thick silence that had followed my question.
He looks blatantly up at me before opening his mouth before thinking twice of whatever he was going to say and closes it again. He slowly takes his dark eyes off of me to glare over at my partner who stands in the corner, her arms folded tightly against her body. Sighing heavily he looks back at me and states, “I told you, I don’t go by Pablo no more,” he hisses at me angrily as he runs his hand through his thick dark brown hair, “I answer to Fuego.”
“You will answer to whatever name I call you!” I yell as I take a step forward and angrily shove the table into his chest to send pain and a hint of fear in the man’s dark eyes.
Pablo only stands to be five feet and five inches tall and looks to be small and scrawny, which seems to give him a look on the streets to be an easy fight. But he is anything but an easy fight. After years of getting picked on for his size in grade school, he had taken up martial arts and weightlifting in junior high and hasn’t given up yet on his intense training. Leaving him muscular and well prepared for any fight that anyone has to offer. Making him the prime example of how looks are deceiving.
Through research of Pablo “Fuego” Herandez, I have learned his mother had given birth to him at a prison here in New York City where she was serving time for theft and for the assault of a police officer. Pablo’s grandmother had taken him in, but of what I read, his grandmother wasn’t an angel either as she had several charges of arson and theft herself. And as Pablo grew, his grandmother grew old and weak, and in turn had paid as little attention to the boy who was getting in more and more trouble at school, when he went. By the time Pablo was nine years old he was already friends with several older kids who were known gang members and it was only a matter of time since Pablo was in the gang and active in gang activity.
Pablo has had some sort of fascination with fire since he was young and as he grew in the gang and spent a lot of time in and out of juvenile hall and later in life in prison, he had used some sort of fire in his crimes. Mostly of theft, assault, and drugs. Where his “friends” had given him the nickname “Fuego” which is the Spanish word for fire.
Though, as I stare across the table at Pablo, this time, it isn’t for one of his crimes or for something he did. But for someone he knows. Or something he knows. And is now attempting to play innocent or naïve.
Looking over at my partner I find her looking at me with dark eyes and a stern look before she slowly and reluctantly nods. Slowly looking across the table at Pablo I quickly throw the empty metal chair back before heavily sitting down in it as I continue to picture the gruesome crime scenes that has spread across the past month. One month. Three families murdered and burned to death in their own homes. With little to no reason as to why or any connection to the three families. The Nunez family were of Hispanic heritage. The parents were both in their mid thirties with four children from the age of eighteen months to fifteen years. The Ogle Family was of a single mother around twenty – five with two children; a boy of two years old and a girl of six years old. And the last family to be killed was the Hendersons. African American heritage. The widowed grandmother of eighty-five years old lived with her son and daughter in law who were close to forty years old and had six children. From the age of five years old to sixteen years old.
All family members were beaten and shot to death.
All houses were in different locations and all sets of children attended different schools. Three different races. Three different incomes. Different jobs.
“Look at me Pablo!” I snap and he jumps before looking at me, “Do you understand what I am telling you? Your so called friends have murdered three different families. Children. Babies. A grandmother. Their parents. All dead. Violently attacked in their own damn homes!” I pound the table in anger and feel the pain race up my arm though ignore it as I go on, “Baez and me know that you didn’t do it. But we do know you know something…or someone who did.”
“Yeah?” he questions, his Spanish accent thick in just a single word, “How’s that?”
I eye him momentarily. Finding some satisfaction at seeing sweat roll rapidly down his tan face before I shrug and sit back in my chair. “Because the way they burned the houses down,” I pause for a long time as I shove my hands down into my suit pocket to run my fingers over the charred paper we had found on the front lawn of the last burned house. Looking back up, I continue, “has your name all over it. From the matches that were found, the lighter…everything.”
He shrugs none caringly. “Well you got me. Arrest me,” he challenges me boldly.
I nod while bighting onto my lower lip. “Hey Baez give the man a cigar!” I exclaim throwing my arms up in the air, “Why didn’t we think of that?”
Baez shakes her head at me while staring at Pablo. “Good question Reagan,” she finally states, interrupting her silence that she has had since we had entered the interrogation room, “I mean, what jury wouldn’t find someone like “Fuego” guilty of such heinous crimes as this? They’d for sure find you guilty. Give you life in jail. You’d be locked up to the day you die. Serving your life with other inmates that would do such a horrible thing like that. You would never see your baby girl ever again. Or your fiancée. Tell me Reagan, how long you think a boy like Pablo here would live in prison for what he did?”
I feign a thoughtful look at her before glancing over at Pablo. “Well Pablo here has got plenty of muscle and fight to him. He would give everyone who offered a good fight. But if all those other men in prison who has muscle and fight to them were to gang up on Pablo…well it wouldn’t take ‘em very long to finish him off,” I slowly answer before facing Pablo, “I hate to try to scare you Pablo, but am being honest with you. Because well, despite all your faults and your long conviction record, I kinda like you. You had stuff stacked against you since the day you were born and yet you keep on fighting. Never give up. I kinda like that about you. So before we go down this path of you trying to take the blame for your buddies, I want you to know what you will be up against,” I pause as he gives me an evil smile, “Despite all the evil and horrible stuff that all those men did to get sent to prison, they do have their own morals and standards. And one thing you don’t do…even in the mafia, is to abuse the elderly and the children.”
“Of which, if you are taking the blame for all of this,” Baez spreads her arms across the room to motion towards all the crime we are talking to him about, “you will be taking the blame for the beating, murder, and burning of twelve children and one elderly person.”
“Yeah,” I nod in agreement, “and it doesn’t take much for word of why you are serving time to get around in the prison.” I pause heavily as I wipe my face with my hander kerchief, “So perhaps you should think about all this before we go any farther. Because personally,” I lean forward, “I don’t think you have the guts to do what this monster…or monsters have done to these families. Behind all that muscle and armor you put up, is a nice guy who cares too much to do what they have done…”
“I don’t care about nothing,” Pablo states, slinking back into his chair in attempt to put on his attitude.
“You don’t care?” Baez asks as she walks up to the edge of the table and puts down a colored photograph of Pablo’s eight month old daughter, Juanita. In the picture Juanita dark brown eyes sparkle as she has a large toothless smile spread across her chubby cheeks and thin black hair lies neatly combed out. “Is that why Rosa,” Pablo’s fiancée, “has told me how you sing her to sleep every afternoon and at night? How you make sure you are off of work in time to sing Juanita to sleep? Or how you save up your money so you can buy Juanita toys that you have seen at the stores? Or, how about, how you missed your buddies party they threw for your own birthday to spend it with Juanita?” Baez pauses and looks at me quizzically, “Doesn’t that sound like a man that cares, Reagan?”
I nod with a thin smile. “Yeah Baez. I do believe that sounds like a man who cares,” I pause as I glare across the table at Pablo, “that sounds like a man who cares a whole lot.”
“OK fine,” Pablo sighs heavily, “so I care for my baby girl and for Rosa. That’s it.”
I nod as if in understanding before leaning into the table while pulling out a stack of pictures and lay them out. They are colored pictures of several of the children we had found, of several stuffed animals we had found covered in blood, and a couple of pictures of their houses burnt to the ground. “Well the monsters who did this,” I state as I put a heavy finger down on the remains of the eighteen month old, “wouldn’t even care for their own babies. Their own families. These monsters…all they care about is getting what THEY want. Doing what they WANT. So why don’t you look at ‘em. And just think,” I pause as I motion for him to look and he slowly does so, “this could be Juanita. Could be Rosa.”
“But it’s not!” he yells and with one angry motion he shoves the pictures off the table and they fall to the ground. He glances at me for a reaction of which I refuse to give him.
“You know Fuego,” Baez states as she puts her hands onto the table and lean in closer to him, “I talked to Rosa and she told me you all have a nice tan and white pit bull named Amigo that you adore. Love and take care of. She says most people in your gang have those dogs to feed off your ego and your image. She says not you. Your pit bull to you is family. Heck, she says last Christmas the dog had more Christmas presents more than she did!” Baez gives him a cute little laugh, “I know, I know. You have this tough guy image that you have to uphold. And this description that Rosa gave us, well it is an image of a family guy. A guy who cares and loves for his family. Something you don’t want shown to any of your homies.” She steps away from the table and back to her post near the closed door, “But the image she gave us all but proves that you are not capable of doing that…so you can sit there and be willing to do the time for your so called friends who are capable of doing that,” she points to the pictures on the floor, “but before you do, perhaps you should think of Juanita and Rosa. Do you really want to lose that? Because once they put that guilty verdict on you, you will be seeing them through Plexiglas for the rest of your life. No more hugs. No more kisses. No more smiles.”
Pablo eyes me angrily for a long moment before looking away as if thinking about something. After a long moment of silence he looks at me and says, “Damn it’s hot in here! Turn down the damn heat!” he angrily yells, his voice echoing off the walls, “Look at you man! Even you sweating like the pig you are!”
I give him a small smile at his joke he had made towards me before slowing nodding in agreement. “What ya know? I am,” I finally state, “but you know this job, why I am here. It’s not about me. Not about my comfort. It is for the safety of New York City…of which I am trying to pursue by getting those monsters off the street. Now you tell us what you know and I may be nice enough to turn it down.”
“So you two are just going to sit in here and sweat it out, huh?” he questions leaning back in his chair, eyeing both of us cautiously.
“Nah, but you will,” I smile at him, “you see, me and Baez can walk out that door where the whole dang building is nice and air conditioned. We can do a few paper work. Make a few more deals. Heck, I could even go get a can of pop or perhaps some coffee if I felt like it. I could even go out for a smoke…if I smoked. Which I don’t. You on the other hand will be stuck in here…”
“Stuck in here? You ain’t arrested me yet,” he questions full of attitude, “heck you both said you don’t think I did nothing! So I should be able to walk out that door any damn time I please which I think I do-”
“OK fine. Relax Pablo,” I motion to him, “you give us something and the air goes on. Baez here may be nice enough to get you something to drink. What you like? Coffee? Mountain Dew?”
“Dr. Pepper,” he grudgingly states, his muscular arms fold tightly against his tight blue t-shirt.
“OK Dr. Pepper it is,” I pause momentarily for affect, “once you start talking. Otherwise we can make this into an arrest and you can be making that call to Rosa to tell her you been arrested.”
“Which will break her heart,” Baez throws in, “I talked to her real long. She seems like such a loving young woman. So sweet. Innocent. And yet stuck in that ran down apartment in your neighborhood, taking care of Juanita, and waiting for you to come home. Somehow she sees something in you that makes her want to stay. You think she will stay there and stay just as devoted to you as she is now once she hears what you did to all those children? To their families?” Baez goes silent to let it sink in, “Somehow I don’t think so. She talked about how she wanted to get out of New York. Go back to Florida. Show her parents their grandbaby. I may even give her some money to help her on that train or plane to help her get out of that dump. To help her and Juanita…what a beautiful baby. You think you would see much of her -”
“OK, ok,” he throws his hands up in surrender, fear enters his eyes, “I didn’t do it…but I can’t say anything. They will kill me. Heck forget about me!” he yells, the fear in his eyes now screams at me, “They’d kill Juanita and Rosa if I said anything! You’re a cop! You know damn well what happens to snitches in gangs!”
I nod quietly as I glance down at the single picture that lies on the table of baby Juanita smiling so happily, her dark eyes shining back at us. Looking back up at Pablo I slowly agree with him, “So I do. Which is why I advise everyone I know not to join them. For those who are in them, to find a way out.” I shrug nonchalantly at him, “I know you had a rough upbringing from your mom being in jail, not knowing your dad, and being raised by your grandmother who saw you as a burden. I feel for you. Truly I do.” I give him another shrug as I go through the lines I had rehearsed ever since we learned about him and researched him, “But I know other people who were orphaned at birth. Raised by strangers. And yet walked the straight and narrow. They didn’t seek the dark. The violence. The gang life. But worked hard to achieve their dreams to become bigger than their past. To raise their own families. Go to college. To succeed in life. And yet there is you who decided the gang life and took the path of destruction…it’s all in a matter of choice. And with choices, comes consequences.”
“You think I had much choice living in that ghetto?! It was either to be part of them or against them. And to be against them…well you don’t go against them and live to talk about it!” he yells back at me, “I applaud those people you are talking about. Good for them! But I didn’t have that choice! And now you are making me choose going to prison and never seeing my family again or to watch them being killed by the same people I grew up with! What kind of choice is that?!”
“No one said life is fair, Pablo. Of all people, you should know that. Your grandmother was far from being a saint, but she wasn’t part of that gang. Was she? And she lived to be, what? Eighty?” I question and he hesitantly nods.
“But that is because she bought their drugs from them. Supported them. Never caused them no harm,” he sharply retorts, “heck, she even let them hide out in her basement when they were running from the cops! She may not have been part of the gang, but she definitely helped them out and showed no objection when I joined! She said, it was a matter of survival! Which it was! You try living on them streets and surviving without them. Bet you couldn’t do it either!”
I eye him for a long silent moment, grudgingly knowing he is probably right. I slowly nod as I put my hand in my pocket again to feel that paper and once again feel the anger raise within me from what it says. Putting my hands on the table again, I slowly begin to respond, “Ok, ok. I’ll give you that one. But it don’t make it right.” I pause as he gives me a grin to say ‘I told you so’.
“So Baez and me did our research on you. We talked to Rosa. Heck we even called and talked to Rosa’s parents and,” I go quiet for a long moment as I pull out two plane tickets out of my pocket, “we have agreed, if you talk and give us the info needed to find where these monsters are hiding, we will give you these one way air plane tickets to Florida. Where Rosa’s parents will be waiting to pick you up. You will have police guarding their house and neighborhood until we call down and tell them we got these monsters arrested and no longer to offer any of you harm.
“What you say? You help get these monsters off the street and you all get a one way pass to change your life around,” I slowly begin to finish up as I take in his reaction, “not only that, but Rosa’s dad knows someone that could use someone like you. Put you on an honest paycheck. A good paycheck.”
“For real?” he finally questions unbelieving.
I nod. “For real,” I respond showing him the tickets at a distance where he can’t reach them.
“Only if you answer our questions and cooperate with us,” Baez chimes in from the door, “otherwise we’ll just give ‘em to Rosa and Juanita. Get them away from the loser that you are.”
Pablo eyes her for a long moment before he eyes me for a long thoughtful moment. “Ok, ok,” he states reluctantly, “but not until you turn down the damn heat and give me something to drink. I’m about to pass out in here.”
I eye him for a long moment before nodding at Baez who opens the door and slams it behind her before she goes to get what Pablo wants. “I am glad you have changed your mind. It will take Baez a couple of minutes to get that pop and get the air kicked on,” I slowly state as I wipe my face with my handkerchief again before slowly standing up, “perhaps you can take the time to think what you have to say.”
He silently nods as he grabs the picture of his daughter off of the table and I slowly kneel down to pick up the pictures that he had shoved onto the floor. With each picture my heart seems to tighten in anger towards the people who would do this to these families and for what all these people had to go through in their last moments of life. How can one moment, life be so normal and the next full of fear before your life is being wiped away for good? One thing if it is due to an illness or an accident, but someone purposefully to go in and do this to anyone?
Only makes me think of my family back home and I find myself praying for the victims and for my own family as I pocket the pictures into my chest pocket once again.
“I have this?” Pablo breaks the silence as I slowly stand back up to sit back down in my chair again and I glance over at him to find him looking at the picture of his daughter that Rosa had given to Baez.
“Yeah, sure,” I slowly state as the door is thrown open and Baez walks in with a can of Dr. Pepper, “There you are. Was beginning to think you ran off on us…”
“All you men are impatient,” she states half jokingly, “I was gone for what? Five minutes? I had to get the pop and turn the air on before having to explain it all to the captain…and now I am explaining all that to you! Geesh. There’s your pop Fuego.”
Pablo nods his thanks at her as he opens the can and it echoes off the walls before taking a long drink from the tin can. “Ah thanks. Starting to feel a bit better in here too,” Pablo states, feeling more comfortable now that Baez has met his needs.
“Good,” I harshly state as I pull a pad of paper from my inner pocket and a pen, “now let’s get started. Before we do, we need to know if you want a lawyer. If not, you will have to sign a sheet saying you don’t.”
He eyes me impatiently. “I don’t need no lawyer,” he harshly states and I give him the piece of paper and a pen.
“Good. Makes it easier for us all. Now then,” I pause as I hand him a pad of paper, “I will ask you some questions and when we are done, we will need you to write it all out on paper. Understand?”
“Really?” he whines and I take a play at grabbing the notebook back, “OK fine. I understand.”
“Good now,” I respond sitting up in my chair, taking a glance back at Baez before looking back across the table at Pablo. “I will be recording our conversation as well…helps with the old memory.” I put the recording device on the table and push play before identifying myself, Baez, Pablo and why we are here. “So Pablo, we have shown you the photos and you know the nature of the crimes committed. Three different families murdered and burned to death in their own homes. No ties or connection between the three other than they own or rent their own houses. We have reasons to believe that it is someone or some people in your gang, Yellow Dragons, that did all this. We also have reasons to believe you know who or why all this happened. Are we correct?”
Pablo eyes me angrily before staring at the recording as if it is about to bite him. “This is stupid! What you going to do with that? Give it to them so they can come after me?!” he yells.
“Pablo, Pablo,” Baez steps in, “you’re doing good. Don’t ruin this for you, for Juanita. This is your ticket out of New York. A new life. We are good on our promise. You?”
He eyes her for a long moment with eyes full of uncertainty and fear before he inhales loudly and sits back on his chair and nods. “OK, ok. Yeah,” he finally states, “So you’re correct.” He begins to trace his can with his finger nervously. “But I . . .I didn’t do that. I had nothing to do with what happened to those families. To those children. I would never hurt a child. Never.” He shakes his head at us repeatedly.
“We know that Pablo. Otherwise you’d be in handcuffs right now,” I attempt to assure him and I find myself playing with my pen, nervous of losing Pablo and the valuable information that he holds. “But we need to know who did this. Where they are? And why they would do this. You are the only one we know that can help us answer these questions.”
He sighs heavily and nods while eyeing Baez and I. “Dagger and Sword. They are the two leaders of the gang. Well Dagger is, but he don’t go no where without Sword,” he nervously pauses as he begins to move his can in circles in front of him, “Anyways, you don’t want to mess with them. You get them mad and normally you end up in the hospital or six feet under, if you get what I say? Well,” once again he nervously pauses, looking all around before looking at me once more, “things were slow. His drug dealers were having a hard time selling except for the normal people that buy from them. But they are always looking for new customers, know what I mean? Anyway, things were slow. People out of money. So he pulled us all in, wanted some ideas to get things heated up. Start trouble in the city…make us known.”
Pablo goes silent as he takes a long drink from his can of pop, his dark eyes circulating around the room once more. “Well, before all that, Dagger’s brother, Scar was stopped by a police officer. Detective. Some sort of police. Things went bad and well, Scar was shot and killed by the officer,” he pauses a moment in thought, “Perhaps a month and a half ago. And well, Dagger got real mad. Took it hard.” Pablo recounts, pausing to take in our reacting before continuing once more, “I didn’t see him for over a month after that. Word had was going around how upset Dagger was about his brother’s death. Blamed everyone. Blamed himself. Word was, that Dagger was talking of some sort of revenge.
“As I said, you don’t mess with Dagger without consequences…”
I wait a moment for him to go on but he just shakes his head nervously at me. “You got me lost here Pablo,” I finally admit, “what does all this have to do with those three families? We checked their background. None of them work for the jail, courts, or police. Think it was fast food, a school teacher, a janitor and other type jobs. Nor do they live in that area of town…”
“I know, I know. But that would be too obvious and when Dagger retaliates, it is normally not as obvious as most people are when they retaliate, if that makes sense,” Pablo pauses shaking his head as if trying to make sense of it himself, “look, I really don’t know what happened or why. All I know what he said in that meeting. He wanted something done. He wanted his anger and hatred to be heard amongst all. Wanted the city of New York to know what we…they are all about. Then he told us to hit the streets. Start fires, start trouble. And as I was leaving, he pulled me aside. Which is,” he pauses as if searching for the right word, “really wild, you know what I mean? I am just a member of his gang. A no one. And for him to pull me aside like that…it was odd.”
I nod as if understanding while listening to the clock slowly tick on. “So what did this Dagger say?” I question, “What is his real name? Sword’s name?”
“I . . .uh…don’t know. I don’t think anyone knows their real name. You don’t ask ‘em question, you just do what they say,” he pauses for a long moment as he takes his last sip of pop before slamming it back down again. Looking at me he slowly continues, “All he did was ask for my lighters that I had. For how I started the fires that I did. Which isn’t anything fancy or new. But you don’t argue with the boss man, know what I mean? I’ve been playing with fire since I was five…so I gave him what I liked. Gave him the lighters. He said he and Sword had some big ideas of letting them be heard and known and had select men to help them with it. He even asked if I wanted to join them. Me…a no one.”
“And what you say?” I ask hesitantly, afraid to hear what he had to say.
He shakes his head. “I thanked him. Told him how honored that he of all people would be seeking my help and inviting me along! But,” he pauses as he sits back in his chair, “I tol’ him I couldn’t do it. I needed to get home to Juanita and Rosa. I thought he would be mad. But he just said he knew I would be too chicken to join the greats of him and Sword. That only the elite are willing to do his dirty work. Something like that.
“Anyway, two days later I read about that Nunez family being killed and burned in their own home in a matter that was how I tol’ him I burned down my first barn,” he says, regret thick in his voice and he abruptly sits in his chair, “Honest. I didn’t know what he was going to do with what I said. He asked. I answered. You don’t go against his or Sword’s wishes.”
I nod silently as I think of what he said and try to think of the right question and where I should go from here. “So did he say anything else afterwards or since then?”
He eyes me for a short moment. “No, not to me. He has made it known he wasn’t too happy with me for not going along. But I guess he wasn’t too upset either because as of now he hasn’t done nothing to me. But,” he goes silent once again as he bites his lower lip and he glances down at the picture of Juanita that he holds onto. Looking up he continues, “shortly after I read about the last family that got killed, it was spread around that Dagger, Sword and their elite group has left New York. Perhaps for good. Or just to hide out until things calmed down.”
I glance at Baez for a short moment before eyeing Pablo and nod at him to let him know he is doing good. “Did they say where they would go?” I finally question.
“I. . .I don’t think so,” he stutters nervously as he goes to take a drink from his can of pop that is empty.
I nod at him again before I reach into my suit pocket and pull out the folded bright yellow printer paper that had been left on the front lawn of the last victim’s house. “You are doing good, Pablo. Now, when we came to investigate the last burned house, my investigators had found this and brought it to my attention,” I unfold the bright paper and lie out in front of him. Typed centered on the bright paper in big, bold, and black letters read Following me would be Hazzard-ous, Reagan. “Does that look familiar or sound familiar?”
He eyes it for a long moment and a shimmer of fear enters his dark eyes as he looks up at me. “N…no it doesn’t. But detective,” he pauses as he looks back at the paper and up at me, “for him to point you out like this, is not good. This means…this means he has it in for you. He will be waiting for you. Watching you. He will haunt you. It means…he will do what it takes to kill you.” He goes silent, his fear in his eyes for me is evident before he shakes his head. “N…no. I don’t mean for you think I am trying to scare or threaten you. I am not Detective Reagan. I am trying to warn you. I have seen him do some horrible things. When he calls you out like this…it means only one thing.”
I nod in appreciation. “I know. Thank you, Pablo. I will keep my eyes open and be warned.” I go back to nervously playing with my pen as my eyes fall back upon the paper that has plagued me ever since they had brought it to me. “So Pablo. We have been going through this…he has spelled Hazzard wrong. As if on purpose. And capitalized. So we looked it up on our computer and it seems like there is a small town in Georgia that spells it just like it is on the paper. We were hoping you would know a thing or two about that?”
He eyes the paper thoughtfully. “I never heard them say where they would go or why. I am just the rat. They wouldn’t give me details like that,” he states as he eyes the paper thoughtfully once more, “but it would be like him to lay a trail like that for you. Call you out in that matter. “
“Thank you Pablo. You have been very helpful. Baez here will get you another pop and will help you get things settled,” I state sincerely as I stiffly stand up and hand him the tickets, “your plane will leave in an hour. So after you finish up here, one of our people will drive you to the airport where Rosa is already at with another of our officers. I hope you can make the most of this. Most people in your situation never get the chance.”
“I know Detective. I know,” Pablo grins appreciatively, “and I appreciate you giving me this chance. This opportunity.”
“Good luck with it all and give Juanita a hug. They are only small for a little while,” I give him a grin before I step out into the patrol room with Baez following me.
“I will give him another pop?” she asks me, eying me with dark eyes.
“Yes you will,” I give her a small smile, “I am going to go to go talk to the captain and see about us going to this Hazzard, Georgia.”
She rolls her dark eyes at me before she walks off towards the cafeteria to get another Dr. Pepper while I walk another way to where the captain’s door is open and softly knock.
“It’s open,” a stern voice states and I take a deep breath before stepping in and the captain looks up from his desk. “Ah Reagan. I’ve been expecting you.”
“Good. Then you know why I am here,” I state while the Captain slowly stands from his desk, “we just got done interviewing Pablo…the witness we brought in against who has been doing these … murderers. And he all but confirms that we should go to Hazzard, Georgia.”
The captain sighs heavily and nods. “I was afraid you would say that. I have done my own researching,” he walks around only to sit on the edge of his desk, “seems Hazzard is a very small town. A farm town. An hour away from Atlanta. So, I called an old friend who works with Atlanta police to see what he knows. He says Hazzard is ran by Commissioner J. D. Hogg. Also known as Boss. Boss owns pretty much everything in Hazzard and has a way to make things go his way. He is all about making the extra buck no matter how much it makes his people pay. He says he has never been caught nor his sheriff, Sheriff Rosco Coltrane. But my friend says they are not to be trusted. Both are greedy and dishonest. So he says it would be best to be as vague as you can around them.”
“Great,” I state sarcastically as Baez silently joins us.
“Exactly what I said,” the captain rolls his eyes, “ so be warned. I didn’t call and let them know, my friend said it may be best if you come unannounced. So you both will get the seven am flight out of New York City where he will have one of his men pick you up in Atlanta and take you down to the station to give you a car and some info. This is no vacation, Danny. You are down there on business.”
“What?!” I ask exasperated. “If I wanted to go on vacation I’d be taking my family instead…well I’m sorry Baez.”
“Not a problem,” she states, flickering a smile at me.
“Good,” he says as he eyes Baez, giving her the silent motion to go and she silently does as he is asking. As she leaves, he turns to look at me and sighs heavily before grabbing his cup of coffee. “You up to this Danny? Linda and the kids be ok with it?”
“They’re gonna have to be. Since when you worried on whether they are OK with things or not?!” I ask frustrated where this is going.
“Just a question. I guess,” he goes silent as he stares over my shoulder for a long moment and then back at me,” I have to admit, that note keying you out like that, makes me nervous. As much as I hate to admit it, you are probably one of the best detectives I got. I can’t afford to lose you. Heck, New York can’t afford to lose you.”
I give him a sarcastic smile. “Well thank you Captain. That means a lot coming from you,” I nod at him, “not to worry. I will watch my back and get these monsters in jail before you know it.”
“Good. Jail is too good for them, though,” he dryly states. “Best of luck to you and Baez.”
“Thanks,” I state before leaving his office and walking across the hall to where my cubicle sits, my desk leaning against Baez’s. “You ready for the trip?”
“I’m gonna have to be, right?” she grins at me as she puts her coat on, “I’ll be at the air port at six tomorrow. Don’t be late, Reagan. I’m not going there alone.”
I nod at her. “See you then,” I nod as I watch her walk away before picking up my phone to see I have a message on it so I slowly dial my password in it to hear my dad’s voice gruffly state, “Danny. It’s me. Please stop by my house on your way home. I have a favor to ask of you.”
* * * * * *
Pulling to a halt in the driveway of the house I had grown up in, I slowly turn the car off to flood the car in silence as old memories begin to race through me. Memories of my mom making our weekly Sunday dinner. Of the fights I had with my brothers and my sister. Of having to make up afterwards by either washing dishes together or working outside. Memories I often shove away and hide in order to keep my emotions at ease.
Sighing heavily I step out of my car and glance around as the sky seems to gradually grow darker as if to match my mood. This case had started out about the families and the gruesome crime that was committed for little to no reason and then they had to drop that note as if to taunt me. To let me know that they knew I was leading the case and was trying to scare me off. Well, I don’t scare easily, but one of these times, perhaps I won’t be lucky enough to escape the threat of the bad guy. Would this be the case that would do me in? And how would my family react? Who would be there for Linda and the boys?
“Danny!” I hear my dad’s familiar voice yell out at me and I glance up to find my dad standing in the open door way and I force a smile at him as I begin to walk across the lawn and as I reach him, he draws me into a short hug. “So, you did get my message?”
I nod at him as I follow him into the kitchen and silently close the door behind me before glancing around the small kitchen before turning around to face. He gives me a small nod with a smile before he nervously begins to fuss with a pile of papers and I slowly get the sense that the favor he called me about, has something to do with work. Or he is about to ask me to do something that he knows I will object to and won’t be too happy about.
I was born into a family of police. My grandfather spent his adult life as a police officer or detective before he worked himself up to be the police commissioner. My dad followed his steps into being a police officer and as my grandfather had retired, my dad took his place where he sits to be New York City’s police commissioner.
And it seems like something that is in our blood. Our family calling. As my older brother was a police officer. A pretty damn good one. Until he was investigating a group of dirty cops and he was killed in the line of duty. I started out in the Army before I came home and joined the police and am now a police detective. My younger sister, Erin, had decided to take a slightly different route in life and is the assistant district attorney. And the youngest, my younger brother Jamison, Jamie, who went to law school, has now become a street cop.
“Yes I did, Commissioner, “ I state with a small smile as I lean against the counter, “but I thought it would be best just to show up…calling you back would have wasted time.”
“Yeah, it probably would have been,” he slowly states as he turns away from his paper work as he bites onto his lower lip. “Look, as my message has stated, I have a huge favor to ask you. And before you get upset, this was my idea. Not Jamie’s.”
“Whoa whoa,” I put my hands up, “before I get upset at you or Jamie, you mind telling me what this favor is? I mean who’s to say I’ll get upset.”
“I know you, that’s why,” my dad turns around and looks at me before he walks over and grabs two bottles of beer and opens them both before handing me one. He watches as I appreciatively takes a drink of mine and put it down before he continues, “being the police commissioner, I have kept a good eye on this case that you caught. I have read up on it and through it all, I have learned that you and Baez are planning a trip to Hazzard, Georgia. You going tomorrow, at seven?”
“Yes sir,” I nod, taking another sip of beer.
He nods, biting his lower lip, acting as if he is thinking this through for the first time, but knowing my dad, he has been thinking this through since he has heard of it. “As I said, I had a huge favor to ask of you and personally, I think it would be great for you and Jamie,” he pauses for a long moment to place down his bottle before turning to me once more, “if you would take Jamie with you.”
“Take Jamie with me?” I ask surprised, “What good would that do me?! I’ll be in charge of him to make sure he don’t get his fool head shot off! I’m sorry Dad,” I state as disappointment seems to settle into his eyes, “but I am no babysitter.”
“I am not asking you to baby sit your brother! He’s old enough to take care of himself and he has been with the police long enough to defend for himself!” my dad is quick to throw back, giving me accusatory look, as if to say I am being selfish, “Look you know damn well that out of all of us, he has taken Joe’s death the hardest. In fact, it was him who researched his murder and made justice be served to Joe’s killers! That alone should show you he is skilled enough to handle himself!” he takes another long drink of his beer, “He has gone through a lot Danny. First Joe gets killed on duty and then last year his own partner, Vinny, was shot and killed! Heck, Vinny died in Jamie’s arms!
“Look, all I am saying, is that Jamie is going through a lot right now. He may not come out and say it to you or me, but as his father, I can tell he is having a hard time handling it. And as the police commissioner, think it would help him if he were to have a break from New York City and this case of your’s seems to give him that opportunity. He can go and help you and Baez and see how the big boys do it,” he goes silent as he watches me, waiting for me to object to his favor.
“So it will help Jamie,” I slowly speak up, hesitant to incriminate myself any farther, “but how will it help me? You said it would be best for both of us.”
He nods as if in understanding. “Fair enough question,” he slowly states, “you and him has always had a hard time seeing eye to eye on things. Getting along. Joe helped you two out a lot to get along and to understand each other. And well, without him, you don’t have that bridge to help you. Perhaps this trip. This case will help with that.”
I give a small laugh. “I think Linda said the same thing shortly after we arrested those murderers who killed Joe,” I slowly admit.
“Well, Linda is right,” my dad states, “as I said, this wasn’t Jamie’s idea and in fact, he had argued against it when I brought it up to him.”
I sigh heavily. “Are you asking as the police commissioner or as my dad?”
“Jamie asked the same thing and I will tell you the same as I did him,” he pauses as the creak of the floor boards brings our attention to the living room where we find my youngest brother, Jamie standing there watching us. Looking back at me, my dad says, “I am asking as both.”
“So in other words,” I say with a half smile, “you are not asking, you are ordering me take that thing with us.”
“That thing is your brother,” my dad answers, “and I guess you can say that.”
“Well get packing, I’ll be here at five thirty to pick you up,” I say to my brother before turning to my dad, “thanks for the beer. I better get home to Linda and the boys so we can have at least a little time together.”