Tim Green - Above the Law

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, incidents, and dialogue, except for incidental references to public figures, products, or services, are imaginary and are not intended to refer to any living persons or to disparage any companys products or services.

Copyright 2009 by Tim Green

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Grand Central Publishing

Hachette Book Group

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New York, NY 10017

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First eBook Edition: February 2009

Grand Central Publishing is a division of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

The Grand Central Publishing name and logo is a trademark of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

ISBN: 978-0-446-54408-5

ALSO BY TIM GREEN

Fiction

Ruffians

Titans

Outlaws

The Red Zone

Double Reverse

The Letter of the Law

The Fourth Perimeter

The Fifth Angel

The First 48

Exact Revenge

Kingdom Come

American Outrage

Nonfiction

The Dark Side of the Game

A Man and His Mother: An Adopted Sons Search

Books for Kids

Football Genius

Football Hero

For my love, Illyssa

With each book I write, there are many people who help with essential steps along the way, and I would like to thank them.

Esther Newberg, the worlds greatest agent and my dear friend, for her wisdom. Ace Atkins, my dependable, brilliant, and talented friend, for his careful reading and fantastic ideas. Jamie Raab, my publisher, and Jaime Levine, my editor, who polished this story with unmatched insight and creativity. As well as all my friends at Grand Central Publishing, beginning with our leader, David Young, Chris Barba and the best sales team in the world, Emi Battaglia, Karen Torres, Flamur Tonuzi, Martha Otis, Jim Spivey, and Mari Okuda.

My parents, Dick and Judy Green, who taught me to read and to love books and who spent many hours scouring this manuscript so that it shines.

A special thanks to Dr. Kathleen Corrado and Katherine Unger at the Onondaga County Medical Examiners Office for their insight into crime scene DNA; Deputy Chief Michael Kerwin, the good cop whos been with me from the beginning; fellow officer Kevin Murphy for his assistance with gangs; Marc Harrold, Tommy Rosser, and Rehien Babaoglu for their insights into immigration law; Onondaga County District Attorney William Fitzpatrick for his friendship and guidance; Tim DeMore for his expertise in civil procedure; and Mike OConnor of the US Border Patrol, who helps keep us all safe.

CHAPTER

H EADLIGHTS CREPT UP THE WALL BEFORE JETTING ACROSS the ceiling and blinking out. Elijandro stiffened at the familiar purr of the engine and clatter of rocks off the undercarriage as the white Range Rover descended the hillside lane. He left the sagging bed and the warmth of his young wifes body, skirted past the crib, and eased open the front door, letting himself out into the dark of predawn.

Elijandro clutched himself and stepped gingerly across the dirt yard until he stood shivering beside the Range Rover. The hills and the thick clouds above glowed in the orange flare from some distant lightning. Damp ozone floated on the small breeze. The new leaves on the lone willow tree shifted restlessly and the window hummed down, muffled now by the rumble of the approaching front. White teeth shone out at Elijandro, but the spade-cut smile and the familiar face of not the wife, but her husband and his boss, staggered him.

You come good to the call, his boss said, grinning like a mask.

The call? Elijandro said.

Like a tom turkey, the boss said, grinning, then clucking like a hen with a puck, puck, puck. The sound of this Range Rover. The sound of my wife.

Elijandro stuttered until the boss interrupted.

Screw her. Get your camo on, Ellie, he said. Kurt said you put a flock to bed in the oaks out on Jessups Knob and there was a big bird in with them. That right?

Elijandro nodded eagerly and could see now that the boss wore camouflage from the neck down.

Then lets go get his ass, the boss said. From the passenger seat he raised a bottle of Jack Daniels and took a good slug before smacking the cork home with the palm of his hand.

Elijandro peered at the western sky. Rain coming.

So well get wet, the boss said. Birdll come to the call rain or shine. Lightning gets em excited. Go on.

Elijandro turned for the tenant house, scratching the stubble on his head, hopping barefoot through the stones, picking his way until he reached the porch.

The house had been built along with two dozen other shacks for migrant workers some sixty years ago. Like them, it sagged wearily under its rumpled tin roof, propped up off the dirt and more or less leveled on four cinder-block stacks. Being drenched in weather and heat for all those years had rendered each of the houses gray and had shrunken the slat-board siding like an old mans bones. Unlike the others, theirs squatted in the lowland by the Trinity River, where cattle inevitably got bogged down in the muck and had from time to time to be roped and dragged free with a mule. The bosss father was the one who had this shack sledged away from the company of its brethren by a team back in 67. By tradition, the place went to the top Mexican, a worker trusted enough to quickly shepherd the livestock free from the muck as soon as they began to bray and before they could do harm to themselves.

With a trembling hand, Ellie scrawled a note to his wife saying hed be back from the hunt by breakfast. Quickly, he removed his camo gear from its nail, slipping it on before he scooped up his shotgun and grabbed the turkey vest, which clattered to the floor, lumpy and awkward from pockets filled by turkey calls and shotgun shells. He bent for it, and when he rose up he saw comets of light in the corners of his vision. His heart hadnt stopped pounding since he saw the bosss face.

Ellie jogged out to the Range Rover, climbing into the passenger seat and smelling the familiar scent of its fine leather and somewhere the hint of her favorite perfume. His boss reversed the SUV out to the main track and headed up the hill, then ran the ridge before dipping down into the rivers wash, across a steel bridge, and up the other bank, talking all the while about his wife being a dirty slut who didnt deserve a Range Rover and slurring his words until the SUV came to rest at the bottom of a field plowed for corn.

His boss killed the engine and the two of them sat listening to it tick down to nothing while the boss turned a shotgun shell end over end with his manicured fingers.

Ellie watched and waited until he could stand it no more. He pointed up the field toward the wooded ridge and said, Them birds are up on top.

His boss smiled funny at him and got out. They eased the Range Rovers doors closed. Elijandro let the silence of predawn settle on them for a moment before he cleared his throat, cupped a hand to his mouth, and let fly the low sonorous call of a barred owl. Nothing came back at them but the echo of his call as it bounced away between the low hills.

Elijandro eyed the eastern sky. A line, pale yellow and flush with the horizon, had begun to melt away the ink of night to a navy blue promising day. The storm would come from the other side of the knob, where the flicker of lightning continued to illuminate the oncoming clouds.