Murder in the City: Blue Lights

by Tatum, Clare

  He forced a smile for his mom’s sake.

  “What’s up?” his dad asked.

  “It’s just strange. Lainey hasn’t gotten to the house, yet and I can’t reach her on her phone, now Julie says that Pete makes her think of the kidnapper.”

  His father’s face blanched white. “I didn’t want to say anything. But I thought it kinda wierd earlier when he came by. I thought I heard him in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom.”

  He looked hard at his dad. “Is there anything in there that could cause mom to go into an attack?”

  His father nodded. “A couple of things that could bring on symptoms like she was having a heart attack, if the dosage was wrong.” His eyes narrowed. “If an extra pill or two were crushed up and put into lemonade, say.”

  Damn. “You don’t think?”

  His mother just looked at him. She pursed her lips. She never liked to say a bad word about anyone. Even a guy who’d possibly tainted her lemonade, causing her to go into some sort of attack?

  He looked to his dad who frowned and said, “I haven’t wanted to say anything. But that guy Jones gives me the willies. Always has.”

  His father’s instincts about people were legendary. That’s why he’d made such a phenomenal detective.

  Brice’s stomach turned. Had he refused to see what was in front of him the whole time? He’d known Pete’s anger was off the chart, even for a cop who’d been frustrated in putting away a criminal.

  His mother leaned forward, extending her hand. Brice took it and she gave it a squeeze. “You go find our Lainey.”

  Chapter Twenty

  A late afternoon, summer rainstorm drenched the streets, sending water careening down the sides of the road, barreling toward the drains, making the curbs look like small creeks.

  Brice walked slowly along the road, jerking Sean along with him, rain pouring down both their bodies, sticking their clothes to their skin. Instinctively, he’d known where Pete would have taken Lainey—to the spot where they’d found Simone’s body.

  If Pete had taken Lainey, that was what it was all about—Simone.

  None of it made sense, but worst case scenario, Pete had gone crazy and brought Lainey here.

  “Dude, what you think you’re doing?”

  “Shut up. If you don’t keep quiet, I’ll put a bullet in you myself.”

  “You wouldn’t do that. It’s against the law.”

  Brice glared at the guy, brought his gun up close to his face, and Sean’s expression sagged.

  “Sean, if there’s one thing we’ve both learned it’s that people will do crazy things when the people they love are involved.” He spit out a mouthful of rainwater. The rain was pouring down so hard, it was almost hard to talk.

  Sean knew he was talking about Simone. That was clear because Moseman’s skin stretched across his face until it looked like it might split open.

  Then Brice heard a car approaching and he ducked back behind some bushes on the side of the road, yanking Sean along with him.

  “Keep quiet and I mean it.” He jammed the gun into Sean’s ribs.

  The car pulled along the far cub and parked. A man got out and looked around. It was that reporter, John Canton. He pulled his raincoat’s hood over his head, then he walked down the path leading into the woods where they’d found Simone’s body.

  Was he the one behind all of this? If so, where was Lainey?

  Brice’s pulse began pounding in his ears, mingling with the popping of the rain on the leaves. A chilly wind blew across his rain soaked skin and a shiver shuddered through him.

  Lainey had to be all right. She had to be.

  The person who’d been behind the kidnappings had never hurt innocent victims before. Was this different?

  “Keep quiet like your life depends on it,” he said forcefully into Sean’s ear. “Because, it does.”

  Sean nodded, knowing they were in uncharted territory. This wasn’t an arrest, but something else entirely.

  “What’s that reporter doing out here?” Sean voiced Brice’s thoughts.

  “Shut up.” Quietly, Brice edged down the path, pulling Sean along, until he could hear voices, muffled by rain, coming through the tangled undergrowth.

  Canton spoke in an arrogant tone. “What is this all about?” But underneath the bravado, fear laced his words.

  “He’s determined to kill Sean Moseman.” Lainey’s voice sounded strong.

  Thank God, she was still in fight mode.

  Sean jumped at the mention of his name. His eyes got bigger, and he started trying to pull away. But, Brice jammed his gun up under his chin, while still being careful not to put his finger on the trigger.

  If the guy were dead, he had nothing to bargain with for Lainey’s life.

  Brice tilted his head at Sean, narrowing his eyes into a wicked glare. Die now or later was the message. Moseman nodded and let Brice pull him along as he edged closer to the voices, trying to see what was going on in the clearing up ahead.

  Sean acted like a well-trained puppy, compliant because he’d realized that his life depended on Brice.

  Someone wanted him dead. Detective Mark Brice might be the only person who would prevent that from happening.

  The sound of someone else’s voice filtered through the trees. Was that Pete speaking to the reporter?

  Brice inched nearer, making sure to stay hidden. Then, Sean stepped on a limb.

  The loud, cracking noise sounded like a shot in the woods, louder even than the rain pounding on the dense undergrowth.

  “Come on out,” Pete’s voice rang through the trees, muffled by raindrops. “I’ve got a gun on this woman and I’ll shoot if you don’t show yourself.”

  Brice edged around a tree to peer below.

  Detective Pete Jones stood in the clearing, holding Lainey in front of him, her face pale, her expression saying she knew just how dangerous a man held her life in his hands.

  Pete pressed a gun to her head.

  Brice stepped out from behind the tree. He pushed Sean along like a shield in front of him because if Jones killed Brice, Lainey’s chance of making it out of this alive went down dramatically.

  “What are you doing, Jones?” Brice belted out harshly. Although all of this was beyond belief, it was pretty clear the rookie detective meant to do something evil. Brice just hoped to distract him, delay whatever action he had planned. “What’s going on?”

  Jones saw Sean, and his smile curled into pure evil. “Two birds with one stone,” he said.

  “I knew it,” Sean yelped out. “I knew it. You have had it against me personal this whole time. This dude nailed Simone and that is why he has been out to get me. ’Cause he’s jealous.”

  Brice looked at Jones, whose lip turned up into an ugly snarl.

  “You were in love with Simone,” Brice said to the young detective. Shock reverberated through Brice, the realization filling him with a sense of incredulity. Suddenly, everything made sense—how ferociously Jones had reacted when Moseman had been released from jail. It wasn’t a powerful need for justice, but a personal drive for revenge that had driven the man.

  “That’s what this whole thing is about, isn’t it, Pete?” he said.

  “I am here for justice for Simone,” Pete’s voice beat out in an angry, staccato rhythm. “This district attorney lady couldn’t get it. Simone’s death was so unimportant to her that she let this scumbag go on a technicality. Let him walk out of that jail, free to do whatever evil thing he wanted.”

  “So, you’ve gone around terrorizing little girls? You’re no better than him.” Brice stepped closer. Sean tried to pull away from the steely grasp Brice had on him, with Brice’s arm wrapped around his neck. Sean’s breathing huffed labored and loud in the darkening woods.

  “I did what I had to do in order to get justice for Simone. I did what I had to do.” Pete shook his head vehemently. “I didn’t do any different than you and this lady do all the time, putting victims and witnesses through hell. You
make them face their assailants in court, and relive their horrible experiences in public in order to get justice.” He shook his head violently. “Perps walk free after a couple of years for raping little girls. We need swifter justice. We don’t need to let these people who rob, rape, and shoot people, walk free after a few years.”

  Brice shook his head, attempting to make eye contact with Pete, but Pete’s gaze bounced around from person to person, refusing to be nailed down. Everything he’d done was justified in his mind. And, anything he might do?

  Brice measured the angle of the gun Jones held. Pete had taken it away from Lainey’s temple as he’d gestured wildly in anger. Was there a chance Brice could shoot the detective before he could turn his gun back on Lainey and shoot her?

  “You’re no better than any other criminal if you terrorize little girls, Jones. You can justify it all you want but you’re one of them. The criminals tell themselves they got a bad shake in life, they deserve to take what they want.”

  Jones’ face twisted in rage. “Him.” He pointed at Sean with his gun. “This lady protected him. And defended his rights. Who defended Simone’s rights?”

  God, he knew the pain Pete must be feeling now. If he’d loved Simone, how hard had it been to look at her autopsy photos? The photos of her lying dead in the dirt in this lonely, trash strewn lot must have ripped his heart out every time he’d been forced to study them.

  If Brice lost Lainey, he’d have to kill the person who hurt her.

  If Pete hurt her, he’d hunt him down and kill him, regardless of the law.

  What were the odds of Lainey ending up dead if Brice took the shot now? What were the odds of her ending up dead if he didn’t?

  “So, you did all of this to get Sean? You dragged all these incidental witnesses here just to get Sean?”

  Pete shook his head dismissively. “I never figured you for dumb, Brice. Aren’t you the big lead detective, knowing everything?”

  “He wanted me. He wanted to kill me,” Lainey said simply, sounding resigned.

  She’d seen evil way too many times to not recognize it when it looked her right in the face. So, she was convinced Detective Pete Jones meant to kill her. Rightfully so, from the look on his face.

  “And Canton just happened to show up too? He’s an incidental victim?” Brice said.

  Jones shrugged. “Not so much. I’m fed up with him always making our job that much harder. Always reporting things about cops in the worst possible light. He was supposed to arrange for Moseman to show up here. I said I’d give him exclusive information if he could get Sean to meet us.” Pete gestured with the gun toward Canton.

  “He said he’d had a change of heart about Moseman’s guilt.” The reporter grimaced. “Said he wanted me to grease the wheels, to convince Moseman to cooperate in the investigation. Thought maybe Sean could shed some light on what happened shortly before Simone’s death, who she might have talked to, who might have been with her that night.”

  Pete grinned at Canton, seemingly loving putting the guy on the spot, turning the tables since the reporter had aimed a microphone at him so often during the investigation, had told his camera man to put a camera in the young detective’s face.

  “Canton’s the last known person to have the gun that killed Simone and those three people the last couple of nights. He said he’d turned it over to the cops. I’m the cop he gave it to. If I don’t corroborate his statement, who will know?”

  Canton’s face paled. How had he thought this was going to end? That he was going to have a first-hand report to tell about one of the most unbelievable stories that had ever happened in the history of the Atlanta Police Department?

  Pete had planned to kill Lainey, Canton and Sean, making it look like a double murder and a suicide. He held the murder weapon that Canton had turned in to police, or Pete as it were.

  Canton’s gaze fixed on the weapon that had already killed at least three others. And the last person who’d had it in his known possession was Canton.

  It had been a pretty good plan, if you didn’t count the whole evil part of the equation.

  Then, it occurred to Brice just what would divert Pete from his hatred for Lainey and Canton.

  “I was the one,” Brice said. “I reported that our witness was in jail at the time he said that he’d seen Sean kill Simone.”

  Brice stepped closer to Pete but stopped when Pete turned his gun toward him.

  “If you want to blame someone, blame me,” Brice stated flatly. “I was the one who brought it to the attention of the district attorney’s office that our star witness to the murder was actually in jail when the crime occurred.”

  “Yeah, right. Always the gentleman, taking the heat for the lady. That’s what you do, isn’t it Brice?”

  “I did what I had to do when I told the assistant DA and she did what she had to do.”

  Pete’s eyes rocketed to make contact with Brice’s. Venom filled his gaze.

  “She didn’t have to. She chose to,” Detective Jones growled

  “I gave her the information.”

  “Then, you were wrong.”

  “But, you don’t want to kill me? Why her?”

  “Because she made the decision to tell the courts. You had to tell her so she’d know she might get blindsided later. But she didn’t have to use the information, didn’t have to bring it to the court’s attention.”

  He had to realize it didn’t make sense even when he was saying it. For some reason, Jones chose to direct all his vitriol toward Lainey. Brice raised his eyebrows at Pete, hoping to make him see what he was doing.

  “Dude, this isn’t going to end well for you,” Brice said as calmly as possible.

  Pete’s face crumpled with frustration. “Man, why’d you have to come down here?”

  His eyes wavered for a moment, then he seemed to regain his conviction. He stabbed a hard look at Brice. “You can still walk away. Take the handcuffs off your perp and walk away.” He pointed at the path with his gun. “Just walk away.”

  The guy had gone completely into the deep end of the crazy pool. Nothing he said made sense anymore.

  The jealousy and rage that Jones expressed seemed similar to what Brice had felt when his wife had left him for another man and taken their kid. He’d been crazed, with impulses flashing through his brain to kill the guy.

  The man had taken everything Brice had to live for. But, Brice had just kept drawing in breaths, waiting for the next day. He’d waited for the rage to pass.

  Even now, he sometimes felt a little homicidal when he thought about what he’d lost. And how that man lived with his daughter every day.

  Then, Brice would think about how much his daughter still needed him in her life, and what it would do to her if her father went to prison for murdering her stepfather. Maddie’s love and the time he was allowed to spend with her kept Brice’s rage caged up. He held the animalistic need for revenge in check because of Maddie.

  What did Pete have to live for?

  Then, he remembered a barbecue at the house of Pete’s parents, and how Pete had doted on his mama.

  “Your mama is going to be hurt by all of this, Pete.”

  Something sparked in the young guy’s eyes. For the first time today, hesitation and doubt appeared there.

  “The jig’s up, man,” Mark continued. “Maybe you had a chance to bring down this guy.” He waved at Moseman. “But, it’s gone now that I’m here.”

  He held his gun trained on Jones. “You can get a good lawyer and fight the charges. Because what do they really have on you? Just that you kidnapped this assistant DA.”

  He could see the thoughts churning in the young detective’s brain.

  “You’re young. Your lawyer can argue mental duress. Kidnapping is all they have on you.”

  He purposefully didn’t mention Julie’s allegations about him. He had to think he had something to live for.

  “That bastard killed Simone.” Pete turned his gun toward Sean, who whimpe
red like a scared dog, emitting sounds that didn’t even sound human.

  Brice let go of his grip around Moseman’s neck. With the release of Brice’s support, Sean fell.

  Pete moved forward, still using Lainey as a shield against Brice’s gun but now, he directed his pistol at Pete.

  Brice concentrated on aiming his gun at the detective’s forehead. Should he take the shot? Would Pete turn the gun and shoot Lainey before he died?

  If Brice could only get her away from him.

  “Admit you killed her, you bastard,” Pete yelled at Sean. “Admit it or I’ll kill you right here and now.”

  “Okay. Okay. I did it, man. I loved her and she was screwing around on me.” Sean lay in the mud and sobbed. “You screwed her and she was my girl. She was my everything.” Sean looked up, his face wet with tears and rain, and glared at Pete despite the gun the man pointed at him. “You had no right.”

  “I had every right. She loved me.”

  Brice had envisioned this very same scene a million times during the middle of the long sleepless nights after his wife had left. He’d imagined going after the man who’d messed around with his wife.

  Love was a bitch that could turn on you and stab you in the heart. When things went wrong, love could drive grown men to murder.

  But he looked at Lainey. And knew that, besides Maddie, Lainey was another reason he’d kept living. Because she’d been out there, just waiting for him to find her.

  “The bastard deserves to die,” Brice said.

  Lainey, Pete, Sean and John Canton all jerked their attention to him. Sean looked up at him with terror in his eyes. If Detective Mark Brice turned on him, too, then Sean Moseman knew he didn’t stand a chance of coming out of this alive.

  “He deserves to die because he killed a beautiful young woman just because she stopped loving him.”

  Pete’s face crumpled. “She loved me. We were going to get married and have babies. Now, what do I have? He needs to die.”

  “Let the courts do it, Pete. We will get him. He’s admitted it here today. It may not be admissible in a trial. But we can hold him for it and get enough evidence to convict him.”