The Sam Prichard Series - Books 9-12 (Sam Prichard Boxed Set 3)

by David Archer

  Sam thought over all he’d heard for a moment, then looked at Marty again. “You think Lemmons has her somewhere? Or do you think she’s dead?”

  Marty shook his head emphatically. “She’s not dead,” he said. “Lemmons isn’t that stupid. I think he knows the only thing keeping me from spreading this all over creation right now is knowing he’d kill her if I do. I think he’s got her stashed somewhere, and he’s hoping he can use her to find me and get that video, but I never told her where I was.”

  Sam nodded slowly. “I think you’re right. He’ll keep her alive until he’s got his hands on the recording, I agree. Can you show me this video? I want to see it.”

  Marty looked at him for a long moment, then reached down under the seat and came up with a tablet. He held it so Sam couldn’t see it, tapped on the screen for a few seconds, then handed it over. “Just tap the arrow.”

  Sam stared at the screen for a moment, then tapped the video play icon.

  7

  This video had not been edited, and Sam was amazed that chance had caused the camera to be facing precisely the right direction to capture the entire sequence of events. It opened suddenly, showing three young people walking into view in an alleyway. There were two boys, one of whom was black, and a girl. The other boy and the girl appeared to be Caucasian. Sam realized he was looking into the alley from a spot in a parking lot that abutted it. A lamp above the building illuminated the scene.

  A police cruiser appeared in the alley, its lights flashing once as it stopped, facing the three young people. Two officers stepped out of it, and Sam heard one of them say, “Just stop right there. What are you doing back here, this time of night?”

  The white boy, now visible in the light, flipped a finger up. “Screw off, pig, we ain’t doin’ nothin’!”

  The officer who had spoken looked at his partner. “Pig?” he asked. “Did he just call me a pig?”

  “Sure sounded like it,” the second officer said.

  The first officer turned back to the boy and took a step forward. “What’s your name, kid?”

  The boy fluffed up like a cat facing a dog. “I ain’t telling you, pig, what you think about that? You ain’t got no business hangin’ us up, we just walkin’ through here is all. Go find a donut shop, why don’t you?”

  The two officers glanced at one another, then the first one spoke again. “Look, punk, I don’t have to take this crap from you. Just tell us who you are, okay, before we start thinking you three are behind all the burglaries around here lately. Give us your names and then go home.”

  “Man, who you think you are, tellin’ me to go home? You ain’t shit, pig! You just like all them cops gettin’ shot nowadays, just a target in your flashy blue suit, and it’s about time people wise up and start blowin’ your asses away! Every time I hear about another cop gettin’ killed, I just think, yeah, that’s it! Kill ’em all!”

  It happened so fast that even Sam didn’t see it coming. The cop who’d been speaking reached out and slapped the boy across the face so hard that he fell to the ground, and then the black boy jumped on him, punching him once in the mouth before he could react. Sam saw the second officer speak into the microphone on his shoulder, then reach out and grab the boy who’d struck his partner while holding onto the girl by an arm. The first officer had subdued the other boy on the ground, and placed cuffs on his wrists.

  The two on their feet were muttering, but Sam couldn’t hear what was being said. The second officer told them both to shut up, then looked at his partner. “Slocum, we taking these kids in?”

  Slocum, the first cop, got to his feet and dragged the handcuffed boy up beside him. “Wait 'til backup gets here,” he said. “I don’t know if it’s worth messing with it.” He looked at the boy he was holding onto. “So, what were you doing here? Waiting for someone to bring you something?”

  The kid spat onto the ground. “Screw you,” he said. “We weren’t doin’ nothin’! You pigs just like to pick on anyone you can.”

  A second squad car came into view and parked beside the first one. Two officers stepped out, and Sam recognized one of them as David Forsyth. Forsyth had worked with him for a short time when he was with Vice, but had decided to return to uniform patrol after his wife complained about the job he was doing.

  Forsyth walked over to where Slocum was still holding the boy he’d cuffed. “What’ve we got here?” he asked.

  “Got some punks who think the police can’t touch ’em,” Slocum said. “This one thinks we all oughta be shot, and his pal over there took a swing at me when I shut this one’s mouth for him.”

  The black boy tried to yank free of the officer holding him. “Hey, he attacked Kevin for no reason,” he yelled. “You cops can’t just punch somebody when you feel like it, there was no reason to hit any of us!”

  “Shut up,” Forsyth said. He turned to the boy who’d been named as Kevin. “Kevin what? What’s your last name?”

  “Screw you,” Kevin said.

  Forsyth turned at the sound of another car door that was out of sight of the camera and grinned. “What are you doing out this time of night?”

  Jerry Lemmons came into view. “I was heading home from doing a scene report,” he said, “and heard the call for backup. What’s going on here?”

  Slocum shook the boy he was holding. “Found some delinquents loitering in the alley, and asked them what they were doing here...”

  The boy tried to yank away. “That’s bull,” he said. “We were just minding our own business and these two jackboots came up and started smackin’ us around! You think just because you got badges means you like God, or somethin’, you can do anything you want. That ain’t how it is, pig, and people gettin’ sick of it. That’s why all you mothers keep gettin’ shot, and I laugh every time I hear about it.”

  Lemmons looked around at the other officers and then turned back to the kid. “Sounds to me like these punks need to learn a little respect for the law, don’t it?” The other officers nodded, and Lemmons instantly punched the boy in the mouth.

  The other boy yelled something Sam couldn’t make out, but Lemmons struck again. “That one needs a lesson, too,” he said, and Slocum grabbed the black boy from behind by both arms. Forsyth’s partner immediately stepped up and punched the kid, and that’s when the girl began to scream.

  “You punks think you’re pretty cool, right?” Lemmons asked. “You run around with this little tramp, she’s kinda hot, right? Make you feel like big men? Well, now she’s got you in some trouble you can’t get out of. We’re gonna make you wish you’d never seen her before.”

  The punching and screaming went on for several seconds, but then Lemmons stopped and looked at the girl. “Driscoll, you want to shut her up?” he asked, and Sam’s wide eyes watched in horror as Officer Driscoll yanked the girl backward and tightened his arm around her throat. She reached up with both hands to try to pull the arm away, but it was obvious that she was having trouble breathing.

  Lemmons and the other cop went back to punching their respective victims, while Driscoll held onto the girl and stared at what they were doing. The look on his face, Sam thought, would probably make a fitting illustration of sadistic glee. The girl struggled in his grip for only a few seconds, but then Sam saw her attempts grow more feeble until they finally stopped altogether. Her arms dropped to her sides and her face went slack.

  Even knowing what he was seeing, Sam kept hoping that Driscoll would realize what was happening and release the girl, but it didn’t happen. As the two boys began to sag in the arms of the cops holding them, Lemmons glanced over at Driscoll and realized that something was wrong.

  “God, Driscoll,” he shouted, “don’t choke her to death!” Driscoll released the pressure on the girl’s throat, but when he did she simply slid down him to the ground. He knelt down and felt for a pulse on her throat, then looked up at Lemmons with a face transformed into shock.

  “Oh, geez,” he said. “Geez, Jerry, I think she’s dead.”


  Lemmons took only a few seconds to take stock of the situation. He stared at the girl, then at Driscoll, then looked at the other policemen. “Well, hell,” he said. “This comes out, we’re all jacked.”

  Forsyth appeared to be in shock, himself. He reached for the microphone on his shoulder, but Lemmons grabbed his hand before he could activate it. “What the hell?” Forsyth demanded. “We need to call for an ambulance, maybe it’s not too late, maybe…”

  Slocum was staring at his partner. “Oh, Jesus,” he said. “They’ll hang us all! What the hell are we gonna do?”

  The other cops looked from one to another, then all of them turned toward Lemmons. They simply stared at him for a moment, until he nodded his head.

  “We finish this,” he said. The others stared at him for a moment, then Lemmons and Forsyth’s partner put their hands around the boys’ throats. Forsyth only stood there, his mouth agape.

  It was over in a matter of minutes, as both boys went limp and breathed their last. When it was all over, Lemmons motioned toward Slocum. “Got anything in your trunk we can use to wrap them up?” he asked coldly. “Last thing we need is any of their blood showing up inside a car.”

  Slocum stared at him for a few seconds longer, then jogged over to the car and opened the trunk. He came back a moment later with an orange tarpaulin, and Lemmons helped him spread it out on the ground. They laid the three kids’ bodies on it, and then Lemmons and the cop who’d strangled the other boy wiped their hands off on the girl’s clothing. Seconds later, the four uniform officers picked up the unwieldy bundle and carried it to the trunk of the squad car.

  The camera couldn’t quite see what was going on, but the faint sounds made it obvious they were pushing and shoving the bodies inside. Lemmons had followed them back behind the car, and while Sam could hear him speaking, he couldn’t make out the words.

  Slocum and his partner got into the car and started it up, while the other two officers climbed into their own. Both cars drove away, leaving Lemmons alone at the scene. He pulled a small flashlight out of a pocket and shined it down on the ground, examining the scene for any signs of what had happened there. He kicked dirt over what must have been spatters of blood, then turned and started toward where he had left his car. For a brief moment, he glanced directly at the camera and seemed to stare at it for just a couple of seconds, but then he passed out of view.

  The video ended, and Sam stared at the blank screen for several seconds before turning his gaze back to Marty.

  “Lemmons is bad enough,” he said, “but you’re not just dealing with him. There are five city cops on that video, and any one of them would want you dead. I’m sure Lemmons has got them working with him, and I don’t even know who one of them is. If this gets out before we find Tracy, I expect at least one or two of them would disappear in a hurry, and we’d probably never find her at all.”

  Marty nodded. “That’s why I haven’t even tried to do anything with it. It’s bad enough those kids are dead, but how many more will they kill to cover it up? I mean, my folks still live in Littleton, and there’s always Tracy’s husband and daughter. Sooner or later, they’re going to start thinking about who else they could use against me, so I figured the best thing I could do is make sure they can’t reach me. A threat like that wouldn’t help if they don’t know how to get it to me, right?”

  Sam looked at him for a moment, then slowly turned his head and scanned the park around them. “The trouble with that is, if I could find you this easily then so can they. In fact, I’m kind of wondering why they haven’t done anything about you yet.”

  8

  Marty looked around nervously. “Geez, you think they’re watching me now?”

  Sam shrugged. “I don’t see any sign of it, but it’s possible. They have access to the same phone records I used to find you, though it’s possible they might not have realized the strange number these last few days must have gone to you. Sooner or later, they will, and you don’t want to be where they can find you if that happens.”

  Sam took a pen and a small notepad out of his pocket and scribbled something down. He tore off the page and passed it to Marty, who glanced at it.

  I’m driving the Corvette. Follow me when I leave, but toss that phone out here. I’ll take you to my dad’s old hunting cabin. You’ll hide there while I figure out what to do about this. Don’t say anything about this out loud. Possible to listen in on phone even when off. I’m trying to keep you safe.

  Marty read through the note quickly, then looked up at Sam. He nodded without saying a word, then took the phone out of his pocket and tossed it out the window.

  Sam stepped out of the van and walked directly to the Corvette, leaning on his cane as his hip gave him trouble. He heard the van start behind him as he approached the car, then climbed in and fired it up. He pushed in the clutch and put the car in gear, then glanced toward the van as he began to pull away. He nodded once to himself as the van pulled out and moved to fall in behind him.

  As soon as they were out of town, Sam took out his phone and called his wife. "Hey, Babe," he said when she answered. "I found him, right where you said he would be."

  "Okay," she said. "Did he have any idea what might have happened to Tracy?"

  "He’s told me what he knows," Sam said. "I now have a pretty good idea what’s going on and who might be behind her disappearance. Has Herman come up with anything on Jerry?"

  "Nothing special," Indie said. "He tends to spend a lot of time at the casinos in Black Hawk, and he’s been reprimanded twice this year for excessive use of force. Is there anything in particular I should be looking for?"

  "Just anything that might be generally suspicious. I’m not going to go into it over the phone, but there’s something truly horrible involved in all this, and he has plenty of reason to want it kept quiet."

  Indie frowned, and Sam could hear it in her voice. "Sam, should I be worried?"

  "I don’t think so, not at this point at any rate. I doubt he knows that I’m on to any of this just yet. If he does, then you can definitely be worried about your hubby, but I think I can handle myself. I’m more concerned about the things your mom said. Marty and Tracy would be two of the lives I need to save, but I don’t have a lead on the third one yet."

  "Unless it’s your own."

  "I’ll confess that could be a possibility," Sam said, "and now that I think of it, I’ve changed my mind. I want you to take Kenzie and go somewhere safe. It’s probably not going to be long before Jerry knows I’m involved in this, and that could make you both targets. Take the grandmas with you, too." Sam chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. "Indie, how likely is it that the police can trace a phone as easily as you can?"

  "How likely? They could probably do it even faster than Herman. Frankly, I’m surprised they hadn’t already found Marty. The only thing I can figure is that they didn’t realize the new number on Tracy’s list of calls had to be going to him."

  "Let’s think about this for a moment," Sam said. "They had Tracy’s phone logs, because that’s where you got them, right? That means they could see everything you could, so what would be the chance they would miss a clue that big?"

  "I grant you, that does seem kind of odd," Indie said. "But if they saw it, and really wanted to get to him, how on earth could you have gotten to him first? They would have either already had him, or someone would have been watching him when you got there."

  Sam worried his bottom lip again. "Indie, get off the phone and get out of there, now. Leave your phone at home, leave all the phones at home, and get out of town. Get yourself a throwaway and call me once you’ve gotten somewhere safe. And don’t forget, I love you. Kiss Kenzie for me. Get moving, now."

  "We love you too," Indie said and the line went dead.

  Sam put the phone back in his pocket, then concentrated on his driving, heading north on Route 50 again. His mind was racing, trying to decide just how to handle the situation he had found himself in.

 
Marty stayed on his tail as he drove. They made it as far as Glenwood, and then Marty begin flashing his lights. Sam took the hint and pulled in at the next gas station.

  "Sorry about this," Marty said. "I wasn’t expecting to take a trip today, so it didn’t occur to me to gas up."

  "Don’t worry about it," Sam replied. "I could stand to top off myself." He slid a card into the reader on the gas pump, then opened his gas cap and pushed the nozzle inside. He squeezed the handle to start the gas flowing, then looked back at Marty. "You got gas money?"

  "Yeah, I got it." Like Sam, he used a card to start the gas flowing. "So, this place we’re going. Nobody else knows about it?"