Page 21 of Fatal Strike
Jon nodded. “We’ll see if he offers solid intel. I need to work harder at gaining his confidence.”
And Leah needed a fast-track course on how Jon processed info.
14
JON’S BODY REQUIRED ONLYa few hours’ sleep to function, and not all at the same time. Sniper missions and working organized crime were easier to accomplish with his erratic sleep pattern. As a kid, his sleep habits drove his parents crazy. To keep him inside the house, they added a lock at his dad’s height—until Jon used a chair to reach it at 3a.m. one night.
Tonight, after he finished his mental moment-by-moment replay of the hostage situation, he sat at the kitchen table of his farmhouse and pored over the ongoing reports of the three murders. The victims were too closely connected to be random, but how did they fit into the Venenos’ operation? While Jon considered theorizing for the rest of the night, he needed more intel to understand a gang that used a precise method to kill three distinct people who’d sworn to uphold the law.
What did the three-day span mean? A tactic to frighten the people of Galveston? Had the victims stumbled onto something that got them killed? Were more at risk? The three victims had been alone when abducted, obviously stalked before execution. Premeditated murder.
He logged into the FBI secure site and studied Ian Greer’s file. Married with two children. Active in the community. Outstanding officer with several commendations. Greer wasn’t a member of St. Peter’s, but he and Judge Mendez had gone to high school and college together. His body had been found Sunday morning by fishermen on the east side of the island.
Marcia Trevelle had an excellent record as a prosecuting attorney. Single, lived alone. Mentored at-risk middle grade girls. From her home alarm data, she’d left work on Monday and never returned. Her body was found at a construction site by the GPD in response to an anonymous call. Her car hadn’t been located.
Jon reviewed Judge Nicolás Mendez’s file. Nothing new in the investigation since the meeting at the FBI office. Jon skimmed rulings and cases for the past eighteen months in search of names, charges, convictions, sentences, and commonalities. The judge’s strict interpretation of the law made defense attorneys cringe and set him up as a target for offenders, but were other law enforcement and judicial persons who worked tirelessly to protect citizens on a kill list? Would other officials back off and subsequent rulings show leniency until the Venenos were stopped? Did the killers think they had their bases covered?
Finding Dylan Ortega would be a boost for their side. So would locating the Mustang or getting a lead through DNA left behind. Maybe test results would show the blood on the judge’s knuckles wasn’t his own but his assailant’s.
Jon dug deeper for information about Father Gabriel and his community work. The man had been a positive influence in many lives, and Jon commended him for his sacrificial efforts. Prison ministries, rehabilitation programs, health needs, and family counseling contributed to channeling lawbreakers in the right direction. But did he realize gang members could offer lip service to God while their lifestyle was still full of toxins?
Father Gabriel arranged for those assigned to court-ordered community service from Judge Mendez’s office to work off their hours at St. Peter’s. A little more research and Dylan’s name popped up. Judge Mendez had instructed him to complete 150 hours of community service on top of his jail time. Jon sent a request to the FIG and copied Leah. In addition to all members with a record, Jon wanted a list of every person from Mendez’s court who had done community service at St. Peter’s church.
An email from earlier in the day garnered his attention, and he noted the sender. He’d rather hit Delete than dive into personal stuff. The message was from the widow of a good friend ... Hanson. Hard memories refused to let him go, and just when he thought he’d licked it, bits of Hanson and Chip plodded across his mind and heart.
Face it. The truth will never let you go.
He clicked on the email.
Jon,
It’s late but I wanted to thank you for little Jon’s birthday present, except he’s not so little anymore. Ateleven years old, he’s shooting up like a cornstalk in summer. You were far too generous, and he loves the drone. As you recommended in his birthday card, he spent hours reading the instructions and watching the recommended YouTube clips for more information.Heasked to send you a thank-you email, but I need your permission first.
Hope all goes well with you. We’re good here. School starts for me in one week, and little Jon starts the next.
I’m seeing a man from my church. He’s a widower. It’s getting a little serious. We’re both scared and stepping out in faith. Jon adores him—almost as much as he loves you.
And you? Are you saving lives by risking your own? My dear Jon and Hanson. True heroes.
We miss you and pray for you. When will you be in Illinois?
Love,
Claire
Jon scrolled down through the email to a pic of Jon, his namesake. The red-haired, freckle-faced boy held up the assembled drone and grinned into the camera. Looking at the familiar dark-blue eyes, so dark they looked black, and the thick red hair brought back images of Hanson. The man looked at life and laughed. Preacher Hanson, the others called him. The one man who’d shown Jon what faith in God meant by living it. No matter what knocked him to his knees, he got back up. Defied danger. Except for the last time.
Jon shoved aside the acid roiling in his stomach. If Claire could take a bold step, he could too.
Hi Claire,
Thanks for the birthday pic of Jon. Hanson lives on in your son. Please give little Jon my email address. He can write anytime he wants.
Claire, I’m no hero, but I am fulfilled with my role in the organized gang division and as a SWAT sniper. Livesare saved. I’ve never told you what my job involves, but it’s more about gathering information and observing situations so a problem can be solved without loss of life. I wouldn’t want little Jon to think I shoot people foraliving.
Glad you’re looking to the future. I need to meet this guy. :) I’m on a mission, but as soon as it’s over, I’ll plan a trip your way.
I’m not seeing anyone. Well, my new partner is a woman. But two snipers? Two typeA personalities? Ithink we’d kill each other. I can hear Hanson making funof me.
