by David Archer
A siren cut the air, and the ambulance roared up beside them. Sam kept pressure on the wound until the paramedics were on the ground beside Steve, then let them take over. It took them several minutes to reach a point where they figured he was stable enough to move, and then they loaded him onto a gurney and hurried him into the ambulance. Siren still screaming, the driver threw the big truck into gear and they were gone.
Sam turned to find the rest of the team, along with Kenny, standing there staring.
“That was him?” Kenny asked. “That was my father?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Come on, let’s get to the hospital. Kenny is coming with me, and the rest of you fan out and start looking for clues. I want to know who shot him, and I want to know it today.”
Kenny followed Sam to one of the SUVs in the parking lot, and they climbed inside.
“You know the way to the hospital from here?” Sam asked.
“Yeah,” Kenny said. “Go up that way three lights and take a right. It’s about a mile down on the left after that.”
Sam followed his directions and they arrived at the hospital in less than eight minutes. Steve was still in the ER, and Sam and Kenny were told to wait out front until he was stabilized. The doctors couldn’t give them any information about his condition just yet, so they took seats in the waiting room.
“Who the hell would do this?” Kenny asked. “Why would anybody want to kill him?”
“Your dad was a police detective before he became a private eye,” Sam said. “It’s possible, and I mean just barely possible, that he has an enemy in the area that might want him dead, but I don’t think that’s the case. Whoever shot him is trying to keep us from learning something, but I am at a total loss to figure out what might be. The only thing I can figure is that if you and he get together, somebody’s afraid something else might come out.”
“Like what? I keep telling you guys, I really don’t remember much of anything.”
“I don’t know what it could be,” Sam said. “All I know is that my gut is telling me the shooting is related to this case. And no matter how we might look at it, you are suddenly thrust into the middle of it. There’s almost no doubt now that Pastor Jensen is the one who was kidnapping boys, including you and Kenny Givens. Somewhere along the line, there has to be something you know that somebody doesn’t want us to find out.”
Sam’s cell phone rang and he took it out of his pocket. It was Denny calling and he put it to his ear. “Go ahead.”
“I’m trying to figure out all the angles, Sam,” Denny said. “I just can’t fathom why anyone would want to hurt Steve, not over this case.”
“Kenny and I were just talking about that,” Sam said. “It seems to me that somebody is worried that if Steve and Kenny put their heads together, they might reveal something this person doesn’t want known. I’d say there’s a good chance our shooter is either Jensen’s killer, or someone connected to the murder.”
“In which case,” Denny said, “there should be some connection to Jensen and the people around him at the time. I’ll see what I can make of that, Sam. Any word on Steve yet?”
“Nothing yet,” Sam said. “He still in the ER, they’re trying to get him in stable enough condition to take the bullet out. Between you and me, he was bleeding an awful lot. I don’t mind telling you I’m worried.”
“Want me to call his wife?”
Sam let out a sigh. “No, that’s my job. I’ll do that now.”
“Good on you, mate.” Then he cut the call, and Sam looked in his phone for Steve’s home number. When he found it, he hit the button and put the phone back to his ear.
Edith answered on the fourth ring. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she said.
“Edith, this is Sam,” Sam began. “Edith—Steve’s been shot.”
“Shot?” Edith screamed. “Sam, he just called me a few minutes ago to tell me that Scotty is alive!”
“That’s true, but Steve was sitting in his car outside the police department and I had just told him to come in. Apparently he was shot as he got out of the car, probably right after he talked to you.”
“But why? Who?”
“We don’t have those answers yet, Edith, but we’ll get them. You have my word on that.”
“Sam… How bad is it?”
“Edith, I really don’t know. He was losing a lot of blood, but he was talking to me. He blacked out as the paramedics got there, and they got him in the ER, working on him now. They’ll let me know something as soon as they can, and I’ll call you.”
“Oh, my God,” she said. “Sam—what about Scott? Is he okay?”
“Yes, he’s fine,” Sam said. “In fact, he’s right here with me.”
“He’s there? Sam, it’s really him? Steve said you were certain, are you?”
“I’m certain, Edith. We ran a DNA test, and he confirms that he is your son Scott.” Sam looked at Kenny, sitting beside him, and the boy’s eyebrows were trying to crawl over his forehead.
“Is that my mother?” Kenny whispered, and Sam nodded. Kenny held out his hand for the phone, and Sam gave it to him without another word.
Kenny put it to his ear in time to hear Edith saying, “…can’t wait to see him!”
“Um… Hello? This is—this is Scott.”
A nurse came in the room and was looking around, and Sam got up to give Kenny and Edith some privacy. He approached the nurse and showed his ID.
“Any word on Steve Beck?” he asked.
“Yes, Mr. Prichard,” she said. “They got him stabilized, and he’s going to surgery now. It’s probably going to be a couple of hours before we know anything more, but the doctor thinks he’s got a good chance to make it through this.”
“That’s good,” Sam said. “I’m going to have a couple of my people come and stand guard once he’s out of surgery. Someone tried to kill him, and they may try again.”
The nurse’s eyebrows went up, but she didn’t comment. She simply nodded and turned to walk away.
Sam went back and sat down beside Kenny again. “They said he’s stable, and they are taking him to surgery. It’s going to be a while before we know anything else, but the doctor seems to think he’s got a really good chance.”
“Did you hear that?” Kenny asked. “The doctor says he’s got a good chance. Yeah, me too, I really want to meet both of you.”
Sam grinned and turned away, trying to tune out the conversation so they could talk with some semblance of privacy, but he couldn’t help hearing. He thought it best to simply pretend not to until Kenny handed him the phone back.
“Edith? Are you coming down?”
“Of course I am,” she said. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, Sam. You tell that stubborn husband of mine that he had better wait for me. He’s not allowed to leave without me.”
“I’ll tell him, if he wakes up before you get here. You probably have plenty of time, though. They said it will be at least a couple of hours in surgery.”
“And I’m going to get off the phone and get in the car. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
Sam said goodbye and ended the call, then dropped the phone into his pocket. The two of them sat there in silence, just waiting for word.
SEVENTEEN
Edith arrived a little over an hour later, and Sam made the formal introductions. She and Kenny went to the hospital cafeteria to talk, and Sam promised to let them know as soon as there was any word.
As soon as they were gone, he took out his phone and called Denny.
“What have you got?” he asked as soon as Denny answered the call.
“Not a lot, mate,” Denny said. “We’re going over all of the case files on Jensen, and the girls are looking at all of the church members again. So far, we’re not finding anything that’s making any sense where this is concerned. I’m inclined to agree with you, we are probably dealing with the original killer or someone close to him. I don’t know how to handle this, Sam.”
“It’s jus
t another case, Denny,” Sam said. “Stop thinking about it as being our friend, it’s just another attempted murder. Somebody had a motive, and we need to find out who.”
“That’s so easy for you to say, mate,” Denny said, “but not so easy to do. Steve is our friend, you know? This isn’t just some random case, this is some bloody bastard trying to kill a friend of ours!”
“Yes, but the only way to solve the case is to treat it like any other. I know it’s hard, but we can do it. Have you come up with any ideas yet?”
“I only wish. Sam, what could that lad possibly know that he hasn’t already remembered and told someone? What could there be that someone is afraid Steve would find out, even though no one else ever did?”
“I don’t know that answer yet,” Sam said. “But I intend to.”
Denny let out a sigh. “Fine, fine,” he said. “Walter and I are going out to look around the area, see if we can figure out where the shot came from. I don’t know what else to do, do you?”
“Just keep plugging,” Sam said. “That’s the name of the game, for now.”
“Will do, Sam.” The line went dead.
Sam sat back and thought about the problem himself. Unfortunately, he wasn’t coming up with any ideas, either.
He raised his phone again and called his wife. Indie answered on the first ring.
“Hey, babe,” she said. “How’s it going down there?”
“Well, we confirmed that Kenny Givens is really Scott Beck, but then, just as Steve was going to meet him for the first time, somebody—somebody shot Steve, Indie. He’s in bad shape, but the doctor seems to think he might pull through.”
“Oh, no,” Indie said. “Sam, why?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Sam said. “My only guess is that somebody doesn’t want Steve and Kenny to put their heads together. There must be something they are afraid Kenny will remember if he starts talking to his dad.”
“Is there anything I can do to help, Sam?” she asked.
Sam started to answer in the negative, but then stopped. “Maybe,” he said. “Detective Franklin gave us a list of all the church members from back when Jensen was pastor who are still around, but some have died or moved away. Do you think there’s any chance you could get a list of all the members from back then? I think we might need to talk to any who are still living.”
“From a church? That could be a tall order. Some of them have digitized all that information, though. Let me see what Herman can find out and I’ll call you back.”
They said goodbye, and Sam put the phone back into his pocket. There was nothing for him to do but sit and wait, but that was something he had grown accustomed to over the years.
* * *
Denny and Walter were prowling around under the trees that lined the parking lot of the clerk’s office across the street from police department. Steve had been parked on 33rd Street, just in front of the main entrance to the station, so it was most likely the shooter had fired from somewhere under those trees.
They had been at it for almost half an hour, and Walter was getting frustrated. There were footprints everywhere in the grass under the trees, but no telltale sign of the sniper. Denny had watched as he had gotten down on the ground several times to look closely at broken blades of grass, or to sight across the surface, but each time, he got back up shaking his head.
“Bloody bastard could have been good enough to leave some brass,” Denny said. “At least we would’ve known where he fired from.”
“He shot Steve from somewhere around here,” Walter said, “but I can’t be certain exactly where he was standing.” He stopped suddenly and leaned against a tree, and Denny wondered what he was doing when he began sniffing at the bark. “He was close to here. There’s powder burns on this tree, I can smell it.” He went back to looking at the ground, then suddenly dropped to his belly again.
“Right here,” he said. “He was standing here, right behind the tree. He probably braced the barrel of his gun against the tree to keep it steady.”
“That would explain the powder burns,” Denny said. “Definitely a clear line of sight to where Steve was parked. Rifle, you think?”
Walter shook his head. “Based on these footprints and their proximity to the tree, it had to be a handgun.” He turned and looked toward Steve’s car, still sitting where he had parked it earlier. “That’s a long shot for a handgun, but with the barrel braced against the tree, it could be done.”
Denny nodded. “So the shooter is good. Steve is probably lucky it wasn’t a rifle. He’d probably be dead already.”
Walter was looking at the footprints again. “The shooter was a man, probably between five ten and six feet, weighs about one ninety.”
Denny’s eyebrows rose. “You can tell that much from his footprints?”
Walter nodded. “Yes. The left foot was planted firmly on the ground, but his right foot was balanced on the ball of the foot, slightly behind the left. That puts his legs at an angle that indicates his probable height, and the pressure on the left foot indicates his weight.”
Denny grinned. “Or maybe it’s a long legged midget with an eating problem. I’m kidding, Walter, just playing silly buggers. I know you’re probably right. Let’s go tell the others.”
They went back into the station and to the conference room, where Summer, Jade, Darren and Eric were waiting. Then he told them what Walter had found, with Walter filling in details to help them understand his conclusions.
“My question,” Summer said, “is how this shooter could have been aware that Steve is Kenny’s real father, assuming that was the motive. If Sam is right and the shooter wanted to keep the two of them from getting together, how did he know? I mean, we only found out over the last couple of days, right?”
“I’ve been going over that very problem,” Darren said. “Unfortunately, the only conclusion I can come to is that it has to be someone privy to our investigation.”
Jade’s eyes went round. “But that would mean someone here in the police department,” she said. “Nobody else could possibly know anything about our investigation.”
Darren nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid that’s exactly what I’m saying,” he said. “Whoever shot Steve is probably one of the officers we’ve been dealing with. And to my mind, that makes every single one of them a suspect.”
“Too bloody right,” Denny said, his face growing darker. “There haven’t been that many we’ve talked to, so that should narrow the list.”
“I thought so, too,” Darren said, “until I realized that just about anybody could walk past the door and hear what we’re talking about in here. Sorry, Denny, but it could be anybody who was in the building this morning. In a department this size, we could be talking about dozens of people.”
“Yeah,” Eric added, “but how many of them would have known enough about our investigation to realize what we were talking about? I’ve gone over what was said in my head, and I don’t think anyone who didn’t know quite a bit about this investigation would be able to put Steve and Kenny together. It would have to be someone who has actively been involved, I think, somebody who has been close by when the matter was discussed.”
Darren scowled, but didn’t argue. “That still leaves us with at least a dozen potential suspects. Every single officer who has been around us, at least three detectives. How could we possibly figure out which one of them had motive?”
“Because that’s what we do,” Summer said. “We figure it out.” She got up from her chair and opened a couple of buttons on her blouse. “I’m going to start on it now.” She turned and walked out of the room, and all three of the men watched her go.
“Somebody’s in trouble,” Jade muttered. “She’s in interrogation mode.”
“Let her do her thing,” Denny said. “Meanwhile, we need to find out where every one of those officers and detectives was when Steve was shot.”
* * *
Sam was still sitting in the waiting room a hal
f hour later when the doctor walked in.
“Mr. Prichard?” he said. “I’m Doctor Wilkie. Your friend made it through surgery, but I’m keeping him listed as being in critical condition at the moment. The bullet nicked his aorta, and if it had been a couple of millimeters to the left, he would’ve bled out before he ever got here. As it is, he’s lost a lot of blood and we had to give him several units. I think he’s got a pretty decent chance to pull through, but a lot depends on the next few hours.”
“Thank you,” Sam said. “His wife and son are here. Can we see him?”
“Not right at the moment. He’s in the ICU, and I got him under constant watch for right now. Let’s give it about four hours, see how he’s doing then. If he’s showing signs of becoming more stable, we can allow visitors then.”
Sam nodded. “I do appreciate it, Doctor,” he said. “I’ll let his family know.”
The doctor turned and walked away, and Sam took his phone out. He called Denny as he walked toward the cafeteria.
“Denny, it’s Sam,” he said unnecessarily. “I just talked to Steve’s doctor, and he made it through surgery. He’s in critical condition at the moment, but they think he’s going to pull through.”
“That’s bloody good news,” Denny said. “Now let me give you some bad news. We’ve come to the conclusion that the shooter had to be one of the policemen in this building.”
“Yeah, I think the same way. Nobody else could have known that Steve is Kenny’s real father, so somebody there knows too much about this case. Makes me wonder if Jensen’s killer could be on the force, but he’d have to be pretty old.”
“Not necessarily, Sam,” Denny replied. “Franklin said he was a rookie back then, and he’s only in his early fifties. Maybe we need to find out who else was on the force back then and still with it.”
“Good thought. See to it, will you? I’m on my way down to tell Edith and Kenny what the doctor had to say.”
“Good enough,” Denny said. “We’ll take it from here, and you keep us posted.”