Sun Catcher - Book Two

by Giselle Fox

  “I won’t be for much longer. Charlie just showed up. We’re going to start in a few minutes. I just wanted to see you before ... you know.”

  Max began to squirm in Taylor’s arms. “I might have to take this guy home for his nap soon. I’m hoping he can hang on for just a bit longer.”

  “Well you know where I’ll be,” Jericho said and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  Taylor watched her go. “Have fun!”

  Jericho waved back. “I will try.”

  Watching Jericho leave was the last straw for Max. “You done, little one?” his grandmother said as she tried to take him. The traffic around their table had begun to die down.

  “Everyone’s at the food trucks,” Taylor said. “Maybe I’ll try taking him for a little wander.”

  She aimed for the dunk tank but the noonday sun was scorching out on the fairground. The heat and crowds only made Max worse. “Alright, sweetness, let’s just get you home.”

  Lucinda heard them coming. “Just sold a few more jars. We’re out of strawberry now.”

  “Good,” Taylor said. “I’m going to grab Digger and take the boys home.” But Digger was nowhere to be found. The rope she’d tied him with was sheared clean through. She looked out over the fair ground, figuring he went looking for food.

  “Have you seen a little black dog wandering around?” she asked everyone around her table.

  “He was right there a minute ago, just by that tree,” Dale, the wood carver told her. Taylor looked out over the busy field again. “He can’t have gone far.”

  It was the last thing she needed. Max was screaming blue murder and the dog was gone. She wove her way through the park, calling Digger’s name, but her calls were swallowed up by the noise of the crowd. The heat bore down and Max’s red face turned even redder under his little sun hat.

  “Hold on, baby boy, we’re gonna find Digger and then I’ll get you home, I promise.” Of course, it didn’t help. “He’s probably into the garbage cans.”

  The line-ups at the food trucks were all a mile long so she walked back behind them. Then she saw a familiar furry black ball huddled over a half-eaten hot dog. He looked up at her, guilty-as-charged, ketchup and mustard all over his muzzle. The remainder of his rope hung from his collar.

  “Jesus, Digger. Could you stay put for once? Come here,” she said and picked up his rope. But then she saw something else around his neck. Another tag - except this one was real silver. It was a bracelet she hadn’t worn in years. One she’d left behind because it wasn’t her name anymore.

  Sandy.

  It felt like her heart stopped beating. She whirled around and scanned the faces in the crowd knowing Stinger might be watching her that very minute.

  She pulled Digger tight to her side and walked fast to her table. As if he’d sensed something was very wrong, Max stopped screaming. Taylor could see her mother ahead, talking to a customer. Her car was parked right behind her table - and no one was standing beside it. She spun around again and searched the faces around her.

  “Hang on just a sec,” Lucinda said interrupting the woman she’d been speaking to. She trotted over to Taylor. “You look like you’ve seen a -”

  Taylor held up the bracelet. “He’s here ... somewhere.”

  “Shit,” her mother hissed. Her dark eyes darted around them. “We gotta move.”

  They packed themselves quickly into the car without another word.

  The fellow at the table next to them noticed they were leaving. “Uh ... want me to keep an eye on things?”

  “Thanks,” Taylor said back to him. She took one last look and then peeled out in reverse.

  “So far so good,” her mother said as she kept watch behind them.

  Taylor glanced in her rear view too. She watched a silver sedan pull through the parking lot and head for a different exit. “Who’s that?”

  Her mother spotted it too. “Shit.”

  “Everything in the back?”

  “We’ve got it all. You just worry about driving.”

  ***

  “Okay, okay. I’m raising the ticket price after that one,” Jericho said as she climbed out of the tank for the third time in a row. Up until that point, no one had thrown a good enough shot to drop her but the minute Charlie had stepped up, the game had gotten a whole lot chillier.

  “I don’t mind, I brought lots of cash,” her sister shouted.

  “How much you got?”

  “Enough to dunk you a few more times and buy one of Barb’s pies.”

  “Okay, this one is going to cost you $50,”

  “That’s fine,” she said nonchalantly. “Can we get some more ice in that tank?”

  The people around her cheered.

  “It’s cold enough, believe me,” Jericho laughed.

  “Oh, I believe you. I just think it could be a teensy bit colder,” her sister called. “How about I do this one with my eyes closed?”

  “As if,” Jericho taunted.

  Charlie hiked her skirt up her thigh a little and pretended to wind up. “Okay, folks. For a good cause, who wants to help me pay for this shot?”

  Three people threw money into the bucket at Charlie’s feet.

  “Better hold your breath, sister,” she called.

  “Why would I bother?” Jericho teased. “You throw like a girl.”

  Charlie blew her a kiss and then hurled the ball square at the target. The platform dropped before Jericho even had a chance to scream.

  “You’re right, I do throw like a girl,” Charlie called. “A girl that can throw a sixty-five mile an hour fastball, that is.”

  “Please! You haven’t done that since high school,” Jericho called as she scrambled up the ladder again. “Bet you can’t do it again.”

  Charlie looked around the crowd. “Anyone want to see me beat my record?”

  “I’m in for a twenty, Charlie,” one guy said.

  “I’ve got a ten,” said another.

  Charlie held up the bucket to a few more with singles and change. “Ready Jaybird?”

  Jericho knew full well she was going in the water again but she leaned back against the plexiglass tank and clasped her hands behind her head for effect.

  “I’m ready to get some sun while you miss in front of all these - “ Jericho heard the ball connect with the target and she dropped into the tank like a stone.

  “Lucky shot. Bet you can’t do it again,” she sputtered when she came to the surface.

  “Oh yeah? How much you wanna bet?”

  “How much you got?”

  Charlie peered into her wallet. “Two-fifty.”

  “One hundred, then,” Jericho called.

  The spectators whooped.

  “Alright, Councilor Duke. Back up on your little podium,” Charlie called.

  “More ice! More ice!” the guys in the beer garden chanted.

  Charlie grinned at her. “Gotta give the people what they want, Jaybird.”

  Jericho’s teeth were chattering already.

  “Ice ... is going t-to cost you,”

  “How much?”

  “Twenty feet and another fi-fifty.”

  “Deal,” Charlie called.

  Jericho climbed back onto the platform and watched as more buckets of ice were added.

  “Okay folks, new deal. $5 will buy you a bucket of ice for the tank,” Charlie called.

  “I’m in,” called one man.

  “I’m in for two,” called Claudia Howell from the sidelines. Jericho looked over just as she pulled a ten from her wallet. Claudia gave her a little wave.

  “Anyone else?”

  More buckets of ice were added. Charlie pranced along the edge of the beer garden collecting cash as Jericho enjoyed the warmth of the sun. Jericho stood up on her seat and looked out over the field toward Taylor’s table.

  “Hey Charlie, what time is it,” she called.

  “Time you went swimming again,” Charlie bantered.

  “No, seriously.”

&nbs
p; “Quarter past twelve, Jeri,” one of the spectators called.

  Jericho stood up on her tiptoes and looked around the field again. Taylor and her mother were nowhere in sight.

  “Can you pass me my phone,” she called down to her sister.

  Charlie pulled it from her bag and handed it up to her.

  There were no texts from Taylor.

  “That’s weird,” she said.

  She flipped to the GPS tracker expecting to see them on their way home. But Taylor’s car was out on the highway.

  “You about ready?” Charlie called up.

  “Um ... yeah,” Jericho said. “Last one.”

  “Okay folks, this is it,” Charlie called. “Last chance to see Councilor Duke take the plunge of icy doom. Are you rrrr-ready?”

  “Yeah!!”

  Jericho gazed out over the field again. Within seconds, she was submerged in ice. She scrambled as fast as she could up the ladder and jumped onto the ground. She gave the audience a little bow.

  “I think that went better than last year,” Charlie said.

  Jericho wrapped a towel around her shoulders and checked her phone again.

  Taylor’s car was further along the highway and nearing the interstate. “I’m just going to run over to Taylor’s table.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Charlie said.

  When they got there, the table was empty and everything else had been left behind.

  “They took off in a hurry,” said Dale Moresby. “It looked like an emergency.”

  Jericho checked the tracker again. She looked up at her sister. “I think he found her.”

  ***

  “Anything?” Taylor asked.

  “I don’t see it. We either lost him or they weren’t following us in the first place,” her mother said from the back seat.

  That was wishful thinking and Taylor knew it. The silver sedan had followed them all the way through town and out onto the highway. They’d lost them at the interstate connector when she’d sped ahead and looped back around.

  Taylor looked back at her family in the mirror. Her mother’s hand was resting on Max’s leg. The cell phone was in her other hand. The lines on her face had deepened with worry.

  “So ... what did Bill say?” Taylor asked.

  “He didn’t say much,” her mother sighed.

  “Do you think they’ll come?”

  Lucinda shrugged. “I hope so. He didn’t say no.”

  “Did he say yes?”

  “He didn’t exactly say that either.”

  Taylor slammed her hand on the steering wheel.

  “If it’s just Stinger in that car then we’re fine.”

  “And if it’s not?”

  “Depends who’s with him.”

  “Well, Del’s is probably the safest place for us to be right now.”

  It was true, Taylor’s uncle Pete had been both a car enthusiast and a bit of a doomsdayer. His basement was more of a bunker than anything else. Taylor knew if worse came to worse, her son and mother would be safe there at least. She hoped she could talk some sense into Stinger before he did anything stupid and if he did, then her mother could call the police.

  “I hope we’re making the right move here,” she said to her mother through the mirror. They were taking a pretty big chance relying on Bill.

  Lucinda looked behind them again. “Me too, baby.”

  ***

  “So what’s the plan here, Jay?”

  Jericho looked over at her sister. Her blue hair was bundled under a pale yellow scarf. Her face was stony behind her Raybans. Jericho was still soaking wet but she was no longer freezing, at least. The engine of the convertible roared beneath them.

  “We’re going to follow them until we catch up,” Jericho said trying to sound calm. She didn’t want to think of what might happen if Stinger got to Taylor first. She pushed that thought out of her mind and stayed focused on the road.

  “Okay … well, let’s not get pulled over,” her sister said as she looked behind them.

  They’d been speeding for the last hour and a half trying to make up ground. Taylor’s car was at least twenty minutes ahead of them and had been for most of the drive.

  “We’re not getting pulled over,” Jericho muttered without taking her eyes off the road.

  Her sister reached over and rubbed her shoulder. “We’ll get there.”

  Jericho stared straight ahead.

  “So … when did you put the tracker on her car?” Charlie asked.

  Jericho glanced over at her. “Last week.”

  “Well, in this particular case I’d have to say it was smart thinking,” Charlie said.

  “Thanks. Let’s hope it’s working properly.”

  “Any idea where she might be going?”

  Jericho shook her head but then something occurred to her. “Her mother went to visit her sister in the hospital. I wonder if it’s her place.”

  “Name?”

  “Del. The uncle was … Pete. He’s dead.”

  Charlie picked up her phone. “Lexi,” she said simply. Jericho nodded.

  “Hey Lex, it’s me. Call me back when you get this. It’s urgent.” Charlie kept the phone in her hand.

  Jericho glanced over at Charlie again. “Think she sent the information?”

  Charlie looked back at her. “She said she would.”

  Jericho shrugged. “I’m not sure what good it’ll do at this point. If he’s found her ...” Jericho swallowed hard. Her voice was shaking. When Charlie reached for her hand, she realized just how hard she’d been gripping the steering wheel.

  “I’m okay, I just need to get there.”

  Charlie looked behind them. “Fuck it. Let’s see how fast this thing can go.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Taylor pulled the Coronet behind the old barn and parked. Mama climbed out and hoisted her shotgun under one arm. She turned to Taylor and tried to smile. “Never thought it’d come to this.”

  Taylor scanned the property; the barren, dry fields, the dilapidated barn, and the broken down house. There was no sign that anyone had been there in a long time. “They’re not here.”

  “They will be soon enough,” her mother said as she kept watch on the driveway.

  Taylor opened up the back door of the car. “Beautiful boy, look at you. Sleeping like an angel.” She smoothed the sweaty hair from his forehead and tried not to cry. “Let’s get him inside.”

  A few minutes later, Taylor sat in the old chair on the porch. Stinger’s gun was loaded in her lap. She heard a car out on the road and then the sound of tires on the gravel path.

  “Get ready,” she called.

  As the silver sedan made its way toward her, she could see the familiar faces of Joe Thornton and Barnie Keith, task force cops from Independence, behind the windshield. Taylor hadn’t figured that Stinger would send these snakes to do his dirty work. The car pulled in and stopped in front of the house. The men stepped out slowly. Neither were in uniform.

  “Hey there, Sandy,” Barnie called. “Should have known you’d come out here.”

  Taylor nodded to him. “Where’s Stinger?”

  “Oh, he’ll be along,” Joe said from the passenger side.

  “This is between me and him,” Taylor called.

  “Stinger’s business is our business,” Joe drawled as he walked closer to the steps. He eyed the gun on her lap. “You got a permit for that Sandy?”

  Taylor shrugged. “Ask Stinger, it belongs to him.”

  Barnie whistled from where he stood.

  “You’ll be coming with us, one way or another,” Joe said. He pulled his gun and aimed it at her.

  “Where are the books?” Barnie shouted.

  “What books,” Taylor asked innocently.

  “The books that Gus kept. Where are they?”

  “Is that why you chased me out here? What could you boys want with my father’s ledgers?”

  “You know damn well what.”

  “Is it because yo
u and Joe are mentioned in those books every month for the last ten years?”

  Joe crept closer with his gun aimed. “Where are they?” he hissed.

  She looked him in the eye. “Did you burn down my mama’s house, Joe?”

  He laughed a sick, menacing laugh as he climbed the porch steps toward her. “Maybe I did.”

  “How’d you find me?” she asked.

  “Does it matter?”

  It didn’t really. Taylor knew they had more ways of finding things out than she ever would.

  “Give us the books and we’ll make sure the boy is kept safe,” Barnie called from the ground.

  Taylor looked at him. “And what happens to me?”

  Joe chuckled. “You know what happens.”

  “Which one of you is gonna do me in? You or Barnie?” she asked.

  “Oh, probably me,” Joe said as he inched closer. “Been looking forward to it too.”

  “You know what’s funny?” Taylor said calmly. “Stinger has been working with the feds for years and you two don’t even realize it.”

  Joe glanced back at Barnie but said nothing.

  “Doesn’t take a genius to put it together,” she continued. “First my father, then the Horsemen, the Reapers’s then a month after that, the Vagabonds. Who’s the link? Stinger James.”

  The officers looked at each other again.

  “You boys let him get away with murder once, probably even helped him cover it up. You want to keep digging the hole you’re in?”

  “That’s enough,” Joe said between his teeth. He took another step closer.

  Barnie lowered his gun. “Just give us the books, Sandy.”

  “Not until I have a guarantee that you and Stinger won’t come after us again,” she said.

  “A guarantee?” Joe spat. “I got a guarantee for you.” He lunged at her and pressed the barrel of his gun against her cheek. “Drop that gun.”

  “Don’t shoot,” she whispered. “I’ll give you the books. Just please, keep my son safe.”

  Joe took a few steps back. A satisfied grin spread across his ugly face. Taylor bent forward slowly and let the gun dangle from her finger. She placed it gently at his feet. She held his gaze without blinking as he stared back at her with cold, murderous eyes. When he bent to pick it up, his eyes left hers, long enough for her to pull the pepper spray from under her thigh and blast him square in the face. He dropped his gun and fell backward. His screams filled the sky. She scooped up Stinger’s gun and jumped clear of the porch. Then she heard the click of a double barrel.