Bennings moved as close as he could to the fresh air without blowing their cover and called the SWAT team together. He pointed up the street and said, “Listen up, Baxter’s operations are in the warehouse next door. About a month ago, he had all the windows sealed with cinderblocks and new solid steel garage doors installed. The perimeter is enclosed with a six-foot-tall chain link fence with privacy slats. The only way in and out is through a rolling gate that’s electronically controlled from inside the building. Next to the gate is a call box under a sign that reads “Quantum Industries. Push Button for Admittance.” About twelve feet above the call box is a camera. It’s the only eye that Baxter’s security guards have to the outside world. At least it was as of a week ago. He keeps talking about sending up drones, but I think it’s all talk. Anyway, I need all of you to stay back—out of camera range. I’ll approach the call box and request permission to go inside. Once I’m in, you’ll be able to follow my progress with a live feed on those special iPhones I gave you back at the station. Turn them on, punch in #66, and you should be able to see a feed from the camera I’ve got right here.”
Bennings pointed to what looked like all the other buttons on his shirt as the SWAT team members pulled out the phones, punched in the code, and were soon looking at themselves on the camera feed. Bennings asked, “Pretty cool, huh?”
One of the SWAT team members smiled and said, “You Feds get all the neat toys.” As soon as the words left his mouth, they echoed right back at him through the phones. Bennings laughed and said, “Yeah, and it’s got a built-in mic, too. So, as soon as I’m inside, I’ll try to position myself to give you the lay of the land. I’ll also try, with no promises, to position myself in a way that blocks the guards’ line of sight to the outside monitor. When you hear me say China Girl, that’s your sign to cut the lock on the gate, push it back manually, and move toward the door. When you do, you should assume that they are aware of your presence. Move as fast as you can and be on full alert. I’ll be doing all that I can from the inside to neutralize any threats. Questions? Okay good, let’s do it!”
Bennings, Sanders, and the team ran single file up the road toward the entrance gate to the warehouse. The SWAT team held back, out of camera sight as Bennings walked ahead, pushed the call button, and said, “This is Cayden James. I’m here to see Baxter.”
Back through the speakers, they all heard, “Sorry. He’s not here. And I’m under strict orders to not let anyone in until he returns.”
“When will that be?”
“Not sure. He didn’t say.”
“Well, I’m here to drop off a cashier’s check.”
“Sorry. No one comes in.”
“Then you tell him about the $250,000 check you wouldn’t let me deliver.”
The gate slid open. Bennings walked inside the fence line and up the steps to the metal entrance door. The team watched the camera feed on their phones as Bennings was greeted at the door by the man with a scar on his nose and escorted into the warehouse. They watched and listened as Bennings talked to him, taking note of the handgun he was carrying. As Bennings talked, he maneuvered himself in a way that allowed the camera to reveal that there was only one other guard on duty. He was sitting in a wooden chair down on the floor near the production workers. He appeared to have dozed off, with his assault rifle leaning against a nearby wall.
As the conversation wound down, Bennings said, “So, one more question. When do you expect China Girl to be bringing in more product?”
The man with the scar on his nose went on alert. He backed up and leveled his gun at Bennings and said, “We never told anyone how the drugs were coming in. Aside from Mr. Baxter, I’m the only one who knew about China Girl. You care to explain?”
Bennings raised up his hand and said, “Easy there, sheriff. Remember my letter of introduction from Quang Li? He told me. Guess it was his way of showing you that I have his complete trust.”
The man with the scar nodded, lowered his gun, and said, “Yeah. Guess that makes sense.”
Outside, the SWAT team was already on the move. They rushed up to the gate. One man cut the lock, and the others manually slid it open. They went into a full sprint toward the door with the lead man carrying a battering ram.
Inside, Bennings kept the man with the scar on his nose turned away from the monitor as the team moved past the camera. They were almost all clear when the guard on the floor let out a loud snore, woke himself up, and jumped to his feet. He glanced up at the monitor, and he saw the last member of the SWAT team moving past the camera. He pointed to the monitor and yelled, “We’ve got company!” and turned to grab his assault rifle.
Bennings reached behind his back, pulled out his Glock, and shot the guard twice in the chest. He dropped to the ground, dead. The man with the scar on his nose managed to get off a shot at Bennings, but it missed its mark. A split second later, Bennings executed a perfect spinning heel kick and caught him square in the face with the heel of his boot. The man with the scar on his nose fell to the ground with a broken jaw as his gun flew out of his hand and landed on the shop floor down below.
Just then, the door flew open, and the man with the scar on his nose looked up to find two Beretta ARX 100s pointed at him. The other two SWAT team members, along with Sanders, ran down the half flight of stairs to round up the workers down on the floor. Most of them immediately surrendered, some of them in tears. Two of them fled toward the back of the building, trying to hide between rows of shelves stacked full of accumulated spare parts and abandoned junk from previous occupants.
Within minutes, they had both been rounded up and, along with the others, herded outside to a prisoner transport van. Sanders walked over to Bennings and said, “I’m sure as hell glad that you’re on our side. Not sure you needed us at all!’
Bennings smiled and said, “I try my best.”
“I can see that. But it seems that Baxter has once again slipped through our hands. You mind if I put out an APB on him?”
“Not at all. And while you’re at it, make sure that Nichols knows he’s still out there. When he finds out what we’ve done to his operation, he’s gonna want to make someone pay. The man’s psychotic.”
“Roger that.”
Down the street, a black Mercedes pulled up to the two “city workers” standing next to the barricade. The cars tinted window rolled down, and Lucien Baxter trotted out his best southern drawl. “Hey there, y’all. Whatcha up to? Finally fixing the street?”
One of the undercover officers walked up to the side of his car, glanced at his partner, and said, “Uh. Yes, sir. Sorry for the inconvenience, but we’ll be finished up shortly. You need to get in here for any reason?”
“Na. I was just curious. Got a place a couple of blocks over. Anyway, it’s hotter than a devil’s butt-hole out here, so don’t y’all go workin’ too hard, ya hear?”
“Yeah sure.”
Lucien rolled up the window, turned the corner, and drove off as the undercover cops stood and watched.
Chapter 40
I never knew for sure why Blue did what she did that day after we made all those plans, but I have a pretty good guess. She knew what it was like to not have any colors in her life, and she didn’t want to me to end up the same way. I wonder if that’s why she dyed her hair blue: It was the only color she had left.
Blue crawled over to the door in the cubbyhole and said, “Come on! We better get going.”
The girls crawled out, and Blue poked her head back inside and turned out the light.
Then she asked Molly, “Where do you live, anyway?”
Molly said, “Near Ardsley Park.”
“Hey, that’s not far from here! We can walk over.”
“But I want to get a suitcase and put some clothes in it.”
“Yeah. I guess if we’re really gonna do this, I should get my stuff together, too. I’ve got a few things here like the sleeping bag, the grass, and the gun. Why don’t you head over to your house and grab the money whi
le I put my stuff in the car. Then I’ll drive over and pick you up.”
“Can’t you come with me? Please?”
“Alright, at least part way. Then I’ll come back, put my stuff in the car, and drive back over to pick you up.” They walked downstairs, out the front door, and headed toward Molly’s house on foot.
Fifteen minutes later, Blue returned. She went inside, but she didn’t go upstairs to pack. Instead, she pulled out her phone and made a call.
A lady on the other end of the phone answered, “911. State your emergency.”
Blue said, “I’m trying to get ahold of a police officer on the Savannah Police Force. His name is Mr. Nichols.”
“Is this an emergency?”
“I’m not sure. All I know is that he’s looking for his daughter, and I know where she is.”
“What is your name?”
“Blue. Tell him Blue called. If you want, I can leave you my number.”
“No, hold on the line. Let me see if I can reach him.”
Blue waited on the line for a couple of minutes when Jordan came on and asked, “Blue?”
“Yeah. Hi there, Mr. Nichols. How are you doing?”
“Where the hell are you, and where is Molly?”
“Relax. Everything’s A-Okay.”
“Then tell me where you are. I have half the police in Savannah looking for you right now.”
“Woah, that’s not good! Call off the dogs. I’m trying to help you here.”
“Okay then, one more time. Tell me where you’re at.”
“Well, I’m not gonna do that, but I will tell you where Molly is. She’s over at your house, getting ready to run away from home.”
“Run away! Where to?”
“We were thinking we’d go see Mickey. You know, Disney World.”
“Oh my God. Look, I’m on my way home right now. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Can you try and keep her there, please?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you so much. I’ll…uh. Blue, why are you telling me this anyway?”
“Because I like Molly. She’s a good kid. And I think you guys need to, you know, kiss and make up or something like that.”
“Thank you. I really do appreciate it.”
“No problem. Oh, and don’t tell Molly I called you.”
“I won’t.”
Blue hung up and slowly walked back upstairs to her room. She ducked into the cubbyhole and sat down in the dark. She opened the bottle of bourbon and took a swig with one hand, while holding one of her old dolls with the other.
Molly was up the street from her house, looking around for her dad’s truck. She didn’t see it, so she pulled out her house key, walked up to the house, opened the door, and went inside. She quietly closed the door behind her, calling out, “Anybody home?” No answer. She ran up the steps and into her bedroom. She paused when she saw the picture of herself and her mom. She picked it up and laid it on the bed.
Outside, Lucien Baxter’s black Mercedes drove past and turned the corner. Baxter parked the car, took his gun out of the glovebox, and tucked it into his belt, pulling his shirt out to keep it out of sight. He got out of the car and walked back around the corner and down the street, toward the Nichols’s house.
Inside, Molly opened her closet and pulled out an old backpack. She grabbed some shorts and blouses, some underwear, and a pair of sneakers and shoved them in. Then she walked down the hall to the bathroom and grabbed her toothbrush and some toothpaste. She went back to her room, put them in the backpack, and then carefully placed the picture on top. Next, she walked over to the dresser, toward the piggy bank.
Back outside, Lucien walked up the steps to the porch, pulled out his gun, and tried the door. It was unlocked. He quietly entered the house and walked into the kitchen. He looked around and then returned to the living room. He started to walk slowly up the steps.
SQUEAK.
Inside her room, Molly heard the squeak from the loose floorboard and froze.
Oh, no! Dad’s home.
The next decision Molly made would forever change her life.
Jordan was now less than a mile away from home, on his cell phone with Jenna.
“Jenna, I just called off the APB I put out on Molly and that Blue girl. Molly’s at my house.”
“Are you there with her?”
“Not yet. But Blue called me and told me that’s where she is.”
“And you believe her?”
“Yeah. I do. It was something in her voice. I really think she’s trying to help.”
“Okay. How about if I drive out to meet you? You may need a referee.”
“Good idea. I’ll see you in what, forty minutes?”
“I can do better than that.”
“Hey. No speeding tickets. I’m not bailing you out.”
“Yeah, yeah. See you soon.”
“Okay, wish me luck.”
“You got it.”
Jordan pulled into the driveway and jumped out. When he got to the front door, he found it standing open and walked inside. He called out, “Molly? You in here?”
No answer. He tried again. “Come on, Molly. We need to talk. I want to apologize.”
Jordan was walking toward the steps when he saw the door in Molly’s room swing shut.
He smiled and slowly headed up the steps. He stood outside of Molly’s room and asked, “Molly, can I come in?”
There was no answer.
“Molly?”
Jordan opened the door and stepped inside the room. It was empty, and everything seemed to be in perfect order. Then the door slowly swung shut.
Jordan turned around and found himself facing Lucien Baxter and a gun pointed in his face. Jordan started for his Glock, but Lucien grabbed his arm, stuck his gun in Jordan’s ribs, and said, “Bad move!”
Jordan raised his hands and asked, “Where’s Molly? What have you done with her?”
Lucien took Jordan’s gun and threw it on the bed as he asked, “Molly? What makes you think you’d find Molly in here?” He mockingly called out, “Molly? Oh, Molly, where are you?”
“If you’ve done anything to her, I’ll…”
Lucien chambered a round, laughed, and asked, “You’ll do what?”
Lucien opened the door, waved his gun, and said, “Let’s go, down the steps.”
“Why? You want to kill me, go for it, right here. Do it!”
“Oh, no. There’s an artistry, a symmetry to life and death that has to be respected. Billy and then Tommy—the son and the father. Did you know I killed Billy? The coroner never gave me credit. And then there was my brother Luke and Kevin—the murdered and the murderer, both of them at the swash.”
Lucien paused and then asked, “He is dead? Isn’t he?”
“And if he’s not?”
“Well, there’s always tomorrow. But for now, it’s your turn. Wife and husband, both on the same step, both by the same hand. Perfect symmetry. It could be my best work to date. The world needs more artists like me. Don’t you agree?”
“If art is your thing, you should have seen Luke. We even gave him a name, the Swamp Thing.”
Jordan’s words had the desired effect. Lucien grimaced and said, “Shut up and move, or that little girl of yours will be next. The greatest works are always done in trilogies, you know.”
“You bastard. If you so much as touch her, I’ll…”
“Stop already! You have no leverage here. You’re about to die. But you know what? If you cooperate, Molly lives. I’m a sophisticated man, not a pathological killer. It was you, not me, who violated the rules of the universe.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“All of you! You interfered with my assigned task, my raison d’être.”
“You’re fucking crazy. What about Casey? What did she do to you?”
“She was, how would you say it, collateral damage. It was unplanned. She had a gun, and she saw my face. So, just like the rest of you, she became
an obstacle to my purpose. But Molly didn’t see me that night. If she did, I’d already be in jail. If you cooperate, I’ll be gone long before she gets home, and she’ll be free to live a long and happy life, albeit without parents! You have my word.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Follow me down the steps, one by one…and stay close! No ideas about charging up the steps and grabbing your gun…or the girl dies.”
Lucien backed down the steps one at a time, keeping his gun trained on Jordan as he followed him down until Lucien said, “Stop! That’s the right one, isn’t it? We only get one take at this.”
“Yes, this is it. Look at the fresh paint, for God’s sake. Pull the damn trigger and get the hell out of here!”
Lucien kept moving down toward the foyer as he said, “Be patient! I don’t want to get any splatter on me. Now press nice and tight against the wall.”
Jordan put his back to the wall, and Lucien reached the foyer. His finger moved to the trigger, and he took aim. He smiled and said, “That’s good. Now, ready or not, here I…”
“Daddy!”
Jordan looked up at the landing and saw Molly standing there, trying her best to point Jordan’s gun at Lucien.
Jordan turned to see Lucien pivoting his gun toward Molly.
Jordan yelled, “No!” as he leapt out from against the wall, trying to block Lucien’s line of fire.
BANG! A shot rang out.
Jordan crashed into the banister, cracking several balusters as he slid down against them. He looked up at Molly, and she was still standing there, trembling. And then he looked back down the stairs at Lucien, the direction the shot came from. Lucien had a contorted look on his face, and he was holding his hand to his back. He smiled at Jordan, said, “Artistic differences,” and then collapsed to the floor, blood filling the back of his shirt. Jordan’s eyes darted over to the front door, and there was Blue, holding the snub-nosed revolver out in front of her with both hands. Smoke and the smell of gunpowder filled the foyer.
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