Chapter Twenty-Seven

They never had to reveal that Joe had been found and was in jail because an hour after leaving the hospital, as Bo and Jim were briefing the sheriff, Bo got a call. The caller, who did not identify herself, simply told Bo that Devonte Grillo was home. She agreed to keep an eye on the house and to let Bo know if he left. She also stated that he had driven right into his garage in his silver Mercedes.

As soon as Bo told the sheriff and Jim what the call was about, Jim said, “He’s pretty sure of himself.”

“If Joe had died, we wouldn’t have had a thing to go on. We could have picked him up for questioning, but he would have had no reason to cooperate or admit anything,” Bo said.

“I’ll go with you two,” the sheriff said as he grabbed his hat. “But first, let’s call the West Valley police and have them keep an eye on the place and let us know if Devonte tries to leave and ask them to detain him if he does.”

As soon as that was done, they headed for West Valley City in Bo’s Explorer. “Will they have someone stake his house out?” Bo asked as soon as they were on the road.

“I talked to the police chief. He said they would do better than that. He’s putting a SWAT team on standby, ready to move at a moment’s notice. He’ll have several officers watch the house in addition to that.”

The three officers made good time, and they let the police chief know as soon as they were in Devonte’s neighborhood in West Valley City. The SWAT team assembled out of sight a block away, and then Bo, Jim, and the sheriff approached the door. There was no response to either the doorbell or their knocks.

Bo’s phone rang, and the same anonymous caller told him that Devonte was still in the house. The police chief, when they joined his officers a block away, made the same assurance. They discussed their options and decided to go ahead and use the SWAT team. They would have them surround the house, and they would use a bullhorn to order Devonte to surrender if he didn’t answer the doorbell after another attempt.

They all moved very quickly, and when everyone was set, Bo and a West Valley officer approached the front door. Bo rang the bell. He and the other officer held their weapons ready and stood back at either side of the door. To Bo’s surprise, Devonte opened the door a few inches and said, “What do you guys want?”

“Devonte Bundra, we need to talk to you,” Bo said.

“I don’t know anyone by that name. My name’s Grillo, and I haven’t done anything wrong,” he said, his dark eyes looking as belligerent as his voice sounded. “So you can tell those officers out there to get lost.”

“Come on out, and we’ll talk about it, or we can come in if you prefer,” Bo offered.

“You tell me what it’s about, and then I’ll decide,” he said. “But you got the wrong guy.”

“Not according to Joe Whalen, we don’t,” Bo said.

Devonte’s face went white, and he slammed the door shut. “I guess he wants to do this the hard way,” Bo said, and the two officers retreated behind the SWAT line. He then used a bullhorn and called out Devonte’s name. “Come out, Devonte. You are wanted for the murder of Emil Eifler and the kidnapping and attempted murder of Joe Whalen. Surrender now.”

Nothing happened for a full minute. Bo was just ready to speak through the bullhorn again when suddenly, the garage door flew apart, and a silver Mercedes backed out so fast that it was all some of the SWAT officers directly in its path could do to scramble to safety. Devonte actually hit two of them, knocking them to the ground. Then the car smashed into a parked police vehicle.

The suspect was trying to drive forward, but another police vehicle, an armored truck, pulled in front of his car, blocking his path. He shoved a gun out of his window but was hit with a Taser before he could fire a shot at anyone. From there it was easy. Emil’s killer was in custody.

Joe and Ron recovered together in Ron’s farmhouse, attended to by Melia and Nattie. Before their recovery was complete, they were joined by a little girl that Nattie named Josephine and who she nicknamed Joey. Joe was strong enough to resume the work before summer arrived, and Ron, his heart in the best shape it had been for years after his surgery, was able to do some of the work.

Nattie, after a couple of months, was approached by her parents and told that she could come home and bring their little granddaughter. Her father didn’t seem terribly excited about the idea, but her mother had taken control, and she was not about to let that grandbaby grow up without her loving grandmother. Nattie agreed to visit regularly, but she was content for the time being to stay in the big farmhouse in Carbon County where she had felt more welcome than anywhere else at any time in her life.

After he was strong enough, Joe proudly wore his DI Sunday best to church every week. Melia, who turned twenty in April, always sat beside him, and no young men in the ward dared make the attempt to ask her out.

She was present with a big smile on her face when Joe was baptized. She hugged him, and he hugged her back tightly. “I’d have never done this if it hadn’t been for you. I didn’t realize how badly I needed the Church. Thank you for introducing me to the gospel. It has changed my life. I love you, Melia,” he said.

She grinned. “And I love you.”

Later, in the hallway as people were drifting out, he said to Melia, “I spoke with your grandfather.”

“About what?” she asked.

“I asked his permission for something, and he told me that it would be okay with him.”

“Permission for what?” she asked, her eyes bright with anticipation.

“I’ll tell you later,” Joe said with a grin. “This isn’t the time or the place. But I think you’ll like it. I hope you will.”

That was all he was going to tell her for now, for he hadn’t yet bought a ring.