The Tanner Series - Books 1-11: Tanner - The hit man with a heart

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The Tanner Series - Books 1-11: Tanner - The hit man with a heart Page 53

by Remington Kane


  “Chief, my name is Cameron Ryder. I’m a bounty hunter and a former cop. This woman here killed my brother, Michael Ryder.”

  The chief walked over. Cameron had on a jacket and McCoy could make out the outline of the holster on Cameron’s hip.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, ma’am.”

  “I won’t, sir. That is, unless you’d be willing to step out and let me?”

  The chief released a long sigh. “I can’t do that, I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

  “I understand,” Cameron said, then she leaned her face against the bars and locked eyes with Sara. “You had better pray that you never see the light of day again, bitch, because if I get my hands on you, you will suffer. Oh yes you will.”

  Sara stood and opened her mouth to assert her innocence, but Cameron had already turned and headed for the door.

  Sara sat back on her cot. When she felt Tanner’s gaze on her, she looked his way.

  “How’s it feel to be on the receiving end?”

  “Shut up, Tanner.”

  Sara pushed the remainder of her food aside, as her appetite had disappeared.

  170

  Run!

  Tyler parked across the street from the police station and checked his gun for the third time.

  Despite what he said to Sherry, he did not want to kill a cop if he didn’t have to, because he knew what kind of holy hell that would bring upon them.

  It was bad enough that Sherry killed Michael Ryder as they were leaving the bank, but once he killed a cop, even a small-time chief like McCoy, he knew the man’s fellow officers wouldn’t rest until he was either locked up, or more likely, dead.

  The police station sat on the edge of town and was situated between two hills, each of which had a ten-foot bridge spanning a small stream. The streams would normally be well below the surface of their respective bridges, but today, the water was only inches from street level and showed white caps within the currents.

  The only building other than the police station was an old firehouse, which had been retired years ago. It was used only once a week when it housed a flea market on Sundays.

  Few people had a reason to visit the area on a good day, and with the rain, the street was deserted.

  Tyler sat and listened to the drum of rain upon the minivan’s roof as he readied himself to cross the line.

  The chief was pacing inside the station.

  Lydia had called and said that there was nothing going on at the farm, and he thought she would be right back. Then, that busybody Mrs. James called with a story about some kids “spending like drunken sailors,” and Lydia went to see what that was all about.

  McCoy had tried to get in touch with Lydia again when he felt the urge for a drink overwhelm him, but she wasn’t answering her phone or radio, possibly because their communications were down.

  Sara spoke and McCoy stopped his pacing.

  “I don’t understand how your deputy didn’t see anything? Did she go inside the house?”

  “Of course not, there was no need to; she said that everything was locked up tight.”

  “But my car is in the driveway and there was also a pickup truck. Even if the bank robbers left, those should still be there, as well as the man Tanner shot.”

  “Be quiet.”

  McCoy needed a drink and knew that he’d never make it through the next few hours without one. The liquor store was three blocks away, just the other side of the hill. He could be there and back in no time, but there were the prisoners to think of.

  Aw hell, where are they going to go?

  “I’ll be back in a minute. There’s no way to escape those cells so don’t even try.”

  Sara gave McCoy an incredulous look. “What do you mean you’re leaving? I thought the FBI was on their way here?”

  “I’ll be right back!”

  McCoy left, and they could hear the door locking behind him.

  Tyler smiled wide as he watched McCoy U-turn and drive up the hill. He had just decided to kill the lawman along with his prisoners, consequences be damned, when the chief left the building and hopped into his cruiser.

  “Yes!”

  After looking around and seeing no one on the street, Tyler checked his gun for the final time and left the minivan, determined to place a bullet in Tanner’s head.

  Farther down the road, Cameron Ryder watched Tyler exit his vehicle and walk across the street.

  She could tell by his manner that he was up to no good. She wondered if he was the person suspected of being the getaway driver. If so, he might be attempting a breakout.

  Tyler raised a foot and kicked at the front door of the police station. It took three kicks, but the door swung open.

  As Tyler entered the station, Cameron got out of her truck and walked around to the rear, to get her shotgun out of the toolbox in the bed of the truck.

  She had just unlocked the toolbox when Lydia came flying down the hill and skidded to a stop in front of the police station.

  Cameron cursed, thinking that Lydia would keep her from getting revenge, but then realized that there was no guarantee that the deputy would win the firefight.

  Cameron removed the shotgun and just stood there for a moment. She was torn between wanting to back up the deputy or waiting to see which way things went. If she waited and the deputy lost, she would get her chance to avenge her brother’s death and cut down the bank robbers as they fled the jail, but waiting meant that the deputy might die.

  Not much of a choice, Cameron thought, as she chambered a round in the shotgun and headed toward the jail to help the deputy.

  That’s when movement up in the hills above the town caught her eye. Cameron stopped walking and stared up at it, squinting, trying to comprehend what she was seeing. When she did, she knew her shotgun would be useless against it.

  The hill she was gazing up at was in the neighboring town of Evansville. It was too steep to build on, yet there had been small summer cottages perched on its narrow crest. Beyond those sat a wide lake, Evansville Lake.

  As Cameron looked on with widening eyes, she watched several of the small white structures, which were more cabanas than cabins, become knocked off their foundations and tumble down the hill. The force that propelled them was water. The lake had overflowed its banks after being fed by the constant runoff from the numerous streams which weaved through the hills above it.

  Millions of gallons of water were racing toward the low-lying land where the jail sat. It was traveling with enough force to not only dislodge the cabanas from their perches, but it was also uprooting small trees and carrying them along like matchsticks.

  Cameron was about to run toward the jail to warn the deputy when she saw the chief’s SUV come rocketing back down the hill. The man was driving so fast that after he hit a dip in the road, all four tires left the ground. Cameron knew that the chief must have seen the water too.

  Again, Cameron froze in hesitation, knowing that only seconds of safety remained, but another look up the hill decided things for her and she rushed back to her truck, started the engine, and raced toward higher ground.

  Liquid death was coming, and anyone caught in its path would drown.

  Lydia stood between Tyler and the jail cells, as Tanner and Sara watched the drama play out in front of them, both wondering if they were about to be murdered.

  “You can’t kill them, not here. Damn it, don’t you have enough heat on you?”

  “That son of a bitch killed my brother.”

  Lydia placed a hand on Tyler’s chest. “I know, Tyler. I know how you feel, but you have to get out of here before the chief comes back. His cruiser is right up the road there at the liquor store and he’ll be back any second.”

  “It don’t matter, they know too much, just like those kids. And what happened there, did you kill them and get the money back?”

  “No, I was watching the girl’s house on 10th Street when Sherry called and told me what you were doing. But let me handle this, I’ll shoot th
em and tell the chief that they were trying to escape, but you can’t be here.”

  “That won’t work now, not with the door all busted in.”

  Lydia hadn’t considered that, but her nimble mind came up with a new plan.

  “I hate to do it, but McCoy has to die.”

  She walked over to the shelf, removed a lockbox from it and took out Sara’s gun.

  “I’ll use this, that way it’ll look like she shot him.”

  “In the meantime…” Tyler said and pointed his gun at Tanner.

  With nowhere to run or hide, Tanner stood staring back at Tyler and wondered if he was about to die.

  Outside, the chief’s vehicle came to a screeching halt in front of Lydia’s vehicle and Lydia placed a hand on Tyler’s arm.

  “Don’t shoot him yet, it’ll alert the chief and take away the element of surprise. Let him walk in first.”

  But McCoy didn’t walk in; he sprinted in, oblivious of the broken door, the man holding the gun, Sara’s warning shout, and even the fact that his own deputy was pointing a weapon at him.

  “The lake in Evansville crested; we have to get the prisoners out of—”

  Lydia fired twice.

  The bullets struck McCoy in the chest and his momentum carried him toward the cells, where he collapsed before Sara and rolled over onto his back.

  McCoy gazed up at Lydia, giving her the most puzzled expression she’d ever seen, and after exhaling loudly, he died.

  “Oh my God,” Sara said. She’d been shaken by the ruthlessness of the violence, and it was not lost on her that, motives aside, Lydia’s shooting of McCoy was an echo of her own shooting of Jake Garner, her former partner. After witnessing the act of betrayal being played out so starkly, Sara had to fight the urge to vomit.

  However, Tanner was more interested in McCoy’s final words than the manner of his death, and unlike Sara, he didn’t see people as either “good” or “evil.”

  People were people to Tanner, and any person anywhere was capable of all manner of things, be they benign or malignant. Lydia’s involvement with the robbers and her betrayal of her boss were just actions, choices she made for her own reasons.

  What mattered now were McCoy’s actions. Why was the lawman in such an agitated state?

  “The chief said the lake in Evansville crested. Why did that have him in such a panic?”

  Lydia tore her eyes away from McCoy’s body to look at Tanner.

  “Evansville? It’s a town just north of here, at the summit of the hills—oh shit.”

  Lydia grabbed Tyler by the arm and began pulling him toward the door.

  “We have to go now! This whole area is about to flood.”

  “What about them?”

  “Leave them! They’ll drown.”

  From their cells, Tanner and Sara saw Lydia and Tyler exit. After looking to her left, Lydia made a sound like a strangled scream while Tyler let out a loud curse, then the two of them scrambled into the chief’s SUV, which he had left running at the curb.

  Tanner heard it first; the rush of water, the sound of millions of gallons headed toward them. It was so loud that it even eclipsed the thunder that rumbled overhead.

  Tanner looked down at McCoy’s body and dropped to his knees to stretch his arm out to grab the key ring dangling off the chief’s belt.

  Sara realized what he was doing, and she reached out and snagged the keys, which were closer to her than they were to Tanner, as McCoy’s corpse laid only a foot in front of her cell.

  She laughed in triumph, but then realized that Tanner was also going for McCoy’s gun. The two of them were struggling over it when a tree trunk exploded into the building.

  It came in with such force and velocity that the old brick building shuddered from the impact and the front corner of the structure collapsed around it, letting in more water.

  Tanner and Sara found themselves slammed against the back wall, as the force of the flow struck them, and the shock of the cold water made them both convulse and breathe faster.

  Tanner had won the battle for the chief’s gun and stood to find the floodwaters past his waist and rising fast. When Sara straightened up holding the key, Tanner pointed the gun at her.

  “Give me the key or die.”

  Sara stared at him defiantly, as she worked the key into the lock on her cell door.

  “You’re the one who’s going to die, Tanner, drowning in a jail cell like a trapped rat.”

  “Let me out, Blake. If you don’t, you’ll never get the chance to torture me.”

  Sara was shivering from the cold water, but she stilled her chattering teeth long enough to say five words.

  “I can live with that.”

  The power went out in the building and the sudden gloom temporarily blinded them; nevertheless, they could hear. The sound of Sara’s cell door creaking open reached Tanner’s ears.

  He aimed at the sound and fired three times, then he mentally chastised himself for not closing his eyes, to avoid the gun’s flash.

  Still, his eyes readjusted rapidly to the diminished light, and he saw the dark shape of Sara’s form swimming away beneath the murky water.

  Tanner fired several more times, then he lost sight of her movements and wondered if any of his shots had hit home.

  He studied the water while looking for tendrils of blood, but found none, save for the ones flowing from the chief’s fresh corpse, which floated face down upon the water’s surface.

  Tanner waited, hoping that Sara’s bullet-riddled body would rise as well.

  When Sara finally broke above the surface near the doorway, Tanner glimpsed only her right hand and saw that its middle finger was extended, telling him to go fuck himself.

  His shots had missed her completely.

  When Sara did come up for air outside the jail, Tanner glimpsed her through a window that had been smashed open by the flood. He saw the smile lighting her face before she swam off toward higher ground.

  The gun had one round left. Tanner held it beneath the water and fired at the lock on the cell, risking a ricochet and gaining nothing, as the tough steel of the cell lock held fast.

  With the water rising past his chest, Tanner looked about for a way to get free and saw only his future tomb.

  171

  New Beginnings

  Amy stood in the center of her living room staring at her mother, who appeared not to have moved at all since she and Dean left for their shopping spree.

  Dean had carried their bags upstairs to Amy’s bedroom and returned to find out why she hadn’t followed him.

  “Why are you crying?”

  Amy sniffled and pointed at her mother. “That’s not my mom. She used to be, before the accident, but she didn’t just lose a foot and sight in her eye, she lost her soul too.”

  “Maybe you can talk her into going back to rehab again.”

  “She wouldn’t go, and nothing I say or do matters to her anyway.”

  Dean took Amy by the hand and led her up to her bedroom. Once there, he pushed aside the bags and lay beside her on the bed, his head propped up on one elbow and staring down into her face.

  “I love you, Amy, and I hate to see you so sad.”

  Amy kissed him and then stood and went through the bags until she found what she was looking for. It was a dress, nothing fancy, just a dress, but unlike everything else she owned it wasn’t black, but a vibrant red.

  “Do you like it? I thought I’d change my look.”

  “No more black?”

  “No, not even my hair, I plan on letting it go back to its mousy brown.”

  “Why?”

  Amy shrugged. “I want to be me again.”

  She draped the dress over a chair and lay back beside Dean.

  “I want us to leave town and never come back… will you do it?”

  “When, after my birthday?”

  “No, today. I’ll pack up some things and we’ll hop on a bus with that money and never look back.”

  “Wh
at about your mom?”

  “She’s not my mom. I don’t know who she is, but she’s not the woman who used to tuck me in and read to me, not since her accident. It’ll probably be weeks before she even notices I’m gone.”

  “There’s still school, our friends, Matt, Lila, what do we tell them?”

  “We’ll call them someday, but I want a new life. That money can buy us a whole new life, don’t you see that?”

  Dean gazed into Amy’s eyes. “We’ll do it, and I don’t care where we go as long as we go together.”

  Amy smiled brighter than Dean could ever recall, and the two of them kissed, still unaware that they were the known targets of a gang of killers.

  A hundred yards from the police station, Sara staggered out of the water, as she had gone high enough up the hill to escape the flood. When she turned and stared back at the building that housed the jail, she saw that the water had risen within a foot of covering the roof. Fresh water was lapping at her feet, so she knew the level was still rising.

  “Goodbye, Tanner.”

  Footsteps splashed towards her. Sara had just enough time to turn her head before the butt of a shotgun hit her just above the right ear, rendering her all but senseless.

  Cameron Ryder glared down at Sara’s dazed form and believed that she was looking at the woman who killed her brother.

  After cuffing Sara’s hands behind her back, Cameron left her lying in the street while she retrieved her pickup.

  She backed the vehicle beside Sara, then hoisted her into the rear seat, where she placed duct tape over her mouth and around her ankles. Sara didn’t resist, as she was still groggy.

  Before driving away, Cameron looked back at the jail and saw that the water had nearly covered it completely.

  That the woman had left her partner to drown didn’t surprise Cameron in the least, because she was a firm believer that all criminals were scum who were only out for themselves.

 

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