Small Town Justice

by Valerie Hansen

Disregarding her own well-being, she hit the window again. This time it not only shattered, pieces fell out onto the porch roof.

  Footsteps were thudding in the hallway. Jamie swept her wrapped forearm along the frame and broke away the last jagged remnants, then leaned out the window and yelled, “Go, go, go!”

  The bedroom door flew open. Judge Randall burst in, cursing and shouting. He made straight for her as she’d planned, grabbed a fistful of her clothing and tried to jerk her backward.

  She did the best she could to hang on to the sill and frame. To delay him. To keep him from getting past her to check the empty porch roof outside the window. She’d carried out her part of the plan. Now it was up to Marsha and Kyle to sneak past him while he was distracted, get down the stairs and out the front door.

  Wide-eyed, Jamie saw a blow coming and raised her hands defensively. That was enough to deflect the attack but not to keep her from being stunned.

  She fell backward.

  Saw Randall start to lean out the window.

  Heard him bellow as her head hit the floor.

  * * *

  The first thing Shane saw when he and Harlan arrived was a line of patrol cars parked on each side of his truck, providing a barrier against whoever was in the house. He was out of the sheriff’s unit and racing toward a group of other officers long before the dust settled.

  When the door of the farthest car opened and his son jumped out, he fell to his knees with open arms.

  “I was a ninja,” the boy told him happily as he threw himself at his daddy. “I saved Memaw. All by myself.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Shane managed to say while blinking back tears of relief.

  The nearest uniformed officer said, “You folks need to keep your heads down and stay where you’re told, for your own safety.” He gestured. “We have Mrs. Bryce in that car. If you and the boy will join her...”

  Rising as far as a crouch, Shane took Kyle’s hand and led him. As promised, his mother was seated in the rear of the police car. There was an ice pack on her ankle.

  “Are you all right?”

  She clasped his hand. “I’m fine. Just twisted it running down the stairs.”

  As her eyes met his, Shane realized what she was not saying. Only she and Kyle had escaped.

  “What about...”

  “She got us out,” Marsha told him. Sniffling, she wiped her damp cheeks. “She was amazing.”

  “The judge let you go?”

  Marsha was shaking her head. “No, no. He’s a raving lunatic. Jamie set up a trick, lured him away, and we were able to make it out.”

  “But...?”

  “She’s still in there, as far as I know.” The older woman pulled her grandson onto her lap and held him close. “I was afraid none of us would survive.”

  Shane wanted to rejoice, and, in his heart, he did. Up to a point. There was only one thing wrong with Jamie Lynn’s plan. It had not included saving herself.

  * * *

  The sheriff was conferring with the other officers when Shane returned to him. They were actually talking about standing back and waiting for the hostage negotiation team to arrive. That could take hours. And if the judge was as deranged as everyone believed, that was far too long.

  “We need to at least try to talk to him,” Shane insisted.

  A murmur of voices vehemently disagreed. “Let the experts handle this,” Harlan said above the din.

  “We brought the boxes of Dad’s papers he wanted.”

  “And he has the upper hand,” the sheriff countered. “According to your mother, he’s not only armed and acting real crazy, he has one more hostage.”

  “I know. That’s why I want to negotiate.”

  “Out of the question.”

  With that, the sheriff turned away as if dismissing Shane’s concerns. It wasn’t good enough. Sam would have done something, somehow. He had always managed to talk his way out of a jam. Except that last time, Shane reminded himself. The man who was holding Jamie at gunpoint was probably the same one who had arranged his dad’s murder. That put him in a whole other category.

  Shane tapped Harlan on the shoulder. “You need to bring Bobbi-Sue out here to talk to him.”

  “Why her?”

  “Because she was involved at the beginning of all this. That’s what Max had started to explain when he was shot. The hit-and-run driver had to be either her or Alan Abernathy. Their fathers conspired to blame Ray and got Max involved. He was trying to protect Martin.”

  “Ray Jr. confessed.”

  “That doesn’t make him guilty. He was weak, worn down by the trial. Once he figured out what was happening he changed his plea for the sake of his family. Only it was too late to save his father.”

  “Alice was right?”

  “Looks that way to me.” Shane gestured toward the house. “Last I heard, Abernathy’s son went to Texas, but Bobbi-Sue is still around.”

  “She teaches school, for crying out loud. She can’t be guilty of murder.”

  “What she is or isn’t guilty of doesn’t matter now. All we need her for is to talk down the judge.”

  Reluctantly, the sheriff conceded. “All right. I’ll radio for a deputy to fetch her. But there’s no way I’m putting one of Serenity’s model citizens in danger. She can sit out here in my car and use the bullhorn.”

  “Fine. Whatever.” Just do something, Shane added silently, remembering how he’d accused Jamie Lynn of being impatient and wondering how he was going to force himself to wait for anything.

  He eyed the cardboard boxes in the backseat of the sheriff’s car. If he got them out and stacked them atop the car’s trunk, Randall would be able to see them from the house and would know they’d complied with his demands. That wasn’t guaranteed to help but it couldn’t hurt.

  The last box was in place when a shot was fired from an upstairs window.

  It cut a round hole into a box mere inches from Shane’s shoulder.

  By the time he realized what had happened, he could easily have been felled by a second shot—just like Max.

  The first thing that crossed his mind as he dived behind the car was, “Thank you, Jesus!”

  * * *

  “If you shoot at them, they’re going to shoot back,” Jamie warned her captor. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  He guffawed. “I’m an important man. They won’t shoot me.”

  “Okay, if you say so. Still, I wouldn’t stand in front of any windows if I were you.”

  “Think you’re so smart, don’t you? Well, you’re not as smart as I am. You never guessed I was behind all your troubles, did you?”

  She chose to humor him. “No, sir. I sure didn’t. We were blaming Benjamin Abernathy.”

  “Oh, he was part of it. But he wanted to scare you away. I told him and told him, that girl won’t scare any more than her stubborn daddy did.”

  “You killed my father?”

  Another harsh laugh. “Not me. It wasn’t hard to find somebody willing to do it. Throw enough money at any problem and you can make it go away.”

  “And my mother?”

  The judge shook his head, his eyes hidden behind the night vision goggles. “Missed her. She ran off before I expected her to. It didn’t seem wise to go after her. Now I wish I’d gotten rid of all of you.”

  “The way you got rid of Max Williford tonight?”

  “Max is dead? Well, well. Looks like my old partner came through for me. I told Ben we needed to tie up all the loose ends. I guess he did.”

  “It was just you and Abernathy and Williford? I’m impressed. The three of you pulled off a slick frame.”

  “It was, wasn’t it?” The judge sounded less manic and more resolved.

  “The only thing I don’
t know,” Jamie Lynn said, fighting to keep her tone soft, her voice even, “is which teenager was driving my brother’s car that night.”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “None, I guess. I’m just curious. If it wasn’t your daughter, why did you take a chance on getting involved?”

  Randall cursed under his breath and paced away from her. “Because the kids would never admit who was behind the wheel. They thought they were being clever. Getting their parents to bail them out no matter what. And it worked. I know Bobbi-Sue was in the car. She hit her mouth on the dash and loosened a couple of teeth.”

  The blood on the car seat! Jamie’s heart thudded. Even if she didn’t make it out of this alive so she could repeat what she’d learned, DNA should lead law enforcement to the guilty parties. Both of them. If Shane couldn’t interest the famous Innocence Project in taking the case, he could still prevail upon the sheriff to have the samples tested.

  But would he? Or would he be so glad to see the last of her he dropped the whole thing? Clearly, Judge Randall was going to jail and therefore Abernathy’s actions would also come into question, but would that be enough to reopen R.J.’s case if there was nobody insisting on it?

  Tears pooled behind her lashes as she considered her probable fate and rejected it. She was not ready to give up. Nor was she willing to let a madman win this battle, let alone the war. A person didn’t have to be connected to law enforcement to crave justice. She might not be armed the way the judge was but she was far more cognizant of reality. He had the gun. She had the brains. Never mind that people in Serenity were probably seeing her as just as unbalanced because of her actions. What she had done to arrive at this point had been for the right reasons and she’d do it again in a heartbeat.

  Kyle and Marsha were safe. Now it was her turn to escape.

  How was yet to be determined.

  EIGHTEEN

  Shane had stayed down after the single bullet whistled past his ear. He eyed the house while armed men took defensive positions. If they went in, guns blazing, Jamie Lynn was likely to be collateral damage, providing the judge didn’t start by shooting her. Given his demonstration of willingness to fire, anything was possible.

  The pistol Shane carried was intended for defense, not offense. If he drew it and used it he was liable to be arrested. However, if he failed to act he could lose the one woman who had brought unimaginable blessings and new hope to his life.

  Even before he drew the gun and checked it for readiness, his mind was on the move. There had been no more shooting. Spotlights from the police cars were trained on various openings, including the front-facing windows and doorway. That left the burned-out rear of the house essentially unguarded. He’d have to rely upon reflected light and the moon when it peeked out from behind wind-driven clouds, but that would suffice. It had to.

  Shane skirted the east end of the line of parked cars, purposely avoiding alerting his mother and son. He was not planning to waste his life or leave Kyle fatherless. He simply intended to do whatever was necessary to save Jamie. Again. Whether the sheriff acknowledged it or not, Shane knew that was his God-given obligation.

  Voices drifted to him before he cleared the detritus that had once made up the back porch and kitchen. Freezing to listen, he heard Jamie first, His heart twisted.

  “You should involve the prosecutor in this, you know. He’s as guilty as you are.”

  Randall shouted, “Who says I’m guilty? Do you know who I am? How important I am? Nobody will ever believe your lies about me.”

  “Sorry.” The rest of her reply was too muted to make out but its tone indicated she was trying to placate the irrational man.

  Gun pointing ahead, Shane took a few more steps. The broken, charred boards beneath his boots shifted. Cracked. Brought an exclamation from upstairs.

  That was proof of where Randall was holding Jamie Lynn. It was also a good indication that the judge now knew he wasn’t the only one in the house besides his prisoner.

  “Who’s there?” he called down.

  Shane didn’t move a muscle. As long as his adversary didn’t know where he was, he still had a slight advantage.

  “You’d better speak up or I’ll shoot the woman!”

  While Shane strained to see better in the dimness, a large form appeared on the topmost landing. It was too massive for one person. Clearly, the judge was using his captive as a human shield.

  “I’m here,” Shane answered. “I brought you my father’s papers and old files.”

  “What for?”

  That query was such a shock, Shane didn’t know how to reply. “You—you asked for them.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  Shifting his location each time he spoke, Shane hoped to keep the madman guessing. “You said you’d trade them for my family.”

  Laughing hoarsely, Randall stepped forward enough to catch a reflection from a spotlight on the chromed action of his rifle. Judging by its position, Shane surmised that the barrel was pointing at Jamie’s head. “This one isn’t family, yours or anybody’s. She’s a renegade. A nuisance. Nobody cares what happens to her, not even her stupid brother.”

  “I care,” Shane said. He knew he was taking a chance by giving the judge more emotional leverage but he chose to do it rather than have Jamie think she didn’t matter. They both needed all the hope, all the inner strength they could find, including that of their faith. “So does God,” he added.

  From the stairway came Jamie’s loud “Amen!”

  That outburst caused the judge to shift slightly. To adjust his hold.

  Shane saw her legs lift as if she were about to kick a field goal with both feet.

  Randall staggered.

  Jamie’s soles connected with part of the weakened banister and knocked it loose.

  That threw her captor off balance. He teetered. Made a grab for the cracked railing and ended up grasping thin air.

  With a shriek, Jamie Lynn lunged for the solid floor. Shane could hear her scrambling to stay up there. If he hadn’t been too far away he’d have tried to catch her as she fell.

  Instead, it was the judge who sailed off the second-floor landing. The rifle fired wildly, sending a bullet into the ceiling and making it rain plaster, before he crashed onto a pile of broken, charred wood and lay there, crumpled and unmoving.

  “Jamie! Hang on, honey. I’m coming,” Shane shouted, taking the stairs two at a time and holstering his own firearm.

  His hands closed around her wrists. Held tight. “Gotcha.”

  Portable spotlights illuminated the scene as the police stormed in. Jamie Lynn’s legs and feet were kicking like those of a floundering swimmer.

  Shane eased her back onto the landing. “Are you hurt?”

  “No. Just really, really scared.”

  He helped her stand, pulled her into his arms and cautiously peered down at the judge. “Is he dead?”

  “Appears so,” Harlan said. “How’s the girl?”

  Shane’s hold tightened as he wrapped her in an embrace he had feared might never be possible again. “She’s wonderful,” he said. “Absolutely wonderful.”

  When Jamie raised her face to his, he proved his seriousness by kissing her. Soundly.

  * * *

  She was seated at the rear of an ambulance, wrapped in a scratchy gray blanket, when a stretcher left the old house bearing a body bag. So, Randall was really gone. It was hard to feel sorry for him, given his actions, yet she did. And for his daughter. The dire consequences of some sins never went away, did they?

  A gloved EMT had been extracting wood slivers from her knees and palms. “That’s all I can do out here,” the young man said. “You’ll need to see a doctor for the rest. Can I get you something to calm your nerves?”

  “It’s a tad late for tha
t,” she said with a slight smile.

  She didn’t want coddling, she wanted Shane. Desperately. They had been separated to be individually interviewed as soon as they’d left the old house. She hadn’t seen him since. Given the horrendous evening they’d both had, she needed him near.

  That thought broadened her smile. Very, very near, as in inseparable. The kind of closeness that she had never shared with anyone before. The kind reserved for one special person. The kind that lasted a lifetime.

  Of course, there was no guarantee Shane loved her enough to set aside the prejudice created by his father’s death, or to take a second chance on marriage, but she could hope. And pray. Just because the elements that had brought them together were not the usual boy-meets-girl events, that didn’t mean their relationship was doomed.

  Speaking of praying, she thought, closing her eyes and turning her thoughts heavenward. There had been plenty of opportunities to call out to God recently and she found that the more she prayed, the easier it got. The Lord had not changed, of course. She had.

  As cars came and went she withdrew into herself, content to talk to God and quietly listen. It wasn’t as if she heard celestial voices; it was more an overall peace and sense of comfort that had descended to blanket her.

  A soft word spoken close by brought her back to reality. “How are you?” Logan Malloy asked.

  Jamie Lynn was almost as glad to see him as she would have been if Shane had returned. “I’m okay. Judge Randall is dead. So is poor Max. He was trying to tell us about his son and the other kids when he was shot.”

  “I heard. I’m sorry. If I’d thought there was any danger I wouldn’t have intervened.”

  “If I had known others might die I would have gone about this differently, too,” Jamie told him. “I’d still have tried to clear my brother, though.”

  “Perfectly understandable.” He hesitated and she glimpsed pathos in his gaze. “Is Shane around?”

  “Yes. The sheriff took him away to get an official statement. Randall apparently lost his mind at the end. He was totally irrational.”

  “Everybody else is okay? You? Marsha? Kyle?”