Days of Reckoning

by Chris Stout

  “Okay. I think I can handle that.”

  “Good. Now we all gotta lay low for a while. Damon’s more than likely gonna come looking for us too. But maybe he’ll be cocky, seein’ as how he dropped the Chief and all our boys. We gotta keep an eye on each other. Jesse, you should probably send your old lady over to stay with her sister or something. Then you guys can bunk out here with me.”

  Tim grimaced. “Why your place? It’s pretty cramped here.”

  Eldon nodded. “I know, but it ain’t likely Damon’ll be able to ambush us here like he did out at the lodge.”

  “What if he just drives by and opens up with that machine gun of his?”

  “Well, while Jesse’s talkin’ to the cops, you and I can reinforce this place a bit. Put some extra wood on the walls, move the heavy furniture up against them, shit like that.”

  “Won’t the Feds think that’s a little strange?” Jesse asked.

  “We’re just trying to protect ourselves, right?”

  “Yeah, but that why we’re in a unit, and that ain’t considered legal.”

  Eldon let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, it’s different when it’s a man’s home. Defending that’s still legal, even if we ain’t allowed to defend our country.”

  “Oh.” Jesse didn’t sound convinced.

  “Look,” Eldon said. “We gotta stick together here. There’s some psycho nut gunning for the very people who’ve been sheltering him. The Feds are gonna be sniffing around real close. We’re in a real shitty spot, and if we don’t help each other out, we’re all fucked.”

  That seemed to get through to the younger man. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll go see if I can find this cop Connor. You boys make them walls real thick, you hear?” He crumpled his beer can, missed when he tossed it at the trash, and got up to go find Sam.

  #

  Sam Connor was not in his office when Jesse McClintock came around looking for him.

  “Do you know when he’ll be back in?”

  The desk sergeant shook his head. “Probably not ‘til tomorrow morning. He went out to the Sheriff’s Department, then was going home for the day.”

  Jesse wanted to swear, but thought better of it and kept his mouth shut. “Well, is there any way I can call him?”

  “Sure. I’ll give you his extension and you can leave a message for him. He’s pretty religious about checking voice-mail.” Jesse didn’t look convinced, so the desk sergeant continued, “If you want, I’ll take your number down too, have him give you a call. That way you’ll at least hear from him in the morning.”

  “Okay, I guess that’ll work.” Jesse hurriedly scribbled his name and a number on a proffered notepad, then picked up the telephone receiver while the desk sergeant dialed Sam’s office number.

  Chapter 20

  Miranda sat with Sam in his living room. He had another notepad, braced against his knee, and drummed a pen against it. “I think we’re finally getting somewhere,” he said.

  Miranda sipped at a beer. “Looks like it. We’ve got the prints of everyone that was found dead, plus a few others.”

  “Including Damon’s, I’m willing to bet.”

  The County Sheriff’s forensics team had lifted the prints of the five dead men from the various weapons found at the Lodge. Additionally, the prints of Jesse McClintock, Tim Butcher and Eldon Marshall were pulled from the assault rifles and pistols in the basement. Another, as yet unidentified, set of prints was also found. Sam suspected them to belong to Damon, who wouldn’t necessarily have a record with local law enforcement, but his prints might be on file nationally.

  “These other guys all have various misdemeanors, usually public intox or drunk and disorderly,” Sam said. “They may have done worse stuff, but with the Chief helping them out it would all have gone away. With no felony or domestic charges against them, they can still buy and own firearms and ammunition. This other guy,” he tapped a circled question mark, “we don’t have any record of.”

  “So he must either be a perfect angel or from out of state,” Miranda said. “Wainwright might have been able to help with charges, but he would still have had to print him.”

  “Right. I’ve sent off a priority request to the FBI to see if I can get a line on this guy. Sheriff said he’ll send a request to the counties in West Virginia, northern Kentucky and Western PA, maybe eastern Indiana. All that’s gonna take some time.”

  “Which we probably don’t have a lot of.” Miranda mentally calculated the days left until “Unity Day.” There weren’t that many, but the clock was ticking. She wondered how much more she would have to do to keep herself in the clear until then. Right now it looked like three more would have to die, assuming she didn’t have to take drastic measures.

  “No,” Sam said, “we don’t. But we have these three.” He listed off their names. “And we know where they live and work. So maybe we can catch a break and get to them before Damon does.”

  Now that would be nice, Miranda thought. “So when do you want to try to find these guys?”

  “How tired are you?”

  “I’ve been working on a degree and this job all year. I can’t remember when I haven’t been,” she replied. “So I’m good to go.”

  “Great.” Sam put aside his notepad and rose from his recliner. “Then let’s go out and get some coffee to clean the beer from our systems, and see what these guys are up to.”

  #

  Jesse McClintock did not want to go back to Eldon’s trailer, at least not yet. The last thing he could imagine wanting to do was trying to outfit a mobile home to withstand a siege. Eldon was nuts if he thought extra plywood and rearranging the furniture was going to save them. He needed to find Sam Connor, and he needed to find him fast. Much as he hated going to “Big Brother” for help, right now it seemed to be the only way to keep himself alive.

  After his unfruitful trip to the police station, he stopped off at a local bar. No harm there, he thought. Damon Shearer was unlikely to try and take him out in a public place. Better to stay out among people he knew, at least until he could get hold of Connor. Then maybe he could go into witness protection or something like that. Besides, the bar had better beer than Eldon did. Jesse hated tasting metal with a beverage.

  He sipped his beer, ate some bar food, and considered his situation. Jesse decided that it sucked. Damon was after him, if the Feds weren’t already they would be soon, and if he did go into hiding then the militia movement would probably hunt him down for fear that he would rat them out. He hadn’t considered that earlier. Maybe it was better that he hadn’t found Detective Connor after all. Shit, he didn’t know what to do. He decided one thing was for sure: before he went anywhere else he was going to go home and get his nine, loaded and locked, and start carrying it wherever he went. State licensing laws be damned; they were probably unconstitutional anyway. At least, that’s what the Chief had always said… but then look at where the Chief was now.

  “Fuck me!” Jesse shouted, slamming his empty glass to the bar. Several heads turned to stare at the commotion. He ignored them and motioned to the bartender for a refill. His gun could wait; after all, the Chief had been carrying a piece and had still been blown away.

  “Sorry buddy,” the bartender said firmly, “but I think you’ve had enough.”

  “What do you mean?” Jesse protested. “This was my first one!”

  “Maybe here, but it looks like you got started somewhere else. Why don’t you go get some coffee or something?”

  “Hey now, I didn’t come here for no fucking café latte. I got problems bigger’n you ever heard of, and I’m entitled to a few beers. This here’s real money, and I want a real beer for it.” He rose from his stool and leaned forward over the bar.

  The bartender merely motioned and nodded. Jesse turned around to see to whom, but he didn’t make it before a pair of burly arms wrapped around his chest and lifted him into the air. Jesse’s arms were pinned firmly to his side.

  “Get the fuck offa me!” he s
houted. Several of the patrons began laughing and catcalling as the bar’s bouncer moved Jesse to the door. “Put me down you fucking nigger!”

  The large black man who held Jesse made sure to bump his captive’s head against the doorframe as he moved the cursing man through it. That shut Jesse up for a minute, and he was unceremoniously dumped on the street outside. “Go sleep it off, buddy,” the bouncer called after him. “Fucking redneck,” he muttered as he turned back inside. The other patrons cheered loudly; it was always fun when it was someone else being thrown out of a bar. The bouncer acknowledged the accolades with a wave of his hand. The crowd returned to their normal low roar. Outside, Jesse McClintock cursed and swore that the bouncer would get his. He stumbled off to find his car and head home for some ice and his gun.

  Chapter 21

  They sat in the same coffee shop they’d been in before. Sam used his cell and tried to call Jesse McClintock first, but did not get an answer. Jesse had yet to invest in an answering machine or voice mail, so he couldn’t leave a message. He called Tim Butcher’s number next. Again, he failed to speak to the man himself. At least Tim had a machine set up, but Sam elected not to leave any message. Eldon Marshall’s residence netted the same result. Sam slipped his cell phone back into his jacket.

  “No luck?” Miranda asked, sipping coffee at the same place they had stopped on the day they visited the college.

  Sam shook his head. “Three strikes. I guess if we’re being professional we ought to go out and make some house calls.”

  “Mm, sounds like fun.”

  “I can see that you’re eager with anticipation.”

  Miranda waved her hand absently in the air. “Making house calls on suspected militiamen who are probably holed up waiting for Armageddon just sounds like a good way to get shot up.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, think about it. They’re extremists to begin with. Paranoia feeds most of their beliefs. Second, it looks like they’ve been trying to get illegal weapons, so they’re probably scared to death that the government is going to come knocking. And most importantly, they just lost a whole bunch of their group in a major shootout, without taking anyone down themselves.”

  “I see your point,” Sam replied with a nod. “Everything else aside, if I had a killer as efficient as Damon after me, I guess I’d be pretty antsy too.”

  “Believe me, I think these guys are worth looking into. It’s just that showing up in the middle of the night seems like a real good way to get added to this week’s body count.” Miranda rubbed her forehead and sighed. “Sorry, I must sound like a pretty pathetic rookie.”

  Sam laughed and touched her arm reassuringly. “Forget about it. You’re right anyway. If the Chief weren’t dead, he’d probably have my ass for putting you in harm’s way.” His smile faded a bit.

  Miranda took hold of his hand and squeezed it. “I doubt that. If what we’ve found is accurate, Chief Wainwright was one of the bad guys.”

  “Yeah, I know. Still trying to digest that one. Even so, no one deserves to die the way he did.”

  “Not even your ex?”

  “The exception that proves the rule.”

  Miranda decided to change the subject. “So, who’s going to run things at the department now?”

  “Hell if I know. I guess I’ve got the rank, but these departments don’t work like the military. There’s a lot of guys that have been here longer than me. The mayor could ask one of them to fill in until the city can hire a new chief of police. I suspect that’s what will happen, especially since I’m pretty involved in this investigation.”

  “I see. Well, if it makes you feel better, you’d get my vote.”

  “Too bad it isn’t an elected position. But thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “So what do you want to do now?” Miranda pushed her empty coffee mug to the side.

  “I guess I should get you home. Try to get hold of these guys in the morning.”

  “My car’s at your place, remember?”

  “Right. Well, I guess it’s back to my abode, then.”

  #

  They stood by Miranda’s car, which was parked on the street in front of Sam’s house. “I really appreciate you being around for all of this,” Sam said. “Hector was my main go-to guy, and with him in the hospital, well, it’s nice to have someone reliable around.”

  Miranda shrugged. “No problem. I hope the other guys at the station aren’t getting jealous or anything.”

  Sam laughed. “Believe me, there’s plenty of work to go around, especially with this Unity Day coming up. We’re backing up the campus police for security and crowd control on that one. Besides which, if the guys are jealous of anyone they’re jealous of me, for running around with someone as attractive….” He cut himself short and looked at the ground. Several awkward seconds passed as he shuffled his feet and tried to recover himself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply….”

  Miranda gently placed her hand on his cheek. “It’s all right. I think I know what you meant.”

  Sam found it very difficult to maintain eye contact with her. Her touch felt good, but part of him wished she’d take her hand away. He searched for something witty to say, but came up empty.

  Miranda finally got him to look at her, and held his eyes with her gaze. She saw a lot of uncertainty there, mixed with regret, perhaps concern. She hated seeing him stumble about in the dark, but it was what she had to do. She couldn’t even comfort herself with the thought that, after this was all over, things could be better and the air could be cleared. Because that could never happen, not if she wanted to stay alive. She smiled sadly at him.

  “Sam, we’re both under a lot of stress, and things aren’t going to get better for a while. Under such circumstances, people do strange things. So if you want to kiss me, I don’t mind.”

  Sam blinked. He struggled again for something to say, but the flood of anxieties, desires and worries jumbled his mind. Almost without thinking, he leaned closer to Miranda, not sure of what he was doing, or if he even wanted to.

  She made his decision for him, tilting her head up and pressing her lips against his. Her mouth was warm, soft and gently forceful, working his open. But she didn’t push any further. Sam ran his hands through her hair and across her shoulders. Miranda gently tugged on his lower lip, then pulled away, and it was over. She smiled, patted his cheek, then turned and got into her car. Sam watched as she pulled away with a wave. All he could think of was how she would have tasted if she had kissed him more deeply. It was a pleasant fantasy indeed.

  #

  Miranda considered her options as she drove away, meanwhile watching Sam in her rearview mirror. As a woman, she was rather pleased to see he was still rooted to the spot where she had left him standing. Gloating over her feminine charms was, however, something she would have to save for later.

  The three remaining members of the Sparta Militia were a problem. Sooner or later Damon’s body would turn up, and then everyone would start looking for a new suspect. She decided to deal with Jesse McClintock first. He was the one who owned Damon’s rental, and she figured it would be best to first get rid of those closest to the dead man. Miranda sped to her place to change and equip herself for another night on the town.

  #

  “That there was a pretty fine lookin’ lady.”

  Sam turned to see Barry Hamm stumbling along the sidewalk. “Hey Barry, how’s it going tonight?”

  “Aw, none too bad. How ‘bout yourself?”

  “Getting by, I guess.” Sam sniffed as Barry sidled up beside him. “Jesus, you smell like a still.”

  “Hey now, a man’s entitled to enjoy himself some. Yes sir. Loretta, she done took off for her momma’s place, so I’s decided to celebrate.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Barry.” Sam didn’t specify which statement caused his sentiment, but Barry was too drunk to care. “You should probably get yourself back home and sleep it off before you get locked up for public into
x.”

  “Aw, you ain’t gonna arrest me, is you? At least I didn’t get throwed outta the bar like that McClintock kid.”

  “McClintock? What McClintock?”

  “That boy Jesse,” Barry drawled. “One that works in the lumber yard with me. He started mouthin’ off at the bartender and got tossed out on his ass.”

  “When was this?”

  “Oh, I guess an hour or so ago. Don’t really remember.”

  “Which bar?”

  “The Night Owl, up near the center of town.”

  “Where’d he go after that?”

  “Home I guess.” Barry let out a monstrous belch. “He was shoutin’ off a bunch of bullshit about getting’ his gun and cappin’ him some nigger ass. Full of shit, if you ask me.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “The bouncer’s a nig- a black guy. Jesse don’t like them none.”

  “So I’ve heard.” Sam rubbed his chin and wished Miranda hadn’t left already. He could always call her, he supposed. “Thanks Barry. You’ve been a big help. Get yourself inside now. You want me to walk you home?”