by C. M. Sutter
“Yeah, you look just like my old man. He made me the person I am today, and I’m just like him. I have that hunger to kill, and it’s what drives me on. You know what they say about imitation being the most sincere form of flattery. You’re a doppelganger for my pop if I’ve ever seen one, and since he’s already dead, you’ll have to do.”
His words made no sense. It was more than apparent that Richard was mentally unstable.
“So take me and let that innocent man go. He’s nobody to you, and killing him won’t honor your father.”
Hatred was in his voice as Richard spewed his response. “Do you think I’m stupid? I can spot a cop a mile away. I know whose throat I have my arm around.” Richard chuckled. “I’ve been within a foot of you and your partner, McCord, more than once, and you had no idea who I was. You even nodded at me as I walked past you! Incompetent idiots. That’s all you are.”
Frank saw Henry approaching Richard from behind. They had to find a way to get that maniac to release his grip on Shawn yet still be able to apprehend him before anyone was hurt.
Richard yelled out his demands. “Throw your gun down to the tracks. Do it, or I’ll slit his throat right now. Two fingers and keep your other hand up in the air!”
Frank followed Richard’s instructions to the letter and tossed his gun in the pit. A second of distraction was all he needed, and although Richard was a stocky man, Frank had four inches of height and thirty pounds of weight on him.
I know I can take him. I just need one chance.
With a discreet nod to Henry, Frank was ready to spring.
“Richard Hill, drop that weapon now!”
The voice at Richard’s back was enough to startle him. He turned, and that was the split second Frank needed. He leapt at Shawn and pushed him to safety, then he tackled Richard. Still clinging to the knife, Richard fought with all he had and swung it wildly at Frank. They both stumbled backward and fell to the tracks below.
“Frank!”
Henry and Shawn ran to the tunnel’s edge and looked into the five-foot-deep rail pit. Frank tried to get his feet under him as a set of headlights closed in. He turned and saw Richard lying across the rails with the knife protruding from his chest.
“I’ve got to get him off the tracks!” Frank jerked his head toward the oncoming train, only seconds away.
“There’s no time! Give us your hands.”
Jumping up and grasping both Henry and Shawn’s hands, Frank cleared the platform within seconds of being hit.
“Jesus!” Frank spun as the train barreled down the tracks before screeching to a stop.
There was no time to react and nothing the conductor could do to avoid hitting the body. Richard was crushed beneath the train.
Chapter 59
It was late afternoon by the time I arrived at the hospital and walked down the hallway to the exam cubicle Frank was in. I heard his voice long before I entered the room.
“Come on, already. I’m fine. I have people to talk to and places to go.”
I pulled the curtain aside to see Frank sitting on the table and giving the nurse a hard time. She looked at me and rolled her eyes.
“Can you make him shut up so I can listen to his heartbeat?”
Frank grunted. “Obviously, my heart is beating, or I wouldn’t be sitting here. Now can you get somebody to discharge me, please?”
She shook her head and walked out.
I took a seat next to Frank. “So you couldn’t have avoided falling onto the tracks?”
“Well, shit, McCord, I didn’t have a lot of time to weigh out my options. He was waving that knife all over the place.”
“According to the CTA, the Ashland stop will be down for days.”
“I’m sure it will, but we got a killer off the trains.” Frank shook his head.
I wrinkled my brow. “What?”
“Just thinking.”
I waited.
“Richard was the subway killer, and in the end, he got his just reward.”
“By dying in the subway terminal?”
“Yep—it was meant to be. We all know about karma and justice. Death by subway couldn’t have happened to a more deserving guy.”
“I think the knife was what actually killed him.”
Frank shrugged. “My version is more fitting. I also know why he targeted me, and it didn’t have anything to do with Gina.”
“Really? Then why?”
“He said I looked like his old man, and since Ronald Hill died in prison, Richard never had the chance to honor him.”
“By killing his father’s stand-in? That makes no sense at all.”
Frank reached for the cup of water on the side table and took a gulp. “Some shit about imitation being the best form of flattery.”
The nurse returned minutes later. “Sign this release form, Mr. Mills. The doctor said you can leave.”
“Great.” Frank scratched out his name at the bottom of the paper and dated it. He winced when he climbed off the table.
“A little sore?”
He waved away my comment. “Falling five feet and landing on steel tracks is kind of painful, but I’ll be fine. It’s all in a day’s work. Where’s Gina’s room?”
“Third floor, and she’s expecting us.”
“We need to hit the gift shop first.”
“Frank, remember what I said? Don’t get too attached.”
He frowned. “If anyone knows how it feels not to have family, it’s you, Jesse. Gina just needs a little compassion and a few good friends.”
I knew he was right, and if anyone had a heart of gold, it was Frank.
Chapter 60
Frank knocked, and a small voice called out to come in. After opening the door and sliding the curtain to the side, we saw Gina sitting upright in the hospital bed. One light attached to the headboard lit the space around her. When she saw us, a smile brightened her face.
“Detectives Mills and McCord!”
Frank pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down then handed her a stuffed bear. “You can call us Frank and Jesse, remember? And the bear will keep you company when we’re not here.”
“Thank you. It’s really cute.” She appeared to notice Frank’s scuffs when the light hit him just right. “What happened to you?”
“Muffler trouble.”
I grinned at Frank’s feeble attempt to shelter Gina from the truth.
She smiled. “Liar.”
“I could ask you the same thing, but I already know.” Frank patted her hand. “We got him, kiddo, and even though Richard Hill wasn’t the man who killed Leslie, he would have killed you. I can tell you now, he’ll never bother you or anyone else again. You can feel safe in your apartment, we’ll get a new doorbell set up for you, and I’m going to help you get situated with a job or a course that you’ll enjoy. After that, I know you’ll be just fine.”
Gina stared at the twine-and-zip-tie cuts that covered her wrists. “So what happened to him?”
“Richard was surrounded by us at the Ashland Street station. It was the end of the line for him, and he had nowhere to go. Let’s just say the subway and the good guys won.”
She breathed deeply. “The doctor said I’ll be in here for a few more days. They want to make sure my cuts don’t become infected and the hematoma on my head goes down. Will you guys visit me again?”
“Of course,” I said. “We’ll need to question you about what happened with Richard, anyway. Sorry, but it’s mandatory.”
She nodded. “I was so stupid.”
Frank held his finger to his lips. “Shh. You had no idea he was conning you. Don’t let him take up your brain space. Think only good thoughts. I hear hair grows back faster that way.”
She chuckled. “You just made that up, didn’t you?”
“Guilty.” Frank patted her head. “Kind of have that Amish-boy hairstyle now.”
Gina gave us a thumbs-up. “Cool.”
I dipped my hand in my pocket and pulled out that small p
lastic bag. “I’ve got something for you, Gina. I think you need Leslie’s memory close to you right now.” I reached in, pulled out the ring, and placed it in Gina’s hand. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she put it on the finger next to her own ring.
“There. Now we’ll be side by side forever.” She wiped her eyes with the tissue Frank handed her. “Thank you, Detective McCord—I mean Jesse.” She smiled. “I love you both so much.”
“Back at you kiddo. We better let you get some rest.” Frank stood and placed the chair against the wall. “We’ll bring you dinner tomorrow night. How about Chicken Shack?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I can eat food from there for a while. Bad memories, you know.”
I chimed in. “Then pizza?”
Gina grinned. “I love pizza. Can you have them put anchovies on it?”
Frank gave me a side-eyed glance, and I was sure his face turned green, but maybe it was the bruising I noticed.
“Sure,” he said. “What a coincidence that is, since anchovies are my favorite topping too.”
THE END
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