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Jumping at Shadows

Page 13

by R. G. Green


  The owner of Burnside Gunsmith had offered to open its shooting range to allow Eric to break in the gun, but Eric had declined, as the weather would already make the trip home for both of them treacherous. If he was lucky he wouldn’t have to use it to catch the men Victor Kroger had watching him, but until Victor was caught, he wasn’t about to go unarmed.

  He looked sharply in the rearview mirror as he turned on his signal and slipped into the turning lane, then back out the windshield as he rounded the corner to the lightly traveled cross street.

  The Lexus was in his direct line of sight when he straightened his truck. And it was stopped.

  Eric stiffened. The car was halfway down the block, far enough from the corner that it hadn’t stopped for the light, and there were no other cars in front of it to halt its movement. Recognition slammed into him. Four nights ago, that Lexus had been in their neighborhood, and now it was here. And he would be damned if it was a coincidence. No one—no one—was going to quote him the number of Lexus-model cars registered in the city this time. Slamming his truck into gear, he maneuvered to pull up behind it.

  But the Lexus had seen him, its body jerking into motion at nearly the same instant as Eric’s truck. It picked up speed fast and shot through the red light as Eric slammed the accelerator. No fucking way was he getting away this time.

  Horns screamed and tires screeched as a white Ford Taurus twisted wildly in the intersection, skidding across the ice as the driver barely avoided a collision. A gold Jeep Liberty screeched from the opposite direction, turning sharply away from the barreling F150, then bouncing recklessly as the black Silverado behind it plowed into its rear doors. The intersection was thick with businesses and strip malls, and Eric glanced in the mirror at he made the far side, but he didn’t stop even when the people started climbing out of their vehicles. He wanted that Lexus, and his eyes dropped quickly back to the road in front of him.

  The Lexus shot left at the next light, and Eric swung the corner to pull around behind it. His lips pulled from his teeth as he neared its bumper and then, in a move both wild and reckless, swung out left and shot past it, turning at the last minute to force his nose in front. The Lexus jerked to the side with the sound of tearing tires, and metal crunched as it leaped the curb, bouncing to a halt with the front end tipping dangerously into a storm ditch. They were beside Orchard Park, summer recreation area and winter wonderland for city kids and adults alike. Today the park was empty.

  Eric leaped from his truck with his hand reaching automatically for his gun, remembering belatedly that he hadn’t yet loaded or donned it. No matter. He didn’t need a gun for this.

  “Get out of the car!” he screamed, reaching its trunk and slamming his hand down hard on the metal surface. “Get out of the fucking car! Now, you motherfucker!”

  The door swung open, but the windbreaker-covered arm was too slow in reaching out. Eric grabbed it and jerked the driver free, twisting the arm sharply behind the driver’s back as he slammed him chest-first against the rear window.

  “What the hell…?” The voice was high and agitated as the words were blurted out, the driver too stunned or too scared to struggle. “I didn’t do anything! I swear!”

  “Shut up!” Eric shouted, slamming him again against the car. “You’re under arrest, and you have the right to remain silent! Stay the fuck still!” Again Eric slammed him into the car, twisting his arm up for emphasis.

  “I didn’t do anything, man!” the driver shouted back, struggling against Eric’s grip. “I didn’t… do… anything!”

  Sirens sounded from the street, and Eric heard the black and whites stop short on the ice-covered asphalt behind him. “You are not getting away this time!” Eric hissed in the driver’s ear a second before he heard the car doors open.

  “Stop where you are!” a voice shouted behind him. “Hands in the air and step back! Now!”

  A vindictive smile of victory crossed Eric’s lips as he shoved the man into the car again; then he raised his hands as he stepped back slowly. His breath gusted like he had been running, and he dropped his eyes from the driver still cowering against the car window to follow the lines of the Lexus he had finally caught. His heart nearly stopped in his chest when the lines became terrifyingly familiar, all the way from the aerodynamic curves to the front fender flares.

  The car was a Mazda 6.

  Leather-trimmed, slate-gray cloth sank under his weight, and the loose coins rattled in the door pocket when Eric slammed the door shut, although the sound was somewhat muted by the scraps of receipts and coffee lids they mingled with. The grab handle on the glove box nearly bumped his knees, and the remains of a bottled water sat in the cupholder beside him. Eric turned his head to glare out the tinted passenger-side window as T.J. climbed into the driver’s seat. The Jeep Wrangler was nice—lousy on gas mileage, but great for both ice-coated streets and the weekends spent in the great outdoors beyond the city limits. And for now, it was their only mode of transportation.

  Eric’s F-150 was in the impound yard and would likely remain there until after his court hearing. Reckless driving, endangering the public, running a goddamn red light…. Capt. Carroll had itemized the charges in detail as Eric had surrendered his license, in no way avoiding the assault charge that topped them all. His appearance in court was mandatory unless the driver of the Mazda dropped his charges, and if the drivers of the Liberty and the Silverado decided not to press them. There was no way to get around the increase in his insurance premium, however. The lack of cuffs had been the one boon he had received upon being arrested, and allowing T.J. to come pick him up at the station was granted only because of the lack of alcohol in his bloodstream.

  The air in the Jeep was thick with silence, and the chill had already begun to seep beneath their leather jackets as T.J. had yet to start the engine. Breath formed a vaporous cloud between them when T.J. finally spoke.

  “Are you okay?”

  Eric snorted, clouding the glass as he shook his head. “It was him. I know it. It was the same Lexus we saw—”

  “It was a Mazda 6, Eric.”

  The softly spoken words stopped Eric short, and he jerked his head around to find T.J. staring at him, a frown creasing his brow and worry clear in his eyes.

  “Are you okay?” T.J. asked again, watching him closely, almost warily.

  “What? Yes! T.J., I’m fine! But I saw him! It was the same guy who was watching our house! It was the same car! I don’t know where the Mazda came from, but the Lexus was there! He was watching in the street—”

  “Eric—”

  “I saw him, T.J.! He was right there! He stopped—”

  “Eric!”

  “It’s him!”

  T.J. froze at the nearly shouted words, and Eric let out a gusty breath as he threw himself back in the seat. He raked a hand through his hair as he glared out the window, and then turned on T.J. with determination set on his face.

  “Look. I know you don’t believe me. I’m sure you think I’m jumping at shadows and seeing Victor behind every tree, but listen to me. I’m not going crazy, and I’m not seeing things, and I’m sure as hell not ignoring this. He’s out there, T.J., and he’s following us, or stalking us, or doing God knows what with those pictures he’s taking. He knows where we live. He was at our house!” Eric had leaned up as he spoke, twisting sideways to face T.J. “Our house, T.J. The one place in this world we should be safe, and he’s been standing right outside our window! You know he was there! I saw him there!”

  T.J. drew a breath, reaching for Eric’s hand. “Eric, baby—”

  “No!” Eric snapped, jerking his hand back as he sat up. “Don’t tell me to calm down! Don’t tell me I’m overreacting, and don’t tell me that no one was watching us that night! Don’t tell me—”

  “Eric!” There was no chance of escaping his reach this time as T.J.’s hand snapped out, catching Eric’s wrist and jerking him forward. T.J. leaned over at the same time, and Eric’s words faltered when his mot
ion stopped with little more than an inch between them. A soft breath caressed his lips, and then T.J. closed the space, kissing him softly and deeply.

  T.J.’s hold on his wrist kept Eric from pulling back, but the hold became unnecessary as the soft lips demanded and received a response. T.J.’s fingers loosened as he felt the tension slip from Eric’s body, his hand moving into a caress, his palm sliding up the leather sleeve covering Eric’s arm until it reached the flesh at his collar, then sliding back to brush the short hair at his neck. When the kiss finally broke, T.J. didn’t pull back but held Eric in place as he pressed their foreheads together. Eric didn’t resist, and T.J. lowered his head enough to brush their noses.

  “Let’s go home,” T.J. said quietly. He didn’t move away immediately, and he pressed another gentle kiss before Eric could find his voice to argue. The kiss was lingering, and the fingers sweeping through Eric’s hair had Eric’s own fingers playing at the leather of T.J.’s jacket. Then after a quick flick of his tongue over Eric’s lips, T.J. tried again.

  “Home, baby. Okay?”

  This time Eric nodded, slowly and grudgingly, but agreeing nonetheless. He claimed a kiss of his own to convince T.J. he was serious, and at last T.J. sat back and pulled on his seatbelt. Eric copied him, and the soothing purr of the engine started a moment later, followed by the welcome burst of warm air as the heater came to life. The Jeep pulled smoothly from the parking lot.

  They didn’t speak as they crossed the city to their house, and despite the kiss T.J. had given him, Eric couldn’t shake the tension that crept back over his body as he watched the city pass outside the window. It was late enough in the afternoon that traffic was light, but it was Saturday and the skies weren’t sleeting, so the streets were far from empty. Eric stiffened when a dark, newer model car passed them on the outside lane, the motion drawing his eyes from the window to the windshield. He relaxed only marginally when it proved to be an Elantra, not a Lexus. If T.J. noticed the reaction, he made no comment about it. Eric hissed a curse as he turned back to stare out the window.

  Victor Kroger was still out there, and he was way too close to him and T.J., even if T.J. didn’t believe it. The Lexus he had seen earlier had been real, and like Victor Kroger, it was still out there. Eric didn’t want to start another argument with T.J. by pointing out that fact, but he vowed silently that he would find it, find Victor, and stop him.

  With the gray city sweeping its way past them, Eric began searching the winter streets and parking lots, and watching every dark car that passed them.

  “You bought cameras.”

  It was just a statement of fact, neither accusing nor incredulous, yet Eric felt like squirming under the steady gaze with which T.J. watched him. The alarm system had been obvious the moment they stepped into the house, but Eric had already known he would have to explain that. The cameras, however, he had hoped to get by with, at least for now, and he might have if he had hidden the packaging deeper in the trashcan. Or at least hidden the packing slip, which was now held loosely in T.J.’s fingers.

  “Yes,” Eric answered calmly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I bought cameras.”

  The air in the kitchen was cool, and a draft from around the door brought goose bumps to his flesh. Though he still wore the jeans and sweatshirt he had donned that morning, he rubbed his arms absently as T.J. continued to watch him. Eric had already explained the alarm system as a necessary purchase, and had done it well enough that T.J. had reluctantly accepted it. The cameras though….

  “Baby, do you think they’re really necessary?” The words were spoken carefully and cautiously, and Eric should have been happy he didn’t mention the price. But happy wasn’t what he felt.

  “Yes, I think they’re necessary.” The same manner, the same tone.

  T.J. raised the packing slip to read the numbers. “For several thousand dollars?” He stood opposite Eric, leaning one hand on the kitchen chair next to the table that separated them, but Eric still felt exposed.

  “Yes, I know they were expensive, but we need them to—”

  “In the trees,” T.J. guessed rather than asked. “By the creek, with another one to go out front.” He stared at Eric for a moment, then sighed as he straightened from the chair. “The alarm system is one thing, Eric. In this city, I can go along with that. But the cameras? Come on, baby….”

  “I said I would pay for them,” Eric repeated tersely. “I’m suspended, but it’s with pay, so you won’t—”

  “No,” T.J. cut in, facing him squarely over the table. “We will pay for them. Because that’s what we do. A part of being together is that we share responsibilities, remember?”

  Eric did, and they had shared responsibilities since committing themselves to this relationship seven years earlier. The house was in both of their names, as were the bills that came with it. So were the Jeep and the truck. Their bank accounts were shared, and their investments were joint. As reassuring as it was that they both were serious, it was financially dangerous if either of them was anything less than fully committed.

  “We can probably still return them,” T.J. added quietly, glancing again at the packing slip. “Even if it’s not a full refund, we can still get part—”

  “No,” Eric broke in sharply, straightening instantly. “No, T.J. Those cameras are the best chance we’ve got of catching whoever is watching us.”

  T.J.’s exhaled breath was audible as he leaned both hands on the chair, and Eric watched him warily as he seemed to consider his next words. Eric tensed when he saw the resolve in T.J.’s eyes when he looked up.

  “Eric, sweetheart, don’t you think you’re going a little overboard? Even if someone is watching us—”

  “There’s no ‘if’, T.J.! I’ve seen him!”

  “Okay, okay,” T.J. said soothingly, lifting himself up to stand. “You’ve seen him. The alarm may be a good idea, but baby, these cameras—”

  “Do you want to wait until he breaks in?” Eric demanded sharply, stepping forward enough to lean on the table. “The alarm is well and good for calling for help, but that’s after he breaks in! Do you really think anyone is going to get here fast enough to stop him after he’s already inside?”

  “Eric, I’m just saying—”

  “This is Victor Kroger we’re talking about! A house alarm isn’t going to scare him! At least not more than once! What happens when he breaks in the second time?”

  “Eric, baby, calm down—”

  “No!” Eric snapped, pushing himself up as he jerked away from the table. Hands raked through his hair. “T.J., I’m not giving him the chance to get close to me or you! You don’t think he’s dangerous, but I’m the one who followed his every move for the last year! I’ve seen what he’s done and I know what he’s capable of! If we give him the chance to get the jump on us—”

  “What about your team?” T.J. broke in. “Isn’t it their job to nail Victor before that happens? Isn’t that what they’re doing every day? Isn’t that why you badgered your captain into pulling them from whatever else they were working on to find a trail between Victor and the judge?”

  “I didn’t badger the captain!” Eric snapped. “And you weren’t at the trial! You didn’t see how every speck of evidence we had was thrown out and every testimony we gave was torn apart and shredded into a thousand pieces! You didn’t watch Victor

  Kroger—”

  “No, I didn’t, Eric! And I don’t doubt that some sort of revenge is being planned for it. But don’t you think you’re jumping at shadows a little too much here? You’re letting those pictures make you paranoid—”

  “Paranoid?” Eric stared in utter disbelief. “You think I’m being paranoid about all of this? You think we should just ignore those pictures, blow them off and laugh about them?”

  “No! Eric, that’s not what I meant….” T.J. raised his hands pleadingly, though Eric backed away from them. His voice was little more than a hiss.

  “He knows where we live, T.J.! He’s alread
y been here!”

  “Eric, stop it. Let’s back up a little bit….”

  “After he kills me or you, then will you believe this is serious?”

  “Eric—”

  But Eric didn’t wait for an answer, instead snatching his coat from the back of the chair, diving his hand into the pocket. He touched cold metal, and the jacket dropped to the table as he pulled the 9mm from the pocket. He hadn’t told T.J. about the gun yet, but he was tired of dancing around T.J.’s feelings when there was a very real, very dangerous threat right at their door. A glance showed the safety still on, and a single press of his thumb dropped the magazine into his hand. The chamber was loaded, and the magazine was full. Only his acceptance of losing his truck had allowed him to drive it himself to the impound lot, and only his standing as a Breten City detective had kept it from being searched. The case the gun had been sold in was still hidden under the seat. T.J. hadn’t said a word, but Eric felt his eyes watching him.

 

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