CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

"Well," Michael said, "looks like it's Roman's lucky day."

Faith pulled in behind the pickup truck parked across the street from a worn-down bungalow that backed up to the small mountain range just west of the city. Garvey pulled her cruiser behind them.

It was generous to call it a mountain range. Just a few hills, really, where Garvey informed the agents that hunters would come to practice their aim and fine-tune their weapons.

Garvey ran the license plate and, a moment later, confirmed that the truck was Ciccolo's. "Okay, "she said, "we're in business."

Faith looked up at the bungalow, barely visible in the fading light. "We should hurry," she said. "I don't mean to further mess with your protocol, Detective, but this might be an ask questions later scenario."

As if to punctuate Faith's point, a scream pierced the night. Instantly the four humans: Faith, Michael, Garvey and a uniform she had brought with her, and Turk sprinted up the path to the bungalow.

As they ran, Faith drew her weapon. She felt bile rise in her throat. For the first time in her career, she hoped she didn't have to use her weapon on a suspect. Not that she normally enjoyed shooting criminals, but she didn't usually feel bad about it.

She would feel bad if she had to use it now. Eric wasn't innocent. She knew that, but it was hard to think of him as guilty either. What had he done except avenge innocent dogs and innocent people by ridding the city of a few lowlifes?

She knew that was a dangerous mindset to have, but the fact remained that a part of Faith hoped they would find Gaucho already dead when they made it inside.

That turned out not to be the case. Turk, of course, reached the building before they did. Faith heard loud barking and another shriek. Then she and the other three sprinted into the bungalow.

Ciccolo was there, wearing his wolf mask and holding a shock collar in his left hand. His right hand held a handgun, but he wasn't aiming at Turk or the officers. He was aiming it at the cowering, prostrate form of Gaucho. When the agents walked in, he turned his weapon to them, then back to Gaucho. The hesitation allowed the officers to spread out and cover Ciccolo with their own weapons.

Gaucho turned wide eyes toward his rescuers. His eyes widened even further when he saw Michael. Then they narrowed in anger. " Pinche pendejo!" he shouted. "Screw you, Mike! This is your fault!"

"You keep telling yourself that," Michael said drily.

"Eric Ciccolo," Garvey said, leveling her weapon at Eric and approaching slowly while the other officer flanked him. "You're under arrest. Put the weapon down and put your hands in the air."

Ciccolo looked at the approaching officers while Turk and Faith flanked the other side and Micheal joined Garvey in the middle. Then he looked back at Gaucho. His fingers tightened around the trigger, and Turk jumped in between the two criminals.

"No!" Faith cried.

But Eric didn't shoot at Turk. Instead, he lifted his handgun and aimed at a point above Garvey and Michael's head. He fired three quick bursts.

Faith looked up just in time to see one of the light fixtures start to fall. "Watch out!" she shouted.

Michael and Garvey looked up and jumped backward at the last possible second. The uniform, shocked by the sudden collapse, took his focus off of Eric, and the big man slammed a meaty fist into his temple. The officer went out cold, his gun clattering across the floor.

Gaucho tried to take advantage of the commotion. He got to his feet and started for the exit, but Michael reached him first, grabbing his shoulders and throwing him to the ground. "Uh uh," he said, "you're under arrest too, buddy."

"You're not my buddy!" Gaucho shouted as he writhed ineffectually underneath Michael's knee.

"You're still under arrest," Michael said, wrenching the criminal's left arm around and clapping handcuffs onto his wrist.

While Michael dealt with Gaucho and Garvey assisted her fallen officer, Faith and Turk rushed after Eric. The big man moved with surprising agility, leaping over a counter and vaulting through an open window.

Faith cursed and sprinted for the front door, knowing she would lose him if she tried the direct route. She needed to get to flat ground and flank him. Turk followed easily, though, and by the time Faith came back to the side of the building, he had cornered Eric.

Eric kept running, and for a terrifying moment, Faith thought he was going to kick Turk. Instead, he leapt over the dog, showing surprising dexterity for a man his size.

Turk hesitated, probably just as shocked as Faith was. That allowed Eric time to leap into a shallow crevice and sprint toward the mountain. Turk leaped after him, and Eric leaped out of the crevice. Turk followed and he jumped into the crevice again, keeping Turk occupied so the dog couldn't catch up to him.

Faith sprinted on the outside of the crevice and shouted ahead to Turk. "Stay inside!"

Turk looked back, confused by the command, and Eric dove behind a boulder. Faith skidded to a halt, knowing that Eric would be waiting for her behind the rock, gun drawn.

Turk didn't stop. He barked and ran toward the boulder, believing he had his prey quarried.

"Turk!" Faith shouted. "Stop!"

Turk did stop. Right behind the boulder. He snarled and snapped, but backed away as he did so, watching Eric warily.

Faith couldn't see behind the rock, but she knew Turk was watching Eric's weapon. She sprinted forward, no longer caring for her own safety. "Eric, don't you dare hurt my dog!"

She skidded to a stop behind the boulder and saw Eric pointing his weapon at Turk. His face wrestled with his decision, and Faith could see his hands shake slightly as he aimed the handgun at her dog.

Faith leveled her handgun at Eric and slowly circled until she was in his field of vision. "Be smart about this, Eric. There's four of us and one of you, and we have a dog. I know you're not a bad man. I know you aren't going to hurt innocent people who are just doing their jobs. Francisco Jimenez is being placed under arrest and will be charged with animal cruelty."

Eric looked at her then back at Turk. His hand tightened around his weapon.

Faith kept her hands steady and said, "I know you won't hurt my dog either, Eric. That's not you."

Eric looked back at Faith, then at Turk. Then he relaxed slightly. "You're right, agent," he called. "I won't. I'm going to lower my weapon now. I'm done."

Faith kept her handgun trained on Eric until the big man lowered his handgun then backed away, his hands in the air. Normally, she would keep a weapon on the suspect until he was handcuffed, but she knew that wasn't necessary this time. She holstered her weapon and walked to Eric.

Eric was compliant, as she knew he would be. He allowed her to cuff him, and she was grateful that his compliance allowed her to be gentle.

"Would you mind removing my mask?" he asked. "It's hot as blazes out here, and since you know who I am, there's no point in wearing it anymore."

"Sure," Faith said.

She carefully removed the mask, and Eric sighed with relief. "Thank you, agent," he said. He looked down at Turk, who had also calmed considerably now that the suspect was apprehended. "You have a good dog there," he said, "very well-trained. A lot of K9s would have attacked me in that scenario, but he held me and waited for your command. That's very impressive."

Faith smiled at Turk. "He is a good dog."

The door opened again, and the three of them turned to see the uniform leading a protesting Gaucho down the path to the cruiser. Garvey and Michael approached them, holstering their weapons when they saw the situation under control.

When Garvey arrived, Eric said, "I'm sorry about your officer. I hope I didn't hurt him too badly."

His tone carried no hint of sarcasm, and Faith felt another pang at the knowledge that she would have to jail this man.

"He'll be fine," Garvey said with a wry smile. "He's not too happy with you right now. That's why I sent him down with Jimenez."

Eric lowered his head and nodded. "Yeah. I don't blame him." He lifted his head and looked at Michael. "Thank you," he said, "all of you. For stopping that dogfighting ring. I don't know if I would have been able to get to all of them. Definitely not before a lot more dogs were killed."

Faith didn't know what to say. Garvey seemed equally at a loss.

Fortunately, Turk and Michael had an idea. Michael met Eric's eyes and said, "It was my pleasure."

Turk walked to Eric and pressed against his leg, looking up at him with the sympathetic brown eyes that had won Faith's heart more than two years ago. Eric looked down at him and smiled. The pain behind that smile brought tears to Faith's eyes.

"What's his name?" Eric asked.

"Turk," Faith replied.

"Turk," Eric repeated. "Good boy, Turk."

***

Faith wasn't sure what to say. Normally, when she interviewed killers after apprehending them, she would ask them why they did what they did. This time, she knew exactly why Eric Ciccolo killed those men.

In the end, Eric spoke first. "I had a Shepherd too. She was a Husky mix, but only twelve percent. All she got from that side was the blue eyes and a love of snow." He grinned. "I took her to Aspen once. The only time she ever disobeyed me was when I told her it was time to leave. She pretended not to hear me until I walked right up to her and gave her the parental, ‘I know you heard me' look. God, she was a great dog. She wasn't officially mine, of course. I just kept an eye on her when she or her handler was on vacation. That wasn't really allowed, but they made an exception for me. I used to train a lot of dogs for PD. But you know that, I guess."

Faith smiled sadly. "I'm sorry for your loss. I almost lost Turk too."

Eric nodded sympathetically. "I'm glad you didn't. It's the worst thing in the world, short of losing a child. Maybe not everyone sees it that way, but I do." He shook his head. "I don't get it. I don't understand people who hurt dogs. Dogs are the most wonderful creatures on Earth. What possible entertainment do you get out of watching them die? I can understand that psychopaths exist, but the spectators?" he shook his head. "It's just obscene."

Faith couldn't agree more. "Yes," she said, "that's the right word for it."

"You know, I wasn't going to do anything about it," he said, "at first, anyway. I was just going to file the police report and leave it at that. Then I started doing some research. Did you know that over sixteen thousand dogs die each year in dog fights in the U.S. alone?"

Faith's eyes widened. "No, I didn't."

"Yep," he said, "sixteen thousand every year. It's insane. All of those dogs killed just so people can see blood. Well, I couldn't stop all of them, but I could stop some of them. I thought that maybe if people were made aware of the issue ,it might inspire them to put an end to it. I think I was just being na?ve, to be honest. People don't seem to care about anything that isn't directly affecting them."

"I've found that to be the case," Faith replied. She thought of David, who insisted that West was no more of a threat to him than he was to anyone else and willfully ignored all of Faith's protests to the contrary. She thought of Ellie, who similarly refused to leave, stubbornly holding on to the illusion of self-determination by defying a threat that she, of all people, should know was very real.

She thought of herself, who several times over the past two years had placed Turk, Michael, Gordon, the Boss and the Bureau in general at risk because of her impatience with the West case. People were born with blinders, she often thought. It was hard to remove those blinders, and when they did, it was just as hard to keep them off.

"So, do you know what happens next with me?" Eric asked.

"You'll be charged with murder," she said, "three counts felony murder and one count attempted murder. In addition, three counts trespassing, two breaking and entering, resisting arrest, assault on a peace officer, and because of the method of death, you'll get enhancements on the murders."

"Ouch," he said, "so I'm in prison for life then."

"Most likely," Faith said. "You might get some consideration for the fact that your victims were violent criminals and for the fact that your dog was killed and that prompted you down this path, but more likely than not, you'll end up in jail for the rest of your life. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he replied. "I knew this was coming. I knew it the moment I went after Harris. I made my peace with it."

Faith once more didn't know what to say. Her thoughts were at war with each other. The agent in her insisted that there was no excuse for what he had done. Murder was murder was killing someone illegally. It didn't matter what the victims had done. There were laws and processes to follow, and when you didn't follow them, bad things happened.

The human in her was very well acquainted with her own loose attitude concerning laws and processes in the past and understood precisely how someone could be willing to throw away everything for a chance at justice. There but for the grace of God go I , she thought.

"You'll end up in medium security at first," she said, "minimum after a few years of good behavior. You'll get your own room and maybe even a tv if you make nice with the right CO's. It might help to think of it as early retirement to an assisted living community."

That sounded weak to her own ears, but Eric smiled and nodded. "Yeah, that's how I'll look at it. I think you might be a little optimistic about the timeline, though. I didn't just shoot people. I shocked them to death with a collar. Unless every single one of the jurors is an avid dog lover and the judge owns a dog himself, I'll probably spend a while in max before I get an easier ride. But that's okay too. Even max has libraries. I've always been a reader. I can make it work."

For the third time in their conversation, Faith didn't know what to say. Eric looked at Turk, who sat next to Faith, sympathy in his brown eyes.

"You take care of your mommy, you hear?" he said. "She loves you very much."

A lump formed in Faith's throat. She stood and broke about a half dozen protocols when she shook Eric's hand—as much as the shackles around his wrists would allow—and said, "Good luck, Eric. I hope you find the peace you're looking for."

"I've already found it," he replied.