There were more murmurs, and even Paul was now conferring with other members. I saw Matthew stand.
“Chaser Carter, do you have a plan to deal with this Runner?”
“I do, Brother Matthew.”
The room fell silent again, and this time I didn’t wait for a signal.
“I’ll be leaving after this meeting to go to Springfield. It is my intention to research the location of the Runner’s boyhood home, stake it out, and confront him there.”
“And if he isn’t there?”
“Then it is likely that his mother was buried in a Springfield cemetery. I can often pick up a trail at just such a place.”
Matthew sat down. I waited for the Council to digest what I’d told them. Eventually, Paul stood.
“We want to thank you for your efforts on our behalf, and for your service to our Lord. Please go forth with our blessings and our prayers.”
“Thank you, Brother Paul. Thank you to the Council for their confidence in me.”
“Please keep us current on any developments through our emissary, Miss Tanner.”
I looked over to where Rachel had been standing, but she was gone.
“I will attempt to report regularly.”
“God’s speed, my brother.”
Paul moved toward the door, and the rest of the Council rose to follow him. The door opened, Rachel reappearing behind it. When the last of the maroon robes disappeared, she closed the door, and came over to me. “You did great!”
I gathered up the file and gave her a sheepish grin. “Thanks.”
We walked in silence toward the exit, and she opened the door for me. “You’ll call me, Jack?”
Her eyes stared intently into mine, and though I assumed she meant in reference to the chase, I couldn’t be sure by the tone of her voice. “As soon as I have news.”
I stepped out into the sunshine and she closed the door behind me.
*******
I pulled off the highway into a small shopping mall. Buddy had made a reservation at a Hertz Rent-a-Car during my meeting. He got out and grabbed his bag. Leaning back in through the window, he fixed me with a pointed look.
“I’m your Counselor, Jack. You need anything, you call. Understand?”
I nodded. “Thanks, Buddy. Say hi to Sarah for me.”
He tousled Bear’s fur. “I will.”
As he walked away, I left the parking lot alone. I’d been on many chases without even Bear to keep me company, but I felt particularly alone this time as I pulled back onto the highway.
I decided to call Mandy. After several rings, it went to voicemail. I didn’t leave a message. Springfield, Missouri, was roughly five hours away, so I turned on the radio and pointed the Ranchero toward the western horizon.
Chapter 5
U.S. Highway 60 wound its way along the southern border of Missouri, running from Cape Girardeau to Neosho. It was the main thoroughfare for numerous small Ozark towns, and eventually came to its biggest stop, Springfield.
A city of over a hundred thousand, it was once called the ‘Best Place in America to Retire.’ I arrived as the sun was going down and found a pet-friendly Ramada Inn just off the highway. Tired from the trip, I fed Bear and called it a night. Turning on the TV, I promptly fell asleep.
*******
The sun leaking through the drapes brought me around the next morning. The clock said six thirty, and Bear’s face said get up. I did, and dressed for breakfast. After eggs and sausage at Denny’s—actually just eggs, since Bear got most of my sausage—I headed toward Springfield City Hall.
Located in the old section of the city, it was an imposing castle-like structure, complete with turrets and thick, wooden double doors. A giant clock on the south face of the building chimed every hour, despite the fact that the hour hand was missing.
Inside the front door, a man in a security uniform was stationed at the information desk. He directed me to the records office on the second floor. I took the concrete steps instead of the ancient elevator. It looked older than the one in my office building, which meant it might have been the first one old Mr. Otis invented. Nothing against Otis, but I didn’t like elevators.
Reaching the top of the steps and coming out onto worn linoleum, I turned right and went through the glass door announcing ‘Records.’ A large wooden counter, the stain faded from decades of people leaning against it, formed a wall dividing the front of the room from the shelves in back. Several library-style tables, stocked with multiple computers, were available on either side of the doorway.
The elderly lady at the counter closed the book she was making an entry in and smiled. “Can I help you?”
“I hope so. I need to see some real estate records.”
Gray, almost white, hair bobbed up and down. “Okay. What in particular are we looking for?”
“The Land Deed transactions from the eighteen-sixties.”
“Oh? That’s long time ago. Are you working on a research project at Missouri State?”
Missouri State University was located in Springfield, and I imagined most requests in this department were from college students. I shook my head. “No, just a personal inquiry.”
“Okay.” She flipped open the book she’d just closed. “Sign in here and I’ll find your books.”
“Thank you.”
The clerk, whose nametag identified her as Mary, was back in less than ten minutes. Wearing a pair of white cotton gloves, she carried two leather-bound journals, each nearly three feet tall, but only a few inches thick. She laid them on the counter.
“These have not been added to the computer records yet, so I’m afraid you’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way. Please use gloves.” She gestured to a box at the far end of the counter.
I got a pair and put them on. Picking up the books, I thanked her and went to the nearest table. Laying the books down, I carefully opened the first one.
Handwritten entries ran from top to bottom on the tall pages, with each divided into five columns. Date, buyer, seller, price, and location were all logged in neat, old handwriting. Most entries were legible, and I hoped none of the ones that weren’t didn’t belong to Mrs. Douglas.
I knew Richard Douglas had moved here when he was three, but his current age was still in doubt, and the closest I could get was the decade between eighteen-sixty and eighteen-seventy. I started on page one and ran my finger down the buyer column. I was looking for the name Bertha Douglas, and it only took a couple pages to realize I would be at this for a while.
I looked around for a coffee machine, and not seeing one, asked Mary. “Coffee?”
“Out in the hall.”
“Thank you.”
A few minutes later, I returned with the biggest cup the machine sold, and restarted my search. Four hours passed before my finger stopped near the top of a page almost halfway through the second book.
6/18/1866; Douglas, Bertha
The record indicated she’d bought a house at 402 Walnut Street for one hundred seventy-five dollars.
I returned the journals to Mary, and went out to the car. I was headed for the Serpent’s boyhood home, but first Bear and I needed some lunch.
*******
After driving through a Burger King, and giving most of my lunch to the moocher in back, I followed Glenstone Street north into the poorest section of the city. Walnut Street crossed Glenstone, and after turning right to find the house numbers climbing from 700 on up, I turned around. Re-crossing Glenstone, I made my way slowly past the small house at 402.
It was a single-story wood-framed box, surrounded by falling down chain-link fence and in desperate need of paint. No car was parked in the dirt driveway, and I wasn’t certain the house was even inhabited.
I turned around at the far end of the street, and drove back by. As I rolled past, I watched Bear for a reaction, but she didn’t appear to sense the Runner.
I rounded the block, trying to get a view into the backyard of 402, but could only make out a yard fu
ll of trash. I drove around front, pulled into the driveway, and got out. Bear still didn’t seem to sense any activity.
I walked up to the front window and peered in. An old couch, the cushions missing, and an overturned coffee table were the only furniture. The place was empty.
Bear next to me, I tried the door. It gave easily, and as I walked inside, the big dog stayed close. As I went back toward the kitchen, Bear started to whine. I froze in place and reached out with my senses.
When Bear whines, she’s sensed something that isn’t an immediate threat. It took me several minutes standing there to pick it up for myself. A Runner had been here.
Runners leave a piece of their aura behind that evaporates over time. It’s kind of like the wake of a boat, spreading out and away until there’s no sign a boat had passed that way. Only a Chaser’s senses can pick it up this aura, and a special dog like Bear can find it even faster. I rubbed her neck. “Good work, girl.”
Buddy had been right. Either the Serpent would be here waiting or would have bugged out. It appears he took option two, but he must have known I was coming.
I returned to the car, and backed out of the driveway, just as my phone rang. I stopped in the middle of the street to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Jack, it’s Mom.”
My mother, Annie Carter, called me regularly. Since Dad died, worrying about me had become Mom’s full-time job.
“Hi, Mom. I’m a kinda busy; can I call you back in a little while?”
“No.”
That caught me off guard, and my heart started to pound. “No?”
“Jack, I’ve got some bad news.”
I pulled the car back into the driveway and put it in park. “What kind of bad news?”
“It’s about Amanda.”
Mom calls Mandy by her full name, although I’m not sure why. Panic began to rise in my chest. “What about Mandy?”
“I don’t know how else to tell you but to just come right out with it. She’s been shot.”
It didn’t register. I must have heard her wrong.
“Jack?”
“Yeah, Mom. Can you say that again?”
“Mandy was shot on duty this morning.”
Tears welled up in my eyes, as panic took hold of my brain. “Is she okay?”
My mother’s voice trembled. “I don’t know. I saw it on the news just a little while ago.”
I pawed at my eyes, trying to clear the tears. “I gotta go, Mom. I’ll call you later.”
I hung up the phone and launched its internet browser. Punching the shortcut to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch website, I waited impatiently for the page to load. When it did, I was met with the headline story.
Detective Amanda Myers was shot this morning while delivering a search warrant on the south side of the city. At this time, we do not have an update on the condition of the officer or the suspect, who was also wounded. More updates to follow.
A picture of a small house surrounded by crime tape was below the story.
I tried Mandy’s phone and got her voicemail again.
“Mandy, it’s me. If you can call me, please do. I need to know if you’re okay.”
I hung up, spun the Ranchero backward into the street, and sped for St. Louis.
*******
It wasn’t until I was nearly two hours gone from Springfield that it occurred to me I had just left a chase. While this troubled me, knowing what my priority as Chaser should have been, it was not in me to turn around. I had to know if Mandy was okay.
I was still nearly three hours away from home, and the fear of losing Mandy was paralyzing, so I kept myself focused on getting there in one piece. It finally dawned on me that I could call Buddy.
“Hello?”
“Buddy, it’s Jack.”
There was a hesitation that spoke volumes. “Hi, Jack.”
“Did you hear about Mandy?”
“Yes.”
I was confused. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I wanted to Jack, but…”
“But?”
“But I knew you were on a chase. I didn’t want you worrying about Mandy while trying to complete your mission.”
Now I was angry. “Buddy! I would’ve called you if something happened to Sarah.”
His voice remained calm. “I know.”
“Then why didn’t you call me?”
“Because if you had called me with such news, I would’ve had to finish the mission anyway, only I may have gotten myself killed because I was distracted by worry.”
I was speechless.
Did he just say what I think he said? Would he really stay on task when his wife was hurt? Was this his way of telling me I was making a mistake?
“Jack, where are you?”
I didn’t want to tell him.
“Jack?”
“I’m on my way back to town.”
A long silence followed. I answered his question without him asking.
“I haven’t found the Serpent yet.”
Another long silence.
“Buddy…how’s Mandy?”
“News report said she’d had surgery and was in stable condition.”
I felt myself take the first deep breath in hours. ‘Stable’ meant I probably wasn’t going to lose her.
“I have to see her, Buddy.”
“I understand, Jack, and I don’t blame you. However, there’s a bigger issue at stake here.”
“I know.”
For the third time, he paused, and I sensed he was trying to decide what to do. I could tell he wanted to try and dissuade me from continuing home, but I guess he finally decided it was pointless.
“She’s at St. Louis Methodist Hospital. Let me know when you hit town and I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay.”
We hung up, and I found my concern for Mandy replaced by my concern for the chase. I hoped I would get back in time.
*******
St. Louis Methodist was a typical big city hospital; ten blocks of medical buildings crammed into a seven-block area. Beige outside, beige inside, and hallways that gave the best corn maze a run for its money.
Mandy was in the Intensive Care Unit on the third floor, and she was still unconscious when I arrived. Buddy and Sarah were sitting in the waiting area across the hall, and when I came in, they both gave me a hug.
“How is she?”
Buddy shrugged. “They won’t tell us anything because we’re not family.”
“Okay, let me see what I can find out.”
I walked down to the nurse’s station but didn’t see anyone, so I’d turned to come back to the waiting room, when Officer Danny Thornton got off the elevator.
“Danny, how’s it going?”
“Jack, long time. Everything going okay?”
“Pretty good. I’m here to check on Mandy.”
“Oh, well, I was just going to relieve the on-duty guard.”
“Can you find out her condition for me?”
Danny knew Mandy and I went way back. “Sure. They haven’t given you an update?”
“I’m not family.”
“You’re as close as she’s got. Hang out in the waiting room and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Danny.”
I returned to the waiting area and had just filled in Sarah and Buddy when a doctor came into the room. “Jack Carter?”
I spun around. “That’s me.”
“My name’s Dr. Jeff Mazzoli. I performed the surgery on your friend.”
“How is she?”
“She’s resting comfortably. Ms. Myers sustained a gunshot to her right side. It missed the vital organs, but lodged near her pelvis. We removed the bullet and repaired as much tissue damage as we could.”
“Is she going to be okay?”
“I don’t believe she’ll suffer any long-term effects, but we won’t know for sure until she’s up and around.”
“Can I see her?”
“Officer Thornt
on explained your relationship with Ms. Myers, and I have no problem with you seeing her, but we’ll be keeping her knocked out until at least tomorrow morning.”
“I understand. I would really like to sit with her, if I could.”
“Go ahead. Officer Thornton will let you in.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
I turned to Buddy and Sarah. “Can you take Bear home with you?”
Buddy put his hand on my shoulder. “Sure thing, Jack. Say a prayer with her for us.”
We embraced again. “I will, and I’ll call you later.”
I went across the hall and through the door Danny held open for me. Mandy was in a private room, the curtains drawn across the window, and only a small desk lamp on the side table providing light.
Mandy had a tube in her throat, another leading from her arm to an IV bag hanging by her bedside, and a third tube going to a drain bag.
Several monitors stood silent watch over her condition while making repetitive patterns on the multiple screens.
I leaned over the bed and kissed her on the forehead. Finding a doctor’s stool in the corner, I dragged it up next to the bed. I touched her face, fighting back the tears, wishing she could talk to me.
I took her hand in both of mine. “I love you, Mandy Myers.”
Chapter 6
The one downside to a private room happened to be the lack of a second bed. The lone chair in the room did recline, but only far enough to give me a crook in neck. I woke each time a nurse came in to check on Mandy.
By morning, I’d managed to finally get to sleep, but was stirred by the sound of voices.
“How long has he been here?”
“Since yesterday afternoon.”
My eyes popped open as my brain registered that one of the voices belonged to Mandy. I sat up to find her propped on some pillows, a food tray across her bed.
“Mandy, you’re awake.”
Her smile was partly a wince of pain. “I’ve been up for about an hour.”
I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
INNER DEMONS (THE CHASER CHRONICLES Book 4) Page 4