Fatal Justice: Vigilante Justice Series 1 with Jack Lamburt

by John Etzil

  I held out hope that it was a false alarm, that the plates would be from some lost soul from Arkansas. Then I could jog back to my truck and be on my way in no time, the whole episode being nothing more than a small delay that wouldn’t make a difference in the night’s pleasure that awaited me. Finally at about three feet away, I could make out the license plate. King Rex. Damn.

  Tinted windows prevented me from seeing inside, so I had to make a decision. Did I risk walking around to the front of the vehicle to see inside? If someone was inside, I’d be an easy target. Did I create a distraction, try to lure them out? I’d give away my advantage of surprise if I did that. I could forget about the SUV for now, assume that all three of them were here, and sneak around to look in a back window of the Red Barn to see what was going on inside. But if they had a lookout, then I risked being spotted. I couldn’t rush the decision and make things worse, but I couldn’t sit around all night either. I knew that at least one evildoer was here.

  I made my decision and walked over to the tree line in the back of the parking lot. I planned on following it to the rear of the building and looking in some windows.

  I’d gotten about half way there when the door to the Red Barn opened, and Debbie and Mary Sue stepped out, acting as if everything was normal. That made me feel better. They stopped and chatted, and I mentally urged them to get in their cars and drive away, but my telepathy was shooting blanks and they stood there gabbing. Sheesh.

  Finally, Mary Sue made a laughing comment about freezing her buns off and the two of them got in their vehicles and started them up. Their windshields were covered with snow, so they got out, gloved them clean, and got back in and waited for the defroster to do its job.

  From behind I heard the big Cadillac engine start up. I realized right away what had happened. Ostrich Boy was going to follow one of them, probably Mary Sue, and I had made a critical error by being so far from my vehicle. If she took off now and he followed her, I’d never be able to get to my truck in time to follow them. I chided myself for my rookie mistake.

  My adrenaline doubled down and my heart raced, pounding so loud in my ears that I swear everyone within five blocks could hear it. I holstered my Glock and tore ass down the street toward my truck in a full-blown sprint that would have made Usain Bolt stand and cheer.

  I had a good three hundred feet to go before I reached St. Anna’s parking lot when from behind I heard a car creep across the snow-covered gravel lot of the Red Barn. I turned around just in time to see headlights swing around and head in my direction.

  I needed to hide, fast, otherwise I’d be seen. I saw a row of small evergreens and dove behind them, sliding on my stomach in the snow, just as Mary Sue’s VW sped past me. She was going way too fast on the slick road. I’d have to have a chat with her about her driving habits.

  It was close, but I wasn’t spotted. A couple of seconds passed and I saw what I was afraid of. The Cadillac SUV pulled out of Charlotte Valley Road and followed Mary Sue’s car on Route 10.

  When the SUV passed me, its big four-hundred-horsepower engine roaring loud to accelerate the three-ton machine, I peered in the side window and saw a single occupant. Ostrich Boy.

  7

  Debbie still hadn’t left the parking lot yet, but when she did she’d be heading my way. I didn’t want to take a chance on her seeing me, but I had no choice. I had to get going in my truck before I lost Ostrich Boy.

  The defroster gods were on my side and they took their time clearing the windshield of Debbie’s BMW. I made it back to my truck and with wheels spinning and kicking up snow I tore ass out of the church parking lot and onto Route 10. I looked up in my rearview mirror and saw the familiar sight of Debbie’s halogen headlights pulling out from the parking lot. That was close.

  I accelerated and pulled away, impressed with my little Toyota’s power as I passed through seventy-five, tightened my seat belt, and backed off when I touched ninety. The roads were wet from the fallen snow, but not yet frozen. At least not where I was, but it wouldn’t surprise me to start running into frozen patches of road. The squiggly “Bridge Freezes Before Roadway” sign popped into my head and I tried to remember if I would be racing over any of the thousands of small bridges that crossed the many streams and creeks that meandered through upstate New York. I drew a blank. Damn warm beer.

  I rounded a slight bend and spotted the taillights of the SUV and backed off the gas. I didn’t want to get too close and get made. Some law enforcement officers might actually opt for that. One of the techniques for thwarting emotional crime, which this was a case of, was delay—the thinking being that the longer the interaction between attacker and victim was delayed, the more likely that the aggressor would get over his anger towards his victim and move on. I could pull up to the SUV with my lights off and force him off the road, sending him to the hospital for the night.

  I didn’t believe in that theory. Not even close. I’d listened in on enough illegally tapped phone calls to understand that you never gave these guys a second chance. If you had an advantage, like the one of surprise that I had now, you used it.

  I resisted the urge to pull up alongside him and empty my Glock into the side of his face. While that would be satisfying, his dead body would bring unwanted attention, so I had to be patient and see what developed. I knew that Mary Sue’s house was still a few miles away, but I didn’t know what Ostrich Boy’s plan was. I did know that it wasn’t good, and that he was going to die tonight. Other than that, I was at a loss.

  In one stretch of road where Route 10 upsloped and curved slightly, I could see the SUV stalking Mary Sue’s car in the same view. The short little greasy-haired bastard was doing an admirable job of keeping a safe distance from her so that he wouldn’t be spotted, and I used the time to think through possible scenarios.

  Would he force her off the road? I doubted it. Too risky. Someone could drive by, see them, and offer assistance. Or just drive by, keep going, and now you had a witness.

  Would he follow her to her house and break in after she went inside? That was risky too; Ostrich Boy had no way of knowing if anyone else was home, and everyone in Summit, and most of upstate New York, had at least one hunting rifle handy. I had a .22, a .223, a .30-06, and a twelve-gauge shotgun. And lots of ammo. Glock was my pistol of choice, and I had three 17s, one in each bedroom, all locked away in quick access furniture safes. I had dozens of 9mm spare clips lying all over the house, like most homes had ashtrays in the seventies.

  The more I thought about it, the more I became convinced that he’d follow Mary Sue to her house and kill her. And anyone else who happened to be there.

  Armed or not, before the average American homeowner could put down his beer and escape from his recliner, the intruder already has his gun pointed at him, or worse yet, at a loved one. I’ve never met a man who could emotionally detach himself from that scenario and negotiate out of it. Most of them dropped their weapons when ordered, and of course it’s game over at that point.

  My iPhone vibrated. I grabbed it, swiped, and read the text.

  Debbie: Where are you?

  I speed-dialed her number and hit speaker. She answered on the first ring.

  “Well?” she asked. Her voice had an acidic quality to it. Damn. She was pissed off at me.

  “Sorry, babe, work called.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Can’t say. Not sure how long I’ll be, either.”

  “Great.” A pause followed and I heard her sigh. “Fine. Be safe.”

  “Will do,” I said. “Sorry, but I’ll…”

  She’d hung up before I could finish telling her that I was going to make it up to her. Sheesh, women. My work was one of the obstacles that we had in our on-again, off-again relationship. Most women would be okay with their man disappearing for hours, days, and on rare occasion, weeks at a time while he took care of business, knowing that one of the driving forces in his psyche was coming home and wrapping his arms around her.

  D
ebbie wasn’t one of them.

  I frowned. It wasn’t like I was out getting drunk and chasing woman. She knew that my investigative and undercover work was important to me. Didn’t matter. She was one fiery woman. Not the stereotypical Asian woman in that regard.

  “Douchebag!” I cursed Ostrich Boy for ruining our night and smacked the steering wheel. Now he was really going to pay for this.

  Up ahead I saw his brake lights flash and he started to slow down. He turned onto Clapper Hollow Road, where Mary Sue lived. He turned his lights out and crawled along the gravel road after her.

  I flew by the intersection to avoid being made, rounded a curve on Route 10, jammed on the brakes, and slid into a speeding U-turn that would have made Evel Knievel white-knuckle the armrest. I dimmed my interior dash lights and turned on to the sparsely traveled Clapper Hollow Road.

  Since Mary Sue’s parents were away on their annual fishing trip to Key West I planned on her being home alone. Probably for the best. If things went south inside the home, the fewer people I had to deal with, the better. And in all honesty, Stuart was a great surgeon and a fine gentleman, but he wouldn’t be my first choice to back me up in a barroom brawl. I would probably select Frances before I picked him. No, I take that back. No probably about it.

  I was getting close to Mary Sue’s house when I saw the SUV pulled over on the side of the road. He must have seen her signal and pull into her driveway. I used my emergency brake to stop so that my brake lights wouldn’t give me away, and killed the engine. I’d be hoofing it from here.

  I took out my Glock, screwed on my Osprey silencer, and stepped out into the cold night.

  8

  I used the tree line along the side of the road as cover, and within thirty seconds I arrived along the side of his SUV.

  It was empty.

  I’d expected as much. He hadn’t driven out here to sit around in his car. I hadn’t quite figured out what I was going to do if I found him in the SUV, but I knew that it would be bad for him. And bad for me if I got caught, but I’d been in this game a long time, and if there was one thing I was really good at, and I mean Super Bowl Champion good, it was getting away with murder.

  Mary Sue’s house was set back about a hundred and fifty feet from Clapper Hollow Road. The long, winding stone driveway ended at a two-car garage in a modern colonial. They had already decorated for Christmas, with a well-lit outdoor manger scene that included three full-size kings bearing gifts. Along with the soft glow of the outdoor lights, it looked like a Hallmark holiday card.

  No sign of Ostrich Boy, but I’d figured as much. If I were in his shoes, I’d be at the back of the house by now, searching for a weak entry point.

  With tingling nerves and my Glock leading the way, I snuck up the side of the driveway furthest from the house. There was a light smattering of snow on the driveway, and I could make out what appeared to be two sets of fresh tire tracks in the snow. Damn, that wasn’t good. That meant that someone had either just arrived, or just left. God, I hoped they’d just left. But who would it be? Her parents were away and she didn’t have any siblings. Boyfriend? Girlfriend? I’d find out soon enough.

  I was in the zone, every cell in my body in tune with the sights and sounds of the night. It was too cold for the cricket serenade, so the only sound I heard was my own hiking boots compacting the snow with each step.

  The closer I got to the house, the brighter it became, and I could easily see that there were two sets of tire tracks in the snow. I rounded the last curve in the driveway. Bad news.

  Two cars were parked in front of the garage. One was Mary Sue’s, and the other was a late-model Ford Mustang, its windows clear of snow and the hood still warm. Her boyfriend’s car? A friend? Didn’t matter. It was still another innocent person that had to be dealt with.

  I went to the front of the house and looked through the windows to see if Ostrich Boy was already inside. There was some risk in that, if he was hiding in the woods, maybe having second-guessed his adventure, or more likely still trying to plan out his attack with his pea-sized brain, he would see me and have the upper hand. But I didn’t figure a guy like him for well-thought-out actions, so I went ahead.

  I had to dodge the rectangular shafts of light that illuminated the snow-covered lawn. It seemed like each room in the house had a light on. I’d have to have a little chat with Mary Sue about wasting energy too. Maybe her parents weren’t as perfect as I thought.

  Feeling like a Peeping Tom, I knelt down before I reached the first window and raised my eyes up, just above the sill in the corner, to peek inside. Nothing. I ducked my head, crawled to the next window, and repeated my slow-motion jack-in-the-box routine. Nothing, except snow-soaked knees and frozen hands.

  I went from window to window until I’d covered the whole length of the front of the house, not seeing any signs of life from within.

  I continued around the corner of the house, knowing that if I came up empty, I’d work my way around the back. I’d find him there. If not, I’d find his entry point and follow him in. I didn’t look forward to a confrontation inside the house, but I didn’t want to be here to begin with either, and look how that worked out.

  The side of the house was dark, something that I was thankful for. I stood up and stretched out my stiff back. All this crawling around on hands and knees was for the birds.

  I didn’t see anyone through the two windows on each side of the massive brick fireplace, the clear focal point of the family room. There was a tall Christmas tree against the far wall, and it cast a holiday spirit glow throughout the room. “Silent Night” played in my head.

  I worked my way around to the rear of the house and peered around the corner. I watched for a while but didn’t hear or see anything in the backyard.

  I saw a gigantic multilayer deck on the back of the house with a wide staircase that came off the corner at a forty-five-degree angle. The deck led up to an all-glass double slider, something I might have to come back to in a bit.

  I walked around the outside of the deck and headed over to take a peek in a bay window that I figured would give me a view of the kitchen. I knelt down as I got closer, peeked through the corner, and there they were.

  9

  Mary Sue was sitting in a kitchen chair against the far wall, her hands tied behind her back with what looked like electrical cord. Her ankles were tied to the leg of the chair. Her face was bruised and there was some blood on her white server’s shirt. She was stifling her sobs, her eyes shut, her body shaking.

  A kid who looked to be college-aged sat next to her, and he was tied up the same way she was. He was big, not quite my six foot six inches, but pretty close. Muscular too, almost Greek god-ish in his physique, and probably weighed more than my two twenty. He had his head hung low and he was crying. A mixture of drool and blood dripped from his mouth.

  Ostrich Boy paced back and forth before them, gesturing with his hands. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but I was sure that whatever it was, it wouldn’t make the final cut of a Hallmark card selection.

  I grabbed the handle of the sliding glass door, Glock pointed at him in case he heard me. I didn’t want to double-tap him in the chest inside Mary Sue’s house, but I would if I had to. I slid open the door so slow that it seemed to take thirty seconds to create enough of an opening for me to step through. Good thing I wasn’t fat.

  I stepped inside the carpeted family room. Up two steps and I’d be in the kitchen. I prayed that Mary Sue wouldn’t give away my presence with her eyes.

  She looked up and saw me, but there was no change in her facial expression. Good girl. If this college thing didn’t work out for her, she had a bright future as a poker player.

  Ostrich Boy had stopped pacing and stood in front of the kid. “This your fuckin’ boyfriend?” He shook his head side to side, and even with his back to me I could see the disapproval in his body language. He reared back and smacked the kid in the face.

  “No, please stop.” The kid
choked back sobs. “Please let me go, I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

  Ostrich Boy smacked him again. “You’re a fuckin’ pussy.” He was right. The kid was much bigger than Ostrich Boy but mentally he was a submissive pansy. I fought hard to stop the sigh of disgust from parting my lips. What a waste of a powerful physique.

  Mary Sue’s tone was soft and calm when she answered him between sniffles. “No, he’s just a friend.” Thank God. If this clown was her boyfriend, I’d have to have a heart-to-heart with her about that too.

  “Just a friend, eh? You fucking whore, this is what happens when you dis me.” He reared back and slapped her across her face with his open hand. He laughed, unbuckled his dress slacks, and dropped them to his ankles. “Now the fun starts.” He grabbed her by the hair, yanked her head back, and stepped in closer. “Open your mouth.”

  I tiptoed up behind him. The crying kid noticed me and let out a yelp. Jeez, he was such a loser. Ostrich Boy saw the kid looking past him and stopped what he was doing. He turned around so fast that he nearly stumbled. Good thing he was wearing those fancy boots to keep him from stepping out of his dress pants.

  10

  Ostrich Boy’s eyes bugged out when he saw me, but it was too late for him to do anything. I kicked him in the nuts, a direct hit—not an easy task for such a small target, and I patted myself on the back for my expertise in accuracy. Bruce Lee would have been proud.

  The violent smack of leather on the fragile genital skin disturbed even a hardass like me. Yuck. Sometimes I hate my job. I made a mental note to acid-wash my boots with a wire brush when I got home.