Home Invasion - J. A. Johnstone [8]
He said, “I don’t think there’s any question that’s what happened. The two guys are both Hispanic, no I.D.s, probably drove up from the border just to rob somebody. My guess is that they were after Mr. McNamara’s guns. There’s a constant need for weapons in the cartels.”
“You think these two are part of a cartel?”
“There’s not much free-lance crime in Mexico anymore except the really low-level stuff. The cartels are like feudal kingdoms in medieval Europe, always at war with each other. There’s no effective centralized power in the country anymore.”
Delgado came out with stuff like that that would surprise you if you didn’t know that he had a history degree from the University of Texas. The academic world didn’t really appeal to him, though. He preferred being a cop.
A couple of EMTs maneuvered a gurney out of the hall and into the living room. The man strapped onto it appeared to be unconscious. Some of his clothes had been cut away, and bloodstained bandages were wrapped around his shoulder and leg in their place.
“This one’s going to the hospital, Chief,” one of the ambulance men said to Alex.
“Is he going to make it?”
“Don’t know, but my guess is yes. He lost a lot of blood, but we’ve got him stabilized right now. Have to wait and see.”
Alex nodded and said, “Thanks,” as they wheeled out the wounded burglar. She gestured to Delgado. “Go with them. Don’t let the son of a bitch out of your sight.”
“You got it, Chief. “ Delgado followed the gurney out of the house.
Alex took a deep breath to steady herself. It didn’t help much because there was still a faint reek of gunfire in the air. Waiting wouldn’t make it any better, so she stepped over to the hall and looked down it.
She saw the bullet holes in the wall between the den and the hall, her brain automatically noting their location. When the crime scene team from the sheriff’s department got here, those holes and all the rest of the physical evidence would be documented with digital photographs and video.
Alex’s eyes were drawn to the blanket-shrouded figure lying on the floor of the hall. The EMTs had draped that blanket over Inez McNamara because there was nothing they could do for her other than protect her from the indignity of having people stare at her.
Alex walked over to the body and knelt beside it. She didn’t want to, but she forced herself to lift the blanket. Inez’s face was gray. The color of life was long gone. From the looks of it, she had been hit twice by bullets coming through the wall, Alex thought, but it could have been more than that. The autopsy would tell for sure.
After carefully replacing the blanket, Alex stood and went to the open door of the den. Since the EMTs had left with the wounded man, nobody was in here except the dead burglar. He sat propped against one of Pete McNamara’s gun cabinets, his arms hanging loose at his sides and his head lolled forward over his blood-soaked chest. The high-caliber automatic weapon, some sort of foreign make, lay on the carpet near his right hand.
Alex put the sequence of events together, replaying them in her mind’s eye as if she had witnessed them the first time around.
Pete or Inez or both of them hear a noise in the house. Pete gets the .45 and comes to check. Probably he tells Inez to wait in the bedroom while he takes a look around, but Inez being Inez, she follows him anyway. He surprises the burglars in the den, everybody starts shooting, the bullets go through the wall, Pete puts both of the burglars down….
Then turns to find his wife dying on the floor behind him.
Watching where she stepped to make sure she didn’t disturb any evidence, Alex moved across the den to the dead man and again hunkered on her heels to study him, as she had with Inez out in the hall.
Definitely just two wounds on this one,