Chapter 51
FIFTY-ONE
This was over. At least from one perspective. From another it was just beginning. Hernandez would live another day, but he’d broken his nose when Amanda had pushed him to the ground. She was satisfied he was feeling some pain. By the time she was done, he’d be feeling a lot more.
Hernandez was taken to the hospital, but they had received the call his nose was set.
They were walking through the hallways to speak to him at eight thirty.
If she had any say in the matter, Hernandez wasn’t slipping free from the charges coming at him this time.
Nina might not face judicial charges, but she received justice in another sense.
The PWCPD emerged from the firefight with no casualties but one injury. A SWAT officer was shot, a through-and-through, but he was expected to make a full recovery. Hernandez’s men hadn’t fared as well. Those who survived required treatment for smoke inhalation and would be facing charges.
A search of Hernandez’s house had turned up a lot of unregistered guns, including an HK45.
The ballistics were still being done, but CSI Blair confirmed the 45-cal ammo Hernandez had on hand was the same brand of bullet that was retrieved from Abigail McGee’s body.
Ballistics would reveal if it had come from the collected HK45.
Nina’s blade fit the parameters of what had stabbed Paul Archer and cut out Abigail McGee’s tongue. It would be tested back at the lab to see if there was any trace evidence that could tie it to those crimes.
CSI Blair also recovered a blue shirt with a tear in the sleeve that was a visual match to the remnant found with Paul Archer’s body. She tied it back to one of Hernandez’s men.
There was no sign of the black Ford Transit, and where it came from was unknown.
It might have been torched, destroyed, taken out of town.
Imagination on its fate held no bounds. Same too for the computer and electronics taken from the Archers’ home office.
They weren’t found either and were likely long ago destroyed and discarded.
Not that any of this ultimately mattered.
The evidence they did have against Hernandez stood on its own.
Good thing, too, because none of his men were speaking out against him.
And even though it was hours later, Amanda was still working to flush images of McGee yelling at her from her mind. His words were a haunting refrain. You should have just shot me! I have nothing to live for.
It was hard to tamp that down; his pain was so visceral she felt it as her own.
And death by bullet would be friendlier than what he would face in prison.
Cops were targeted. She’d testify for McGee but wasn’t sure how much it would do.
He’d shown premeditation. She’d come to learn that McGee had heard a rumor around East Station that the PWCPD was moving in on Hernandez after 5 PM.
McGee had hung back and waited for an opportunity.
He told his arresting officer, “There was no way I was going to watch Hernandez walk for killing my Abby. I did what I had to do.”
Amanda led the way into Hernandez’s room. His lawyer, Wilson Duran, was sitting at his bedside.
Hernandez’s eyes burned through hers as she walked into the room. He shifted his gaze to Trent, who was at her side. He was wearing a nasal splint, and his cheek and forehead were bruised.
“We have you on video.” She wanted to get right to the point and get this over with. If they were back at Central, she would set out photographs extracted from his own video.
“That’s not possible,” he groaned, grimacing at his pain or at being caught? A blend of both?
“A Digital Crimes detective was able to recover deleted footage.” As she laid that out, she took immense pride in being PWCPD. “It shows you and Antonina Martini leading Abigail McGee to the back of your barn, where you shot her.”
“Even if this is true about him being with Abigail, Detective,” the lawyer began, “I haven’t heard anything to substantiate your claim that my client shot her.”
“Well, police have recovered your client’s HK45.
It will be compared to the fragments pulled from Abigail McGee, but Mr. Hernandez’s ammo is a match.
Even without that, as I said, we have him on video with an injured woman, practically dragging her off.
That alone is more than enough. We also found Valerie and Brooke.
They’re not talking though. Not saying a word. ”
Hernandez smirked. His ego was taking a bath in the fact people feared him. Or he thought their silence meant they were dead. She wanted to correct him of that illusion.
“They’re going to be all right.” She basked in sharing that news, even more when his eyes narrowed. “You look surprised, but don’t worry, they’re not talking.” She wanted to stress that point. “Why did you leave them in that well?”
The lawyer sighed dramatically. “What well, Detective? Nothing was said about a well before now.”
“How did you or your people even know about the abandoned well behind the Manning barn?” Amanda leveled at Hernandez, ignoring the lawyer.
“Who says we did?”
She should have expected denial, not that she bought it for a hot second.
Hernandez would make it his business to be familiar with his surroundings.
She wasn’t going to let his attitude weaken her position.
“Why did you put Valerie and Brooke Archer in the bottom of a well? Why not just kill them? Was it because they were rats?”
Hernandez started to smile, but a wince of pain killed the budding expression. “You were listening before. But I can only imagine whoever put them there at the bottom of that—well, you say?—did so because rats aren’t worth burials. Rats scurry around until their deaths.”
“That’s why you had them lowered down and didn’t toss them in. You didn’t want to break any bones. This wasn’t even about prolonging their physical suffering. You wanted to mess with their minds, have them feel hope that they’d get out.”
Hernandez shrugged.
This man was the devil. “The lab has confirmed blood found in the basement of your house was that of Paul Archer and Abigail McGee. You killed him in that room, or Nina had, more precisely, at your command, and sliced out Abigail’s tongue there.”
“Then you should be talking to her,” the lawyer said.
“We would, but she’s dead.” Amanda watched Hernandez for any reaction to that news, but he gave her nothing. “We know from your own words that Nina was loyal. Nina wouldn’t act of her own accord or against your orders. We all know what would happen if she did.”
“Do we, Detective?” Wilson warned. “Any of what you’re suggesting isn’t anything you can prove.”
“How did you find Abigail McGee? She was in hiding for a long time.” They had their suspicions, but it wouldn’t hurt to hear the answer directly from Hernandez. That he’d been watching her family for a while and had gotten lucky when she popped up her head to meet Valerie Archer at the coffee shop.
“Not everyone in law enforcement is honorable, Detective,” Hernandez said cooly.
Shivers tore through her. This wasn’t the response she’d expected, but she received his unspoken message. “Someone tipped you off she was in Woodbridge?”
He said nothing, but amusement lit his eyes.
“Tell us who.” Though I have my suspicions…
“Who has known her whereabouts for the last eight years?”
Shit. “Are you telling me that US Marshal Russell Holden tipped you off?”
Hernandez flailed a hand that was more confirmation than denial.
If the drug kingpin was telling them the truth, then Holden must have more recently turned corrupt. Otherwise, he would have exposed Abigail McGee’s location years ago.
“I’ve made you speechless,” Hernandez said.
Not exactly… “Why would Holden do that?”
He shrugged. “You’d have to ask him.”
It was likely that Hernandez had found his weak spot and exploited it.
Though he’d have to know who in the US Marshals’ office was handling her case.
From Judge Anderson? She shoved the traitorous thought aside, unable to stomach the possibility.
And the situation was new if it was Holden.
Possibly hinging on two weeks ago when Abigail left to meet with Valerie Archer.
Holden’s agitation with Abigail may have taken him to Hernandez.
He’d said she was problematic. Had Holden lost patience with her disappearing tricks and decided to tip off the bad guy, end his own problem?
Or had he needed money and saw an opportunity to make some from Hernandez for information on Abigail’s whereabouts?
But then why not sell her out by pointing to her safe house? For easier deniability?
Amanda squared her posture. “We will. In the meantime, we have a solid case against you, Mr. Hernandez. The video of you with a murdered woman moments before her death is indisputable. The blood in that house belonging to Paul Archer, alongside Abigail McGee’s, implicates you as a coconspirator in his murder, as well as being involved in the abduction of Valerie and Brooke Archer.
You are facing two charges of murder and four charges of abduction.
” That included the holding of Abigail McGee before her murder.
“You’d better get yourself ready, Mr. Hernandez.
You’re headed to prison this time, and it will be for the rest of your natural life.
” Amanda turned to leave but not before catching the glare in Hernandez’s eyes.
“Detective Steele,” Hernandez said, stopping her in her steps. “Yes, go. You’ll want to get home to that little girl of yours.”
She spun around and had a grip on the neck of his gown in seconds. “You stay away from her, or I swear to you—”
“Detective,” Trent barked, breaking the spell of rage she was under.
She let go of Hernandez and ran from the room with her phone to her ear.