Killing Frank Barnes

by Ruth DuCharme

  Chapter Five

  Once outside, Frank bowed his head and walked towards the commotion. Keeping his head bowed but using his eyes to scan the people around him, Frank approached the area he had just fled. Patrol cars were parked haphazardly on the lawn and in the red zones of the lot. Frank glanced up towards the location he had seen Jimmy last. He saw a lump in the dirt, covered by a white sheet. Oh God, was Jimmy dead?

  “Move it, kid. This is a crime scene.” A uniformed cop with a roll of crime scene tape pushed Frank aside. Frank’s breath caught as pain shot through his shoulder.

  Frank stepped back and walked around the north side of the building. Kids, staff and news crews were gathering in hordes. Frank pushed his way through the crowd to the crime scene tape going up. He saw Werner and Jackson amongst the other officers in the middle of the mayhem. They didn’t look happy. Frank wasn’t quite sure what to do next. Should he call out to the detectives and get their attention? Stay put until they came to talk to him?

  “Damn it!,” a gruff voice with a sergeant’s stripes came barreling through the crowd and ducked under the tape next to Frank.

  “What the hell is going on here! How the hell did you fuck up a simple buy bust?” The voice yelled at Werner.

  “Sarge, it was the kid, the snitch we used. Jimmy had a gun. He fired first.” Lawrence wasn’t making any sense to Frank.

  “Where’s your informant?”

  “I don’t know. He ran off in the scuffle but when I catch that little fucker I’m gonna beat his ass," Werner said

  “And the dope? The money?”

  “The kid must have grabbed it,”

  “Damn it. Let‘s get a BOLO out for him. No statements to the press.”

  Werner raised his mic to his mouth. "Bolo for a WMA, 6’, 180, brown hair, approximately twenty-five years of age, last seen wearing blue jeans, black leather jacket, red shoes. Possibly suffering from GSW. Last seen Sorro College campus. PC to arrest for 187.”

  187? Frank knew enough police codes to realize Werner had just announced to every cop on the air that Frank was wanted for murder! What the hell was Werner doing?

  Frank’s body churned with a mix of adrenaline, anger and panic. He turned and pushed his way through the gathering crowd. He reached under his sweatshirt and ripped the mic from the tape holding it to his chest and pushed it deep into the nearest garbage can.

  Frank saw a bus just getting ready to pull away from the curb and ran to catch up to it. Banging on the bus door until it opened, Frank weathered an exasperated look from the bus driver as he jumped on and the door closed behind him. The bus pulled away from the curb as Frank found a seat near the back. Frank looked out the back window and saw the sergeant directing a group of officers. A search. A search for him, no doubt. Frank scrunched as far down into his seat as possible and tried to decide where in the heck he could go. Frank knew one thing; he was now on the run.

  Chapter Six

  TWO YEARS LATER

  “Knock, Knock! Is Officer Noble in here?” Jack pushed open the door of the bedroom he shared with the love of his life, Lizzie Noble. He poked his head inside and grinned at the sight of her cuddled on the big four-poster bed. She was reading Sam his favorite fractured fairytale, and they had just gotten to the part where the dragon rescued the princess from the knight in shining armor.

  “Come innnnn”, Sam sang out in his 6-year-old voice and giggled as Jack threw himself down on the bed next to them.

  “Whatcha guys reading?

  “Hubert the Dragon,"

  “Sounds scary” Jack pretended to shiver with fright.

  “No, it isn’t!”

  “I got your mommy a present.” Jack pretends to whisper in Sam’s ear.

  “Oh, presents! What is it? What is it?” Lizzie squealed putting the book down beside her and straightening up.

  Jack handed her the little box wrapped in dark blue tissue paper. “Today is the first day of the rest of your life.”

  “Open it mommy!” Sammy wiggled impatiently in between them.

  Jack reached over and swept Sam’s curly blonde hair from his eyes. Sammy’s eyes were cornflower blue, the same as Lizzie’s. Whenever Jack looked into them he felt that he was in the presence of absolute innocence and that made his heart soar with hope.

  Sam had been born four years before he had even met Lizzie, but he loved him like his own. He had made a promise to himself to ensure Sam had a complete family.

  Jack had grown up in and out of foster homes his whole life. He knew the damage an unstable family environment could do. He hated remembering those cold unfeeling homes with adults who either were unbearably cruel, nauseatingly overbearing or worse yet, indifferent to anything other than the paycheck the state sent to help care for his growing frame.

  Once he had turned 16, he had finally fled the last foster home and never looked back. The Smith’s were their names if he remembered correctly? They were decent people, but he had never really felt attached to them. Jack mentally shook the ghosts from his brain and forced himself to focus on Lizzie as she popped opened the little box.

  “A Saint Michael's medal! Oh, Jack it's beautiful!” Lizzie exclaimed as she handed him the slender chain. She swept her long hair up and turned for Jack to clasp it around her graceful neck.

  “The patron saint of police officers; This will keep you safe out there on the street since I can’t be there to protect you every moment of the day and, for some reason, you insist on fighting bad guys.”

  “You do it every day, too, and being an undercover officer is twice as scary.” Lizzie gently ran her finger along the chain around his neck that held his police badge under his shirt.

  “Sometimes I worry myself sick you won't make it home.” She sniffed a little and lifted her chin in mock defiance, “Now it’s your turn to worry.”

  “The job is different for a man. I’m not a little 5’3 blonde bombshell.” He tugged her hair a little in a teasing gesture.

  “Lizzie, listen to me, you have no idea how difficult it can be, pretending to be someone you aren’t. I’ve had years of practice and if I do say so myself, have made an art form out of it. Don’t rush it. Your time for playing secret mission will arrive soon enough.”

  “Aren’t you ever scared someone will find out who you really are? I mean, all it takes is for one person to recognize you and your cover is blown!”

  “Every day, baby. Every day. But you, you have nothing to worry about. Most people aren’t as smart as you are”

  “It’s one reason you fell in love with me, my smarts. That and my smarmy” she pursed her lips and wiggled her eyebrows up and down.

  “Oh, I know EXACTLY how smart you are, smarty pants. Just promise me you won’t figure out I’m really just a dragon trying to rescue a princess and leave me for a knight in shining armor” he quipped as he gave Sam a tickle.

  Sam squealed in delight at the rough housing and squirmed while screaming laughingly, “Help! The dragon is going to eat me!!!”

  “Who wants waffles with whipped cream?” Jack asked as he got up from the bed slinging Sam over his shoulder and marching toward the kitchen.

  Sam chanted “I do! I do! With sprinkles!”

  “With sprinkles!”

  Chapter Seven

  After a good breakfast, thanks to Jack, and a quick shower, Lizzie found herself driving westward on I80 towards the Roland Police Department. Today was her first day, and she wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. The butterflies in her stomach were unrelenting! Unlike others in her academy class she had not grown up wanting to be a police officer. She had gone to school to be a schoolteacher. But after Sam’s dad had left her, she had to make more money than teaching paid and she had found that opportunity while taking a few elective courses at Sorro.

  Lizzie smiled to herself at the memory of her first class in police procedure. She had been hooked from day one. The academy had been rough, not as easy as she had assumed it would be but the physical training and the stres
s of it all had grown her. She had never thought of herself as an adrenaline junkie. She always played it safe until now. She had surprised herself, and everyone who knew her, when she signed up for the police academy at the end of her first semester. It had been worth every last penny of the meager savings she had. A bet on her and Sam’s future. She had to make this work.

  Lizzie turned on the radio and sighed to herself as a sappy love song filtered through the aging speakers of her three hundred thousand mile Honda Accord. She had Jack and she loved him. After everything she had been through with Sam’s dad she was glad to be with someone so open and honest. And on the right side of the law.

  Jack had been so great for Sam. He was a natural at this family unit thing. He took good care of her and even though her sister had strongly disapproved, Lizzie was happy with her decision to move in together. Her sister Carly had strong opinions about her being with someone who couldn’t talk about his work. She just didn’t understand how undercover work HAD to be secret! Lizzie quickly turned the radio station and found some classic rock. If she thought any further about Carly she would begin one of those angry conversations in her head. The ones that never really happen but still get her all riled up. She didn’t need that this morning. She needed to be ready for her first day and mindset was everything.

  Lizzie exited the freeway into Roland. She quickly forgot all about her sisters attitude as she turned onto Barnard street. She drove by the Hall of Justice and smiled. She loved that the officers still called it that. The police department building was as old as the one hundred year old city and it showed.

  Lizzie pulled into the south parking lot and found a space furthest from the entrance. She had spent several weeks coming in everyday for training in firearms and geography as well as radio codes and etiquette so she was somewhat familiar with the building and the city itself.

  Lizzie used her electronic key fob and keyed herself through the sally port door into the main hallway of the department. She was nervous but in an excited way. She could still barely believe that she was doing this. Her. Sweet innocent Lizzie Noble was about to become one of Roland’s finest.

  Chapter Eight

  This morning’s conversation with Lizzie was stirring up that little anxious tickle Jack had been squashing ever since she announced her intention of going through the police academy. He had tried to talk her out of it but he could not deter her. Pushing the feeling down once again he told himself he would just have to be extra careful not to let those feelings run him if he wanted to keep Lizzie and Sam.

  Jack’s little family enjoyed a painfully leisurely breakfast before Lizzie and Sam left for the day. The minute the door closed behind them, Jack grabbed a jacket and walked the three blocks to the corner store. This was a big day for him too. Jack needed a drink.

  Jack reached the little bodega and made a quick glance around the interior as he stepped in. It was unseasonably warm for June in the bay area and the air-conditioned store was a nice change from the muggy 80 degrees out in the sun. Out of habit, Jack looked up and around at the mirrors reflecting the interior of the store. He casually glanced down each aisle, noting the other cusDekkerers as he made his way toward the walk-in cooler at the back of the store. He window-shopped until he found the beer. It wouldn’t do to get drunk today. Jack never knew what might go down. Just one would do the trick. Just take the edge off. Push that whisper of foreshadowing down a little while longer.

  The 18-year-old behind the counter didn’t even glance up from his magazine as Jack set the bottle of beer down on the counter in front of him.

  “It’s five o'clock somewhere, right?” the kid smirked

  “Yeah” Jack pretended to grin at the kid. Jack had perfected the fake grin over the years but he needn’t have bothered. The kid didn’t even look up when Jack handed him the exact change. Kids these days. This one will get robbed and he will never see it coming. Moron.

  Before leaving the counter, Jack glanced through the front window. He wanted to see what was waiting for him when he exited and squinted against the sunlight. Habit. Noting nothing out of the ordinary, he stepped out and walked to the curb. His uncapped the beer and chugged it down in one delicious gulp. Jack licked his lips and wiped them with the back of his hand. He put the empty back in the paper bag, tossed it in the trash and stepped off the curb just as the walk signal turned green.

  Jack rarely drank more than one drink anymore. When he and Lizzie had first begun dating he made the mistake of having one too many at a party with some of her friends. They had gone to a bar for dinner and Jack drank more than he thought. He babbled some really scary stuff in front of her. True but scary. The next day Lizzie asked him about it and Jack mumbled something about his undercover persona. She had been too hung-over to doubt him. He never made that mistake again. He knew he couldn’t let his secrets come out. He was finally happy and he would do whatever it took to keep it that way.

  Jack arrived home and began the task of cleaning up the breakfast dishes. Running hot water in the sink he grabbed a clean sponge from under the counter. Turning on the radio to distract him, Jack set about his domestic goddess duties and laughed. If anyone would’ve told him three years ago that he would be doing dishes and living with a cop and a kid he would’ve split their head open on principle alone.

  Chapter Nine

  Joel Barnes pumped the stolen Honda’s brakes at the red light. Feeling the down coming on, he rummaged through the dirty ashtray for a half-smoked cigarette to at least curb one of the cravings beginning to make their mark. Good lord the sun was like knives in his eyes.

  Joel fished around in his pocket for a lighter and lit the crusty butt of the cigarette he had found. He inhaled the acrid smoke and coughed a little. Tasted like crap. He stubbed it back out and rummaged through the center console to see if he could come up with enough change for a fresh pack. He found a quarter, some sticky skittles, a few fries and some straw wrappers all crumpled up. Whoever owned this car was a slob. He reached over and opened the glove compartment. Well, what do we have here he chuckled as he pulled out a small revolver. Nice! He rarely messed with guns. Just having one could get you in a mess of trouble with the cops and what he didn’t need was more trouble with the cops. He decided the little piece might come in handy so he put it in his coat pocket. It fit nice and snug. Maybe he could sell it for cigarette money or even better, a motel room for the night.

  Joel looked up as the light turned green. As he pulled into the intersection, a man standing on the curb caught his eye. Joel blinked in disbelief as the man on the sidewalk took a bottle of booze out of a paper bag and put it to his lips.

  “Well, I’ll be damned” he chuckled.

  A full beard and a few more muscles accessorized his six foot two frame but Big Bro still had that certain snarl that even ten years couldn’t erase. A honk behind him shook Joel from his reverie.

  “Keep your tighty whiteys on” Joel grumbled. He made a left and one hundred feet later, a tight U-turn. Pulling up to the curb where he could keep his brother in sight, Joel examined him; watching him chug a beer. His brother could always out drink him. He looked good. He looked like he had stayed off the sauce. Joel saw his brother throw the empty bottle away, step off the curb and start across the street.

  They played “spy” as kids and Joel always won. Big Bro came up with the game so they could steal food, money or valuables. The cat and mouse came in handy when they wanted to avoid the other kids in the group home. Joel decided he wanted to play it now.

  Wanna play ‘spy’, Big Bro? Let’s see what you’ve been up to since you ditched me. Joel left the car at the curb and got out on foot. It was always more fun to stalk your prey in the natural way. It was easier to duck into doorways and behind concealment. No tons of metal to hide. Besides, this stolen Honda needed to be ditched. He couldn’t risk getting caught again. Taking a rag out of his pocket, Joel wiped down the steering wheel and the rest of the interior. He wiped the door handle and threw the half-
smoked butt into the gutter. No DNA, no prints.

  Joel walked against the red light. He wasn’t worried. This was Martinville. Nobody paid attention. He kept half a block between him and his prey. He ducked and dove in the shadows even though it was unnecessary. Big Bro never looked back.

  Joel started to get a little angry. Bro, you aren’t even playing right! No counter surveillance. Nothing! Joel could see his brother had gotten comfortable.

  Three blocks later, Joel watched his brother let himself in through the front door of a building of flats. Four floors with a yellow exterior. It looked like it had been built in the twenties but would never survive the next big quake. These old buildings were monuments to architecture but if the state fell into the bay as predicted by all those weirdos, Joel was sure the whole of the bay area would plunge, man-bun first.

  Joel paused across the street and scoped out the building. Brick on the outside and little flower gardens on every windowsill. Suburbs and stroller moms. Gag. He hated the suburbs. They reminded Joel of everything he wasn’t and would never be.

  These people had money. Maybe his brother did too. That would be helpful. He wondered where his brother had gotten the scratch to live in a place like this. What kind of con was he pulling? No way he had gone straight and had a legit job. If he had, he wouldn’t be home in the middle of the day drinking beer, that’s for sure.

  Ok big brother let’s see what you got going on here

  Joel cautiously entered the foyer of the apartment building. He examined the bank of small mailboxes that lined the foyer wall. He found a name he recognized and grinned devilishly. Well, well, well, you sneaky bastard.