by J. C. Kenney
If I could hold on that long.
As we closed in on the bridge, the truck drifted to the right, back to the left, and then back to the right. Too far to the right. The passenger side of the truck hit the guardrail, producing a shower of sparks and an earsplitting screech as metal rubbed against metal until it ground to a stop.
I slammed on my brakes and dismounted, sucking in lungfuls of air as I crept toward the truck.
“Larry? It’s over. Don’t make this worse than it already is.” I reached for my cell when there was no response. Between the physical exertion and the bullet wound, my fingers were trembling so hard I struggled to key in the code to unlock the phone.
During my third attempt, the truck’s driver door swung open. Larry hobbled out. He had a gash across his forehead that was bleeding like something out of a horror movie. That was less of a problem than the rifle he had in his hands, though. It was pointing right at me.
“You’re wrong. It’s not over. Not by a long shot.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Long shot.” He jabbed the rifle at me and laughed. “Get it?”
I kept my distance as a wave of nausea coursed through me. A quick glance at my shirt showed a red splotch that was expanding with each breath I took. The physical exertion needed for my insane race hadn’t done the wound any favors. My scraped-up forearms were throbbing, too.
I gritted my teeth and focused on the rifle barrel. “Very funny, Larry. What I get is that you’re a murderer. You killed Georgie and tried to make me take the fall.”
“Of course I did.” He leaned against the truck’s open door and used his sleeve to wipe away blood that was trickling into his eye. “Been planning it for months. Years, actually. I hated that worthless bum since the day I met him. And then he had the audacity to ruin my Lorelei’s life by getting her pregnant. When she wouldn’t get rid of him, I had to.”
“You took out the insurance policy.” I figured if I could keep him talking, help would arrive. Our dash down the Boulevard couldn’t have gone unnoticed.
“Who else? One of the advantages of being mayor is having access to the files of every city employee. When Roger fired Georgie, it gave me the perfect opportunity to swoop in and look like a kindhearted father-in-law by giving him a job working for your brother.”
“Wow. You’re more devious than I thought. I figured you were just a womanizer when I learned about your affair with Charissa. That’s still going on, I take it?” I was trying again to unlock my cell when the gun went off. I screamed and dropped it.
“Don’t even try reaching for it.”
“Okay.” I stepped away from the phone. Where was the cavalry when you needed it? “But I’m done keeping your and Charissa’s secret. I kept it under my hat because I thought it was a private matter. Not anymore. Was she simply another pawn on your chessboard? Did you manipulate her just like you’ve manipulated everyone else in this town?”
“Not really, but when she started working at Hoosiers—at my suggestion, I might add—I saw an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. She was the perfect person to keep me up to speed on Georgie’s comings and goings.”
And then the final puzzle pieces dropped into place. The realization would have taken my breath away if I wasn’t already struggling to breathe.
“You told Charissa to call the police to buy you time to get from your house to Lori’s house. You couldn’t take your SUV or this thing.” I waved at the truck. “Those were too noticeable. You rode your bike and hid in the shadows of the big tree in the yard.”
He made a half bow. “I knew Abbott wouldn’t tail Georgie any longer than he had to. I cut Georgie off before he’d gotten five feet from his car. Told him I had an idea to prank Roger Parke. He loved it, especially when I showed him a backpack that had the bolt cutter and booze.”
“Then it was you who stole my fleece and slipped Georgie’s ID under my door.” A faint siren’s wail caught my attention. While it was a relief to have help on the way, I couldn’t let him get back in his truck. I stepped toward him.
“Don’t come any closer. I’m taking these shots in self-defense, you understand. I won’t let you use your dangerous kicking skills on me.” He lowered the rifle barrel and pulled the trigger. The shot hit the pavement mere inches from my left foot.
“And, yes, I did those things. Bringing you down was going to be the icing on the cake.” He fired again, this time barely missing my right foot.
The siren’s undulating call grew louder. Larry looked past me.
Now was my chance.
“Don’t worry. I won’t kick you.” I lunged at him, bringing my right arm back to deliver a roundhouse punch. Once I was close enough, I let out a roar and brought my fist forward. It connected with his jaw and sent him spiraling, first into the truck’s door, then to the ground.
The gun clattered to the pavement between us. I scooped it up before he could make a move for it.
“Don’t you dare move an inch.” I kept the rifle pointed at him while I grabbed my phone and dialed Matt. I told him where we were. He said he was already en route.
A police cruiser skidded to a halt beside me seconds later. My knuckles were throbbing like a bass drum keeping time with a clock. A few of them were probably broken, but I kept the firearm pointed at Larry until the officer was out of the car.
It was Jeanette.
“Stay down. Put your hands behind your head.” Her shouts carried so much authority, Larry followed them without a hint of argument. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, she was on one knee and putting Larry in handcuffs.
“You okay, Allie?” She responded to my nod with a frown and used her microphone to request an ambulance.
Matt arrived, bringing his cruiser to a stop in front of the truck. With his gun drawn, he sprinted to my side. “My God. You’ve been shot.”
“That’s the rumor.” A chuckle was cut off by a lightning bolt of pain from the bullet hole. I handed the rifle to Matt and crumpled to the ground, using Jeanette’s car as a backrest.
While Jeanette dealt with Larry, Matt ran to his car. He returned with a thick pad of gauze, which he placed over my wound. Then he put my injured right hand, which was still balled into a fist, on top of the gauze.
“Keep that covered until the paramedics get here.” He gave me a long look, then shook his head. “You actually chased down a killer on your bike.”
“With my arms scraped like with a cheese grater and a bullet in my chest.” I winced at the discomfort the pressure on the wound was causing to both my chest and my hand. “Getting shot made me mad. Don’t make me mad.”
Matt laughed. “You ought to put that on a shirt. You’d make a fortune.”
Evidently convinced I wasn’t going to die anytime soon, he gave my uninjured shoulder a squeeze and went to help Jeanette as she dealt with Larry.
A few minutes later, the paramedics arrived. I wanted to walk to the ambulance, but they insisted on using a stretcher, overruling my protests that lying down on the job would damage my Kickboxing Crusader cred.
* * * *
Mom met me at the emergency room. She wasn’t happy.
“Last year you got strangled. Now you get shot. What am I going to do with you?” Her watery eyes belied her harsh words.
“All in a day’s work.” The pain medication I’d been given in the ambulance was doing an A-plus job, so I was in a jovial mood. “Guess you’re going to have to visit Luke and Sloane on Friday by yourself, huh?” I tried to wink but ended up closing both eyes at the same time. At least my clumsy attempt at winking made Mom laugh.
* * * *
I woke up in a hospital bed. My right hand was wrapped in a thick bandage. My left upper chest was covered in gauze, and an IV was stuck in my arm. Bandages covered the most serious cuts and scrapes on my arms.
My best friend was in a chair in the co
rner of the room, working on her laptop.
“Can I get a drink?” My throat was parched, so my request was akin to a frog’s croak.
“Omigod, Allie. One sec.” Sloane practically dropped her computer on the floor in her rush to my bedside. A plastic cup with a straw sticking out of it was on a stand next to my bed. She guided the straw into my mouth and held the cup while I sucked the frigid water down my throat. When the cup was empty, she refilled it.
“The Kickboxing Crusader strikes again.” Sloan was smiling from ear to ear. “I can’t believe you caught the murderer, again. I mean, I can totally believe it, but still.” She tapped me on my good shoulder. “You’re amazing, girlfriend.”
“It was either find the killer or go to jail. And you know orange isn’t my color.” I sucked down another cup of water as she laughed.
A nurse came in to check my vital signs and dressings. The woman’s eyes were wide open, and she barely said a word before promising the doctor would be in shortly and then hurrying out the door.
“That was weird.”
“I think taking care of the woman who busted the mayor has her freaked out. Plus, your mom can be a little intimidating. She’s taking a break in the café.” Sloane ticked out a message on her phone. “I just let her know you’re awake.”
“How long have I been out?” While the water had revived me, I was still a little groggy and had absolutely no sense of time.
“They took you into surgery around five and you’ve been out ever since. It’s almost nine in the morning. You had a good night’s sleep. And don’t worry. I checked in on Ursi last night. She’s fine. She told me to tell you meow.”
I glanced at the ceiling. I was out all night? Sloane must have read my mind because she patted my foot as she sat on the corner of the bed.
“Thanks to your superhero crime fighting efforts, removing the bullet was more complicated than normal. Cleaning the wound to prevent infection was a challenge. Then they needed to fix your hand.”
I was about to ask after Larry when Mom came in with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a balloon in the other. Once we made eye contact, she handed the decorations to Sloane and rushed to give me a hug.
“How do you feel? Any dizziness? Does the area around the gunshot wound feel hot? Can you move the fingers on your broken hand?”
“Mom.” I waited until she stopped fussing over me. “I’m fine. No dizziness. No infection-related discomfort.” I lifted my right hand and wiggled my fingers, ignoring the throbbing caused by the demonstration. “You can relax, okay?”
“How am I supposed to relax with news crews from Indianapolis crawling all over town asking about you?” Despite her cross tone, Mom couldn’t hide a smile and burst out laughing when Sloane said it was business as usual for the Kickboxing Crusader.
A little while later, I talked to Brent, who only stopped freaking out about my injuries when Mom assured him I would be fine. Then it was breakfast time, which was good because I was famished. I was plowing through a bowl of oatmeal and some sliced fruit when there was a knock at the door.
Sloane stepped aside to let Matt in. After exchanging hugs with the others, he asked me how I was doing.
“Getting better by the minute. My surgeon was here earlier. He said if I’m feeling okay, I can go home this afternoon.”
“That’s great. I don’t want to keep you from your breakfast, but I’ve got good news. Last night, Larry made a full confession to Georgie’s murder.”
“No way.” It was better than good news. It was the best news I could imagine. “How’d you manage that?”
“You’re not going to believe this, but when word got out he was in custody, Charissa came to see him. About ten minutes later, Anita showed up.” Matt paused as he covered his mouth, evidently trying to maintain a sense of decorum. “And Charissa was still there. A lot of harsh words were exchanged. After I managed to get both women out of the station, he confessed. He said something about it being safer inside behind bars than outside at the mercy of two angry women.”
“You should have let him out and made him fend for himself,” Sloane said. “He killed Georgie and tried to screw over Allie. Whatever happened to him, he had it coming.”
“Don’t think that option didn’t cross my mind. Especially after it became obvious neither woman had any involvement in his scheme.” Matt straightened the collar of his shirt. “Let’s just say neither will be testifying on his behalf as a character witness.”
I let out a contented sigh as I looked from Mom to Sloane to Matt. I had a bullet hole in me and three broken knuckles, but I’d caught the bad guy. That felt good.
“What’s next?” I popped a grape in my mouth and savored the soft texture. It was easy to chew, despite the pain in other parts of my body. I was ready for easy things for a while.
Matt looked from Sloane to Mom, as if he wanted their approval before saying anything more. They both nodded.
“The press would like to talk to you. Do you think you’re up to it?”
“Come on. Do I have to?”
“No, but fair warning, if you don’t talk to them, I’m sure Maybelle will be happy to tell them everything. And you know she won’t let the truth get in the way of a good story.” He winked.
That settled it. If anyone was going to tell my story, it was going to be me.
“Then let’s do it. All part of the drill for the Kickboxing Crusader, right?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Ready for your big speech?” Brent helped me into my suit jacket.
I thanked him with a kiss. The ceremonial ribbon cutting to officially open Winchester-Cobb Memorial Park was set to begin in an hour. It was almost showtime.
“A small speech, yes. A big speech, no.”
“Regardless of length, you’ll be amazing.” He straightened his bow tie and flicked some pet hair from the lapel of his tweed suit jacket. When he was dressed up, he really looked like a stereotypical librarian, which made him the sexiest man around.
“I hope so. Public speaking’s not my strong suit.”
“Catching criminals wasn’t either, and look at you now. You’re a legend in this town.”
I rolled my eyes. “A legend who would be perfectly happy going back to being a literary agent and nothing else.”
Things had been returning to normal in the month since I’d solved Georgie Alonso’s murder. At least as normal as things could be for a town whose mayor was a confessed murderer. The clerk-treasurer had been sworn in as mayor until a new one was elected. Angela was now running unopposed, so she was a shoo-in to be Rushing Creek’s next chief executive.
I was happy with that development, if not the way it came about. I hadn’t thought Angela would lose to Larry, but I hadn’t thought Larry was a murderer, either, so there you go.
Construction of the park finished on budget and only three days late. The community really stepped up the last week to make sure all the final details, like signage and landscaping around the gazebo, were completed to Sloane’s satisfaction. The park wouldn’t have existed if not for her incredible generosity, so the community owed it to her to unveil a park she could be proud of. They did that. And then some.
In short, the park was stunning.
Now, all I had to do was say a few words about my father and Thornwell, thank Sloane for her gift, and cut an oversized red ribbon with a pair of scissors almost as big as me. Physical therapy had helped restore much of the range of motion to my left shoulder, but there were still some things I couldn’t do, like put on a suit jacket by myself and lift heavy weights. It remained to be seen if operating a pair of oversized scissors would have to be added to the list.
I coaxed Ursi off her perch by the front window and into her harness while Brent roused Sammy, who’d been napping in her doggy bed in a corner of the living room. The grand opening was being billed as a fam
ily affair. To me, that meant four-legged family members were welcome, too.
After a few drizzly, gray days, the clouds had departed, and the sun was out in all her celestial glory. With a spring to our steps, we left my building, ready to enjoy the Chamber of Commerce weather. The skies were blue as far as the eye could see, and the temperature had risen to the mid-sixties. The air was still, which made for excellent viewing of the vibrant green, red, and orange fall leaves.
Perfect conditions for a stroll to the park.
We stopped and said hi to dozens of folks on our walk. A lot of people asked how I was feeling. I was happy to show off my right hand, which had been out of a hard cast for a couple of days and would be in a soft cast for another two to three weeks. The knuckles had healed well, the cuts and scrapes on my arms were gone, and the bullet was going to leave a tiny scar, at most. It didn’t look like I was going to have any long-term issues with any of my injuries. Thank goodness.
When the park came into view, Brent stopped. “I’ve been thinking about how you figured out Mayor Cannon was the killer. It was brilliant. I wanted to tell you how lucky I am to have such a brilliant, persistent, caring woman in my life.”
My cheeks got warm. The man had a knack for saying the perfect thing at the perfect time.
“Thank you. I’m glad you have me in your life, too.” As we laughed at my little joke, I took his hand in mine. “Seriously, though, I feel like I got lucky. If I hadn’t had been at the chocolate shop when they were taking pictures of the new bike racks with Larry, I wouldn’t have seen him wearing the jacket and dress shirt. If not for that, I wouldn’t have realized Larry was keeping his arms covered to hide scratch marks from the limbs he used to cover Georgie’s car.”
“But you did realize it. That’s what matters. No detail ever gets past you, Allie. That’s why you’re so amazing in everything you do. Just promise me one thing.”
“Maybe. Depends on what you want me to promise.” After a compliment like that, it was hard to imagine me ever turning Brent down, but one could never be too sure.