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  Praise for

  Path to Justice

  “Nick Drummond…a droll, middle-aged jazz aficionado…works as a prosecutor for the California [A]ttorney [G]eneral [and is] head of a money-laundering task force…A literally explosive first chapter leads into a lengthy flashback that introduces much information and many characters well. Characterizations are intricately detailed and realistic, especially for Drummond, who, when the text begins, has already been tossed out of his home for being a workaholic…Background information on such diverse topics as Glacier National Park, criminal law, authentic Italian cooking, the Holocaust, police procedures, and Father Damien’s Hawaiian leper colony is subtly woven into the text, adding an educational aspect…Brisk, jaunty dialogue adds another dimension to the book’s relationships…In this fast-paced and serious drama, just the right amount of humor is injected in just the right spots…Path to Justice follows a harrowing case from its beginnings to its conclusion in an absorbing way, providing a behind-the-scenes picture of the personalities who work diligently on the side of justice.”

  —Clarion Review

  “A San Diego prosecutor puts together a case against top leaders of a new but menacing drug cartel in Dutton’s debut legal thriller…A hero who audaciously takes on bad guys, whether in court or out in the field.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “No one is above the law in this jargon-heavy legal thriller from former California prosecutor Jim Dutton, who relies on his own experience for realism…There’s a solid action thriller here…”

  —blueink review

  “Career prosecutor Jim Dutton investigated and tried complex international drug, money laundering and fraud cases in federal court. Path to Justice reveals, in a compelling fashion, how a case against an international drug cartel is prosecuted.”

  —Gary Schons, former Chief of the Criminal section of the San Diego Office of the California Attorney General

  “Career prosecutor Drummond and his task force follow a path to justice on their own terms, no matter the consequences. The action and insights into the criminal justice system build throughout. A must read for true crime and legal thriller aficionados.”

  —Bill Salisbury, former U.S. Navy SEAL commander, former prosecutor, and co-author of 41 Seconds to Freedom: an Insider’s Account of the Lima Hostage Crisis

  “Path to Justice combines scintillating action and well-developed characters in a riveting legal thriller that exposes the reader to the real criminal justice system.”

  —Gary Mitchell, former prosecutor and criminal defense attorney

  “I worked with Jim Dutton for several years. Many of the investigation and courtroom incidents in Path to Justice are derived from his actual experiences. The investigative techniques, case strategies, and courtroom portrayals are authentic.”

  —Barry Klein, former career prosecutor

  PATH TO

  JUSTICE

  Jim Dutton

  AuthorHouse™

  1663 Liberty Drive

  Bloomington, IN 47403

  www.authorhouse.com

  Phone: 1 (800) 839-8640

  © 2017 Jim Dutton. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

  Published by AuthorHouse 04/13/2018

  ISBN: 978-1-5462-0351-3 (sc)

  ISBN: 978-1-5462-0350-6 (hc)

  ISBN: 978-1-5462-0349-0 (e)

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2017912507

  Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

  and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

  Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

  Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Epilogue

  My Thanks and Gratitude To

  CHAPTER ONE

  Pato had been busy the last ten days. He had an army surplus Humvee brought up to El Paso that the cartel kept in central Mexico. He arranged for a rocket launcher that the Baja Norte Familia had stored in their munitions warehouse in El Paso to be transported to the team he put together in Topeka. At the warehouse, they mounted a fifty caliber machine gun onto the center of the modified Humvee and covered the back with metal framed canvas. The cartel’s weapons and munitions had come from different sources, mostly from arms dealers, but some from military base thefts. The operations team wasn’t difficult to put together. Franco, one of the cartel’s weapons experts, would be there to ensure the weapons performed without mishap. He wouldn’t be part of the actual assault. The actual shooters were young, but experienced. They had been recruited at age 15 by another cartel and had been Familia soldiers for three years. They were paid well and killed without remorse. They knew how to operate a 50 caliber machine gun and a rocket launcher. Both had used them in the field against the cartel’s enemies in Mexico. The driver was older. He’d been a Familia soldier, but had moved on to become the personal driver for the cartel heads. There was nothing he didn’t know about driving vehicles in the most dangerous circumstances. Pato would also be there, to oversee the operation.

  Pato flew to Topeka from San Diego on Saturday, using his attorney Lorenzo identification. He’d gotten the word late Friday that the prosecution planned to call their key witness, Felicia, the former girlfriend of defendant Luis Hernandez-Lopez, to the stand on Tuesday. After an 18- month investigation, it was the first week of trial against the three heads of the Familia drug cartel. It was lucky Pato had everything in place. His surveillance team had been following Felicia from her safe house to her dental hygienist school and back, every day. He had instructed them to let him know immediately if there was any sign of her preparing to leave. The only visitor Felicia had at her home was a young black woman, who drove a car that had to be government issue. It was a boring white sedan, two years old, nothing that the hip looking visitor would have bought on her own. Pato assumed the woman was Felicia’s handler, most likely a Deput
y U.S. Marshal. Pato knew that the team probably had until Sunday night to send their dramatic message. Pato believed the government would fly Felicia to San Diego on Monday. If she left in a car with a suitcase before Monday, the surveillance team was ordered to take her out in a standard car shooting. It would not be nearly as dramatic as what Luis had ordered, but Felicia had to be stopped from testifying at trial.

  Deputy U.S. Marshal Lily Perkins got out of her white sedan in front of Felicia’s home on Saturday afternoon. Felicia was in the backyard, enjoying the sunshine, on the warmer than usual January day. She was rocking herself to sleep on a hammock, reading a hygienist textbook. Lily let herself in with a duplicate key and gently shook Felicia awake. “I just made plane reservations for us. We leave early Monday morning on a direct flight to San Diego. ICE Special Agent Ana Schwartz from the Money Laundering Task Force will be arriving early evening on Sunday. She will fly with us to San Diego.”

  “Good, I like Ana. She understands how difficult this is for me. I trust her with my life. She saved it once.”

  “We’ll take good care of you. You can only be safe when we get Luis and the other two heads of the cartel convicted. Then, you’ll no longer be a threat to them.”

  “I understand that now. I’m willing to go to San Diego. But I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe. I still wake up in a cold sweat, dreaming of bullets flying over me, face down on my aunt’s concrete driveway. I wake up terrorized, just when I know the next spray of bullets will hit me.”

  “In time, the nightmares will recede. We’ll get you psychiatric counseling after the trial to help put this behind you.”

  “Thanks Lily. Enough about me. Did your boyfriend pop the question?”

  “He did. Look at my ring. Isn’t it gorgeous? Who knew that an elementary teacher had an heirloom diamond in the family. I’m bringing Chinese take out for dinner tomorrow and we’ll celebrate. Hopefully, Ana will arrive in time for dessert. I’m staying with you tomorrow night and I’ll drive us to the airport on Monday morning.”

  Pato met with his team in his Best Western hotel room. Refugio and Raul, the two shooters, were fidgeting on the couch. Refugio was a big man, with a thick neck and broad shoulders. Raul was slender and looked like a hawk, with piercing eyes. Raul did the talking for both of them. Raul told Pato that Refugio would be shooting the rocket launcher and he’d handle the mounted 50 caliber machine gun. Felipe, the driver, sat quietly at a small desk, taking it all in. Pato asked his weapons’ man, Franco, “What can the launcher do?”

  “I’ve checked out both the launcher and the machine gun. They needed a bit of a tune up. Now, they’re in excellent condition. I wouldn’t want to be in that little three bedroom house.”

  “You don’t have to be, Franco, unless you continue to not answer my direct question. Don’t ever forget that this operation was ordered by Luis. He wants the traitorous bitch Felicia to die a fiery and dramatic death.”

  Franco knew Luis was a sociopath and did not want to cross him in any way. So, he said, “We’ve a Russian RPG-7V2 rocket propelled, reusable, shoulder rocket launcher. We’re using PG 7V1, 93mm heat rocket warheads. The rockets are launched from the firing tube by a gunpowder booster charge. The rocket motor ignites 10 meters after it exits the launch tube and can hit a target at least 500 meters away. Three rockets will penetrate the 1,000 square foot home, completely destroy it, and leave it burned to the ground. Refugio will be wearing a fire retardant, padded vest and neck garment, which will protect him from the heat discharged from the weapon. Refugio will be located to the side and back of the mounted machine gun. Raul, to the front and side of Refugio, won’t be injured by any recoil blast by the launcher.”

  “Thank you Franco, much better. Felipe, take me through the driving protocol and the switch out to the getaway car.”

  “I’ve arranged an exit vehicle, a nondescript, late model Camry, parked two blocks from the target site. It’ll be across from the vacant lot where we’ll dispose of the Humvee.”

  “Take me through it Felipe, step by step.”

  “Early evening, around 7:00, the Humvee will approach the target home. Surveillance has shown that the neighborhood is quiet around that time, especially on a Sunday night. People are watching television or having Sunday dinner. We strip back the canvas, and Raul starts firing his 50 caliber bullets though the front of the home. This will get Felicia’s attention and the agent’s attention, if she’s there. These bullets are armor piercing and will easily go through the wooden front door and the stucco. If Felicia tries to escape, she’ll be mowed down. After the initial machine gun burst, Refugio will shoot the first rocket into the middle of the house. That will ignite a portion of the house. He’ll reload and fire two more rockets into the house. The house will be in flames and no one inside will be alive at that time. The whole operation should take about a minute. I drive the Humvee to the vacant lot, two blocks away, and we torch it, leaving the rocket launcher and machine gun inside. There’ll be no trace evidence in the vehicle. Refugio will shed his flame retarded vest into the Humvee before it’s torched. We will get into the Camry and drive slowly away.”

  “How long to torch the vehicle?”

  “No more than 30 seconds. I douse it with gasoline from a can stored in the Camry, light it and we’re gone.”

  “Should we be worried about police response time Felipe?”

  “No Pato. The closest police station is three miles away. This is a quiet residential neighborhood that is seldom patrolled by the cops, especially on Sunday evenings. We should be driving away in the Camry within three minutes of Raul first firing the machine gun.”

  “Excellent. I’ll be down the block from Felicia’s home, in my rented Volvo. I wouldn’t want to miss the fireworks.”

  After the team left, Pato had plenty of time to shower, and put on a silk suit, donning his Lorenzo personality for his dinner date with the waitress he had met on an earlier trip searching for Felicia. Pato hoped Mary Ellen had something more dressy than the cutoff jeans and gingham blouse she wore as a waitress at the barbecue joint. She seemed excited about going to the Blue Moose Bar and Grill. Pato always enjoyed mixing business and pleasure. The thought of razing Felicia’s home excited him.

  Mary Ellen did not disappoint. The butt-hugging, strapless red dress, was a promise to Pato of things to come. Her blond hair fell over her bare shoulders, the ends caressing the back of her scarlet dress. He escorted her into the restaurant and they were seated in a quiet corner as he had requested. They started with a pitcher of sangria. Pato expounded about his make-believe homeland—having tapas and cocktails off Madrid’s main square, promenading with others around the cobblestone streets of the old part of the city before eating roast pork at Ernest Hemingway’s favorite restaurant. Pato thought, Americans love the Hemingway twist. A Farewell to Arms seemed to be required reading at all the high schools. Pato graciously, in European custom, ordered for Mary Ellen, whom he was now calling Maria Elena. He ordered her lemon chicken saltimboca, a chicken breast stuffed with spinach and cheese and wrapped with prosciutto and sage. It gave him a chance to enthrall her with his favorite foreign city, Roma. He promised her he would take her to the Trevi Fountain one day. Just before dawn, they would walk through the narrow streets and turn the corner to the small Trevi square. No tourists would be there. It would just be the two of them and God, as they tossed coins in the fountain together to ensure their return to Roma. She would be Audrey Hepburn to his Gregory Peck in Roman Holiday. Pato had to explain to Maria Elena who they were. But she loved it when she heard Audrey Hepburn played a princess in the film. Pato could not believe how many American women fell for his bullshit. It made him smile inside.

  Pato took Mary Ellen back to her apartment in the early morning hours after a delightful assignation in his hotel room. They had savored the champagne Pato had on ice, waiting for them in his room. He had never lacked confidence. All in all, it h
ad been a very satisfying evening. Mary Ellen was eager and charmingly inexperienced in bed. It was an excellent portent for Sunday to be a memorable day.

  Ana was trying to catch a couple of hours of sleep on her flight to Topeka. However, she found that her thoughts wouldn’t slow down. She wondered, If her gruff, but vulnerable lover, Nick Drummond, would divorce his estranged wife after the trial. Ana had fought her attraction towards the lead prosecutor of the Money Laundering Task Force, but had succumbed to her feelings. Ana thought, How difficult it was going to be to live up to our agreement to stop “seeing” each other during the trial to avoid the appearance of a conflict of interest because I’m a key witness to the murder conspiracy count.

  Ana’s flight was scheduled to touch down at 6:05 p.m. She had reserved a rental car. She wanted to go directly to Felicia’s home before she checked into her hotel. Deputy Perkins had spoken to her this morning, and had given her the good news that Felicia was mentally prepared to fly to San Diego and testify. Ana still wanted to see Felicia herself and talk with her. She didn’t want any last minute surprises.

  Lily knocked on Felicia’s door with a suitcase in hand and a bag of Chinese take-out. Felicia greeted her with a smile. “Come in. The take- out smells good. I have a freshly baked apple pie for dessert. Hopefully, Ana likes apple pie.”

  “Everyone loves apple pie. Anything else would be un-American.” They sat down and Felicia opened up the various boxes with the joy of a child opening Christmas presents.

  “Pot stickers and Mu Shu pork. I love that,” said Felicia.

  “That’s just for starters. We have for your eating pleasure, lemon chicken, shrimp chow mein, and the piece de resistance, duck. I don’t get engaged every day.”

  “To you Lily,” said Felicia as she raised a glass of wine. They touched glasses.