The TANNER Series - Books 4-6 (Tanner Box Set Book 2)

by Remington Kane

  “Um-hmm,” Lydia said. “But don’t go thinking I believe you. That farm you’re talking about, we call that place Forgotten Farm, because it just sits there year after year rotting away. Checking out the farm, that’s just me humoring you, and later, when the Feds come, it’ll save them doing the same.”

  Lydia left, and after ordering food, the chief began reading a book. That left Sara to stare across her cell at Tanner, who was studying her.

  “What the hell are you looking at?”

  “You, I was wondering what drives you.”

  “You know what drives me. It’s revenge, and when the FBI agents come and drag you out of here in shackles, I’ll at least have some small measure of satisfaction.”

  “But it won’t be the same, will it? You won’t be able to get that thrill, the high, which torturing me would have given you.”

  “I don’t enjoy hurting people; you would be an exception.”

  Tanner gave a little laugh.

  “What do you find so funny?”

  “I wouldn’t be an exception, Blake, I’d be an excuse, a way for you to let that thing that lives inside you come out and play.”

  “I’m not sadistic like you, Tanner. I don’t get off on killing people.”

  “Then why do you spend every waking hour planning my murder?”

  “Because you killed the man I loved, or is love an emotion you can’t fathom?”

  “You forget, I watched you and Ames together while I was closing in to kill him, and yes, you were in love, but you seemed no different to me than any other couple. Any woman in your position might want me dead, but the desire to torture, the obsessive pursuit, those come from a different place. If you ever did kill me, that hunger you feel wouldn’t die with me.”

  “Psychobabble bullshit from a man who makes his living killing people,”

  “I am a killer. I’m also a man who knows himself, and I see some of me in you.”

  Sara frowned.

  “I’m not like you, Tanner. I’m... I’m a good person.”

  Tanner lay back atop the bed.

  “There’s no good or bad, Blake, only people.”

  “Bullshit,” Sara said, but the word had no conviction in it, and a part of her feared that what he was saying was true.

  CHAPTER 13 - Lucky

  Cameron’s truck returned to earth after having plunged four feet, but the impact felt to her as if she had been dropped off the Empire State Building.

  No airbag deployed, because the old blue truck didn’t have one, but the seatbelt had dug into her with such force that she thought the strap had dislocated her shoulder, while the duffle bag which she normally kept on the seat in the rear, was now perched upside down atop the dashboard.

  After she recovered from the impact, Cameron hit the brakes. The truck shuddered, the belts squeaked and the engine cut off on its own.

  Cameron emerged from the truck while massaging her left shoulder and expected to find that the front tires had blown out.

  The tires were fine, as was the rest of the truck, and after several attempts, the motor started again.

  Cameron patted the steering wheel.

  “You’re a tough old girl, aren’t you?”

  The truck answered by continuing to purr its engine sounds. Cameron left it and walked back to look over the edge of the bridge.

  There was a nine-foot gap, and across the way, she could see that the other end of the short bridge had crumpled at its base, which caused the middle to rise up and break apart.

  Cameron was looking forward to reuniting with her brother in the afterlife someday, and had she been going any slower than she had, that reunion could have already occurred.

  Fortunately, no cars had fallen in, and Cameron had no doubt that had she plunged into the water that she would have been swept downstream by the powerful flow of the river below her.

  A car approached from the other way and Cameron was about to wave in warning, but saw the man slow well before nearing the edge.

  He was a young guy in a suit, maybe a sales rep of some kind. After leaving his car, he looked over the edge with wide eyes.

  “Whoa, the damn thing just fell apart.”

  He glanced over at Cameron, then at her truck, and then back at her, before pointing at the other side.

  “You drove off of that, didn’t you?”

  Cameron smiled.

  “I didn’t have much choice.”

  “Damn, and you made it in one piece too. Hey, buy a lottery ticket; this is obviously your lucky day.”

  The smile left Cameron’s face.

  “It’s not my lucky day, but I do plan to collect a prize.”

  She returned to her truck and drove into Ridge Creek. Although she had no idea how she would do it, she vowed to see her brother’s killer dead.

  ***

  Lydia left her cruiser blocking the entrance to the farm, and cupped her hands over the side window to check out the silver Toyota minivan that belonged to Tyler and Sherry.

  She did the same thing with Sara’s car and then moved on towards the house, where she looked inside Tanner’s pickup truck.

  When she reached the front porch, she saw the human shape wrapped up in sheets and placed her hand upon her weapon, what she failed to see, was Tyler, who was coming up behind her with his gun pointed her way.

  The front door flew open and Sherry stood there with her gun ready, but when she spotted Lydia, she dropped her hand to her side.

  “Oh, hi,”

  “Where’s Tyler?”

  “Right here,”

  Lydia spun around and smiled at him.

  “Aren’t you the sneaky one?”

  Tyler nodded and Lydia saw that his eyes were red from crying.

  “I’m sorry about Randall, Tyler.”

  “Yeah, but let’s get inside, we got a lot to talk about.”

  ***

  They had moved into the kitchen, where Tyler described Dean and Amy to Lydia.

  “You say the girl had real dark hair and was dressed all in black, while the boy was a redhead?”

  “Yeah, but not bright red, darker than that,”

  “Um-hmm, I think I know those kids, especially the girl, I mean, who the hell still dresses like a goth?”

  “Can you find them, Lydia?” Tyler asked.

  “Yeah, the girl lives over on 10th Street with her mom who only has one foot and a jacked-up eye. It’s the newest house on the block, because the woman won some kind of settlement or something years ago, but here’s the thing, we can’t just let those kids give back the money and walk away, because they’ll talk.”

  “Kill them,” Sherry said.

  “I will, but I’ll want half of Randall’s share for doing it.”

  Sherry leapt up from her seat.

  “You greedy bitch! You weren’t even at the robbery.”

  “No, I wasn’t, but I also wasn’t the one who left the money alone in the house. Any idiot would have hidden it before chasing after that woman.”

  Sherry’s eyes narrowed in anger.

  “Are you calling me stupid?”

  Tyler raised up his hands.

  “Enough! Lydia, go take care of them damn kids and get the money back.”

  Lydia smiled at Tyler.

  “I will. I’m someone you can count on.”

  They walked Lydia out to the front door and watched her splash her way back to her cruiser.

  Sherry’s scowl deepened as she thought about what Lydia had said.

  “Bitch, like I had time to hide the damn money. She was the one who told us this place was safe to stay at, now look at things, Randall is dead and the money is missing. It’s all her fault, all of it.”

  Tyler put an arm around Sherry’s shoulders to calm her down.

  “Things will work out, and while Lydia is busy looking for those kids, I’ll be busy too.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Those two that killed Randall are sitting right in that jail and I’m going down t
here and kill them.”

  “You can’t. The chief is there.”

  “I’ll take care of him too if I have to, but there ain’t no damn way they’re getting away with killing my brother.”

  “Don’t go, and we’ll get them another time.”

  Tyler shrugged on his jacket.

  “You stay here and wait for Lydia and I’ll be back soon.”

  “Tyler, no,”

  “I have to, Sherry, I have to.”

  Tyler left the farmhouse with murder on his mind, and Sherry wondered if she’d ever see him again.

  CHAPTER 14 - Like looking in a mirror

  The food arrived in the company of a middle-aged woman with wide hips and a ready smile. Her name was Bonnie and she recognized Tanner.

  “Where do you know him from, Bonnie?”

  “He was at Grover’s about a week ago, Chief. Had a hell of a fight too, Richie Clark and his friends ganged up on him, but he kicked all five of their asses and left with Joyce Rollins’ girl on his arm. You know, her youngest, Amber, and her friend too, the one with all the blond hair.”

  The chief stared through the bars at Tanner.

  “I heard about that fight, so this was the guy, hmm?”

  “That’s him.”

  The room grew dark as the power went off, but after only a few seconds, it came back on.

  “This storm is causing a lot of havoc,” Bonnie said. “On the way over here, I heard on the radio that the North Street Bridge collapsed.”

  The chief nodded.

  “Yeah, the state cops are handling it and those FBI guys say it’ll delay them some, they have to circle around through Bainville now, and half the roads there are flooded.”

  “Well, enjoy your food.”

  Bonnie took one last look at Tanner, smiled, and then left.

  The chief passed Tanner and Sara each a foam container that held a cheeseburger and fries, then returned with cans of soda, before settling at his desk to eat his own meal.

  Sara stared across at Tanner, who was making fast work of his cheeseburger.

  “You’ve been in this town for a week? What were you doing here?”

  Tanner ignored her and kept eating.

  “A man named Al Trent was here last week as well, what do you know about him?”

  More chewing, as Tanner’s eyes gazed about the room, as if looking for a way to escape.

  “That was Trent’s phone you were holding when I found you, so I know he’s been at that farm, what I don’t know is why.”

  Tanner remained silent, as he tried the French fries. By talking, Sara had answered a question for him, and he now knew the reason why she was at the house.

  She had been looking for Al Trent’s phone, not for him, and she had no idea that he was at the farm. That was good; it meant that when he killed her, his secret would stay safe. That is, if he also managed to escape from his cell.

  Sara huffed in exasperation at his silence and took a bite of her food.

  The door opened and Cameron Ryder strolled in. After sending the chief a nod, Cameron marched over to the cells to stare in at Sara and Tanner, but after giving Tanner only a few seconds of inspection, her eyes locked on Sara.

  “Chief, my name is Cameron Ryder. I’m a bounty hunter and a former cop, and this woman here killed my brother, Michael Ryder.”

  The chief walked over.

  Cameron had on a jacket and McCoy could make out the outline of the holster on Cameron’s hip.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, ma’am.”

  “I won’t, sir, that is, unless you’d be willing to step out and let me?”

  The chief released a long sigh.

  “I can’t do that, I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

  “I understand,” Cameron said and then she leaned her face against the bars and locked eyes with Sara. “You had better pray that you never see the light of day again, bitch, because if I get my hands on you, you will suffer, oh yes you will.”

  Sara stood and opened her mouth to assert her innocence, but Cameron had already turned and headed for the door.

  Sara sat back on her cot, and when she felt Tanner’s gaze on her, she looked his way.

  “How’s it feel to be on the receiving end?”

  “Shut up, Tanner.”

  Sara pushed the remainder of her food aside, as her appetite had disappeared.

  CHAPTER 15 - Run!

  Tyler parked across the street from the police station and checked his gun for the third time.

  Despite what he said to Sherry, he did not want to kill a cop if he didn’t have to, because he knew what kind of holy hell that would bring upon them.

  It was bad enough that Sherry killed Michael Ryder as they were leaving the bank, but once he killed a cop, even a small-time chief like McCoy, he knew that the man’s fellow officers wouldn’t rest until he was either locked up, or more likely, dead.

  The police station sat on the edge of town and was situated between two hills, each of which had a ten-foot bridge spanning a small stream. The streams would normally be well below the surface of their respective bridges, but today, the water was only inches from street level and showed white caps within the currents.

  The only building other than the police station was an old firehouse, which had been retired years ago. It was used only once a week, when it housed a flea market on Sundays.

  Few people had a reason to visit the area on a good day, and with the rain, the street was deserted.

  Tyler sat and listened to the drum of rain upon the minivan’s roof, and readied himself to cross the line.

  ***

  The chief was pacing inside the station.

  Lydia had called and said that there was nothing going on at the farm, and he thought she would be right back, but then that busybody Mrs. James called with a story about some kids “spending like drunken sailors” and Lydia went to see what that was all about.

  McCoy had tried to get in touch with Lydia again when he felt the urge for a drink overwhelm him, but she wasn’t answering her phone or radio, possibly because their communications were down.

  Sara spoke and McCoy stopped his pacing.

  “I don’t understand how your deputy didn’t see anything? Did she go inside the house?”

  “Of course not, there was no need to; she said that everything was locked up tight.”

  “But my car is in the driveway and there was also a pickup truck, even if the bank robbers left, those should still be there, as well as the man Tanner shot.”

  “Be quiet.”

  McCoy needed a drink and knew that he’d never make it through the next few hours without one. The liquor store was three blocks away, just the other side of the hill, and he could be there and back in no time, but there were the prisoners to think of.

  Aw hell, where are they going to go?

  “I’ll be back in a minute. There’s no way to escape those cells so don’t even try.”

  Sara gave McCoy an incredulous look.

  “What do you mean you’re leaving? I thought the FBI was on their way here?”

  “I’ll be right back!”

  McCoy left, and they could hear the sound of the door locking behind him.

  ***

  Tyler smiled wide as he watched McCoy U-turn and drive up the hill.

  He had just decided to kill the lawman along with his prisoners, consequences be damned, when the chief left the building and hopped into his cruiser.

  “Yes!”

  After looking around and seeing no one on the street, Tyler checked his gun for the final time and left the minivan, determined to place a bullet in Tanner’s head.

  ***

  Farther down the road, Cameron Ryder watched Tyler exit his vehicle and walk across the street.

  She could tell by his manner that he was up to no good, and she wondered if he was the person suspected of being the getaway driver. If so, he might be attempting a breakout.

  Tyler raised a foot and kicked at the front door
of the police station. It took three kicks, but the door swung open.

  As Tyler entered the station, Cameron got out of her truck and walked around to the rear, to get her shotgun out of the toolbox in the bed of the truck.

  She had just unlocked the toolbox when Lydia came flying down the hill and skidded to a stop in front of the police station.

  Cameron cursed, thinking that Lydia would keep her from getting revenge, but then realized that there was no guarantee that the deputy would win the firefight.

  Cameron removed the shotgun and just stood there for a moment. She was torn between wanting to back up the deputy or waiting to see which way things went. If she waited and the deputy lost, she would get her chance to avenge her brother’s death and cut down the bank robbers as they fled the jail, but waiting meant that the deputy might die.

  Not much of a choice, Cameron thought, as she chambered a round in the shotgun and headed towards the jail to help the deputy.

  That’s when movement up in the hills above the town caught her eye. Cameron stopped walking and stared up at it, squinting, trying to comprehend what she was seeing, and when she did, she knew that her shotgun would be useless against it.

  The hill she was gazing up at was too steep to build on, yet there had been small summer cottages perched atop its narrow crest. Beyond those sat a wide lake, Evansville Lake, in the neighboring town of Evansville.

  As Cameron looked on with widening eyes, she watched several of the small white structures, which were more cabanas than cabins, become knocked off their foundations and tumble down the hill.

  The force that propelled them was water. The lake had overflowed its banks after being fed by the constant runoff from the numerous streams, which weaved through the hills above it.

  Millions of gallons of water were racing towards the low-lying land where the jail sat, and it was traveling with enough force to not only dislodge the cabanas from their perches, but was also uprooting small trees and carrying them along like matchsticks.

  Cameron was about to run towards the jail to warn the deputy when she saw the chief’s SUV come rocketing back down the hill. The man was driving so fast that after he hit a dip in the road, all four tires left the ground, and Cameron knew that the chief must have seen it too.