Long Way Home (Matthew Riker Book 3)

by J. T. Baier

  The men across the street were already getting into their car. Riker couldn’t see the plates from his angle.

  “I appreciate that, Doc. Maybe we can catch up later, but I really need to go.”

  “It was good to see you, Matt.”

  “You too, Doc.”

  Riker headed out the door in pursuit of the men from the office.

  8

  Riker stepped out of the coffee shop, and the humidity of the early afternoon hit him in the face like a wet towel. The sun was high overhead, and it beat down on him with surprising intensity. He’d forgotten how sometimes even October afternoons in Iowa could feel just as punishing.

  He strolled casually up the sidewalk, headed in the same general direction as the men in the tailored suits. The men reached their SUV and continued past it on foot. Apparently they had business with someone besides Luke.

  As he walked, Riker considered what Doc Hanson had told him about the growing opioid problem. Riker had read plenty of articles and seen numerous news stories about the opioid epidemic in recent years. About how it was tearing communities apart, particularly poorer, rural communities. He’d read reports of cops and paramedics who carried Naloxone injections and regularly had to use them on overdosing citizens, sometimes multiple times on the same day.

  Was that what was happening here? Was Kingsport just another victim of the opioid epidemic like so many other small towns in the United States? Had the world really changed this much over the past six years while he’d been living on his small, isolated farm?

  And if so, what could he possibly hope to do against such a large-scale problem? Some of the best minds in the country had tried their hand at ending the crisis, and so far all of them had been unsuccessful. What chance did Riker have?

  He didn’t know. But he did know that Coach Kane had been trying to fight the problem. The Coach Kane he remembered was a practical man who looked at the world in realistic terms. He wasn’t the type to go tilting at windmills. That led Riker to believe there must have been an angle he thought he could work. A loose thread to pull on that might improve the situation, at least here in Kingsport. Kane had died without completing the task, so now it was up to Riker to find the end of the thread and do a little pulling of his own.

  Up ahead, the men were walking with long easy strides, watching their perimeters but not really expecting any trouble. They strode through town like they owned the place. Riker’s hands clenched into fists at the sight, and he was surprised at the sudden anger he felt. Apparently he was still a little possessive about his hometown.

  The men were nearly a full block ahead of Riker, and he kept pace, maintaining the distance between them. In his mind’s eye, he inspected the map of downtown Kingsport as he best remembered it, visualizing each shop that they passed. After another half-block, they turned and walked into one of the establishments. It was a flower shop, or it had been in Riker’s day.

  He hesitated for a moment, considering his next move. His best bet would be to find a place to observe inconspicuously. Then he could either follow them when they left the shop or head into the shop and question whoever was inside. Moving a bit closer, he scanned the area. Unfortunately, there was no coffee shop across from the flower shop. But there was a jewelry store. He could duck inside, play the nervous boyfriend looking for a gift, and keep one eye on the window. It wasn’t perfect, but it would work for his purposes.

  When he reached the corner, he stepped off the sidewalk and into the crosswalk. He was only two steps into the street when a flash of sunlight off metal caught the corner of a car, along with the throaty roar of a V-8 engine. His head swiveled to the left, and he saw a pickup truck careening toward him. His body reacted without the need for conscious thought, leaping back onto the sidewalk.

  The driver angled the wheels toward Riker, but Riker was still in motion, scrambling backward until a street lamp was between him and the truck. The truck’s front wheel hopped the curb, but the driver angled it back to the road and stepped on the gas, sending the truck racing into the distance.

  Riker’s heart raced as his mind sifted through the details of what had just happened, connecting dots and drawing conclusions for him to consider. The truck had been a recent model. Iowa plates. The driver had been wearing a flannel shirt, not a suit and tie like the men Riker had been following. The way he’d angled the vehicle onto the curb left no doubt that he’d purposefully been trying to hit Riker. And, assuming the driver wasn’t just out joyriding trying to take out random pedestrians, that indicated there was probably another person watching Riker, someone who’d called in the truck at the moment Riker was preparing to cross the street.

  He scanned his surroundings, looking for possible suspects. What he saw made him grimace and curse himself for having been so focused on the men he was following that he’d missed the clear signs all around him.

  A man in a John Deer baseball cap, leaned casually against a car, cell phone to his ear. Two other men chatting on the sidewalk across the street. All three of them carefully not looking at Riker, a man who’d almost just been run down by a pickup truck. All three wore jeans, work boots, and T-shirts. Was it possible that these were Luke’s guys? Had his old friend sent someone to hit him with a truck?

  Riker glanced at the flower shop one more time. The men were still inside, which meant he had a decision to make. Keep watching for the men in suits or find out more about the men watching him? After a moment, he made his decision and started walking.

  He turned the first corner he came to, and then stopped. Ten seconds later, the men who’d been chatting on the sidewalk rounded the corner as well. They froze when they spotted Riker, and their hands went to their waists.

  Riker gritted his teeth. He really didn’t want to fight these men, not while he was still trying to figure out who they were and why they were after him. Kicking their asses wouldn’t win him any friends, and he might need friends in the coming days. Instead, he returned his mind’s eye to the map of the downtown area. It only took him a moment to locate a spot that would work. Once he had it in mind, he took off running.

  He didn’t bother looking back as he headed up the street. He didn’t have to--the men would be following him, running as fast as their heavy work boots allowed. Pumping his arms, he pushed himself farther down the block until he spotted what he was looking for--an alley between a pair of three-story brick buildings.

  As he ducked into the alley, he smiled. An eight-foot-tall wooden fence still stood at the end of the alley, blocking it from the next street over. He thought back to the previous night as he charged forward. This fence was taller than the chain-link one he’d vaulted over, but the daylight and clear path gave him greater confidence.

  As he reached the end of the alley, he heard the breathless voices of his pursuers. He leaped into the air and planted his left foot against the brick wall, pushing off hard and sending him higher. He grabbed the top of the fence with both hands and swung his legs over.

  He landed cleanly on the other side and jogged out onto the street. His pursuers would either have to climb the fence or circle around the block. Either way, he’d bought himself some valuable time.

  As he was trotting back toward the flower shop, a female voice called to him.

  “Riker!”

  He turned and spotted a uniformed woman standing in the doorway of a small shop. After a moment, he recognized her as Officer Alvarez, the woman who’d arrested the drug dealer the previous night.

  With a reluctant glance toward the cross street that would lead him back to the flower shop, he paused and turned toward the police officer. “Officer Alvarez. Good afternoon.”

  “Same to you.” She looked him up and down. “You okay? You seem a little out of breath.”

  “Fine. Just out for a little jog.”

  “Okay.” She looked him up and down again, taking in his jeans and T-shirt. “I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to talk about last night.”

  Riker glanced towar
d the corner one more time, then pushed it out of his mind. If she wanted to have this conversation, he was more than willing. “Yes, let’s talk about last night.” He heard the anger in his voice, and he didn’t bother trying to hide it. “I understand the drug dealer is already back on the streets.”

  Alvarez stared at him for a long moment, her face unreadable. “That’s correct.”

  “You wanna explain that one to me?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but we didn’t exactly have a lot of evidence. A gun and some drugs that he claimed were yours, not his. In the end, it’s your word against his. Add to that the fact that he was physically assaulted by a former Navy SEAL, and Chief Myers felt it wasn’t worth the legal exposure. We dropped the charges.”

  Riker’s eyes narrowed. “Are you kidding? He pulled a gun on me.”

  “Was he pointing a gun at you when you chased him through the park and tackled him to the ground?”

  “No. But it was a shove, not a tackle.”

  Alvarez cracked a smile at that. “Look, I know it’s hard to swallow. That’s part of life in law enforcement. You don’t always get the bad guy. And sometimes you’re the one who sets him free. You just hope that in the balance of things you are making the town a safer place.”

  “Quite the system you have here.”

  “It’s not perfect, but it’s the one we’ve got.” She paused. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I got to thinking about it, and you were right. We should be doing more about the drug problem in Grant Park. I asked Chief Myers if he could assign somebody to patrol the area at night. At least drive past every hour or so to keep the dealers on their toes.”

  “What did he say to that?”

  Alvarez shrugged. “He said it wasn’t the worst idea he’s ever heard. Next week’s schedule comes out Friday, so I guess we’ll find out then how seriously he took the suggestion.”

  The officer’s face was tough to read, but she looked sincere to Riker. He got the sense that she took her job seriously. That was the kind of ally Riker needed. And if the last ten minutes were any indication, he was going to need all the allies he could get. He wasn’t sure that he trusted Officer Alvarez completely, but he trusted her intentions. For now, that would have to be enough.

  “Thanks, Officer. I appreciate you letting me know.”

  She nodded. “Stay out of trouble, Riker.”

  “No promises, but I’ll do my best.”

  With that, Riker headed up the sidewalk and back toward Main Street. When he reached it, he paused and looked in both directions.

  There was no sign of the men who’d chased him into the alley. But there was also no sign of the men in the tailored suits. The SUV with the tinted windows was gone.

  9

  Megan walked in the door and put her bag down. She stepped into the kitchen where Riker was getting a snack.

  “Hey Megan, how was school?”

  “Good, but we need to get ready for the wake.”

  “I am ready.”

  Megan stopped and took a closer look at Riker. “I mean we need to get

  changed.”

  Riker looked down at his clothes. He was wearing black dress shoes, his best pair of jeans and a shirt with a collar. “I’m already changed.”

  Megan slapped the palm of her hand to her forehead. “Let me guess, those are your ‘nice jeans’.”

  “Yeah. No rips or bullet holes.”

  Megan gave him a skeptical glance. “No bullet holes?”

  “These are the best clothes that I have. I just found out about the funeral and drove straight here. Shopping wasn’t on my list of things to do.”

  “It is now. You said you wanted to honor Coach Kane. I think you should start by showing a little respect at the wake.”

  Forty minutes later the two walked into a locally opened clothing store on Main Street. A bell chimed when they entered and a young woman in a form-fitting dress greeted them. She looked to be in her early twenties and had long sandy blonde hair with light highlights.

  “Good to see you Megan. Who’s this handsome fellow?”

  “Hey Grace, this is my cousin Matthew. We are headed to Coach Kane’s wake and we need some dress clothes. Shirt, tie and some slacks.”

  Riker glanced around the small store, feeling like a child who’d been dragged out to buy school clothes at the end of the summer Women’s clothing lined one wall and men’s clothing lined the other. The faint smell of leather came from the dress shoes next to the door.

  “You came to the right place,” the woman said with a smile. “I’ll grab some things for you to try on.”

  “Thanks, Grace, you’re the best.”

  Riker gave a nod to Grace and she smiled back with a wink. Riker couldn’t help but notice the way her outfit hugged the curves of her body.

  Once Grace was out of earshot Megan nudged Riker with her elbow. “I think she might be a little young for you.”

  Riker raised an eyebrow, “I agree, I have no intentions towards Grace, aside from purchasing clothes.”

  “You sure, it seems like there could be some intentions coming from both parties.”

  A slight red tone touched Riker’s cheeks. “I was just being friendly. Besides, I’m sort of involved with a woman that I met a little while back.”

  Megan’s smile grew a little bigger. “Do tell. Is it serious?”

  Riker’s smile faded a bit. “We both felt something special, but the timing wasn’t right. We met under some intense circumstances and both of us had some things we needed to deal with.”

  “There’s always going to be excuses to put things off, but if you like this woman you should go for it.”

  “You're wise beyond your years. I really hope that our story isn’t over yet.”

  “I am wise beyond my years,” Megan replied. “Speaking of wise, that was something in the classroom today. You always look for weapons everywhere you go?”

  He shrugged. “I guess it’s habit at this point. But it’s not difficult. Plenty of things can be weapons.”

  “Yeah, like what?”

  He nodded toward a nearby rack of belts. “Those, for one. Especially the ones with the bigger buckles. You swing that hard enough, and you’ll be surprised at what it can do.”

  “Huh. What else?”

  Riker thought a moment. “Can I see your car keys?”

  She gave him an odd look, then pulled her keys out of her back pocket.

  “You keep your keys in your back pocket?” he asked with a laugh.

  “When they start making women’s pants with appropriately sized pockets, I’ll carry them elsewhere.” She tossed him the keys.

  He gripped the keyring in his hand, letting the keys protrude between his fingers. “See? Not as good as a knife, but if you punch someone with this, especially if your adrenaline is flowing, you can do some real damage.” He tossed the keys back to her.

  She caught them and shook her head. “You live a very strange life, Mr. Riker.”

  Riker caught motion out of his peripheral vision. He turned in time to see a small girl pulling on a dress. The child, who couldn’t have been more than four years old, pulled harder on the dress, tipping the display stand.

  Riker sprinted, quickly crossing the twelve feet between him and the girl. His hand closed around the metal rack just before it crashed down onto the girl’s head. She froze, a guilty expression on her face, with the dress still clutched in her hand. Riker returned the clothing stand to its proper position as the child ran off with the dress.

  She reached one of the changing room doors and yelled, “Mommy, mommy, I got you another dress to try on.”

  Megan stared at Riker. “Wow, nice reflexes. You totally saved that girl.”

  “Only from the most minor of injuries.” Riker shook his head. “I need to start charging for that.”

  “What, saving kids? Is that something you do often?”

 
; Riker smiled. “Not really, forget I said anything.”

  “Uh, I don’t think so. You can’t mention saving a kid and then not tell the story.”

  Riker hesitated. He knew that he shouldn’t discuss Li, the girl he had saved in New York, but there was something about Megan that made him want to open up.

  “There was a girl who was separated from her parents. I helped her get back to them.”

  Megan was silent for a moment. Her mind worked at filling in the details that Riker had left out. “I’m guessing that this wasn’t just a girl lost in a store.”

  “No, it was a little more complicated than that. When I was helping her I really didn’t think about why I was doing it. I mean I knew it was the right thing to do, so I just did it, but now I’ve had a little time to reflect. She was in danger and I helped her out of it, but I think I was in danger too and she helped me.”

  Megan gave her full attention to Riker. “What do you mean?”

  “I had forgotten that there are people worth saving. I was in a dark place, alone and distant from everyone. She reminded me that people start off good. I saw an innocent kid who was full of life and wonder. Saving her was the right thing to do. There was no gray area, no questions about future implications. I had spent a lot of time in the gray area and I had forgotten that there is a true north. I think she saved me as much as I saved her.”

  “It sounds like you really care about her.”

  Riker gave a nod. “I do.”

  “Do you get to see her often?”

  Riker took a breath, thinking about how to answer the question when he was saved by an interruption.

  Grace walked up to them with several shirts and pants in her arms. She looked at the two standing in silence. “I can come back if I’m interrupting.”

  Riker shook his head. “Not at all. I was just telling an old story. Megan has a gift for getting people to say too much. Let’s focus on the task at hand so we can get to the wake.”